by Wilhelmina S. Orozco
Michael Jackson dies at 50, half a century, decades of which were spent shaping and enjoying the world of music. jackson was an idol that transcended several generations, appealing to the spectacular expectations of the audience - a rags-to-riches and musical lyrics that encompassed romantic to political statements about the world.
It was in my 60s when I first heard of Jackson and the biggest thing then was that a black person was rising to fame. Considering his skin color, many in the Philippines found it appropriate that he should rise to fame, the same aspiration of other dark-skinned entertainers in our country who had to combat the slant to "mestiza-looking" actors, actresses and singers, a product of the long American colonial rule in the country. Never mind if the space allotted to blacks in the United States was confined to the entertainment not the political world. An Obama as president? No way.
And so, it became an "in" thing then to hear "black is beautiful," and to listen to his songs and of other black singers. Before him the United States had produced other black musicians like the jazz musicians, both women and men, Ray Charles, and Nat King Cole, and the Motown singers. Even Diana Ross of the Supremes, Jackson's favorite was an idol then.
The write-ups about Jackson reveal how great the budget was poured into his promotion -- as his songs hugged the airwaves, catapulting him to the top of the music billboard charts all the time. T-shirts, posters, lately ringtones, and many, many more flooded the markets. Magazines always carried his photos and stories about his pets, his marriage, cosmetic surgeries, and even that legal suit about his "games" with some young boys in his farm. Regarding this dalliance with them, Jackson could have tried recovering and really savoring his boyhood, those growing years which had been snatched from his grasp by entertainment fame.
What does it mean for the Filipino people to see a black musician rise in the entertainment field? In the cultural field dominated by imported products showcasing white singers, white actors and actresses, and other white performers, it was great spiritual lift to see Jackson and to dance to his songs.
But then when he desired a fair complexion and had his cosmetic surgeries, I began to be leery of appreciating his music. I could no longer understand how he could turn his back on what he had looked originally. I thought then that he had succumbed to the colonial standards of beauty, instead of becoming an icon to champion not only black music but also that pride to be of any skin color.
Nonetheless, there were still songs that appealed to me which spoke of reflections on the self, a sentimental appeal to being around whatever dire things should happen, and that Christmas song played during the season, containing the lyrics, "...Why don't you give love on Christmas day...." Those were really touching on the soul and the heart.
May his music live on.
Helena Kadlcikova, Michael Jackson Portrait
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