I don’t remember a world without Michael Jackson.
I was born in 1983, a year after Thriller came out. It was still the #1 album on the Billboard charts when I was born. As a little girl, my neighbors — older girls who I worshipped — let me listen to their MJ albums; when I was a little older and went to Disneyland and saw Captain EO, they gave me their old Michael Jackson posters, since they had long ago moved on to George Michael. I saw the Thriller video at a friend’s house years after it came out, but still found it terrifying — and wanted to watch it again and again. When I was eight or nine, a close family friend was stricken with brain cancer; she was six or seven, and best friends with my little sister. Her older brother and I were born three days apart, and our moms had been friends during their pregnancies. She adored Michael Jackson, and toward the end of her life, her parents bought her a karaoke machine so that she could sing his songs with her family. She died when she was eight. There are a few MJ songs that I can’t hear without thinking of her. I wasn’t allowed to watch MTV as a kid, but the older neighbor girls (who by this time were old enough to babysit me) convinced my parents to let my sister and I watch Black or White, arguing that it was a positive message that we should be exposed to. Not long after, we spent most of a family vacation watching the television coverage of Michael’s child molestation charges. None of us had any doubt that he did it, and I have a very clear (and strange) memory of my mom theorizing that maybe Macauley Culkin was somehow involved. Through middle school and high school, Janet began to eclipse Michael as my favorite Jackson, but I still bought HIStory and thought the Scream video was one of the cooler things I saw on MTV. When I went to college, I bonded with the woman I would live with for the next four years over a shared love of Michael’s music — or more specifically, a shared love of memorizing every move from his videos. My affection for the Billy Jean dance carried over to future friendships, and my current room mate and I still break into it whenever that song comes on — it’s common enough occurrence where we took to calling Billy Jean “our song.” In law school, I went to Egypt to see someone I was involved with, and we spend eight long hours driving across the Sinai, sharing his ipod and listening to Michael Jackson albums.
I don’t believe that Michael Jackson was a great person; I think he probably did molest children, or at the very least had inappropriate interactions with them. He had serious and fairly well-documented psychological issues; “man-child” seems to be the favored description, and it’s pretty widely accepted that he had the psycho-social development of a boy. He was an abuse victim, and very possibly an abuser. His childhood and his own suffering certainly isn’t an excuse for the choices he made as an adult, but it is important context when looking back at a life that was tragic, damaged and damaging to others. I don’t think any of that should be overlooked or whitewashed. But as Holly points out, “I don’t think we have to have outlandishly complex thought processes in order to hold multiple, conflicting things about Michael Jackson in our minds. We’re human beings, we have really powerful brains capable of complexity and nuance.” Natalia’s post addresses some of that complexity, and she’s right about holding onto the music rather than the musician. For me, in my life, his music was important. I loved it, even while I found the man sometimes repulsive but mostly sad — and I found the man sad even while recognizing his profound influence on racial and gender presentation.
There are a lot of posts up around the internets today about Michael Jackson. This one at Juan Cole’s place, about Michael, Islam and the Middle East, is one of my favorites. And this one about Michael Jackson’s influence in Albania is also a must-read.
It’s not that I’m “grieving,” or that I’m heartbroken over the death of a larger-than-life musical icon (“celebrity” feels too small a word), even though I’ll admit that my voice cracked a little when I poked my head out of my office to tell my supervisors at work that MJ passed. It’s more that, possibly more than any other artist, Michael Jackson provided a soundtrack for some of the more personal and notable points of my life. I still love his music. I loved hearing it blasting from car windows and stereos while I walked down the street yesterday. I love listening to it as I write this post. For that, I will miss him.
I was born in 1979, and I must admit that his death doesn’t hit me nearly as much as it does you. I associate his greatest hits-Thriller, Billie Jean, Beat It, etc. as being part of my elder siblings generation-the youngest of which is 8 years older than me. By the time I was reasonably old enough to really *get* pop culture, (not that I really do now) his greatest hits, not to mention the 80s, were sorta old. Not to mention everything else that happened in his life that made him seem downright bizarre.
There’s no doubt he was a very complex, tragic, uber talented person. Maybe if I had been born 10 years earlier, it’d have made more of a difference.
Perfectly stated… thanks for putting words to my exact feelings. My wife and I both woke up this morning the the bass line from ‘Billie Jean’ in our heads — very funny. For me, today’s acknowledgement of MJ is a silent one… I’m wearing a black latex glove on my right hand, with the fingers cut off. Somehow, it’s a better tribute than an armband, and it weirdly helps me appreciate him as a talented, flawed, creative, misunderstood, and ultimately enigmatic world icon. RIP, MJ!
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I was born about this time in 1984, and MJ was a huge part of my upbringing – just the music, thankfully no personal contact. I remember listening to cassette tapes of Thriller and Bad in my bed at night in the late 80s/early 90s.
I love his music, but I am completely disgusted by who he was as a human. Yeh, he was abused, but so was Janet and she hasn’t caused a lot of harm to other people as far as I know. I dunno, if somebody is a rapist I wouldn’t cut him any slack because he was abused, I have the same approach to molesters. I think MJ was just born sick.
I was born in 1980 and “Thriller” was the first record I ever owned. My mother would tape documentaries about MJ on television and, watching the video for “Thriller”, I would tell my little sister when it was safe for her to uncover her eyes (not that I was not scared myself!) Then I did choreographies on the songs from “Bad” with my best friend. We couldn’t wait to enter 6th grade to have our first English lessons and finally be able to sing and understand the lyrics.
That best friend of mine, who I don’t get to see or talk to very often, called me today. We simply had to share that moment because MJ was such a big part of our childhood. We were not grieving either but beyond the simple conversation we had, we could sense that an era was gone.
And that’s why most of us all MJ fans are so moved by his death. Beyond the man and what he brought to music and pop culture in general, his death brings back many memories and, at the same time, tells us these times are gone. It can hurt but it surely feels good too.
I think you’re right when you say that “celebrity” feels to small a word, Jill. And thank you for this lovely post.
It is remarkable how many people just can’t hold both in their heads at the same time, and need to either a) deny the child abuse or b) deny the greatness of his music. Both are true. Seems easy to me, but then again, I’m sort of obsessed with music and musician biographies, so I had to get used to the idea that great musicians can be bad people a long time ago.
Your feelings come out absolutely beautifully in your writing, Jill. This is one of the best tributes I’ve read on MJ’s passing.
Beautifully done, Jill. Thank you.
I feel a little differently about it. I hate that the music I enjoy gave his father the power to abuse him so horribly. I hate that the music I enjoyed financed his access to children and the ability to avoid prosecution/conviction. I hate that his celebrity means that people ignore or dismiss the voices of victims. I hate that even after everything became public he was still planning a come back tour, and that people would pay money to see a man who had at the very least sexually inappropriate relationships with children. That his music somehow wiped the slate clean. It is the worst part of our society and the whole thing makes me nauseous.
re: “For me, today’s acknowledgement of MJ is a silent one… I’m wearing a black latex glove on my right hand, with the fingers cut off.”
What?!?!?! Did you seriously wear that all day? Or, even for part of the day?
Though I am a little older, I felt the same way about MJ’s music. It was something the older kids listened to when I was beginning my elementary school career. By the time I was in 5th grade…he was already the punchline of elementary school jokes and became supplanted in my area by Beastie Boys, Whitney Houston, and Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam.
As I didn’t really get into music until college…finding college classmates, especially many Mainland Chinese students who were fans of him was a weird experience as I saw that as music for older kids and part of “80s” oldies.
This was furthered by hearing about a rash of high school classmates who ended up receiving MJ albums as “gag gifts” in the same spirit as a buddy dumped a Vanilla Ice CD on me on Christmas during my last year of high school. In retrospect….I’d much rather have MJ over Vanilla Ice anyday….
kristen:
i acompletely agrere with you.
100%
kristen:
i acompletely agree with you.
100%
kristen:
i completely agree with you.
100%
wow, how did those post when i didnt hit submit?
i was still editing.
sorry y’all.
[...] don’t have much else to say about Michael that hasn’t already been said. He was a hero, pariah, scaly monster, ugly punchline and fiery, pulsating star all [...]
What Kristen J said.
I feel a little differently about it. I hate that the music I enjoy gave his father the power to abuse him so horribly. I hate that the music I enjoyed financed his access to children and the ability to avoid prosecution/conviction. I hate that his celebrity means that people ignore or dismiss the voices of victims. I hate that even after everything became public he was still planning a come back tour, and that people would pay money to see a man who had at the very least sexually inappropriate relationships with children. That his music somehow wiped the slate clean. It is the worst part of our society and the whole thing makes me nauseous.
THANK YOU.
I want to vomit every time I hear euphemisms like “troubled” or “eccentric.” There is no other person on earth who would get such a pass for having inappropriate relationships with children. He admitted on camera to Martin Bashir that he still had slumber parties with young boys, even after Bashir gave him several opportunities to clarify or backtrack.
By the way, if Michael Jackson really was pure of heart and only cared about the children, where were the girls?
There is no pop hook catchy enough to justify any of this.