<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="de"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Kanye West Is Not Michael Jackson via <a href="https://twitter.com/Forbes?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@forbes</a> <a href="https://t.co/zbLl1EF0OZ">https://t.co/zbLl1EF0OZ</a></p>— Joe Vogel (@JoeVogel1) <a href="https://twitter.com/JoeVogel1/status/993548156251049984?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">7. Mai 2018</a></blockquote>
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In a recent article for The Atlantic, acclaimed author and journalist Ta-Nehisi Coates compares Kanye West to Michael Jackson -- two colossally talented black artists who abandoned their race for "white freedom." Kanye himself has long expressed admiration for Jackson, name-dropping him in numerous songs and proclaiming himself the MJ of his generation. But does West's public embrace of Donald Trump and assertion that slavery was a choice really merit comparison to the King of Pop?
Like many kids growing up in the 80s, Coates saw Michael Jackson as a kind of God.
Michael Jackson mediated gang wars; Michael Jackson was the zombie king; Michael Jackson tapped his foot and stones turned to light. Even his accouterment felt beyond me—the studded jacket, the sparkling glove, the leather pants—raiment of the divine, untouchable by me, a mortal child who squinted to see past Saturday.
Yet over time, Coates (and his mother) interpreted Jackson's changing appearance as racial rejection.
If the black man’s God was not dead, he surely was dying. And he had always been dying—dying to be white. That was what my mother said, that you could see the dying all over his face, the decaying, the thinning, that he was disappearing into something white, desiccating into something white, erasing himself, so that we would forget that he had once been Africa beautiful and Africa brown...
Coates sees a similar trajectory in West. Like Jackson, Coates argues, West is an artist of near-unrivaled genius. But like Jackson, he allowed fame and adulation to distort his sense of reality. West, he contends, has gradually descended into a kind of insular "Sunken Place" in which white approval is the price of the ticket and personal freedom comes at the expense of black consciousness. Certainly, there is some truth to the corrosive effects of celebrity, which can be particularly fraught for African-Americans.
Yet the connection Coates draws between Jackson and West breaks down if you look at it more closely. For all the changes to his physical appearance, Jackson never chose "collaboration" with white supremacy. He never turned his back on his racial heritage. In fact, many have noted that his racial identification grew stronger as his career progressed.
"What Kanye West seeks is what Michael Jackson sought—liberation from the dictates of that we," asserts Coates. Jackson, however, never wanted liberation from his people or his heritage. In fact, over a decade after he broke down racial barriers at MTV, he was releasing songs and videos like TDCAU.
A collaboration with filmmaker Spike Lee, "They Don't Care About Us" has been used as an anthem for the Black Lives Matter movement. The song is not an anomaly. Check out the visuals and messaging from "Bad," "Remember the Time," and "Jam." Check out the lyrics to "Scream," "2Bad," and "History." Check out Jackson's interview with Oprah, in which he declares unequivocally that he is proud to be a black man.
Moreover, unlike Kanye West, Jackson was not ignorant. His personal library contained tens of thousands of books, many on African American history. Jackson may have been insulated by his fame; but he was deeply curious about the world. He read about Africa; he read about slavery; he read about Jim Crow and the civil rights movement; he read about the history of black music and art; he read -- and watched documentaries -- about Jack Johnson, Martin Luther King, Muhammad Ali, and Nelson Mandela, among hundreds of others.
What Jackson demonstrated is that race is about more than physical appearance. His medical records and autopsy confirmed that he suffered from vitiligo, a condition that causes white patches on the skin. That disease was not a choice.
No celebrity-artist, of course, is immune to lapses of judgment. Jackson had his share. But it is unfair, given the evidence, to say he wanted "white freedom."
Jackson wanted racial justice and called for it throughout his career -- in interviews, actions, songs, videos, and performances. That's a choice -- and legacy -- Kanye West could learn from.
<script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
In a recent article for The Atlantic, acclaimed author and journalist Ta-Nehisi Coates compares Kanye West to Michael Jackson -- two colossally talented black artists who abandoned their race for "white freedom." Kanye himself has long expressed admiration for Jackson, name-dropping him in numerous songs and proclaiming himself the MJ of his generation. But does West's public embrace of Donald Trump and assertion that slavery was a choice really merit comparison to the King of Pop?
Like many kids growing up in the 80s, Coates saw Michael Jackson as a kind of God.
Michael Jackson mediated gang wars; Michael Jackson was the zombie king; Michael Jackson tapped his foot and stones turned to light. Even his accouterment felt beyond me—the studded jacket, the sparkling glove, the leather pants—raiment of the divine, untouchable by me, a mortal child who squinted to see past Saturday.
Yet over time, Coates (and his mother) interpreted Jackson's changing appearance as racial rejection.
If the black man’s God was not dead, he surely was dying. And he had always been dying—dying to be white. That was what my mother said, that you could see the dying all over his face, the decaying, the thinning, that he was disappearing into something white, desiccating into something white, erasing himself, so that we would forget that he had once been Africa beautiful and Africa brown...
Coates sees a similar trajectory in West. Like Jackson, Coates argues, West is an artist of near-unrivaled genius. But like Jackson, he allowed fame and adulation to distort his sense of reality. West, he contends, has gradually descended into a kind of insular "Sunken Place" in which white approval is the price of the ticket and personal freedom comes at the expense of black consciousness. Certainly, there is some truth to the corrosive effects of celebrity, which can be particularly fraught for African-Americans.
Yet the connection Coates draws between Jackson and West breaks down if you look at it more closely. For all the changes to his physical appearance, Jackson never chose "collaboration" with white supremacy. He never turned his back on his racial heritage. In fact, many have noted that his racial identification grew stronger as his career progressed.
"What Kanye West seeks is what Michael Jackson sought—liberation from the dictates of that we," asserts Coates. Jackson, however, never wanted liberation from his people or his heritage. In fact, over a decade after he broke down racial barriers at MTV, he was releasing songs and videos like TDCAU.
A collaboration with filmmaker Spike Lee, "They Don't Care About Us" has been used as an anthem for the Black Lives Matter movement. The song is not an anomaly. Check out the visuals and messaging from "Bad," "Remember the Time," and "Jam." Check out the lyrics to "Scream," "2Bad," and "History." Check out Jackson's interview with Oprah, in which he declares unequivocally that he is proud to be a black man.
Moreover, unlike Kanye West, Jackson was not ignorant. His personal library contained tens of thousands of books, many on African American history. Jackson may have been insulated by his fame; but he was deeply curious about the world. He read about Africa; he read about slavery; he read about Jim Crow and the civil rights movement; he read about the history of black music and art; he read -- and watched documentaries -- about Jack Johnson, Martin Luther King, Muhammad Ali, and Nelson Mandela, among hundreds of others.
What Jackson demonstrated is that race is about more than physical appearance. His medical records and autopsy confirmed that he suffered from vitiligo, a condition that causes white patches on the skin. That disease was not a choice.
No celebrity-artist, of course, is immune to lapses of judgment. Jackson had his share. But it is unfair, given the evidence, to say he wanted "white freedom."
Jackson wanted racial justice and called for it throughout his career -- in interviews, actions, songs, videos, and performances. That's a choice -- and legacy -- Kanye West could learn from.