Baby, Baby, Baby

When you first met her it was “Hey, BABY! "



When you got with her, it was, "Oh, BABY!”

And now you are saying, “We are having a BABY?"

You had no problem saying give it to me baby
but now that I say that we are having a baby
baby, Baby, BABY
your tongue has gone lazy
eight weeks have gone by and all I have heard you do is rant and rave
as if I seduced you and you were a perfect gentleman well behaved
you wanted it just like I did
when I asked what did you want, you declared, "You," and claimed me as your bid
driving for hours back and forth to see each other at night
on the way home trying to stay awake because eye lids were closing tight
your walls show the scars and your headboard is my witness
it was all about survival of the fittest
because you were my weakness
and I was your sweetness
we undressed
our minds linked and our bodies meshed
and we survived
with our busy schedules burning at both ends managing to keep the flame not just lit, but alive
burning like a robust sweet smelling fire
my head telling me I should slow down, but my heart replied, “Don’t listen to your head girl, she’s a liar”
you facilitated boosting my self esteem
vividly illustrated to me what passion really means
as your stroke hit it right on the green
and when the ball made it in the tiny cup, I literally screamed
but now I am screaming at you day and night
you are edging me on, irate and you actually love the fight
you are playing the victim
and treating the woman that you once caressed at night, like scum
thought it was safe to not use condoms; tubes should have been tied
your sperm found my egg and when they connected they shouted, “Let's keep hope alive!”
and now that hole in one that you loved so well
is now the gateway of life, our baby’s birth canal
now you feel bitter
your feelings for me have shriveled and withered
now instead of holding me at night
you murmur about how I am ruining your life
Daddy-to-Be you are experiencing it mentally
while I deal with the mental anguish and I also experience it physically
but I will not let this bad choice gnaw at my core
what we had is jammed, nailed shut, water tight, closed door
I will also shut the door on my resentment
I want our child to feel loved and not sense our selfish childish contentment

Parents, you can’t disguise or harbor bad feelings towards each other from your child
because the child is you, both of you
both seeds infused together creating one new unique individual with its own personality
and somewhere along there lies some of the mother and some of the father
are you only going to love the part of the child that is you?
impossible
you did not create that child alone
you created that child with someone
it was a partnership when you made love
and now it is a partnership that you have to endure since you created love
the love for your child should be the foundation

and not what the other parent did or did not do
you have to learn how to get along
both parents
even if you are no longer together
you have to stop acting like you are an infant
and start working together to care for your infant

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved.

Craig

"December 31st, 1978
Was the date that sealed her and her mother’s fate
Her mother said, “Don’t wait up baby, because I’ll be out late.”
She was mad at her mother because she decided to break their date
They were suppose to stay up and bring in the New Year with Dick Clark
But instead the thirty something diva wanted to go and party like the freaks do when it’s dark
Even though the girl was only twelve, her instincts sensed something was wrong
That this innocent night of clubbing would lead to pain prolonged

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
It would now be a grown man causing a family feud

Sure enough the girls’ instincts were right on the money
Her mother could not see it at the time since she had found a new honey
But he was into specials, two for the price of one
He had the mother and now he wanted her daughter
He subjected the girl to things that you would not believe
That after he was done she scrubbed herself until she would bleed
Just trying to get the dirt off her shoulders, but still seeing traces of it on her sleeve

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
A grown man causing a family feud

Then late one night in February 1979
She felt like she was dying inside
Craig came into her room after he had gotten her mother drunk and passed out
Instead of letting him abuse her she stood up for herself and said, “Leave me alone you louse!”
He pursued again and thought it she was playing a game
But when she repeated her outburst, he realized that she was not lame
She was not a little lamb that would roll over and continue to say, “Bah!”
Even though she was terrified she would have rather died then again let him touch her
He backed off and she realized that she had won
Yet he did not leave her home and this troubled her

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
She was now fighting off a grown child abuser

Then one school night when they went out for a so called family dinner
She had cauliflower for the first time at the Sizzler
It was a blissful night full of conversation and fun
But when she returned home she felt like scum
Why was Craig still here?
She thought, “I told him no!”
“I don’t understand why he does not pack his duffle bag and go?”
She went into the bathroom where she had tried to scrub his scum off before
And decided that this will never end so I am about to walk through heaven’s door
She took all the pills from her asthma prescription
Then went and sat on her bed with good intentions
After reflecting for a few minutes
She thought, “I don’t want to die!”
So she went and told mother that she had taken the pills while Craig was standing at her mother’s side

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
The grown man will not give up being a child abuser

At first her mother thought she was joking like it was a game
When she realized she was serious, she rushed her to Harbor General without delay
The doctors induced vomiting to preserve her life
They monitored her and she still remembers them asking her when they saw something white
“Young lady, do you think that is one of the pills?”
She replied, “No, it is cauliflower.” A vegetable till this day still make her feel ill
After the ordeal the nurse suggested that the girl see a psychiatrist, of course Craig was opposed
He had the nerve to say, "This is a family matter that needs to be resolved at home.” The truth is he feared being exposed

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
A grown man is trying to hide his abuse

She did see a therapist once or twice
But it was not enough to cut or splice
Because on March 1, 1979, her mother gave her life to Jesus Christ
Then her mother told Craig that they were through
He was so outdone his plan had come unglued
He could not leave though without one final blow
He had the nerve to tell her mother, “Your daughter’s not a virgin you know?”
Like a 12 year old girl would actually want a beer belly thirty something year old man
Her mother was outraged and she went to the girl and asked
“Baby, has Craig ever touched you because if so I will call your dad,”
The girl knew that her daddy had a gun
And if her daddy shot Craig, then Craig would become the victim
She was playing the adult like she had so many times before
Because she had enough wisdom to know how things go
That daddy went be sent away to prison
And that she might be taken away by child protective services
So the girl lied and said, “No,” that she was never touched by him
Her mother walked away not completely convinced but figured with her fists wound up tightly in a bundle
That Craig made the accusations because he was disgruntled

Same old thing
But then something new
Instead of being abused by children
It was a grown man causing a family feud

That was the end
The girl never saw him again
After that her mother never had another boyfriend
Her mother and father are now both in heaven
They both died without knowing the truth about what happened
The girl found out years later that her mother told a close family friend
That Craig had destroyed her and that she never recovered from him
She divulged that life was never the same after that vulture
He preyed upon a lonely innocent female pretending to have morals and culture
And then there is that once 12 year old girl who never told a soul until now
Who would have thought that the winter of 1979 could create such havoc?
Now perhaps her peers may understand why she was so odd at times, it was a mask of deception
She was trying to cope during the day; while fearing the night because Craig was waiting at home for his reception
But this story was not at all told for sympathy
It was purposely told so that you mothers and fathers listen to me
Please think again before you so easily allow a strange man or woman around your kids or any children
Make sure that you know them fully because the world does not need another child abuse victim
Because I am that 12 year old girl now stuck in a grown woman’s body
When all I really long for is my deceased daddy and mommy

Same old thing
But then something new
I was abused by children
And a grown man that is still causing a family feud"

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Armando the Player

I met this nice looking guy named Armando once while I was on my break at work
Sitting at Kelly’s café having my bottled water and a chocolate cookie plump with nuts
I had on a gray BeBe suit with my stiletto peep toe pumps
This guy came over slyly trying to look at my bump
As soon as he determined that he liked what he saw, he came over to my table and asked if I was alone
Then he promptly sat down and then had the gall to put his number in my cell phone
And said, “ I love the French tips that you have on your toes.”
Saying he had a foot fetish and he just wanted me to know
He then said, “I want to take you out this weekend,”
He said, “Let’s go to dinner and a movie and later get freaky.”
Then he proceeded to hold my hand and try to hug me, even though I had known him for less than five minutes
The dude was acting like he just knew he was going to hit it
I pulled away & said; “Hold up, wait a minute, we have not picked out china patterns,”
“You just met me and you’re taking too much for granted!”
He said, “You got me all wrong baby girl,”
“I know you heard it all before, but I am the man who can definitely rock your world.”
I replied, “You are touchy and feely for a guy I just met,”
“This is real life and not a music video about soft and wet!”
He said, “You have me all wrong, just give me a call,”
“We’ll go out and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”
The test was I did not call him and he knew where I worked
He just wanted a one-night stand with all of the perks
I see him from time to time pass by my job
He claims that he just has to see me and I am his heartthrob
But his feelings disseminate as soon as he leaves
It’s obvious that I am not the woman who can fulfill his needs
There is no love connection and I will not be used
Or he would not just contact me when he is only passing through

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson An excerpt from my upcoming book, “An Everyday Diva’s Conversation of the Mind.” This is from a trilogy of poems called “Do Not Settle” All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

115 School girls pregnant at Black Chicago High School

This is in response to the 115 Black teenage pregnant girls at one Chicago High School...

“Are we creating another breed of girls
Again unable to handle the challenges in this world
I’m troubled
Saddened
Maddened
By the lack of disregard of bringing another human into this world
We want to repair them now
Why didn’t we prepare them then
The cycle spins
Babies have babies
The young are restless
With no viable skills
Other than their Madden & Halo scores

Intervention

Prevention

Is what we need

Males & females must realize

That when you choose to lay

The odds are that sometimes you may have to pay

For that moment of passion

And sometimes it does not lead to a happily ever after
Society is abhorred
But not to the degree of making a change
Only enough to offer spare change
Called WELFARE
And welfare often does not repair
It just keeps most locked right there
Where they are
To be limited
Because you first have to change a person’s way of thinking
In order to make a lasting impression
You have to teach a person how to fish
Otherwise, they will be back the next day for another fish
And again that fish, is called WELFARE.”

(Please see the video above & realize that the teenage pregnancy issue is relevant everywhere, & affects every culture, this is not just in Chicago, need I mention Jourdon Dunn, Bristol Palin, Solange Knowles, & Jamie Lynn Spears?)

By Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Am I MAD or Am I Mad?

Am I MAD (a parent who is both mother and dad because the other parent is not around for whatever reason) or am I mad both because I am a parent playing dual roles constantly or do I appear mad when I have to step into the masculine role to protect my children.
Let’s look at of these roles, I am both mom and dad, so that makes me MAD, doing my best not to intertwine the roles but sometimes my “M” is a bit too masculine and my “D’ is way too dainty. And if you are a dad playing both dad and mom then you are D_M?

How does a single mother explain to her son about wet dreams?

How does a single father help his daughter shop for a training bra or guide her when she first starts her period?

The father of my sons and I parted ways over four years ago, and since that time well meaning men often tell my 13 year old son, “You are the man of the house.” “Take care of your mother.” I know that these men mean well and are teaching him to be strong, and a provider. But it ends there, no other words are provided as how my son is to accomplish this huge task of taking care of a mother and two younger brothers.

That leaves me doing my best to find a balance between teaching my sons to always open a door for a lady, but at the same time making sure that my sons don’t appear soft or to put it more bluntly, become a punk.

A few years ago, I was visiting my son’s fifth grade class at recess time and what I saw deeply concerned and saddened me. The ten and eleven year old boys were on the basketball court playing basketball when one of the boys who was playing defense had the ball stolen from him by the opposing team. What did the boy do at that moment? Did he turn around and try to help his team out and attempt to regain control of the ball and possibly score points. No, that young man began to cry right there on the court in front of all of his peers. And these were not first or second graders, these students were preparing to enter middle school! I knew immediately that somewhere along the line that boy had not been trained how to suck it up, and not to cry over something so trivial especially in front of another group of boys.

So here I am at little league, flag football, and basketball practices and games, doing my best to teach my boys how to be a young man. And though I enjoy sports, I can never replace a male. (Just as you fathers, cannot replace those precious moments of bonding that can occur between a mother and her daughter. ) But here we are DAM MAD parents.

But the irony in all this is the same MAD female who is raising these boys will sometimes be perceived as too assertive for training up her son in the way that he should go, for having to cop a swagger, and get in his face if he steps out of line, Then all of a sudden that same MAD female is all of a sudden a b*tch .

So now, is she not only a provider, but she is taking on roles that she was not equipped to handle alone as a woman. She has to sometimes have to stop being feminine and attempt to take on the masculine role because there is no one else there. Most MAD’s want to be protected and loved by a man and instead they are playing the role of a man. Just as I am sure that many single fathers want the nurturing touch and love that only a female can provide. And notice I say playing, because no matter how MAD or DAM we become, we can never be both, but the other option is too fail, and we refuse to fail, because the stakes (our children) are too high for a father to be damned or for a mother to literally become mad.

In the end , we need to think about our choices, make wise decisions, plan and don’t live by the moment when it comes to engaging in sex and becoming parents; because being MAD or DAM is like a President without the Vice-President or Batman without Robin.

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Who Are We? Are We Pimping Our Black Culture?

It is perplexing that we as black people want to embrace our culture, but at the same time are offended when someone of another race tries to embrace it. Whether it is our music, urban way of dressing, dance moves, etc.

I understand why, perhaps it is because of the not the rich, but poor history of our race. Our ancestors for the most part were brought here against their will and were forced into slavery. Through all of the heartache, they learned how to survive and created a legacy rich in culture with the little that they had. Creating sumptuous meals from the scraps of food they were thrown such as bones left over from animals (neck bones) and pigs’ intestines (chitterlings or chitlens). These and many other dishes such as collard greens, pig’s feet, ham hocks, etc. are what we call Soul Food and our part of our beautiful Black heritage.

And the songs that slaves sung helped to form such music genres such as Jazz, Gospel, and the Blues which also led to other genres such as Rhythm and Blues and even Hip-Hop with its funky beats.

Now we are in a new millennium, and have more liberties and are able to embrace who we are, we are in essence a mixture of what our ancestors were before slavery and what we are now that slavery has been legally abolished. But many are still slaves in their minds, torn between the two, most Black Americans would not want to go to Africa, nor would they be accepted in Africa. But as we continue to learn more about our past, sometimes we find it difficult to swallow all of the injustices our ancestors endured and the racial profiling that still continues today, not only for not only us, but Latinos as well, need I mention Sonia Sotomayer?
Have we become so complacent that we do nothing at the risk of leaving our comfort zone?

We want to be accepted by white people as long as they don’t cross the line and start to carry on in ways that are considered only acceptable by Black people. We have a few token White people that we embrace in the music world, such as Justin Timberlake and Eminem. Just as White people have a few token minorities that they embrace in film, for example, Will Smith and Eva Mendes. But everyone is cautious to keep the lines clear so that the melting pot is still divided into shades of black, brown, and white, never allowing for it to become grey in any culture.

So then what do we want? We simply want respect and our culture to be respected. But in order for Blacks to be respected as a whole, we have to be respectful. We cannot act like a fool and then demand respect, because when an individual of black color acts inappropriately, it affects the entire black culture. But when a White person does, the person is focused on, not the person’s ethnicity.

Most people that are currently famous have wealth attached to their name. But do those who manage, publish, and distribute what those people sell such as music really respect the individual artist? Or do they respect what they get from that artist in terms of residuals. Think of some of the most influential musical artists currently, who respects Lil Wayne; many respect his dollars, but not him. But a person’s soul is not defined by their wealth but their character.

So if these artists do not believe in what they are saying, and are doing whatever sells, then they are pimping themselves, much like the prosttutes that I see when I drive down Long Beach Blvd in Compton, CA.

Are you pimping yourself, or are you as real in front of people as you are behind closed doors?

The Obama’s cannot do it on their own; neither can Dr. William Cosby, or Oprah. We are all responsible for our actions and like it or not, our actions collectively represent what is perceived by the media. The media does not look at the 20% of the black populous that is pushing forward; they concentrate on the 80% that makes our culture look bad. What percentage are you?

By Veniece Wesson - No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Music is My High

“Music is my high…
I inhale, I exhale, and I breathe music…
From Rhythm N' Blues to Classical (especially the romantics) to Rock to Blue Grass to Jazz to Hip-Hop as long as the Hip-Hop has some meaning to it other than, “Shawty, you look good, now come ride in my Benz and drop it like it’s hot.”
I said Hip-Hop, not slip-shot.
And from there my list still continues…
I like music while driving in my car, in the studio, or live in a venue.
My list of artists is so long that I cannot relay it to you in one simple Blogger column.
But if I started at A and randomly made it to the to the bottom
I probably start out with Al, who has translated "Love and Happiness into my mind,
As I have played many of his poignant songs time after time
Then I would throw in Bonnie Raitt in the "Nick of Time",
I have Cried Me a River with Ella
And then swam through that same river to get with that Muddy Waters fella
Lalah, Mozart, Stone Mecca, Raphael Saddiq, Teena Marie, and Sting,
For he is the "King of Pain" and I have often felt like his Queen,
And my music would not be complete without the King of Pop
I get chills every time I see his majestic facial expressions & moves in "Dirty Diana", and don't stop because I never get enough"
To Ludacris' "Release Therapy"
To the Emancipation or Mimi
To New Edition's "Heart Break"
To Ice Cube's "Today Was a Good Day"
Public Enemy, En Vogue, the Supremes, Amerie, Beyonce, oops my flow in not in alphabetical order, I need to rewind
I only type 55 WPM, but words are moving at 1055 WPM in my mind,
You see my memory bank is filled with the majestic sound of pianos, cellos, saxophones, and trombones
And the list of instruments goes on and on
Music makes me smile, laugh, cry, dance, and “shake it like a tail feather" in the privacy of my own home, it sends subtle and not so subtle messages methodically and harmoniously to my mind
Those messages remind
Me of the “Inner City Blues”
And serve as a reminder to the one I love that “I Can’t Stop Loving You.”
I don’t need illegal substances or alcohol
I need God & music
God gave me life
And music helps to translate my life
Going through my veins like water through a pipe
I inhale
I exhale
I breathe music”


Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

You Didn't Even Fight For Me

"You didn’t even fight for me
You just let me go
Couldn’t your gut sense the need in me?

All of these feelings laying dormant

Like a storm on the rise
Released by the tide of your loving force
But now the force and the pangs of waning love has taken the storm way off course
Brewing initially was a minute storm that would saturate a few weeds
And hopefully drown them out so that our love would flourish and we would better ascertain one another’s needs
But my insatiable hunger for you has turned into a tsunami
The end result being two broken hearts not fit for recovery
Because I cannot bear the constant separation
I use to take pride in my lack of need for a man
I could see the man I was dating every once in a while
Let him caress me and leave content with a smile
Because although that man was accommodating
He was in no way at all exhilarating
Besides I was a woman with purpose, and anything more would cramp my style
And then one day, just as fashion trends changed, so did the weather
And humidity seeped into my pores
Leaving me dripping wet at your door
My guard began to drop
Because you kept seeping through every crevice of my pores
Eventually reaching my carefully guarded soul
It was no exageration when I said that for two years plus I was not attracted to another man
You imply that it is impossible for a female not to be attracted to other men
But you are thinking from that bulge in your pants
I am not merely attracted by what I see visually
But also viscerally
Though aesthetics are pleasing , they are not the deciding factor
Just like I hope that you don’t choose a women by her looks complete by Max Factor
Men of various background have approached me and have all sunk like the Titanic, they had impressive portfolios
But in the end they were lacking the proper credentials
At least for what I needed
I needed a man to completely fill me in spirit, soul, and body and not leave me with gaping holes
When your tugboat came in to guide my cruise ship
I was hesitant at first
But I begin to see that your actions were natural and simplistic, and not at all rehearsed
And I adore your complex, multi-layered, soul that is bottomless like the deep blue sea
Now I am sailing despondently, never thinking that I would be blue in the oceanic because of lack of time with you
But somehow you touched a part of me out in ocean of love this summer
I’m so wet; I regret that a life jacket cannot save me
I was cruising along fine on my Princess Cruise line
Good times, stimulating talk, and wonderful friends; like fine wine
Mostly sunshine, little rain, no storms, and no love fatalities
Just like the weather you crept up on me gradually
You rescued my heart when your life saver appeared
And now that you’re here
You are not going to even fight for me; you are just going to disappear?
I never cared enough about anyone to care what they did
I enjoyed the separation and the separate lives that we lived
My ex was always at dock a and I never sailed out of dock b
Except for that occasion we would meet at dock c
The distance was never an issue
My ex and I could love and leave each other on cue
But when you and I are close at heart we are far in distance
And when we are close in distance we are far apart at heart
My head is filled with confusion, which is the devil’s workshop
You can’t see the tears through the oceanic, but my rudder is off course
My eyes are red and my voice is hoarse
And all I can hear now is noise in the bottomless sea echoing my heart beating for you
Yes, I am confused
Because I have become unglued
Thinking about you
And why this weather love pattern occurs on every blue moon
And why life and commitments seem to consume
Our lives leaving us with so little time
I don’t even have time to unwind
My work, my kids, and you have me consumed
I could see this coming, our course doomed
Because you chose to dwell in a complacent realm
And instead of loving me, you took a nap at the helm
And in the end, you didn’t even fight for me
How could you not fight for me?"

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Co-Depen-DEBT

The majority of our black community is failing, in co-depen-DEBT
Looking good without a cent left
Pay day to pay day
Always on lay-a-way
Credit cards maxed
Obtaining clothes but no land
Wearing Russell’s and Kimora’s Phat clothes
But owning no phat portfolio
Car registration’s past due because you chose to procure the status symbol of assurance
Driving a nice car with no insurance
Car’s not maintained, you hope it has endurance
Co-depen-DEBT where is your wealth?
If asked what FICO is?
Will your reply be is that some new kind of designer trend?
And then hop merrily to the store
Too ignorant to realize that a FICO is a credit score
They admire you at work and in your hood
Because on the outside you always look good
But you have no wisdom within
Otherwise you would save often and rarely spend
When you take off the bling at night
You know that you ain’t right
Because while looking good you neglect to pay your bills
Too busy feigning and fronting and now you’re beginning to feel ill
You may be top dawg or diva now, but soon you’ll be bankrupt
With your hand stretched out with the proverbial homeless cup
With a sign that says, “Will work for bling and trivial things”
Standing near the freeway off ramp, in last year’s trends
Top Dawg and Ms. Diva, you had better realize what time it is
It is time to wake up
And stop looking fly while being Co-depen-DEBT

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Diamonds Are a Girls Best Friend

"Diamonds are a girls best friend

Forever blingin' through the thick & thin"

"My best friends are my diamonds & me

Faux treatment has taught me to appreciate the finer things

Diamonds don’t bail once they adorn you or go soft
They always look good & stay strong & hard
Forever looking pretty & paying a girl compliments

Diamonds don’t leave for another girl, another gem

They are the real deal & no CZ man

The type of man that looks genuine on the outside, but is fake within

Not rhinestones or CZs , a girl needs a stone of a man that can cut glass & is built to last

Not a phony made of glass; Fabricated in some lab

A man that knows how to respect a woman

Not a "wham, bam, thank you maam" man

Loving & leaving handing out Cracker Jack rings as consolation prizes randomly as he walks out her door

A girl is worth a ten-carat canary diamond in platinum, engraved & more

Some women choose not to wear their best friends on their ring finger

Because one day a girl may let a soldier battle her heart for that finger

And if a girl chooses than her ring finger should have a best friend

Given to her by a diamond of a man who is all genuine… "

"Diamonds are a girls best friend

Forever blingin' through the thick & thin"

Copyright 2009 by Veniece Wesson. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Michael Jackson, the Link that United the World

There are few events that link millions of people together. We as a country and all across the world have all experienced our own personal share of pain and sorrow. We probably have all lost someone who was close to us, but to us only. Whose life was only celebrated by a small select group of people, for example, the death of a family member, a relative, a neighbor, a friend, or even a co-worker. And when that loved one died perhaps a few hundred people grieved.
We have also in our own right felt a personal loss when a public figure of great magnitude has died. But usually that person’s demise fell within a certain genre; whether it was based on social status, political status, ethnicity, musical style, etc.

But on June 25, 2009 shortly after hearing of the death of Charlie’s Angel, Farrah Fawcett, the world simultaneously grieved together all at once and was silent when the KING OF POP spirit’s descended above the Earth.

Years ago, I remember watching a television program celebrating the life of Elvis, (I was a young girl when he died and didn’t understand the impact at the time). So as I was watching this broadcast the thought crossed my mind what would the impact if Michael Jackson died. And then I immediately dismissed the thought. I realized that my mind was just relating Michael to Elvis because of their enormous popularity that transcended race, creed, and culture.

Moreover, I just never thought that it would actually happen. I just could not fathom the thought of his death. Even though I know that all people die, I simply could not imagine the King of Pop’s departure. I don’t know why, but I just thought that he would keep reinventing himself, and continue to come back out on top.

Many of my first recollections of music began with Michael and his brothers. Me and my classmates chanted to the tune of ABC as we jumped rope and played other childhood games. And then I vividly recall being mesmerized as I often enjoyed watching the Jackson Five perform on Soul Train and American Bandstand. I remember how my Uncle Maurice (two years my senior) would dance in the family room spinning around and doing the splits entertaining my family and visitors at holidays.

When I was a preteen I took modern dance classes and at a dance recital I danced to Don’t Stop until You Get Enough. But somewhere along the line, my peers got enough and moved on to Rick James, Prince, Ray Parker Jr, Luther Vandross, and Zapp. Jermaine had married into the Gordy family, and the Jacksons were no longer that cute little group of brothers that my peers and I grew up listening to.

But while my classmates and I were living the typical teenage life of football games, dances, etc., Michael refused to stop. And then suddenly… there was an immersion of a young man who reinvented himself. He arose into this untouchable musical icon and then the entire world took notice and recognized Michael Jackson as a rare talent, a gifted performer, the King of Pop.
Some talents can sing, but they cannot dance, or if they can dance, they don’t have stage presence, but Michael had it all; in just one word; phenomenal.

He found himself and suddenly we embraced him all over again, and not only the black culture, but the entire world. He was put on a pedestal that reached the sky. He was dancing with a glass slipper and that glass broke, because the pedestal was just too much for him or anyone to maintain. And when the glass broke, so did his heart, piece by piece. Michael effortlessly tried to reinvent himself to reach the next level, but it was “Too high to get over, too low to get under”, he was stuck in the middle, and the pain was thunder.”

Yes, I am not denying Michael was eccentric, but did we not put him there? We the thirsty blood sucking so called fans. Yes, we are fans, fanatics, always searching for something new, always wanting to top or outdo each other and in turn expecting that from the people that entertain us. But when those entertainers go home to their place of residence, their solitude, they are human just like us. Often we forget this. We think that actors, singers, musicians, etc. exist in a realm outside of the norm. But when you discard the mansions, the cars, and the lifestyle, underneath it all is still a man or woman, boy or girl, who cries, bleeds, and dies just like we do.

Fans like to praise celebrities when they do well, but when they mess up we want to not only criticize, but dissect each mistake as if we were performing surgery. But when you do well at work or school, you also like the accolades, and when you mess up, you don’t want criticism, you say what Michael sang, Just Leave Me Alone.

Stop and think for a minute, we all have places where we feel the most comfortable, safe, at home. It may be in your favorite chair, your chaise, behind the seat of your sports car, or simply surrounded by your family. But what if the only place you felt safe was on stage? Can you imagine, if your security was based in solely in performing? And then not performing for years, what that might do to you? What it did to Michael?

Mozart was supposedly eccentric but today, we embrace his music and not his odd behavior. So as cliché as it may sound please look at the Man in the Mirror before you judge him and remember Michael Jackson for the true talent that he was, his music and talent deserves it, for he was BAD.

By Veniece Wesson All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.