Yes, I was one of those kids who wore gloves, and high water pants, literary and figuratively admiring and mocking Michael Jackson. I mean who didn’t. I mean, Michael in so many words was the man, a prodigy of some sort, the Beethoven, Miles Davis and John Coltrane of a new generation. But like many artist, he had many flaws. The truth is, Michael hated his blackness, no one disputes that he paid millions of dollars to bleach his skin and change the texture of his hair. Also, let’s not forget he paid substantial amount of money to have kids that shared no DNA resemblance to him. Think about it; there are millions of black children in orphanage homes in Philadelphia, PA, (across the country) why didn’t he adapt any of them? And, if Michael wanted his own children, why didn’t he use his sperm, should I say his own DNA. To a degree Michael’s life (the racial component) expounds or is a direct reflection of the current black generation. It is astounding to me when I see young black women as young as 11 years of age wearing extension hairs, or young women on Friday standing in line of Koran stores to buy weaves. Michael is an embodiment of a generation who suffer from the so called “bluest eye” syndrome. A generation, who longs to be white, in texture, because they feel a sense of shame in their own skin. A generation that one’s grew an afro with a comb sticking out of it, vanished. Either they conformed to the system, like Angela Davis, Cornell West, Eric Dyson did, or they died of drugs, marginalization, alienation, self inflicted pathologies, and so forth. The pride I am talking about is not hate, as preached by right wing black radicals but the sense of awareness of the past, and present; and the sense of justice and agape-love. And, I know what you are thinking, how can you talk about Angela Davis and Cornell West and Eric Dyson. How dare you? Well, think about it, they teach at institutions where the majority of the students are all, white, 99-96% to be exact. Why aren’t they teaching in black institutions? Especially in a society that produces minute African-American graduates per year, wouldn’t you think that would motivate, and compel them to excel. Imagine if Cornell West was a principle in Philadelphia, public schools or president of struggling HBCU intuition that is in need of guidance?
Let’s leave this subject alone…lol… until next time my people take care and of each other.

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