Michael Jackson was a proud black man. Proud of his roots, proud of where he came from, proud of the black luminaries who came before him, proud he could pick up the torch after them and set the world on fire. He burned racial barriers down to the ground and blew the offending ash into the disbelieving eyes of naysayers and racists alike.
And in typical Michael Jackson fashion: he was polite about it.
(Until he wasn't.)
He first did this unwittingly as a child, with his purple cowboy hat slanted to the side, singing with that angelic old-soul voice, then deliberately as an adult, still with that voice, his gloved fist triumphantly raised, shining like he had reached into the night sky and pulled down the stars, his skin still visibly, undeniably black. He didn't have to be a white man to be on top, and he proved that to himself and to the world. And perhaps for that reason, compounded, definitely, by the fact that he was so different and so gifted, he was vilified. Even before his skin started getting lighter, even before the allegations, tabloids and hack journalists had already started tearing into him, pseudo-psychologists deconstructing him--labeling him a freak, a homosexual (to be called one in the '80s was certainly a smear); they even went as far as printing that he took female hormones to maintain his boyish voice, and that he desperately wanted to look like Diana Ross.
The sad, simple fact was--still is--this: Any base form of speculation on Michael Jackson sells. The truth is neither here nor there--it's completely and utterly irrelevant.
Michael was a freak because he challenged societal norms--what manhood was, what being a black American man was. Michael identified as a heterosexual man, but he was androgynous and extraordinarily beautiful--he knew how to play up those doe eyes to maximum effect with a little kohl and mascara. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, and his mannerisms were gentle--he was often shy and retreating in the company of strangers. He preferred the company of children because they didn't demand more of him than he be himself; their exuberance for life, their innocence, resonated with him. He was an innocuous, acceptable, "safe" black man, and even white women dreamed of being Mrs. Jackson one day. At the same time, he was the greatest entertainer the world had ever seen--the aggression, the anger, the swagger, the genius, all manifest in his song and dance. He would jab, spin, thrust, scream out. There was fire in his eyes. People couldn't reconcile the dichotomies he embodied, and were even threatened by them. There was no one like him, no neat standard that defined him, no preordained box to shove him in--and that made him a pariah, an aberration, a freak of nature to beat down, so old ideas of how things should be could persist.
"He will not swiftly be forgiven for having turned so many tables." James Baldwin
Of course, there was also that darker impulse, one that resides in all of us--the impulse to tear down the object of our envy, so echoes of our own inadequacies can be silenced.
So with poison pens poised, they struck. Michael was an easy target, he stood alone there at the top.
When Michael's skin started getting lighter, tabloid appetite for him, which was already voracious, was further whetted. Here was something tangible! "Provable"! He was instantly labeled a race traitor--by both black and white communities. He was a black man masquerading as a white man, playing the white man's music (which can be argued, if what was being referred to was Michael's penchant for rock 'n' roll). He was an inverted minstrel. A joke--to be laughed at, to be ridiculed, to mock and tear down.
That impulse.
In 1980, Michael was snubbed at the Grammy Awards after the amazing success of Off the Wall. He won one Grammy: "Best R&B Performance" for "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough"....
But that snub helped fan the flames for his sweep in 1984.
"I felt ignored and it hurt. I said to myself, 'Wait until next time' -- they won't be able to ignore the next album...That experience lit a fire in my soul."
The most important Grammy he won for Thriller--Album of the Year--he dedicated to the near-forgotten black dynamo performer Jackie Wilson, one of Elvis Presley's biggest--if not biggest--influences, fully aware that by his merely mentioning Wilson's name on such a platform would have people wondering who Wilson was and scrambling for his music, which had at that point lain dormant for nearly a decade.
"Some people are followers. Some people make the path and are pioneers. I'd like to say Jackie Wilson was a wonderful entertainer... I love you and thank you so much."
For those who know their American music history well, it's an easy barb to get. Michael made his point subtlety, but effectively. In his soft-voiced way, he was getting the conversation started. For the people who were listening, they knew.
The history and plight of the black artist in the American music industry is well-documented. When Michael acquired The Beatles catalog in 1985, he also acquired some of Little Richard's music. Little Richard, a black entertainer who--along with Chuck Berry--engineered and pioneered the sound of rock 'n' roll, had been predictably cheated out of receiving royalties for his songs. Without preamble or stipulation, Michael gave Little Richard his music back. An interesting observation: Michael Jackson, a black man, literally owned, via music catalog, The Beatles and Elvis Presley, celebrated white entertainers of black-styled music. Yet another empowering, counter-intuitive precedent for black artists had been laid down by Michael. When famous white rapper Eminem maliciously parodied him in his 2002 music video "Without Me", Michael decided to buy his music, too.
Subtle, but effective.
Here's Michael with Chuck Berry.
"Michael came over for the shot, and without any prompting, their hands met in a Black Power handshake. Nowadays this handshake is ubiquitous in sports and pop culture; however, this was not always so. The handshake emerged from the black struggle for civil rights in the 1960s... It was both a secret code and a pronouncement of political struggle and solidarity. Chuck had certainly struggled, and in this handshake, perhaps he is passing some of his strength and determination to the next generation, to Michael." Todd Gray, Michael Jackson: Before He Was King
From Michael's 1988 autobiography, Moonwalker:
"Reporters would ask us all kinds of questions, and the Motown people would be standing by to help us out or monitor the questions if need be. We wouldn't have dreamed of trying anything that would embarrass them. I guess they were worried about the possibility of our sounding militant the way people were often doing in those days. Maybe they were worried after they gave us those Afros that they had created little Frankensteins. Once a reporter asked a Black Power question and the Motown person told him we didn't think about that stuff because we were a 'commercial product.' It sounded weird, but we winked and gave the power salute when we left..."
In a 2011 interview with investigative journalist Charlie Thomson, Michael's brother Jermaine revealed when Michael was growing up and touring with his brothers, they experienced racism firsthand on numerous occasions. Hotel staff would often claim the Jacksons had no reservations, when reservations had definitely been made. In those instances, the only "available" rooms ended up being the least desirable ones with a nice view of the alley and dumpsters.
A revealing interview from Ebony in 1984:
Michael: I'm prejudiced against ignorance. That's what I'm mainly prejudiced against. It's only ignorance and it's taught because it's not genetic at all. The little children in those [countries] aren't prejudiced. I would like for you to put this in quotes, too. I'm really not a prejudiced person at all. I believe that people should think about God more and creation... Look at the many wonders inside the human body--the different colors of organs, colors of blood--and all these different colors do a different thing in the human body. It's the most incredible system in the world; it makes an incredible building: the human being. And if this can happen with the human body, why can't we do it as people? And that's how I feel. And that's what I wish the world could do more. That's the only thing I hate. I really do.
Ebony: What you have just said is not only compassionate but compelling. How do you communicate such feelings since you don't make public appearances to express your views in public forums?
Michael: I try to write, put it in song. Put it in dance. Put it in my art to teach the world. If politicians can't do it, I want to do it. Artists put it in paintings. Poets, put it in poems, novels. That's what we have to do. And I think it's so important to save the world.
Ebony: Stevie Wonder apparently shares similar feelings, judging by some of his musical messages.
Michael: That's why I love Stevie Wonder's biggest-selling album called Songs in the Key of Life. He has a song on that album called Black Man... I just jumped up screaming when I heard that record because he's showing what the black man has done and what other races have done, and he balanced it beautifully by putting other races in there, what they have done. Then he brings out what the black man has done. Instead of naming it another thing, he named it Black Man. That's what I loved about it... And that's the best way to bring about the truth, through song. And that's what I love about it.
"Black or White"
By 1991, vitiligo had destroyed most of the melanin in Michael's skin--his pallor was startling. When the music video for "Black or White" came out, it was gawk openly and remark snidely. The media was obsessed with his appearance--his slim nose, his white skin. How ironic it was then that while he sang "It don't matter if you're black or white", the dominating refrain in the media was "Is Michael Jackson black or white?" and how important it was to really get to the bottom of it. Michael probably predicted the backlash, but his inevitable transformation was also probably why he chose "Black or White" as the first single off his Dangerous album. In retrospect, it was a brilliant choice, because it puts the content of the song and video into searing perspective.
Michael was a perfectionist, and as such, he was deliberate in his choices. Like he said in his 1984 Ebony interview, he used his music to communicate to the public. He knew how the public perceived him at that point: that he was a self-loathing black man who wanted to be white. So Michael, tapping into the atmospheric turmoil of the times (re: Rodney King), counter-asserted in the latter portion of the "Black or White" music video by portraying himself as a black panther, a widely recognized symbol of black empowerment. No one paid any attention to the significance of that, no one even noticed.
"The last four minutes of his 'Black Or White' video, which was broadcast during prime time Thursday night on the Fox Network, MTV and Black Entertainment Television, will be cut, Jackson announced through press release.
All three networks were inundated with calls from parents angry about the 11-minute video's final portion, which included scenes of Jackson grabbing his crotch and smashing car windows with a crowbar.
'It was horrible. People are complaining,' said Danielle Parker, a Fox spokeswoman, who added that the network's New York office received hundreds of phone calls. 'They're saying they don't understand it, and that it was pretty gross.'
KCPQ-13, Fox's Seattle-Tacoma affiliate, received 40 to 50 calls, said station general manger Roger Ottenbach. "The response was simliar," he said. 'Parents were upset about the sex and violence in the last part.'" (Phalen, Tom (November 16, 1991). "Jackson alters his new video". The Seattle Times)
"Black or White" starts off in comfortable, white suburbia. A flaxen-haired boy played by Macaulay Culkin is listening to loud rock music in his room upstairs, while his father--plump and pink, flannel and khaki clad--is sitting down in his lazy-boy armchair trying to watch a baseball game. With heavy, labored steps, the father climbs up the stairs and yells at his son to "TURN OFF THAT NOISE!" When he slams the door behind him, a framed Michael Jackson poster--fist raised--falls to the ground and shatters. Soon after, his son retaliates by rolling in two colossal speakers into the living room and plugging in his electric guitar--the chord he plays is so loud, he catapults his father into...
Africa. Black or white, it's the land from which we all came.
Wrested free of his middle class comforts (except for his lazy-boy which traveled with him), the white man is forced to acknowledge his origin.
The first part of "Black or White" is innocuous enough--almost naive in its stereotype-driven idealism. Michael appears, whippet slim in a simple white t-shirt and black pants, and starts dancing with African tribal dancers; gun-toting, horse-riding Native Americans; Thai dancers; an Indian woman; and Russian Cossack dancers--each scene a beautifully rendered theatrical production. In the last dance sequence, the camera pans out to reveal that it all actually takes place inside a little toss-away trinket of a snow-globe--a cheap ideal for sale--being played with by a giant white baby and his black baby playmate, both comfortably clad in fluffy white diapers and sitting on top of the world. More panning out, the world is now rendered in a childish, cartoon-like fashion, split apart, but then put lovingly back together by a white child's hand and a black child's hand, then sealed and healed by a strategically placed band-aid.
Enter: Reality.
Eight months predating the video release of "Black or White", was the infamous, unprovoked beating of black taxi driver Rodney King by a group of white police officers. Seven months after the video was released, black ghettos in LA broke out into riots.
Prescient.
"Michael sensed the violence and unrest that ended up exploding in the LA riots. Michael tapped into something at that moment. He was obviously not far off the mark." John Landis, director of "Black or White", defending Michael's choices in the video.
In the preamble to the second part, Michael, as the black panther, can be seen walking away from the "stage" and towards the exit--leaving all the bright, elaborate production behind him. On his way out, he growls at a statue of George Washington, revered first President of the United States, 300-count slave-owner, and signer of the Naturalization Act of 1790, which allowed only whites to become citizens.
It's darker now. Everything is cast in an eerie, cold-blue glow. Still as the black panther, Michael is seen emerging from what appears to be a jail cell, then morphs into himself again, grabbing then donning his trademark fedora. A spotlight shines down on him and stops him in his tracks, as if he's been caught trying to escape. He looks directly at the camera, dances, poses, then continues on, walking into a dark, debris-strewn, graffiti-tattooed ghetto. Errant trash and urban dust whip past his lean figure as a hard wind blows. He looks up, unblinking, his easy smile replaced by a hard line; his large eyes, dark and penetrating.
It's an inner-city Western noir, and Michael is ready to draw on the antagonist: the ghetto, or more specifically, the racism that lends it structure and life.
With a lightning-quick point, his dance begins.
There's a lamppost reminiscent of the lamppost in Gene Kelly's "Singin' in the Rain". The powerful symbolism here should not be lost. In "Singin' in the Rain", Gene Kelly is dancing and singing in a carefree and jubilant manner. When a police officer spots him, Kelly smiles self-consciously, waves, and continues on his way, undisturbed. A black man then, even as now, could never be so nonchalant in the presence of a white officer; he has to be hyper-aware of his actions lest he rouse suspicion and suffer the consequences. Michael's choice in bringing this iconic lamppost into his "Black or White" music video juxtaposes the two different worlds: the easy world experienced by the white man, and the black man's tense reality. Just as Kelly's dancing was light and joyous, Michael's dancing is ferocious and sharp.
Also to be noted: Kelly dances in water, Michael dances on the cracked asphalt of a wasted ghetto. But when the camera focuses on his feet, water suddenly appears. Water is the universal symbol for life. Michael's dancing can be compared to the Native American rain dance.
Michael is trying to bring life back into the ghetto.
And in his dancing, Michael is no longer just himself, but a conduit for all the anger and frustration experienced by those who suffer unjustly, who are maligned and persecuted on the mere basis of their race, the color of their skin. Crowbar in hand, he literally shatters race-hate graffiti--"NIGGER GO HOME", "KKK RULES", "NO MORE WETBACKS" (the graffiti was added later to help the audience contextualize his anger). He screams, he destroys, he riots. When he falls to his knees into a pool of water (as if to connect himself to its life-lending energy) and starts yelling and tearing open his shirt, the cathartic force of his rage is such that the neon-lit hotel sign "Royal Arms Hotel" short circuits, and in a torrential downpour of sparks, crashes to the ground. Again, the symbolism here should not be lost. The KKK appropriated Scottish royal insignia in an attempt to legitimize themselves, as if they were descended from noble, emigrant Scots, and not ignoble, ignorant "white trash."
Hotels were also notorious for not accommodating blacks.
When Michael is done releasing, he looks for a moment vulnerable, exposed, human. He breathes heavily, spent. He morphs back into a black panther, growls one last time at the camera, then saunters off quietly into the night, deeper into the ghetto.
The Simpsons appear--the cartoon equivalent of a comfortable, white, middle class family--and Homer tells Bart to "Turn off that noise!" and grabs the remote. There's static. A second later, Michael appears again and looks dead-on into the camera, daring us to meet his gaze, reminding us: That wasn't an unpleasant dream, or a show you can just switch off. Our anger is real. Wake up. The message on the screen: "Prejudice is Ignorance."
Nevertheless, a sensationalist media still tiresomely labored: Is Michael Jackson a race-hater? And what's up with all the crotch-grabbing?
Michael Jackson was a proud black man. Skin is but millimeters deep, a protective layer, a superficial glimpse of one's heritage.While his skin was being robbed of its telling color by a debilitating disease, he embedded into his art, just as he had done before, what dried acrid-ink on throw-away paper and the repetitious drone of smirking pundits would never be able to erase: his heritage.
His blackness went much deeper than skin.
"It's black, it's white, it's stuck with you..."
Remember "Remember the Time"? Michael cast black comedic actor Eddie Murphy and Ethiopian super model Iman as the supreme rulers of the Egyptian empire. And if I remember correctly, it was a Liberian girl--not a Scandinavian girl--Michael sang of his love for... How about "They Don't Care About Us"? The song and both music video versions are a blazing criticism of delusive white power and an impassioned whistle-blow, drawing attention to the plight and unjust suffering of blacks and minorities. Did the world so conveniently shut its eyes to his message? Was it too unpleasant?
The media, through a sort of collective, pernicious laziness, failed again and again to reconcile and harmonize Michael's dichotomies into a whole and come closer to the truth. They marginalized him, homed in on his looks, his Neverland zoo, and fun-housed his social message. Michael's militant outspokenness just didn't fit into the Wacko Jacko, white-washed narrative it had gleefully constructed over the years. Sadly to this day, the caricature it created persists.
Michael didn't turn his back on his race, never once shied away from being identified as a black man. Never made secret his major influences--James Brown (his biggest), Diana Ross, Jackie Wilson, Sammy Davis, Jr., etc. Through his words, he was black and proud. Through his art, he was black and proud. Through his actions, the only way one should judge another man by, he was black and proud. Michael Jackson hated being black?
No.
He hated prejudice. That's what he hated.
A private pain:
An outspoken pride:
"I am a Black American. I am proud of my race. I am proud of who I am. I have a lot of pride and dignity."
A heartfelt tribute:
A glimpse of his library:
When he was crowned king:
"And they manipulate our history books. The history books are not true! It's a lie! The history books are lying. You need to know that. You must know that. All the forms of popular music: From jazz to hip-hop, to bebop to soul. You talk about the different dances from the cake walk to the jitterbug to the Charleston to breakdancing. All these are forms of black dancing!
What's more important than giving people a sense of escapism, and escapism meaning entertainment. What would we be like without a song? What would we be like without a dance, joy laughter, and music? These things are very important!
But if you go to the bookstore down at the corner, you won't see one black person on the cover! You'll see Elvis Presley. You'll see the Rolling Stones. But where are the real pioneers who started it?
Otis Blackwell was a prolific, phenomenal writer. He wrote some of the greatest Elvis Presley songs. And this was a black man. He died penniless. And no one wrote about this man ever--they didn't write one book about him at all. I met his daughter today, and I was so honored. To me, meeting her was on the same level as meeting the Queen of England.
I'm here to speak for all injustice. You gotta remember something--the minute I started breaking the all-time record in record sales--I broke Elvis's records, I broke Beatles records--the minute it became the all-time best-selling album in the Guinness Book of World Records, overnight they called me a freak, they called me a homosexual, they called me a child molester, they said I bleached my skin! They made everything to turn the public against me!
And this is all a complete, complete conspiracy. You have to know that.
I know my race! I just look in a mirror. I know I'm black." Michael Jackson, 2002
Stop the noise already.
Michael Jackson was a proud black man, who did all he could to heal the the world's rifts and bring people together, who was ripped mercilessly apart for his difference, his unique worldview, his titan-gift--one he shared so selflessly.
But people forget: At the end of it all, Michael Jackson was just a man, a human being, who was driven by an indefatigable compassion and love for humankind, who believed wholeheartedly in his mission of love, and who carried that heavy, unenviable burden to his grave.
Yes, he suffered, but never forget his joy: It was once the brightest thing in the world...
Just listen to his music.
Yes, he suffered, but never forget his joy: It was once the brightest thing in the world...
Just listen to his music.
Listen to his message.
RIP
