Remembering Michael : The Night Before...

Greetings All:

For the last week or so, I have been in a bit of a daze---functioning, living life, enjoying the summer with family and friends, cookouts and summer fests and being productive---but still utterly confused and overwhelmed by Michael Jackson's death. So, bear with me, but I decided to take a few moments to sort some things out in writing.

Here we are, hours away from the global Michael Jackson Memorial and I'm still at a loss somehow. Now---truly odd for me--- I haven't shed any tears since I stood in my living room hearing the reports of his death at about 5:55 on the evening of June 25th. I heard about the hospitalization at about 5:20 pm, then heard the death announcement, then flipped through the channels and local radio stations, then read it on the screen again as Katie Couric stumbled through the report.

When I read it on the screen, I tried to shake it off and went and sat at a table and cried for a few moments on that evening...as my husband looked on clearly concerned about how low I'd go. But I rallied fairly quickly...but that daze has lingered.

Michael Joe Jackson---the subject of my earliest crushes, basement dance practices, school assemblies and letter writing campaigns---died nearly 2 weeks ago...and the astonishing coverage has been filled with endless intrigue, speculation and commentary about his life, death and legacy. And yes---I have consumed more that I ever imagined I would.

But Michael's death has all the ingredients that quicken the 21st century pulse: unprecedented celebrity, family/baby-mama/grand-mama drama, secrecy, deceit and denial, sexual and reproductive ambiguity, racial confusion, white denigration and black reclamation, delusion, madness and possible addictions, hangers-on by the busload claiming insight into MJ, MJ as lamb & lion/innocent & smooth criminal, unthinkable wealth that obscures deep sorrow.

It is indeed uber-spectacle, mega-tragedy, complex/annoying mystery... and the stuff of legend for generations to come.

And then, there is the quieter, simpler reality: the untimely death of YET ANOTHER Black son, Black brother, Black father, Black artist. But this happens all the time: in far too many communities on a daily basis, countless Black men die because they are unable to outrun nagging insecurities and ferocious demons.

So, why has one more Black male dying mattered to the planet? I'm not sure that this extended preoccupation with lil' Michael Jackson from Gary IN and Neverland is only about Michael alone. I think that we live in a global culture that is hungry for some unifying purpose or principle...something or somebody that we can agree to enjoy-- or consume-- or who can distract us from our own darker angels for at least a little while.

As hostilities rise between nations, economies collapse, security in any area becomes a long forgotten luxury, Michael Jackson's demise seems to have given us an opportunity to be on the same page, talk about the same issues, mourn the loss of familiar touchstones and have a shared experience in the midst of these fragmented, media-stimulated, but often isolated, lives that we live. I do believe that we have latched on to this man and this family and hold on tightly--- because his music, his personal mayhem, and his mortality unite us...because like Michael, most of us struggle to find our passions and live creatively, fight to grow beyond excruciating pain from our past hurts and yet we know that we too must face that final hour.

So, ironically, a man who once declared that "We Are The World" seems to be inviting THE PLANET to his biggest celebration EVER. Man, Michael, you do know how to throw a party, Bruh?! And in the midst of celebrating America's first Black president, I am STILL amazed to watch the world grieve with another Black man and Black family in this way.

And yet I believe that this unprecedented outpouring of mourning stems from regret about the harsh words, poor treatment, unfounded allegations or indifference that many had to Michael Jackson during the last years of his life. He became increasingly strange TO many of us and became increasingly estranged FROM many of us. But it didn't matter, because he had money right? Well, fame seems to have compensated him well---but constructing a fantasy island or furnishing mansions or reconstructing a new face (or new race) seemed to be an easier task than reviving a broken spirit and his managing arrested development.

So, as folks gather to pay tribute, many will remember his genius and his art. I too thank him for the music and excitement and innovation he gave us in so many ways. May the Lord provide comfort, protection, clarity, support and wise counsel to the Jackson family as they negotiate this next leg of their journey.

Take wonderful care everyone and do cherish the loves you have---most importantly the love of the Lord that is with you always!

---Nicole Anderson-Cobb, PhD