MICHAEL JACKSON: Memories of my Childhood
When I look back on my childhood, it is not an idyllic memories. My relationship with my father was strained , and my childhood was a difficult time for me emotionally . I started performing when I was five, and my father - a hard man - I pushed my brothers and me hard , from the earliest age , to be the best performers we could be.
Although we have all worked hard to carry out, never really complimented me . If I did a great show , I said it was a good show. And if I did a show well , he said nothing at all. He seemed intent , above all , for making us a commercial success . And at that he was more than adept. My father was a business genius and my brothers and I owe our professional success, in no small measure , to the forceful way that he pushed us . He trained me as a showman and under his guidance I could not miss a step .
Those of you who are familiar with the Jackson Five know that since he began performing at that tender age I have not stopped dancing or singing. But while performing and making music undoubtedly remain one of my greatest joys , when I was young I wanted more than anything to be a typical little boy . I wanted to build tree houses , have water balloon fights , and play hide -n -seek with my friends. But fate had otherwise, and all I could do was envy the laughter and playtime that seemed to be happening around me.
There was no respite from my professional life. But on Sundays I would go "pioneer" , the term used for the missionary work that Jehovah's Witnesses . That was when I had the chance to see the magic of childhood of others.
Since I was already a celebrity , I had to wear a fat suit costume , wig, beard and glasses and we would spend the day in the suburbs of Southern California, going door to door or making the rounds of shopping malls , distributing our Watchtower magazine . I loved to set foot in all those regular suburban houses and catch sight of La- Z -Boy , shag carpets and chairs children playing Monopoly and grandmas baby sitter and all those wonderful , ordinary and starry scenes of everyday life. Many , I know, would argue that these things are no big deal. But for me were fascinating - because they symbolize , for me, a family life that seemed to be lost .
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My father was not openly affectionate with us, but he would show their love in different ways. I remember once when I was about four years, we were in a little carnival and he picked me up and put me on a pony. It was a small gesture, probably something he forgot five minutes later. But because in a moment I have this special place in my heart for him . Because that's how kids are , the little things mean so much to them and for me , that moment was everything. It was a gesture that showed his affection and love. I just lived that time , but it made me feel good , him and the world.
And I have other memories too, other gestures , however imperfect , that showed his love for us . When I was a child, I had a real sweet tooth - we all did . I loved eating glazed donuts and my father knew. So every few weeks I would come downstairs in the morning and on the kitchen counter was a bag of glazed donuts - no , no explanation , just the donuts. It was like a fairy godmother had visited our kitchen. It was like Santa Claus. Sometimes I would think about staying up late so I could see him leave them there , but like with Santa Claus, did not want to ruin the magic for fear that he would never do it again.
I think now that my father had to leave the donuts in secret at night so no one would catch him off guard . I was scared of human emotion , he did not understand or know how to deal with it. But he knew donuts.
And when I allow the floodgates to open, there are other memories that come rushing back , memories of other tiny gestures , however imperfect , that showed that he did what he could.
In hindsight and maturity , I have come to see that even my father 's harshness was a kind of love. An imperfect , of course love, but love nonetheless . He pushed me because he loved me . He pushed me because he wanted me to have more than I had, and I wanted my life to be better than his ever was .
It has taken me a while to realize this, but now I feel the resentment of my childhood , finally being put to rest. My bitterness has been replaced by the blessing , and instead of my anger , I have found absolution. And with this knowledge, my father loved his children , I have found peace.
