As the Founder and Editor of Second Ladies, I believe strongly in a disciplined approach to content for the site.  Second Ladies was inspired by Michelle Obama and is intended to harness and sustain the enthusiasm about our phenomenal First Lady in order to build and support a community of similarly empowered women.  I am however, finding it impossible not to say my piece about the passing of another inspirational figure, the mighty Michael Jackson.  And so, I am exercising my editorial privilege to go on record and, at the same time, to respond to some of the requests that have come in through the site for more information about the founder, yours truly, Drew Dixon Williams.  

Before I launched this site, even before I became a mother and a wife, I was a music lover.  Indeed, I have spent my entire professional life in the music business.  I was an A&R executive (talent scout) at Def Jam Recordings and at Arista Records, and more recently I was the General Manager of John Legend's record label, Homeschool Records.  I subsequently managed Legend's protégé, Estelle, during her ascent from British ingénue to Grammy-winning Kanye West duet partner.  And now, I have the distinct honor of working with the inimitable D'Angelo, as his manager.   I work in the recording industry, because I believe (in my less cynical moments) that at its best, music is a testament to the fact that we are all dignified, spiritual beings.  Moreover, like all great art, music is proof that while "men are not angels" we are not beasts either.  So, the passing of Michael Jackson, and the loss of his singular musical genius, hits me close to home.  

While I struggled with the idea of writing this post and putting it on the Second Ladies site, I decided to proceed in order to share a bit more about myself (the woman behind the website that is not a blog precisely because I am not altogether comfortable opining on a regular basis) and because for me, Michael Jackson and Michelle Obama (and her husband) are very closely connected.  Above all, I am drawn to all of them by their excellence.  The drive that transported Michael Jackson from a four-room house crowded with eleven family members in Gary, Indiana and the drive that transported Michelle Obama from her modest family-home on Chicago's South Side, are two sides of the same proverbial coin.  And as for Barack Obama, his journey across continents from his humble beginnings in Hawaii to the most powerful office on the planet, was akin to political moonwalking.  

From my vantage point, they are all examples of what can happen when extraordinary natural ability is placed under enormous pressure and of course, when the stars align. They are the carbon that becomes a diamond in the mine.  But while it is clear that in the literal sense of POTUS and FLOTUS, there could be no Michelle without Barack, I would argue, that similarly, there could be no Barack without Michael Jackson.  As has been said many times in the barrage of media coverage following his death, MJ broke down barriers.  He was the first black artist whose videos got played on MTV.  His records defied the long-standing precedent of segregated airwaves to get airplay on rock and pop radio stations in the eighties.  Those milestones were significant to be sure, but in my opinion, the biggest barriers that he broke down were psychological. His gift was so great that he transcended race, not just in terms of format, but in terms of feeling.  All across the globe men, women and children let Michael Jackson get under their skin, even as his own skin morphed towards an ideal image of beauty that he himself was in the process of obliterating.  

Michael Jackson's influence on global pop culture was so profound that he triggered a ripple effect of seismic proportions.  He created the paradigm of a black person whose exceptional achievements could grant them, quite literally, carte blanche.  Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods and Barack Obama inhabit this MJ paradigm in his wake. Now, with the benefit (and tragedy) of hindsight, the truly enormous extent of his impact is beginning to come to light.  

Michael Jackson fundamentally weakened the psychological constructs and divisions that are necessary for racism to persist, so I cannot let this moment pass without remarking upon it.  This is partly because I am the African-American daughter of two politicians, a history major from Stanford and a student of popular culture.  I suppose those are the nerdy reasons why I care about Michael Jackson, but there is another reason why I feel compelled to speak out.  It is because of "Wanna Be Starting Something" and "Lady In My Life".  It is because of "Never Can Say Goodbye" and "Got To Be There".  It is because of "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough", "Off The Wall", "Rock WIth You",  "Man In The Mirror", "Remember The Time", "Butterflies", "You Are Not Alone, "We Are The World," You Can't Win" from The Wiz, "I Wanna Be Where You Are", "Ben", "Rockin Robin" and "Can You Feel It"... It is because he was so gifted and so fearless and so curious and so experimental and so incredibly soulful and so agile and so deeply moved by the spirit in his music that I have often found myself turning up the volume at the end of so many of his records to catch the spontaneous licks, the ad libs, the funky bass lines, to hear Michael and the musicians riffing, as the record faded to silence.  A friend of mine once told me that I have a habit of doing that, not just with Michael, but whenever it gets really funky at the end of a record.  I always turn up the volume to "chase the fade"...  So while Michael's cultural impact motivated me to write, his music moved me to do so.  

It is actually somewhat ironic that I am struggling so much with Michael Jackson's departure, because in truth, I have never really understood how he existed in the first place.  I have always found it difficult to grasp how someone who could sing that well and dance that well and be that fine (when he was still fine) and be that inspired as an interpreter of lyrics and that visionary as a writer and producer and that optimistic as a humanitarian could actually walk among us mere mortals.  When I was thirteen I saw him perform live on the "Victory Tour" with his brothers, and I remember staring at the stage thinking "Wow, I cant believe he is right there.  I'm looking right at him, but I still can't grasp that he is real."  Years later in the legendary Hit Factory Studios in New York I found myself exiting Herb Powers' mastering suite just as Michael Jackson entered. I did a double-take and thought  "I was just inches away from Michael Jackson, so he must be real."  But now that he is no longer with us, I am equally daunted by the concept of his departure.  I cannot understand how all of that energy and life could have disappeared from the face of the Earth.  How is it possible that such a stunning life force has been extinguished?  If his light can go out in an instant, then we are all woefully mortal.   

And so I write on my Second Ladies page, and I thank you for bearing with me.  And I listen to his music at inappropriately high volumes, and I thank my neighbors for bearing with me.  And I dance (or try my hardest) and teach my children about the Thriller video and the Beat It dance, because Michael Jackson's music and those indelible images of the dancer who defied gravity will last forever and have become an important part of the American cultural legacy.  MJ's awesome body of work is the thing that comforts us.  

I am not ready to let him go, so here he is on the Second Ladies home page.  Clearly, the world is not ready to let him go either.  Now that he no longer walks among us (as if he ever really did), those of us who were touched by him (everyone with a pulse) clings to his existence in the ether.  In this case, his music is the ether.   I am certain that in time, I'll be ready to revisit Coldplay and turn my swag back on with Soulja Boy. But for now, I'm missing Michael and desperately chasing the fade.  

Drew Dixon Williams

Founder, Second Ladies