Why are we so affected by the loss of certain celebrities? These are people we didn’t personally know who touched our lives in one way or another. I can think of four such deaths in my adult life I’ve been particularly moved by: Joaquìn Balaguer, Michael Jackson, Steve Jobs and most recently, Whitney Houston’s.
Balaguer was the president of the Dominican Republic on and off for 22 years. He transitioned the DR from the totalitarian regimen of Rafael L. Trujillo to the democracy it is today. I was too young to either appreciate or repudiate his brand of politics and many Dominicans have conflicting feelings about his years in power. But good or bad to me Balaguer signified homeland. The day he died I cried as though I’d lost a grandfather. If a Machiavellian statesman, Balaguer was a patriot, humanitarian, avid writer and famous orator. He was intellectually gifted. This, no one can deny.
Until I started using apple products, Steve Jobs was just another Silicon Valley CEO the media couldn’t shut up about. The cult-like following he inspired through his unprecedented approach to design and communications was commensurate with the way his innovations revolutionized how we interact with media, as well as retail design, marketing and advertising. He did all this without a college degree. A long battle with cancer took Jobs at the peak of his creative genius. It was a shock because many of us believed him indestructible, in spite of his frail image of the last few years.
Going back a few decades, Martin Luther King was the image of a movement powered by many, which signified the readiness of America’s most oppressed minority to reclaim their dignity and demand their civil rights. He was not the movement but was one of its most important icons. MLK had the gift of articulating a desire building in the collective for a more just, peaceful and tolerant America. His assassination was futile resistance to the inevitable change this desire had already set forth.
The deaths of Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston were sad because of the caliber of their performing talents, juxtaposed with their personal battles with substance abuse and other demons. Even when I’d never heard of MLK growing up in the Caribbean, I knew a few of Michael’s songs. As for Whitney, it was hard not to love her big, skillfully controlled voice and the melodies that effortlessly emanated from her elegant, towering figure. “I Will Always Love You” and “I Have Nothing” dance in my head as I write this with a heavy heart.
We are affected by these icons’ deaths because we recognize the gifts that came to society through them. Many times we forget that they are human and that although their talents are out of this world, they are not. Big personalities come with their fair share of flaws. That has become more apparent with the advent of the internet, social media and the instant communication we enjoy (or suffer from) today. Celebrating people for their gifts but not idolatrizing them helps us and helps them.
Let’s realize that the universe is full of creative potential and that this potential will materialize one way or the other, through people we consider icons or someone else. Be thankful for the truly gifted and appreciate their contribution, but try being your own hero. While you grieve, know that the creative source that gave them the gift you so admire has given you gifts too. Find yours, and make it shine.
R.I.P. Whitney. Hurt no more.
