Showing posts with label Michael Jackson Billy Jean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Jackson Billy Jean. Show all posts

Friday, October 16, 2009

Michael Jackson: Hating the Man in the Mirror (part 3)

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor
Daresha Kyi

click here to read: part 1, part 2

Instead of marrying Michael Jackson, I’d become a member of his coveted inner circle. I’d be the one to pull his coat and tell him the real deal, the one to say, “You’re slipping, dude. You need help.” In my new fantasy I would save him.

Lisa Marie had the same idea when she married him. Unfortunately she learned the hard way how difficult it is to help an addict who hasn’t hit rock bottom and come out of denial. “In trying to save him, I almost lost myself,” she blogged upon learning of his death. “I became very ill and emotionally/spiritually exhausted in my quest to save him from certain self-destructive behavior…” I don’t envy her.

His family also tried repeatedly to stage interventions to help him and I’m sure that his friends Deepak, Liza, Liz and plenty of others tried to stop him. But like most addicts, Michael could be wily and shrewd. When confronted with his addiction he would deny everything and then became completely inaccessible. He’d just slip away. An addict with almost unlimited resources is truly dangerous.

So instead we all watched helplessly as he slowly morphed into a monster right before our eyes. Sometimes just looking at him made me want to cry. How could that beautiful “little brown baby with the sparkling eyes” have come to such ruin? If I think about it too long it still makes me weep.

Of course, it was more than just internalized racism that brought about his spiral into dark oblivion. The abuse he suffered as a boy, the loss of his childhood as the family breadwinner, his constant struggle with shyness, isolation and loneliness, his emotional immaturity, financial woes, depression over the child abuse accusations and addictions all conspired to make certain that Michael swam in a river of constant pain. It really should come as no surprise that such a tortured soul finally self-medicated to the point of extinction. While others were shocked by his death, I was surprised he made it to age 50.

Still his death drew the attention of the world in very polarizing ways. Some people focused solely on the destructive things of which he had been accused while others spoke only of his immeasurable talent. But no matter what your take might be on the man’s personal life, there’s no denying that Michael had profound love and compassion for the suffering peoples of the world. It was reflected through songs like “We Are The World” and “Heal The World” as well as through the innumerable acts of kindness he showed toward the sick and underprivileged. He set the Guinness world record as the celebrity who donated the most money to charities because it was vitally important to him to serve his fellow man. I believe he would want to be just as useful in death as he was in life. He’d want to make a difference.

Michael Jackson never did anything small. He lived on such a grand scale and was so much larger than life that he was iconic and archetypal even before he died. He was “the boy in the bubble,” “a perennial Peter Pan,” “the misunderstood artist,” ”the crazy genius” and his life story is now elevated to the status of a morality tale with lots of crucial lessons for us all:

For parents who push their children into the spotlight before they have a solid foundation, addicts who’ve convinced themselves they can “handle it” alone and anyone who thinks money will solve all their problems – take heed. And for those who suffer from internalized racism- Michael made it unmistakably clear how dire the consequences can be if the illness is left unchecked. He presented all us with a “worst case scenario” if you will.

So what do we do with this knowledge? Well, ever since President Obama hinted at his candidacy we’ve been discussing race in ways we never have before as a nation. We’ve taken some baby steps toward confronting the many ways in which race continues to affect us all with a level of openness and honesty unprecedented in America. Now it’s time to take it to the next level. Instead of firing angry rhetoric back and forth or tiptoeing around the minefield like we have in the past, let’s expand the dialogue here in America and then watch it spread throughout the world like Coke, McDonald’s, Starbucks and American pop culture.

You see, Black Americans don’t have a monopoly on internalized racism. It’s a global phenomena easily found in any society where people of color have been colonized or enslaved by Caucasians. It’s a sort of residual effect of being completely dominated by another culture. It plays out in Asians who have a portion of their eyelids removed to make them wider, Jews who hack off part of their noses to look more goyish, Latinas who straighten their naturally curly hair or bleach it blonde, and all brown skinned people who use bleaching creams to lighten their skin. You can see it in little girls like my cousin, who used to wrap a yellow towel around her head and pretend it was her hair.

Now if you happen to be Caucasian, I’m not asking you to feel guilty about the past. Guilt is actually useless, unnecessary and counter-productive. There’s no need for an apology either. What’s done is done. What we need is simple acknowledgement of the lingering effects of this painful legacy by everyone. It would help tremendously if certain people stopped dismissing and invalidating it because they don’t understand it, don’t want to deal with it or just don’t think it’s relevant because “it happened in the past.” Would it be acceptable to say that to a victim of rape or incest? Not a chance.

We all know that psychological and emotional traumas linger on in the human psyche and can have drastic effects on us unless and until we find the power to acknowledge, heal and release them. Michael made it as plain as the nose on his face how painful it can be to suffer from internalized racism and I firmly believe that bringing this particular aspect of his life to the forefront of our national discussion on race and calling it by its proper name would help us ALL tremendously. Those who suffer from it would finally know that the problem is not just in their heads, that something really is wrong, and most importantly, that they are not alone. Just like anorexics, alcoholics, and cancer survivors these people would find the support and strength in numbers they need to heal. And those who perpetuate it would be made conscious of what they’re really doing so we could stop it here and now. Think of it as another part of our new national mental health care plan.

Now that science has proven beyond a doubt that race has no basis in fact we need to discard it as the outdated social construct it is. Because we are 99.9% genetically alike, our differences are mostly cosmetic. Our mitochondrial DNA says that we are all the descendants of a woman from somewhere in East Africa, which means that as cliché as it may sound, Michael was right. We are the world. It’s time to act like it.

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Thursday, October 15, 2009

Michael Jackson: Hating the Man in the Mirror (part 2)

by today's Urban Chameleon
Daresha Kyi

click here to read part 1


Michael Jackson broke my heart. And then as time passed and the depth of his self-hatred began to manifest in increasingly lighter skin, straighter hair, a more narrow nose and countless other physical alterations, it saddened, shamed and embarrassed me. Why would I feel such strong emotions when it seemingly had nothing to do with me? Because, as author Michael Dyson has noted, Michael very literally embodied the love/hate relationship with self-image faced by many African Americans, including me. He wore our dirty laundry all over his face - and it wasn’t a pretty sight. A lot of African Americans turned their backs on him because they just couldn’t stand the sight.

But I couldn’t look away. I was still fascinated and intrigued by the ever-changing man in the mirror. As the insidious, pathological mental illness known as internalized racism wreaked its ugly vengeance on his face and body, it became very clear that Michael Jackson was sick to his soul. How could I hold it against him or hold him to a higher standard than all the other brothers and sisters I knew who suffered from the same malady? And there were plenty. Some were my own family members and I still loved them. Why not him?


It’s not like internalized racism is a rare occurrence in the African American community. Those of us who grew up hearing about ”good and bad hair” and nursery rhymes that ended with “if you’re black get back!” have dealt with it all our lives. Although many of us have learned to “love the skin we’re in,” others still struggle with it mightily. (But since they don’t often have the resources Mike had it’s usually harder to detect.) At any rate, it’s not something we’re proud of. The truth is I hated the width of my nose and fullness of my bottom lip when I was young. I didn’t start to see my own beauty until I was in my 30s. So who was I to judge?


If you’ve never heard the term “internalized racism” before, come on out from under that rock and let me break it down for you. Author Gerald Cunningham defines it as “the conscious and subconscious incorporation and acceptance of all the negative stereotypes and images from media, folklore and accounts of history that define persons of color…as inferior.” In laymen’s terms it’s just plain old self-hatred with a twist. You feel less worthy because of your race.

Some of the ways in which the illness manifests in the African American community are:

  • We place higher value on members who appear more white and denigrate those who have "less white" features. We also do the reverse and target those with lighter skin as not being "black enough," not legitimate persons of color.

  • We feel hopeless, despairing, and angry which can make us vulnerable to the lure of alcohol and other drugs for "relief" from those feelings.

  • We turn our anger against each other in “black on black” crime.

  • We criticize and beat our children in misguided efforts to "discipline" them and keep them from openly displaying pride or pleasure in their selves. In a misguided attempt to make them less vulnerable to racism we leave them more beaten down and enraged.


That last example speaks specifically to Michael’s case because Joe Jackson is said to have drilled into his head from a very early age that his nose was too wide and he was “too black” to be his son. But this article is not about blaming any one individual – not even Joe. Yes, his methods were outrageous and deplorable but Joe Jackson has his own demons. He obviously suffered from this same self-hatred and simply passed it on to his children. It happens all the time.


I’m not trying to point the finger at white people either because this really isn’t about what whites did to Michael – at least not directly. Hell, white people loved him! At the height of his career, they made up a huge portion of his fan base (and still do). They gave him their hearts and cash just like everybody else. And even though some people claimed he “transcended” race, when Michael did Off the Wall, Billie Jean and Thriller his skin was still brown. When he moon walked into history he had an oh, so Black Jheri curl and (even after a couple of operations) his nose still looked black. So the fact is that at one point in time just about EVERYBODY on the frickin’ planet wanted to look like Michael Jackson - except Michael Jackson.


He told Oprah in a 1993 interview that he kept changing his face was because he was “a perfectionist”, vehemently denied hating the color of his skin and declared, “I am proud to be a Black American. I am proud of my race, and I am proud of who I am.…..When people make up stories that I don’t like who I am, it hurts me.”


Whether or not he was proud to be Black, he clearly loved African American culture, especially the Black singers and dancers on whose shoulders he stood and the brilliant African American producers and artists he worked with throughout his career. Even as he appropriated and integrated the best from other cultures, he never lost touch with his own. He never had a problem sounding Black! He had no problem being Black. He just didn’t want to look Black.


Do I believe Michael had an extreme form of Vitiligo and Lupus? Yes, sure. Were there other treatment options for his skin condition available to him than depigmentation (blocking the enzyme that produces melanin)? Only a doctor familiar with the severity of his case could say for certain. I do know that many people find other ways to live with the disease – such as makeup. But maybe his case was so extreme that after a while it was just too hard to cover so many white patches. Perhaps he hid it for many years before he made such a drastic decision.


I don’t know the answers. But as a forgiving fan, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt regarding the fact that his skin went from cocoa brown to vampire white. The nose, however, is a different story. There’s really no getting around the fact that hacking away at your snozz until it completely collapses and leaves you with a gaping black hole in your face is just not healthy. Self-mutilation (even by surgeon proxy) is a form of mental illness.


Since his death we’ve learned that Michael suffered from numerous powerful addictions. Not only was he hooked on numerous drugs and painkillers, but he burned through money like kindling, dieted to the point of anorexia and was clearly obsessed with plastic surgery. I didn’t know how bad his other addictions were but with each “cosmetic procedure” it became more frighteningly clear to me that Michael needed help badly. So I devised a new plan.


click here for part 3


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Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Michael Jackson: Hating the Man in the Mirror (part 1)

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor
Daresha Kyi

Although it didn’t go quite as planned, Michael Jackson has succeeded in staging the ultimate come back. Between the new releases, re-releases, “making of” concert movie, tabloid gossip, and never ending tributes and memorials, folks just can’t get enough of him. His debts are finally cleared and his estate is flourishing because as much as we loved Michael in life, we absolutely ADORE him in death. Like those morbid, ancient Greeks - we love a good tragedy, especially one involving a “king.” Every Paula, Dick and Harry likes to weigh in on exactly how and why it all “went wrong.” Makes us feel closer to said king – and just a little bit better about our own little lives.

So now it’s my turn. I haven’t written an article in more than twenty years but soon after Michael passed, I felt an unyielding compulsion to address an aspect of his life that really hasn’t played a large role in all the discussions. A few individuals have referred to it obliquely but very few have properly named it. And there’s power in naming.

But before we get to that, I just want to say right up front that I loved Michael Jackson. I am writing from the perspective of an African American woman who fell in love with him when we were 6 (me) and 9 (him) years old. I’m not one of those Janie-come-latelies awestruck by his enormous talent at the pinnacle of his success in the 80s. No, chile. I loved Michael Jackson waaay back when. So I won’t even pretend to be objective.

I mean, what was there not to love? He was the most beautiful boy I’d ever heard or seen. With those soulful, liquid pools he called eyes; that cute little button nose; and his luscious, juicy lower lip he was sheer chocolate perfection. And to top it all off not only could he dance his butt off, but he sang like an angelic “old soul” who’d been through hell and high water but still had the purity and innocence of a child. It was one hell of a combination. Even before I saw the J5 perform “I Want You Back” on the Ed Sullivan show, I was smitten.

I was even going to marry him. That’s right. Don’t laugh. Out of all the hundreds of thousands of little black girls in America who dreamed of being Michael Jackson’s lucky bride, I was going to be “the one.” Oh, yes I was. Cuz I had a plan. First, I would become rich and famous through my own amazing talents. That would make us equals. Once I was a gorgeous international star glittering in my own spotlight he would come looking for me, intrigued by my beauty and brilliance. He’d recognize me as a kindred spirit, fall head over heels in love and together we would blaze a trail of glory across the heavens as we built a beautiful life and a powerful entertainment empire. We’d travel the world spreading joy and happiness as blissed out soul mates. That was my brilliant plan.

But Michael betrayed me. When we both finally came of dating age he only went out with white girls. As far as I could see he wasn’t interested in “sisters” at all - except as on screen co-stars, friends, or in that abstract, “I love all humanity” kind of way. It certainly didn’t seem like he was planning to marry one. At first I thought he was one of those brothers – African American men for whom white women equal success. But when he began to look more and more Caucasian himself, I realized the problem was much deeper. Like many people of color who grow up in a culture where they are consistently denigrated because their lips, noses, skin color and hair are not “white enough” Michael hated being black (or at least looking black.) And if he didn’t love his own blackness, how in the world could he love mine?

click here for part 2, part 3

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Sunday, July 12, 2009

God forbid Michael Okwu Break Character

This Nigerian brotha, Okwu is hilarious. Not sure if he is a chameleon in character…can anyone confirm if they've seen him at a party getting down on some Jollof rice?.........with his over annunciating self. My man does not break character when he mistakes Betty White for Bette Davis in the burial grounds where Michael Jackson might end up.




Unlike THIS dude…where character is truly broken




Or even here, brought to you by Tickles.Tv





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Monday, June 29, 2009

The Conspiracy Theorist at the Family Cookout…Michael Jackson Not Really Dead?

by today’s Urban Chameleon contributor

Yesterday our family had a cookout in New Jersey. When ever there is a gathering my uncle Roger stays putting me and my cousins on to the latest conspiracy theory whether it’s about UFO’s, Secret chips implanted in Asians, KFC making Black men impotent to 911 being orchestrated by the government there is always something.

His latest theory is that Michael Jackson isn’t really dead. Me and my cousins all responded, “Awwwwwww damn uncle Roger here we go.”

“Here me out, the clues are right in front of you,” uncle Roger says before listing it out for us,

1. Michael was referred to in the past tense before he was pronounced dead
2.Tito and Jermaine didn’t look that upset
3. The story from Michael’s doctor seemed shaky
4. What better way to escape all that debt

Now I’m sorry every time a major music artist passes people never want to leave it alone.

“Uncle Roger this is not enough to determine a conspiracy theory.”

“Why not? Michael’s people have duped us before putting out in the news how he slept in that Hyperbolic chamber to lighten his skin and then denied it so the press could spend more time covering Michael. Yall be caught up in the matrix if you want to but not me.”

My question is what is all this conspiracy theory knowledge suppose to prove or be protecting you from against anyway? Even if Michael faked his death the point is the man is gone. He’s at a cookout with Elvis, Tupac and Biggie Smalls. Let it go.

Though I will say one thing, in watching all the Michael Jackson news stories, tributes, E True, and CNN this one moment had me. Some attorney friend of Michael’s who’s name I didn’t catch but had me rolling as he brought back the moment of when Michael hung his new born baby out the window. The attorney justified this in saying that Michael was performing an African tradition like in Lion King where the new child is held up for the community and how dare people attack him. Hmmm?

Well it’s not quite a conspiracy but it damn sure is a theory.

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Friday, June 26, 2009

RIP Michael Jackson 1958-2009

Michael Jackson is one of those people who you never think about ever leaving this world. His music was there when I arrived in 1980, the theme music through out my childhood, took me to prom and danced the night away with me and my husband at our wedding. I can especially remember being emotionally moved by songs like "Man In The Mirror", "Billy Jean" and "Black and White" but not understanding why. In listening to some of his music again yesterday it was the first time that I really paid attention to the profound message in his lyrics addressing, race, self-reflection and of course love. When you’re eight these concepts don’t take precedent over perfecting your moonwalk.

You will be missed Michael Jackson.

"Man In The Mirror" lyrics

“Billy Jean” lyrics

"Black or White" lyrics



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