on Losing the King of Pop

Though his life was troubled, The King of Pop has definitely gone out in style. Today’s coverage of the memorial service for Michael Jackson was reminiscent of President Obama’s historic inauguration– right on down to the ticket lottery.

Uninterrupted, live coverage was on all the major channels. Televisions and streaming computers tuned in throughout workplaces. Twitter and Facebook updates featured citizen commentary on the likes of Mariah as she struggled to hold a note, Al as he channeled the spirit of an authentic African-American funeral, and sweet Paris, her presence creating a rainstorm of tears. It will be a moment to remember.

I often sit and reflect on the major events of my parents’ and my grandparents’ lives as they grew up. For my grandparents there’s Pearl Harbor or the Stock Market crash. For my parents there was the Supreme Court’s ruling to desegregate public schools, the day that Martin Luther King was shot and killed, or Elvis Presley’s death. As I pile on the years, I wonder which moments will stand out in my life. Some will because of their fatality, like 9/11, or historical significance, like Obama’s election. Others, like Michael’s death, are significant because of the lines that they cross—gender, class, race­­— and the sheer number of people that are affected.

Michael was after all, simply a pop star. Yes, his career spanned decades and he was a prolific entertainer. And yes, he was a humanitarian and wrote conscious lyrics, but his life was also riddled with “questionable decisions,” as Motown record label founder Barry Gordy pointed out in his eulogy.

I say this not to take away from Michael’s life, but to highlight how in his death, he has been able to unite more people than he was ever able to do when he was alive. This to me is what is most significant­­– the masses that have been brought together to mourn the life of a single individual.

You don’t have to be a diehard Michael Jackson fan. Whitney Houston happens to be the soundtrack to my life. But it’s moments like these that you begin to eclipse a bit what Maya Angelou so eloquently said through Queen Latifah’s voice during the service: “Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.” Public grief is a reminder that in the diversity of our life’s journey, the one thing we share is that we’ll each leave it at some point. It is not scandal, eccentricity, nor the painfully obvious lack of love Michael had for his Blackness. Instead, it is how the end to his imperfect life united people that this moment goes down on my list of significant historical moments.