The Emperor's New Clothes, Modern American Edition

Trigger warning: If you are a devout Catholic, you may not like this.

This is a slightly edited version of my public post to Facebook last year on July 27, 11:16 AM.

I found it while going through some files, and it reminded me of the International Women's Day posts I saw this past week. I did not think to post anything special for that day, but in retrospect, I think this fits the bill. She was a hero of my generation, and this was my public goodbye to her.

The Emperor's New Clothes, Modern American Edition

Sinéad O'Connor was a concrete dandelion.

Like a lovely yellow dandelion growing through a crack in the concrete, she fought to rise and was more beautiful for the effort. Then, she shaved her head to shed that beauty so the world would focus on her art and message. Her incredible voice led to early success, and her rendition of Prince's Nothing Compares 2 U touched the hearts of a generation. Then, in 1992, she appeared on Saturday Night Live. As a big fan of her music, I made a point to be at home so I could tune in to see her sing live. She was amazing. And, in her rebellious style, she ended the performance by calling out the Pope for paying no heed to the scores of child abuse accusations against Catholic priests. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do, and she was absolutely right. Shamefully, we all knew she was right, but the world hated her for it.

The gasp heard ‘round the world.

I was on “Team Sinéad” from day one, and it pained me to see the religious right crush her for laying bare the truths they would rather not face. This modernized version of The Emperor's New Clothes played out live on the newly founded 24-hour news stations. The righteous indignation at the nerve of this woman to call out the Pope for something he was actually guilty of was the story of the season. It was like a good old-fashioned stoning done via cable TV. Catholics were lining up to “toss stones” at the “witch” for “telling lies” about their beloved Pope. And, due to their overwhelming numbers and the strength found in identifying a common enemy, they crushed this audacious who dared speak the truth. It was the Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tale, played out American style, with a tragic ending.

Andersen's original story ends like this:

“But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” said a little child.

“Listen to the voice of innocence!” exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.

“But he has nothing at all on!” at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the procession must go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold.

Imagine, instead, if the crowd had decided to subject the child to a public stoning. In essence, that is what the world did when Sinéad stood up and declared the Pope culpable for the church's sins. I guess we don't all learn the lessons from Fairy Tales.

I will not cry for Sinéad, as while I love her music, it was her spirit which left the strongest impression on me. And like her music, her spirit remains. She stood up in front of the world and dared to say aloud what we all knew, and she was crucified for it. She was a hero, and we should mourn her as such. I hope those who were angry with Sinéad, rather than the Pope, after her historic appearance on Saturday Night Live, have repented for their judgement of her. Would they have stoned the “little child” who dared to say, “But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” or would they have opened their eyes to the truth he had told?

I hope one day someone makes a statue of the moment she tore the photo of the Pope, as it was the bravest thing ever done on live TV.

Rest in Rebellion, Sinéad.

As dandelions are wont to do, your seeds spread far and wide, and as such, you affected this world profoundly.

You made a difference; you paid the price.