When I was 5 my grandmother, mother and I went to Epcot. A trip I hardly remember other then a string of photographs that take me back to a particular memory. But anytime someone says “Michael Jackson” I cower in fear and remember with vivid authority… THE Captain EO at Epcot. 

 “Captain EO” stared Michael Jackson and action on the screen extended into the audience, including asteroids, lasers, laser impacts, smoke effects, and starfields that filled the theater. These effects resulted in the seventeen-minute film running in Disney parks between 1986-1996. Perfectly  “age appropriate” for a 5 year old in the early 90’s.  Nahhhtttt. 

Upon exiting the film, with my mother and grandmother. I was questioned about the experience and what I thought? I looked up at my grandmother and stated the following  6 words that I would later regret for the rest of my life. 

“I want to marry Michael Jackson” 

Now this is when Michael Jackson was still black, had a normal nose, and didn’t have child molestation allegations stacked up against him. For a 5 year old. He seemed like a pretty good catch.

My determining he would be  suitable husband was based on the these key characteristics. (Handsome guy saves “the universe” wearing a white patent leather suit by singing and dancing. Not only does all “magical-ness” happen. Michael does all this while maintaining a perfectly slick jerry curl)

So my response was nothing short out of the ordinary given the time frame.  

Now what happened next might come as a shock to some readers. Brace yourself.

My “nonnie”  looked down at me without hesitation…lifted her hand and slapped me across the face…It was the slap that was literally heard throughout the world…the magical world of Epcot. 

“Don’t talk like that” she scowled. 

My mother was “outraged” 

(Because what’s disney in the early 90’s without a child screaming and sobbing in the middle of epcot?)

My mother was livid… Not because I was sobbing from the child abuse. No….not because she slapped me in the middle of the happiest place on earth..Not because her fanny pack was on to tight cutting of circulation to her lower extremities…

Because my grandmother was admittedly a “racist.” The entire vacation was left with my mother and grandmother fighting over the “race” of my future husband. 

This starting the great debacle between my mother and grandmother of “racism.” From that point forward. My grandmother lived in fear that I would one day “marry a black man.” and my mother lived in fear that I would live in a world where “racism” still existed. 

Now since Michael jackson lived a pretty quiet life in the mid 90’s up until his death. You can imagine how many times this story was NOT brought up during key pivotal moments of my life… Wait no…just kidding. 

You see, every time Michael jackson was on the news, had a new hot single or married the creepy king of pops daughter. My grandmother would bring up his discretions and how she was doing my mother “a favor” thus…This would then spin of into a series of arguments, slammed doors and swear words and the ongoing dysfunctional of my family. And my sheer and utter remorse for ever having opened by stupid 5 year old mouth. 

Now 20 years later.  My mother is turning into her mother. Only instead of living with fear of me marrying a black man….She lives with daily fear that I won’t get married.

To anyone….

At this point….I’m 28 and she’s grandchild-less. She’s desperate. She continues to tell me despite everything, despite her mother, that race doesn’t bother her.

That I should just find “anyone” to marry me.

… “even if it is a woman” 


Disclaimer: we do not in anyway promote or condone child abuse. Don’t call DSS. 


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  1. And oh look, I’m single too! We should marry each other. Maybe that smooth John Legend would donate so we could have a child!


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