enculturating young minds

Anyone who knew me from about fifth grade on knows that I really liked Michael Jackson. I would sit by my boombox for hours waiting for one of his songs to come on so I could record it. I then actually spent my money and bought the Thriller tape. I don't remember how much it cost, but I was nine or ten-years-old, and I remember I had never spent that much money on anything before.

I forgot about him for a few years, but a few months before he died, I realized what I had been missing. As I loaded some of his tunes on the iPods, I also introduced the kids to these masterpieces. We watched some videos on YouTube, I played the songs, I (sort of) taught them the moonwalk. Let's just say it was an exercise in casting my pearls before swine. They liked Thriller, but not much else.

I decided we would give it one more shot. While driving home I used Mike's phone--the phone that is so much more than a phone--the phone that he has special feelings and attachment to--to use the Redbox app and find the Michael Jackson movie.



We got home, we got settled in and I waited for the magic to happen. About one minute into the show, Jessi, in all innocence, asked, "Is he a boy or a girl?" I should have realized this was a foreshadowing of how poorly the movie would be received by the swine.

Jessi was the only one that showed any real interest in the movie. She asked a few more questions about him and she danced to the music. Andrew, Bev and Christian watched intermittently while doing tumbling and wrestling. Mike tolerated it.

At some point, I let them all do their thing. I stopped saying, "Oh, watch this part." or "This is a great song." Also, I became uncomfortable with all of the crotch-grabbing. I knew he was a crotch-grabber, but I didn't realize just how much each song contained. It added up.

So, the moral of the story is this; I will leave my family be with the Michael Jackson indoctrination. They will have to discover his greatness on their own.