Latest news with #emotionalExpression
CNN
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- CNN
Austin Brown, son of Rebbie Jackson, is deep in the family business of music
When Janet Jackson and Michael Jackson are your aunt and uncle – and your mom is Rebbie Jackson and your other uncles are the rest of the members of the Jackson 5 – getting into the music industry could feel like a double-edged sword. So why do it? 'I actually have asked myself that before, but it wasn't really because of (the) level of artists that I have had in my family. It was more so just, music is tough,' musician Austin Brown said in a recent conversation with CNN. 'It is just tough, tough, tough, tough. But for me, there wasn't any other way. It makes me feel good about expressing myself.' Brown is an independent artist who along with his band BLVK CVSTLE recently released 'The Festival' album. For years he has been leaning in to his art, which he said 'allows me to get my emotions out.' As a child he remembers being taken by hearing Stevie Wonder's classic 1985 hit 'Overjoyed,' which came out the year he was born. His mom's hit 'Centipede' was also a favorite, but more so he said he's learned from her example. 'My mom went through a lot in the music industry,' he said. 'She went through just a lot of things, mentally and spiritually, just how tough it could be,' Brown said. 'And my mom always kept a good, balanced head on her shoulders.' Witnessing his father Nathaniel Brown work hard as a business owner also had an effect, as his son said 'I saw that example every day.' 'You know, I didn't grow up the way people might've thought I did,' the younger Brown said, laughing. 'And so when they get around me and they're like 'Yo, you went through the same stuff I went through,' I'm like, 'It's no difference, bro.'' He's had to deal with all the challenges that any other up-and-coming artist has to face. It's been years of songwriting, gigging and getting his music out there. Brown recently headlined a residency at singer restaurant in Los Angeles and has been riding the wave of releasing new tunes and continuing to write new music. But ask him what brings him joy besides music, and he quickly answers that it's playing a board game with his 95-year-old grandmother, Katherine Jackson. 'I'm blessed that she's still here and I get to have those moments with her,' he said. 'Especially when it's me, her, and my mom playing. I cherish those moments big time.' Family is everything to him, and recently the world has been buzzing about a forthcoming Michael Jackson biopic in which Brown's cousin Jaafar Jackson is portraying their legendary King of Pop uncle. Brown had praise for the performance. 'I saw a screen testing of it and it was emotional how great he was,' he said. 'He's gonna blow people's minds.' 'The Festival' is currently available for streaming.
CNN
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- CNN
Austin Brown, son of Rebbie Jackson, is deep in the family business of music
When Janet Jackson and Michael Jackson are your aunt and uncle – and your mom is Rebbie Jackson and your other uncles are the rest of the members of the Jackson 5 – getting into the music industry could feel like a double-edged sword. So why do it? 'I actually have asked myself that before, but it wasn't really because of (the) level of artists that I have had in my family. It was more so just, music is tough,' musician Austin Brown said in a recent conversation with CNN. 'It is just tough, tough, tough, tough. But for me, there wasn't any other way. It makes me feel good about expressing myself.' Brown is an independent artist who along with his band BLVK CVSTLE recently released 'The Festival' album. For years he has been leaning in to his art, which he said 'allows me to get my emotions out.' As a child he remembers being taken by hearing Stevie Wonder's classic 1985 hit 'Overjoyed,' which came out the year he was born. His mom's hit 'Centipede' was also a favorite, but more so he said he's learned from her example. 'My mom went through a lot in the music industry,' he said. 'She went through just a lot of things, mentally and spiritually, just how tough it could be,' Brown said. 'And my mom always kept a good, balanced head on her shoulders.' Witnessing his father Nathaniel Brown work hard as a business owner also had an effect, as his son said 'I saw that example every day.' 'You know, I didn't grow up the way people might've thought I did,' the younger Brown said, laughing. 'And so when they get around me and they're like 'Yo, you went through the same stuff I went through,' I'm like, 'It's no difference, bro.'' He's had to deal with all the challenges that any other up-and-coming artist has to face. It's been years of songwriting, gigging and getting his music out there. Brown recently headlined a residency at singer restaurant in Los Angeles and has been riding the wave of releasing new tunes and continuing to write new music. But ask him what brings him joy besides music, and he quickly answers that it's playing a board game with his 95-year-old grandmother, Katherine Jackson. 'I'm blessed that she's still here and I get to have those moments with her,' he said. 'Especially when it's me, her, and my mom playing. I cherish those moments big time.' Family is everything to him, and recently the world has been buzzing about a forthcoming Michael Jackson biopic in which Brown's cousin Jaafar Jackson is portraying their legendary King of Pop uncle. Brown had praise for the performance. 'I saw a screen testing of it and it was emotional how great he was,' he said. 'He's gonna blow people's minds.' 'The Festival' is currently available for streaming.
Forbes
13-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Forbes
Study
In Japan, work doesn't end when the workday does. It ends around beer eight, when the salaryman finally says what he really thinks. Women are underrepresented in these after-hours rituals. Until then, the salaryman is polite, efficient and respectful, almost to a fault. He bows his head when spoken to, drinks when his boss expects him to and lives in a culture where emotional honesty, in everyone's interest, is delayed until the room is drunk enough to pretend it's safe. Although countries like Romania and Germany drink far more per capita, few work cultures have imbibed drinking quite like Japan's has. Interestingly, rebellion isn't the feeling salarymen are chasing, but belonging and release. In corporate Tokyo, drinking is part of the infrastructure. And somewhere between the sixth and the eighth beer, the mask slips — because the system requires it to slip. Office parties are infamous for awkward small talk and overdone cheer. But in Japan, nomikai, or after-hours drinking sessions with colleagues, often go further — becoming socially sanctioned spaces where otherwise reserved employees can temporarily abandon formality. There's even a word for this: bureikō, a state in which social hierarchies are relaxed and people are allowed to speak more freely. While bureikō may offer momentary relief, it also masks a deeper issue. When alcohol becomes the primary socially acceptable outlet for emotional expression, it risks pathologizing connection by reinforcing emotional repression rather than resolving it. Psychologically, it creates a cycle where authenticity is outsourced to intoxication, rather than integrated into daily life. Elsewhere, office parties might feel optional or even avoidable. However, many Japanese salarymen routinely show up not out of joy or desire to bond, but because saying no can feel like career sabotage. This dynamic ties into a deeper cultural code: tatemae — the face you show the world — versus honne — what you actually feel. In Japan, maintaining social harmony often means suppressing your true thoughts, especially around superiors. Emotional honesty becomes a kind of taboo. In the first season of James May: Our Man in…, which explores Japan, the British host chats with a group of salarymen about exactly this. One of them, a mergers and acquisitions employee at a large multinational company, explains: 'In Japan, you're not allowed to say what you think… you have to say a tatemae, which respects the other person, especially if they're older.' May asks, 'But what if you've had, say, eight Asahis?' The salaryman laughs: 'Eight Asahis? Oh, then that's a different question.' The joke lands because it's painfully true. In a culture built on restraint, alcohol does more than loosen lips — it subverts emotional expectations. For many, intoxication becomes the only socially acceptable way to access their honne, the private, honest self they keep hidden the rest of the time. In a country where work is considered sacred, the phenomenon of karōshi, or death by overwork, remains a pressing issue. In 2024, a white paper reported a 20% rise in the number of individuals recognized as suffering from work-related mental health disorders, marking the highest number on record to date. Notably, 79 of these cases involved suicides or attempted suicides. And these are just the cases we know about. This trend is beyond unsettling in a country where, as it is, population and birth rates have steadily been on a decline. The culture of nomikai can marginalize non-drinkers and perpetuate a cycle where alcohol becomes a tool for professional networking rather than personal enjoyment. Even in Western cultures like the U.S., choosing not to drink can sometimes raise more eyebrows than drinking itself. But in Japan, where emotional restraint is already culturally enforced, that pressure is amplified. Younger generations in Japan are increasingly questioning the traditional salaryman lifestyle. There is a growing movement towards achieving a better work-life balance, with some companies experimenting with four-day workweeks to address labor shortages and promote healthier working environments. But if honesty effervesces only after eight Asahis, the problem probably lies in the social role the salaryman is taught to fulfill in silence. A salaryman often doesn't feel psychologically safe at work. Take the Psychological Safety Scale to see if your workplace qualifies.
