Michael Jackson’s only daughter Paris proud of African-American roots, identifies as black

Paris Jackson, the only daughter of late pop star Michael Jackson, opened up about her African-American roots and how proud she is of that, as well as the criticism she received.

Paris, 25, was born to parents Billie Jean hitmaker and Debbie Rowe in 1998.

Over the years, there have been speculations that Jackson wasn’t the biological father of his three children, Paris and her two brothers, Bigi, 22, and Prince, 27. This was due to the fact that that many couldn’t see any resemblance between the late star and the kids, especially Paris who has white skin, light eyes and now bleached-blond hair.

instagram/parisjackson/

The kids were very close with their father who went to great lengths to protect them from media scrutiny. His measures were unlike, however. He would show his son Bigi to the public with his face covered with a blanket, causing him troubles while growing up because his friends often teased him. He now prefers to be called Bigi.

Following the star’s death in 2009, his children were tossed alone in the public eye, turning them a highly profitable prey for the media that were eager to share their photos and followed their every step.

This experience left Paris battling a post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

“I experience audio hallucinations, sometimes, with camera clicks and severe paranoia and have been going to therapy for a lot of things, but that included,” she shared.

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By age 15, Paris attempted suicide “multiple times” and in 2019 she was admitted at a treatment facility. “It was just self-hatred…Low self-esteem, thinking that I couldn’t do anything right, not thinking I was worthy of living anymore.”

Today, she’s a successful musician who follows into her father’s footsteps. Over the years, she has also walked the runway for famous brands such as Chanel. Paris is a member of the band The Soundflowers.

“Everyone in my family does music. I mean, I’m a Jackson,” she said in 2020. “It makes sense that I’m a musician but like, a Jackson doing folk indie?”

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Paris is very close to her brothers and looks up to Prince. “He’s everything to me, you know?” In 2020, she told People of her relationship with her older brother. “I’ve always looked up to him and always wanted his approval and everything, and wanted to be more like him.”

He loves and supports his younger sister as much. “Basically, as a person, she is who my dad is. The only thing that’s different would be her age and her gender,” he said of Paris, adding that she’s similar to her father “in all of her strengths, and almost all of her weaknesses as well. She’s very passionate.”

The physical appearance of the King of Pop underwent significant changes over the course of his life and many accused him of bleaching his skin, which was considerably darker in his younger days, but he claimed he had never done anything to his skin and that it turning white was a result of Vitiligo, during an Oprah interview in 1993.

“I am proud of my race. I am proud of who I am,” Jackson told Winfrey at the time.

YouTube/ jimmyfallon

Back in 2017, speaking of herself, Paris told Rolling Stone magazine she “considers [herself] black,” and that “[Michael] would look me in the eyes and he’d point his finger at me and he’d be like, ‘You’re black. Be proud of your roots.’”

“Most people that don’t know me call me white. I’ve got light skin and, especially since I’ve had my hair blond, I look like I was born in Finland or something,” she said. “And I’d be like, ‘okay, he’s my dad, why would he lie to me?’ So I just believe what he told me. [Because], to my knowledge, he’s never lied to me.”

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This declaration of race triggered criticism on Paris. Among the rest, it was host Wendy William’s that mocked Paris’ statement.

 “I get that she considers herself black and everything, but I’m just talking about the visual because you know…black is not what you call yourself, it’s what the cops see you when they got steel to your neck on the turnpike.”

She added: “It’s what they see. But that’s cute and good for her.”

I Offered a Homeless Man a Job out of Desperation — the Next Morning, I Was Shocked by What He Had Done to My Office

Facing the collapse of his career and his family’s business, Jason made a desperate decision: he hired a homeless man to pose as a consultant for one crucial meeting. Little did he know, that unlikely move would turn out to be the key to saving everything he had worked for.

I was out of time. The words my father had said to me last night played over and over in my head like a broken record: “Fix this or you’re out.” Simple. Cold. Final.

A serious man | Source: Pexels

A serious man | Source: Pexels

Our company wasn’t just any company. It was the family business. My grandfather started it, my dad built it up, and now I was supposed to keep it going. “Supposed to,” being the key phrase.

I could still picture his face, hard as stone. He was the boss, not just of the company, but of the family. And when he made a decision, it was done. No arguments. No excuses.

A sad man | Source: Pexels

A sad man | Source: Pexels

I glanced at my watch. Twenty-four hours. That’s all I had left to fill the specialist position or I was done. Gone. Finished.

The problem was, no one wanted the job. It wasn’t easy. I needed a real genius, someone who knew the ins and outs of the system we were developing.

A young man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A young man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

The contract was bigger than anything our company had ever handled. If we messed it up, the whole business could go under. And right now, it looked like that was exactly what was going to happen.

I had spent six months searching for the right person. Every interview was a disaster. Too inexperienced, not skilled enough, or just plain wrong for the job. And now, the clock was ticking.

A man holding a job interview | Source: Pexels

A man holding a job interview | Source: Pexels

I left the office and walked down the street, my head pounding. I needed to think, to come up with some sort of solution, anything that could save me. But all I could feel was the pressure. The weight of the clock ticking down on my shoulders. The fear of disappointing my father.

I found myself wandering into a small coffee shop. The place was warm, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. But even the comfort of the shop did nothing to calm the storm in my mind. I was out of ideas. I was out of time.

A small coffee shop | Source: Pexels

A small coffee shop | Source: Pexels

As I left the shop, I noticed a man sitting on the curb. He was bundled up in a ragged coat, his hair messy, his eyes dull. He was homeless, no doubt. He sat there, staring down at the sidewalk like it held all the answers to life’s biggest questions.

I don’t know why I stopped. Maybe it was the desperation. Maybe it was the sheer insanity of the situation. But I stood there, looking at this man, and a crazy thought popped into my head.

A homeless man | Source: Pexels

A homeless man | Source: Pexels

What if?

Without thinking, I walked over to him. “Hey,” I said.

He looked up, squinting at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “Yeah?”

“I know this sounds nuts, but…how’d you like a job? Just for a day.”

He blinked, his face expressionless. “What’s the catch?”

A cardboard sign | Source: Pexels

A cardboard sign | Source: Pexels

“No catch. I need someone to sit in on a meeting. Pretend you’re a consultant. I’ll pay you. No strings attached.”

For a long second, he just stared at me. Then, to my surprise, he smirked. “You serious?”

I nodded. “Completely.”

He scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. “And all I gotta do is sit in a meeting?”

A man looking away | Source: Pexels

A man looking away | Source: Pexels

“That’s it.”

He let out a short laugh. “Alright. What do I wear?”

The next morning, I walked into the office, expecting chaos. Maybe Michael wouldn’t show up. Maybe everything would fall apart. But as soon as I stepped inside, I froze.

A shocked young man | Source: Pexels

A shocked young man | Source: Pexels

The office wasn’t the same. Music played softly in the background, and there was a table full of coffee and pastries. People were laughing, talking, smiling—something I hadn’t seen in months. The tension that had hung over the team was gone, replaced by an almost celebratory atmosphere.

And there, right in the middle of it all, was Michael.

A confident middle-aged man | Source: Freepik

A confident middle-aged man | Source: Freepik

He was cleaned up—hair trimmed, face freshly shaved, wearing a sharp suit that I had no idea where he got. He was talking with some of my staff like he’d known them for years, leaning in, listening, making them laugh. For a second, I had to remind myself who he really was. Just yesterday, he had been sitting on a sidewalk, bundled in a ragged coat.

I felt a pit in my stomach. This was going to blow up in my face. My dad was going to walk in any minute, and he’d see right through the act. Then, I’d be out—no more chances.

A scared young man | Source: Pexels

A scared young man | Source: Pexels

The meeting started, and I sat down, ready to coast through the day. Michael was supposed to nod and smile, not say a word. That was the plan.

But as soon as we began discussing the contract, Michael stood up.

“Alright, folks, let’s get serious,” he said, walking over to the whiteboard. He picked up a marker and started sketching out diagrams, arrows, and workflow strategies faster than I could process.

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

A smiling man | Source: Freepik

At first, I thought he was bluffing, just drawing random nonsense. But then I looked closer. Everything he was putting out there was exactly what we’d been struggling with for months. He broke down the system, piece by piece, offering solutions that no one else had even thought of.

The room was dead silent. My father, who had joined the meeting without a word, crossed his arms and watched Michael closely. I braced myself, expecting the worst.

A man giving a presentation | Source: Pexels

A man giving a presentation | Source: Pexels

Michael finished, turning to the room with a grin. “Any questions?”

I glanced around. My team was wide-eyed. My father raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Finally, one of our top engineers spoke up.

“How did you… how did you figure that out? We’ve been stuck on that problem for weeks.”

A man talking during a meeting | Source: Pexels

A man talking during a meeting | Source: Pexels

Michael shrugged. “It’s just about looking at things differently. You’ve got good people, good systems. You just needed a little tweak.”

I sat there in stunned silence. How was this even possible? Who was this guy?

My father leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Michael. “Well, Jason,” he said, his voice calm. “It looks like you found your solution after all.”

A man in his office | Source: Pexels

A man in his office | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had spent months trying to fix this, and now a homeless man—someone I’d picked up off the street out of sheer desperation—had just solved everything in one morning.

After the meeting, I pulled Michael aside, away from the others. “Okay, who are you, really?” I asked, my voice low but firm. “You’re not just some random guy off the street.”

Two men talking | Source: Freepik

Two men talking | Source: Freepik

Michael looked at me, his eyes suddenly tired. “No, I’m not,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I used to run a business. A good one. But things went bad. My ex-wife… she set me up, destroyed my reputation, took everything. Once you’re labeled a failure, people don’t care to hear your side of the story. I lost the company. Lost everything.”

I stared at him, speechless. He continued, “It wasn’t long before I had nowhere to go. No one wanted to hire me, and the few people who might’ve helped were long gone. I ended up on the streets. Been there for a while now.”

A thoughtful man | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful man | Source: Pexels

My mind was racing. How could someone like him, with all this knowledge and experience, end up living like that?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.

He chuckled softly. “Would you have believed me?”

A chuckling man | Source: Pexels

A chuckling man | Source: Pexels

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt guilty for assuming the worst. But another part of me was in awe. This man, who had lost everything, was still brilliant. And in the end, he had saved me. Saved my job. Saved the company.

Just then, my father approached. He didn’t look angry, but there was something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. “Michael,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “how would you like a permanent position with us? You’ve clearly got the skills we need.”

A smiling middle-aged man with his arms crossed | Source: Freepik

A smiling middle-aged man with his arms crossed | Source: Freepik

Michael looked at me, then back at my dad. A small smile tugged at his lips. “I think I’d like that,” he said quietly.

I didn’t know how to feel. Relief? Gratefulness? A part of me was even a little jealous. Here was a man who had walked in out of nowhere, and within a day, he’d earned my father’s respect—the thing I had been fighting for my whole life.

Two people shaking hands | Source: Unsplash

Two people shaking hands | Source: Unsplash

But as I stood there, watching Michael and my father shake hands, I realized something. This wasn’t just about me. Michael deserved this chance, maybe more than anyone else.

He had been knocked down, but he hadn’t given up. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what real leadership was about.

A smiling young man | Source: Unsplash

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