Learning of Michael Jackson’s demise has been a huge shock to be and a true awakening that the life I once knew is different. True, I have not been following his lifestyle, or songs, of late (heck I have only been following Dora and Caillou these days) but Michael Jackson to me is so much more than the stories surrounding him. His talent was beyond the time we lived in. Besides being one of the only celebrities my (late) mom and I shared, his was also the first CD we ever bought in my home. Michael Jackson was Black!
To us living in South Africa having someone of color up there in the limelight was a sign of hope. There was always stories of mockery surrounding him but my dad always told us to be wary of propaganda. When riots had erupted in a small town I lived in called Inanda ,apparently by Blacks who were told that the minority Indians were taking over the land, many Indians started a backlash. My dad, who had learned that these stories were spread to incite hatred between Blacks and Indians to test the new friendship between the two races and also strengthen the current racist White government, tried to douse the flames.
I was just 12 at the time and remember evacuating from my home to never see it or my town again (including my school) as it burned to ashes. More importantly I learned to not trust everything I hear as there is usually an agenda to those that spread it. Thanks to my dad’s insight I held no bitterness realizing that those committing this act were victims themselves. I lost my home, not my clarity in thinking.
What has all this to do with Michael Jackson? Propoganda. I have no idea what he did do, or did not do, but I do know that it is important to not let others do the thinking for you!
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