For Whom the Bell Tolls

In the week since Whitney Houston's death, I've seen a lot of pearl-clutching over society's misplaced values. You know you've seen it too; you may even have been among those posting it on Facebook.  Many people have expressed the view that we shouldn't celebrate Whitney Houston's life or mourn her death because other, less well-known people have also recently died (and continue to do so every day--they are relentless!). These other people tend to have nobler jobs than Whitney, and they usually aren't addicts, which compounds the sense of injustice.


When I die, here is who I want to care: my family, my friends, my colleagues, and my students.  That's it.  I don't want my funeral to be televised, because why should it?  A person's loss is felt by their circle of influence, and the people I listed above are mine.  Isn't that the case with most people?  A celebrity's circle of influence is larger than that of the average person, but in the end, people who appreciated your work are going to care that you died.  To appreciate my work, you have to spend time in my classroom. To appreciate Whitney's, you simply have to have owned a TV or radio in the last 30 years.  That doesn't mean that a teacher (or a soldier or first responder, usually mentioned in the Facebook tut-tutting) is less important than a celebrity in society's eyes, and it's disingenuous to suggest that.

That's why I really dislike the posting I've seen a couple of times that juxtaposes a photo of Whitney with one of a specific soldier who died.  Did that kid really want to be part of your argument?  Is he pouting from beyond that his death wasn't reported by TMZ?  Come on.  He didn't commit a valiant act of self-sacrifice because he wanted glory or headlines.  Complaining that he didn't get it cheapens his sacrifice.  I'm sure he had a lovely ceremony where he was fondly remembered by friends, family, and people he served with.  They will miss him forever, and isn't that the best that any of us can hope for?  Fame is overrated; Whitney Houston herself proved that.

I certainly wasn't her biggest fan, but I enjoyed her music and appreciated her talent.  We're allowed to feel something when someone dies, even if we didn't know that person, and it doesn't lessen the loss of anyone else. We all lose something when someone dies.  Remember what John Donne wrote:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

 George Michael seems to be taking better care of himself lately, but should he succumb to his demons, I'm going to be sad.  I will care that he's dead, and I will consider it a loss.  Don't waste your time trying to shame me into feeling like a jerk because I can't name the countless others who will have died that day; I won't be able to hear you over "Freedom 90" on repeat.