The not so average Asian, Margaret Cho. Credited: UCLA Asia Institute

Funny as it is, Cho’s joke can easily refashioned for almost every ethnic community.Within many U.S. communities of color,  sexualities other than heterosexuality are still viewed largely external to the culture. Being queer is often assumed to be an uneasy by-product of American assimilation.

Growing up in my very diverse neighborhood, I was around many families of diverse backgrounds and I played with their kids when I went to school. I found comfort and escapism within my community of friends. When I grew into myself and began recognizing my attraction to guys, the comfort of being around my friends grew hostile and eventually dwindled.

Part of being a queer person of color is to also realize its complex interplay with being queer. Heterosexuality is expected within communities of color. Queer and homosexuality are pathologically erased from public conscious. Growing up as a recently arrived immigrant was hard enough, being queer was silenced or ridiculed. As a my friend Kevin profoundly said on a car ride once, ‘”You can be your race within your community and go home to your family and easily identify with  your family. But when your gay, you don’t come home to a family of gay people.” His disidentification from queer and race, in this case, strikes at family and community where sexual identity may be a stronger identity marker than being a racialized individual.

For me, I reflexively express my identity politics to people as queer, Asian, male. Queer comes first because it was the first identity I had to grapple with. That is not to say that it is the most important of my identity. For some, racial identity is more central. Environment affects so much how we come to value and understand these strains of our identities. Queer for me came at such an early age when my feelings were invalidated and admired with a sense of expiration by my family. As my feelings for the same sex grew stronger, I learned that my family was not very receptive to the idea.  they knew that if our community, our church, our extended family ever knew, it would be a source of shame and non redemption. But for me, growing up in my very diverse neighborhood and community, being Filipino was certainly central to my life experiences too but not comparable to the amount of fear and insecurity of being excommunicated by family and friends by sharing they were gay, lesbian queer or transgender.

Margaret Cho’s comments touch on how queer people of color discuss being queer and racialized. It’s everywhere, but in their own communities. Thankfully, this sentiment is changing nowadays with even more queer visibility not only on television and in movies, but also in news and legislation. That isn’t to say it goes down without a fight.

It remains important that we are everywhere now. Queer people of color occupy a very important role in queer struggle where they can bridge the understanding that sexual identity can also be a part of their racial identity and neither can they be kept secret or ignored. Gays are everywhere and they can be here.

Evelyn Thomas, also known as Corporal Evelyn Thomas, is an internationally known gay activist. She is a secondary educator with a Master of Arts in Education.

The following article is an excerpt from my book, “Does Butch Nappy Hair Offend You? One Teacher’s Struggle For Acceptance in the World of Education”. This excerpt examines intersectionality of race, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation

*****

Photo of author, Evelyn Thomas

“Many African-Americans believe success is obtaining the “American Dream”, earning the figurative pass into mainstream society, adapting to the values and economic standing of the white privileged classes (Hooks, 1994). With the enactment of the integration policy in 1954, many African-Americans parents of the time saw the chance for future generations of black children to achieve the dream, a possibility that was once closed to them. Additionally, with the chance of upward economic mobility came the responsibility of adapting the culture and practices of the dominate players in American society.  It was a system in which “individual black folks who were most like white folks in the way they looked, talked, and dressed would find it easier to be socially mobile” (Hooks, 1994, p. 176).

The double edge sword of assimilation had a negative effect on black educators and black students. With the Supreme Court decision, many of the black teachers were terminated from their position. [Prior to the Brown v. Board of Education decision, 96 percent of full-time faculty in black schools consisted of black women. The field of teaching has historically provided a significant means of upward mobility, particular for African-American women.] The new policy of an integrated form of education provided avenues for future economic success for black children it meant the decline in population of black educators. White teachers were entrusted with the assimilation process of the black student population.  Black children assimilated into this culture based on the normative practices of white aesthetics and Heteronormativity.

The integrated functions of oppression within the newly formed education system created a platform for black oppression and suppression of sexual identity. Black children had to forsake their ethnic pride (adopt the character of a white person) for any chance of social mobility. The Brown vs. the Board of Education streamlined assimilation of black children within the white culture, opened the narrow door of economic mobility, and provided a platform for white supremacy aesthetics in the hiring process of black teachers and the development of the young black mind. For a chance at economic upward mobility gay black teachers and students were forced to hide their true identity. What unfolds when these identities are elements of one person?

Kumashiro (2001) contends intersectionality “embracing the identity “queer” or “of color” is paradoxical. Sexual identity, sexual orientation, and sexual behavior are separate entities of the general motif of one person. Since every identity has meaning only because it is named against other identities, there can never be an identity that is all-inclusive”.  People depending on professional, social, or personal surroundings adapt identities based on the situation. ‘There is a connection between racism and heterosexism, and racial and sexual identities. In the efforts to challenge one form of oppression of which unintentionally contributes to other forms of oppression, and our efforts embrace one form of difference often exclude and silence others” (p. 6). In our society we must address all forms of oppression and not create a pendulum based the ideas of Heteronormativity practices of sexual identity, sexual behavior, and sexual orientation.

The internal conflict of adapting to the dominant white culture of America, maintaining my ethnicity as a person and educator, and hiding my sexual orientation creates challenges in the development of my pedagogy. It is a constant internal battle of the mind. To become an educator and accepted by my white colleague, I must stray away from everything that is identified as being apart of the black culture (natural hair style, body image, music, food, beliefs, religion, etc.) To become an educator and accepted by my colleagues, students, parents, and administrators, I must hide my sexual orientation of a gay woman for the fear of being terminated from my teaching position. Sometimes I adapt many characteristics and personalities to fit in the role of a black educator and again as a gay black educator, I become unaware of my true self at times. I am a product of the social experiment of integration and an assimilation form of education. This personal narrative will detail my struggle for acceptance in the education profession.”

This post was originally my reaction to Manila Luzon’s perpetuation of Asian (maybe American?) stereotypes. It was supposed to be a massive tirade about why her performance on RuPaul’s Drag Race was so controversial. Instead I’ll highlight how her performance was offensive.

Two weeks ago, the queens on the race were given the task to be news anchors and reporters while dressed in their professional drag attire. Manila Luzon, the roving reporter, was interviewing Kristin Cavelleri. From the moment she opened her mouth, I was offended. As the show continued, the discussion of Manila’s offensive satire aim to garner a good laugh and her subsequent win that week, left me with questions of my own:

Is it alright to make fun of race when a member of the same race takes a stab?

Is satire the same thing as racism?

Was her performance supposed to be funny? If it was supposed to be funny, could we just have called this performance “Oriental” rather than “Asian.”

Let’s contextualize Manila Luzon’s performance with an magazine spread from Detail Magazine in 2004 fantastically titled “Gay or Asian?” Take a look at the descriptions.

Gay or Asian? Definitely Offensive. Click on the image to enlarge the picture. Credited by xspy.com

“Dior Sunglasses: Subs a headband and amplifies inscrutable affect”

“Evisu Jeans: $400. A bonsai ass requires delicate tending”

“Dolce and Gabanna Suede Jacket: Keeps the last samurai warm and button tight on the battlefield”

“Lady Boy Fingers: Soft and long, perfect for waxing off and waxing on, plucking the koto and gripping the kendo stick”

So what can we get from Manila Luzon’s performance with this particular article? The Perpetual Foreigner Stereotype.

For Asian Americans – those who were born and raised in America or have spent a good portion of their life in America, such as myself – there is the stereotype that they MUST have been born somewhere else but NOT in America. Asian stereotypes – thick accented, fresh-off-the-boat, deeply traditional and un-assimilated – maintain the separation.

Manila Luzon was born and raised in the Midwest.  The Asian guy on the magazine could be Asian American. But how can you tell the difference? It’s hard. You can’t really. There is no physical demarcation to determine if this person is Korean, Chinese, Japanese. This is not to say all people of a certain race look the same, but can we really tell the difference between the the two? But the reflexive thinking, where could this person have been from, lends itself the fact that the stereotype of perpetual foreigner is hard to shake off.

And this is precisely why many Asian American, especially queer Asian Americans, took a massive disliking to Manila’s performance. For many the perpetual foreigner is a constant reality. It’s offensive because I can be American as apple pie, Miley Cyrus and country music. But I will always be asked: “Where am you from?”

At the end of RuPaul’s Drag Race, Manila Luzon won the challenge. Round of applause for Manila performance, your funny take on Asians reinforced negative stereotypes and dulled the fact that the people influencing the gay and straight community are ignorant racists. It may not have been your intention to do so Manila, as you said “I grew up in the Midwest… so I don’t know.” It’s not about your intention but rather that you had so much power to just simply be Manila Luzon, not a horrid stereotype.  You are incredibly resilient and so beautiful and from one Filipino to another, I was rooting for you. Many Asian American looked up to you. But what got over you?

Don’t let the finger pointing come back to us, saying that we misunderstood; that we are overreacting; that we don’t have a sense of humor.

Can someone explain to me the humor in it?

It was the orientation for my fellowship, a fellowship designed to give young progressives a chance to get a head start in their careers. It is different from most fellowship programs with the same goal because is it geared towards people of color and lgbtq youth. In the past when I have attended events geared towards the same groups of people, there is usually one token person of color and a couple of token lgbtq folks. This was not one of those cases.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, and possibly ever(?), I was the only white male-bodied person at the orientation the whole weekend. I mean everyone: from the folks in charge to the other fellows to the people they brought in to do the trainings, all were people of color. I was in gay anti-racist heaven. For once I was the token white kid!

As the weekend went on I kept thinking about its implications. Was I really the best white male who applied? Was my life story that different from most? I mean, I have/had more class privilege then you can shake a stick at in my life, but I was chosen for who I am now and surrounded by others who were chosen for the same reason.

Often those of us on the left, particularly self-described anarchist like myself, attempt and fail to bring in all types of people. It leads to tokenization, (cough* ANSWER Marches *cough) and not building of the real communities we need. This fellowship has done diversity successfully and powerfully, it was an honor to be there and to be working with others.

Over the course of the weekend, one of the other fellows asked me if I felt out of place, if I felt uncomfortable during the weekend, and if I felt the need to prove something. I was slightly taken back about the statement, but as we talked I understood (or at least I think I did) where they were coming from. People of color and queer people are often tokenized to be a part of the discussion, to give that alternative perspective that mainstream liberals often feel that they need. To make liberals feel better for being white, for having privilege, and to “prove” they are not racist or heterosexist. That weekend had reversed the dichotomy and I was the token white kid.

During the anti-oppression workshop, we talked about the ways that forms of oppression intersect, that all oppression is intertwined, and that you are not just defined by one aspect of who you inherently are. As queer people, some of us have the ability to easily shift between the violence of oppression and we can easily hide who we are to escape some of our oppression. We can be that straight person at the office, on the bus, or being questioned by the pigs. The point is, we shouldn’t have to, and we should stop.

The most prudent thing I learned this past weekend is that we need to reject this notion of who is oppressed more and whom the system is out to get the most. What we need to do is focus on building community and real ties with other oppressed people. We need to see that we all blend across the spectrum, and that we are all inherently different. We must see that our equality will create nothing more than our assimilation into heterosexual society. Our uniqueness will be lost and we will still be oppressed. Our liberation will come when we take a step back and truly look at ourselves for who we are: humans with dignity.

SEEKING SINGLE WHITE MALE (short film) from Vivek Shraya on Vimeo.

When do you have to give up a part of whom you are and where you come from just to be noticed? Vivek Shraya explores this notion in his short video titled Seeking Single White Male.

In the video, he talks about what came up in gay bars when he was younger and feeling like he had to assimilate to a more “white” culture to be seen. “After having conversations with other persons of color, I became aware that this experience is unfortunately pretty common,” Shraya told TNG.

Quotes are dispersed throughout the video, commenting on Shraya’s Indian heritage and its interaction with gay culture.

“The heart of this short is about showing the ways external racism is intrinsically connected to internalized racism,” he said.

You can view the video above. Vivek Shraya is no stranger to TNG and most recently released God Loves Hair, a collection of short stories. He is a singer songwriter currently living in Toronto.

There is the story of Brandon Lee. No, not the actor Brandon Lee who is also known as Bruce Lee’s son but the gay porn actor and exclusive top Brandon Lee. As the story goes, Brandon was discovered while making a Chinese food delivery run at Catalina studios where Chi Chi LaRue discovered her egg roll was “larger “than expected. After an impromptu tryout, him and his “egg roll”, the rest as you would say is history. Whether this story is true, I am not all too concerned about. But the story itself is very indicative of the power and pleasure of porn and its interaction with race and desirability which usually works to the disadvantage of gay Asian man. It is also pinpoints the image of the gay Asian man has been eroticized and subsequently objectified in the context of power relations with other men. More often than not, representations of the gay Asian man focus on his submission and pleasure of a white top and more recently other racialized tops. It almost a rarity to find an Asian top in mainstream gay porn and when we do, many find the astonishment of an admirable sized Asian and a top as almost weird and almost inappropriate.

Hence, I ask where my penis is as a thoughtful question rather than a vulgarity is because queer Asian pornography portrays the Asian male as predominantly the bottom. Rarely will you find him being the top using his penis to penetrate another male. Relegated to the role of the bottom to receive the ultimate member of manhood in queer pornography provides the message of a passive sexual agent. It reifies the dominant view of Asian men in gay porn as forever bottoms. Take a look at many of the mainstream gay Asian pornography such as Asian Knights, Asian Persuasian, and With Sex You Get Egg Roll. The intended audience for many of these films are primarily gay Anglo males. The content does not bother me too much because I have seen it replayed over and over again. It is rather the message of power that is the most glaring and consistently played narrative in gay Asian porn which bothers me; that a gay Asian male body exists for the pleasure of a white male and other racialized tops rather than other Asian males.

Where is my Penis?

Aside from the anally receptive member of a sexual engagement, there have been some instances where an Asian male has topped another male. Brandon Lee has made substantial commercial success as a  well endowed Asian top. Representations of these males, in my opinion, should be taken with a word of caution. Though it may seem that Asian tops are the answer to the bottom-hood of Asian males and a “positive image” of gay Asians in gay porn, they are seen with the lens of not quite measuring up to their white counterpart; painted with the picture of emulating a role rather than acting a role. Though the Asian penis has been found, there are only a few inches to go around, and the gay Asian male body is still the racialized-other unable to compete, unable to match up in size and position. Thus, within this paradigm of being the positional bottom and the not exactly perceived as a top, the gay Asian male body in mainstream gay porn, his body is marked with sexually passiveness, an almost state perpetual bottomhood.

Where is my Penis?

I end this piece with a fantasy of my own from my position as a gay Asian male, traditionally a top and sex positive. In this fantasy sequence, a reincarnation of Bruce Lee as a porn star creates a scene where he performs a solo jerk on screen in the middle of a forest. His hard, rippling body-armor skin is impregnable, strong and invincible. He is watched carefully and for quite some time from a distance by a tiger, the keeper of the forest and disapproves of his acts and attacks him seemingly unprovoked. A few grunts and shrieks during the wrestle leaves his naked torso is scratched on his ribcage and mildly bleeding. He stops his solitary moment of self gratification and he acknowledges his body is clawed, hurt and suffering- the hardness of his body is finally penetrated. He touches and licks his own blood powerfully recirculating the blood to enter his body and reinvigorates his own physical strength. He triumphs over his pain and remasculates himself, recognizes the aggression of the tiger and he has now tasted blood. His body triumphs over the violation, his own sexual gratification unmet. The possibility to create our own desires must be met on our own standards and provides a new liberating point where one does not simply walk into a role that is created for him without his regards but to refashion his own role and recreate the world around him as he imagines for himself.

In the words of Reggie Cabico, a slam poet, “ I am not a bowl of soy sauce for you to dip your meat in”.

It took a move to the south to become enlightened to the subtle racist programming of my northern upbringing. My family taught me the “n” word was bad while locking the car door as we sped through the “bad parts of town.” To this day I am not aware of any horrible crimes taking place on Second Street in Dunkirk, New York. Thinking back on my youth I do remember that the people standing on the street corners had darker skin than mine.

When I was thirteen it had to be explained to me there was a difference between “blacks” and “Puerto Ricans.” At that young age I knew the world only as “white” and everything else was “not white”. I embarrassingly asked one of my classmates to explain the difference. I knew my grandma hated those “fucking Puerto Ricans for taking all the jobs” and that my uncle called Prince the “n-word” when one of his videos was on MTV. I cringed when my family used the “n-word”673w so essentially I felt quite sure I was not racist.

I moved to Tampa, Florida in 1998. Monday nights were especially fun. My roommate Jenny and I would dance to old wave 80s at The Castle. We tuned into “Love Line” driving to the club. We bought turkey subs and deep fried mushrooms on the way home. I was quite unaware of another weekly tradition until Jenny brought it to my attention. Every time I saw someone with darker skin than mine I would lock the car door.

“Jeremy, what are you doing?” asked Jenny.
“Locking the car door, this area is scary” I replied.

Repeatedly Jenny called me out on this until one week she became so irritated she stopped her car in the middle of an intersection. Jenny unlocked the car doors. She then preceded to roll down the windows.  At the top of her lungs Jenny yelled “Hey look at this car!! The windows are down and the doors are unlocked. Look at us!!” I was cowering on the car floor riddled with anxiety. Jenny shook her head and told me I was being racist. I didn’t realize it at the time but she was absolutely correct.

I have known many northerners who write the south off as a bumbling wasteland of uneducated bigots. To the contrary it was not until I moved to the south that I was able to witness cultures co-existing somewhat harmoniously. Make fun of Tampa all you want but in this city there are no boxes separating different ethnicities. There are no politically-correct white scenesters touting their “openmindedness” while exclusively befriending only other whites. The melting pot in Tampa is real and its alive. The last ten years have been an eye-opening pleasure.

Earlier this year I once again pondered the effects my upbringing.  After writing a piece detailing racism on gay dating sites many commenters came forward stating that they didn‘t find “black” men attractive and that “we just can’t help who we are attracted to”. Perhaps it is true that we can’t help who we are attracted to. But what if one digs a bit under the surface to examine the root of their attractions? How much did the messages we received at five determine who we want to sleep with when we are thirty five? When grandma locked her door every time she saw a black person how much of a role did that play when my body compass began to form?

I have friends of many cultures and ethnicities. I find every one of these friends to be valuable, gorgeous, intelligent, and beautiful. Yet no matter how non judgmental my friendships and words may be until I am able to feel the physical beauty of a soul encased in dark skin my so-called liberation is a failure.  My heart knows with certainty that everyone is sexy in their own way. My penis is far less enlightened.

I envy cats. In their universe they could give two fucks about the shade of their fur.  We have a lot to learn from them.

I like my family. My family did the best job they knew how to do. My parents rose my older brother and I on visits to KFC and McDonalds and called them family restaurants. Back then, love was when we sat down with the Sunday morning paper and clipped out coupons while watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the background. And I remember I was a bad ass kid. I was chased by my mom with a hot wheel tracks firmly in her hand or a pair of slippers and beat the hell out of me when I acted out. So I learned to act right. I acted right for my mom because she beamed of happiness when I received Student of the Month in my elementary school. I loved the smile on my dad face when I made honor roll every year in middle school. I never had aunts or uncles growing up so all we had was ourselves. Just the four of us. When I grew older, I continued to act right. Then shortly after middle school, I fell for my first crush , I couldn’t act right any longer.

Being queer to me has been much of an identifier and central in my life as Asian. When I describe myself, I identify as queer and then Filipino. But the Filipino doesn’t fall too far behind. While I understand what male sexuality is because of my seat as a queer male, I am privy to understanding male sexuality better than women because, hell, I am a man who sleeps with other men. Who better to discuss male sexuality than queer men. But being queer AND Asian, I am at an intersection which yields two ENTIRELY different and separate experiences that signal discrimination on two fronts.

In instances where I can hide my sexuality in order to avoid being discriminated against my love for men, I can’t hide my Asian-ness. In moments when I am in my culture, I am branded as something incomplete because I haven’t shared my life with a woman. Combine the two, I have to combat the docile bottom Asian boy who searches to be with a white male. There aren’t too many social media sites that cater to this particular demographic that isin’t a porn site or a dating service. Neither are there healthy and positive images of queer Asian individuals that can debunk  servile Asian boy stereotype and model minority myth.

Over the past few weeks of soul searching whether or not I should write this piece, the need to discuss these issues grew more important with time. The result of it all is on your screen. I have made the decision to dedicate the next few postings on TNG to exploring the experience of queer and Asian. What better of place to explore it?

Being queer and Asian affects more than just fucking guys. It affects entire life experiences. It illuminates what it means to be racialized and subsequently marginalized not only within society but doubly within queer society. Steering away from over glossed and simplified narratives of being Asian, I make the effort to write about this identity not to make it “the model”, “unique” or “exceptional”. Rather, it is a way for everyone to feel empowered in dialogue and shared experiences. “DisOrienting Encounters” is not just about being queer and Asian but the disorienting experiences of realizing one’s difference and uniqueness within society. It is a way to feel empowered through sharing stories when stories are so rarely heard these days.

from Inmigración, Desilusión y Otros Relatos: Al Mejor Estilo Americano

Recently, our governor Jan Brewer signed the nation’s toughest bill on illegal immigration into law. Its aim is to identify, prosecute and deport illegal immigrants. Though President Barack Obama has called for a federal overhaul of immigration laws, having decided this move threatened “to undermine basic notions of fairness that we cherish as Americans, as well as the trust between police and our communities that is so crucial to keeping us safe,” there will still be plenty of time to catch those immigrants before he is able to do anything about it.

So, my fellow Arizonans, if the aim of this new law is to identify, prosecute and deport, the only hiccup is with the first action: identification. Isn’t it impossible to detect an illegal immigrant based on their appearance? Well, not anymore!

I have invented a device to determine a person’s immigration status just by scanning the palm of their hand, which will expedite the process to rid our state of immigrants. I call it The Deportanator. It was created using the most cutting edge Taiwanese technology, made up of the same material found in your iPod, from the zinc and lithium mines in The Democratic Republic of Congo—and manufactured right here in the U.S.A. There’s one job they can’t take away from us!

But don’t just take my word for it. The Deportanator is guaranteed to work, based on my own trial, conducted since it was patented last Tuesday. I took my new invention to a local Mexican eatery here in Phoenix, notorious for a mostly Hispanic workforce. Did I mention it’s small enough to carry around in your pocket? You never know when you will need it, after all. Once I had finished eating my huevos rancheros, I grabbed hold of the busboy clearing my plates.

“Habla ingles?” I asked him. It’s hard not to know a little Spanish around here.

“Yes, I do,” he told me, blinking repeatedly.

Needless to say, I didn’t need to ask for his papers. I just asked to see his hand, and using The Deportanator, took an infrared scan until I heard it beep. Suffice to say, the young busboy is now back with his family in Ciudad Juarez, eating tacos and running from drug cartels, where he belongs.

On my way back to the lab, I noticed my taxi driver was wearing some sort of turban. Needless to say, I had to check his license photo on the back of the seat. I could not even try to pronounce the name I saw. I also noticed a photo mounted on his dashboard. It was a woman. She was, of course, covered by some sort of veil.

“Hey, what’s the point of having that picture if you can’t even see her face?” I asked. Am I right?

With one quick scan, I was able to determine that my driver was, in fact, not a legal citizen. And before the day was through, he was on a plane back to Afghanistan or Iraq. I’m not actually sure where he was even from. I just hope the plane made it!

So what’s the secret to my invention? The Deportanator actually detects levels of melanin in the subject’s skin, and goes off upon the presence of certain pigments (those of illegal immigrants). As if there was any other way!

“Racism is dead.  We have a black president,” were words spoken out of ignorance by someone I know.   I was just at a lost for words to how to reply.  They haven’t seen the black ghettos on the outskirts of Manhattan.  They haven’t been to a queer gathering and heard the accusations that any white woman who voted for Hilary was racist against Obama.  They’ve never been turn down for a date due to the color of their skin.  I’m responding to their comment by giving them a copy of Speaking Treason Fluently: Anti-Racist Reflections From An Angry White Man by Tim Wise.

Color divides the queer scene.  Whites go to one party, blacks to another, Latinas to another, and Asians to another.  For the most part, I don’t know where people of color go to party.  Or if I manage to find a party where they are – they don’t want me there because I am white.  I am against all forms of oppression but when my allies don’t even want me to associate with them because of my skin, it upsets me.  Skin shouldn’t be the deciding factor in what parties someone goes to – but it is.

I’ve also noticed online dating is insanely racist and people seem okay with that.  People of color not wanting to date someone white.  Someone white not wanting to date a person of color. It’s ridiculous.  That’s stuff that shouldn’t matter.  It should matter if you are kind, compassionate, and loving.  Not what your meatsuit happens to be.

Newsflash: We’re all oppressed in the capitalistic system.  Everyone.  Some have more privileges than others but we’re all prisoners.  Instead of fighting among ourselves for scraps and dealing with the branches of the problem, we should go for the root.  As long as we’re living in a system that thrives on oppression, division, and “us” against “them” – we’re not going to get anywhere.  We need to stop fighting over silly things and agree to disagree to tolerate and respect each other.

Separatism isn’t real world conditions. By separatism, I mean dividing ourselves based on sex or race.  Men can be just as proactive in the battle against sexism as women.  Whites can be just as effective in combating racism as persons of color.  But to simply devalue someone based on something beyond their control is ridiculous.  I get really upset when I see individuals show special interest in wanting a social group composed of a certain sex or race.  It shouldn’t matter.  Their attempt at being politically correct is making them an anti-racist racist.

I would like to see a queer scene where everyone – all races and sexes – come to the parties together.  I was really disappointed by the New York City queer scene and the division.  I am disappointed by people who claim to be anti-racist but then won’t date me because I’m white.  If the cycle won’t end with you, who do you expect it to end with?

Two days ago I posted a list of 8 Guys You’ll Meet at The Gay Gym. In that list, I mentioned that I appreciate  the non-alcoholic, non-late-night social opportunities that my gym provides. Despite the fact that their music selection is like a Dick Clark top 40 countdown on poppers, it is still overall a dignified, productive space to meet interesting men.

A gay gym’s locker room, however, is not. It is a quotidian horror show of the oddest, most egregious, and downright bizarre behavior you will see in a gay man outside of pride weekend. Locker rooms are all about blurring the public and the private – nudity and decorum, the ability to be dirty while getting clean – and some guys boundaries of normal behavior falter when faced with such a dichotomy. Below is a list of 9 guys you might meet in your locker room. And as usual, this is meant to be a joke. If you’re going to call me an asshole or a homophobe or a crumb-bum it’ll fall on deaf ears.

1. The “Oompa Loompa” Guy

If you wear your sunglasses at night its probably because you are hanging out with this guy. He only goes to the gym to take advantage of its tanning facilities, and as a result he maintains a nice orange hue twelve months a year. If you spend enough time in his proximity there is a good chance that you will get tan too.

2.  The “Foreigner Who Thinks It’s a Bathhouse” Guy

He might come from Europe, where that kind of establishment is less underground. Or Arlington, where the “gay gym” is a misunderstood urban legend. Wherever he’s from, this guy doesn’t quite get that some towels and a sauna do not a sex club make. Whether his solicitation is subtle — oops, my boner fell out of my towel and now its pointing at you!— or overt — running his hand down your thigh— a firm “this is not that kind of establishment!” should be enough to get your out of harms way.

3. The “Make Yourself At Home Guy.”

While a locker room does have many of the amenities of your home bathroom, it is not actually your home bathroom. This fact is lost on the “Make Yourself At Home Guy.” Either his own plumbing is being fixed or he has an odd sense of public behavior, because he wears pungent conditioner in the sauna, shaves in the sink, pees in the shower and then spends forty minutes making mirror faces and fixing his hair as if the whole free world can’t see him. This is most likely the same guy that carries reading material into the gym bathroom, shame-free.

4. The “Take a Picture, It’ll Last Longer” Guy

In terms of locker room manners, you could ask for nothing better than this guy. He won’t make any inappropriate comments, he won’t stand too close to you at your locker, he won’t even let his hands linger anywhere untoward as he soaps up. The only thing stopping him from being a perfect gentleman is the fact that he stares at you as if the secret to life itself is buried in your ass. Like being in an old episode of Scooby Doo, where you feel creeped out because one of the painting’s eyes are following you around the room, you are always pretty sure that this guy is out there somewhere looking at you. It could be from behind a towel, it could be from six mirrors away. You just know he’s there.

5. The “Horrifying Underwear” Guy

So how do you treat your penis? Do you wrap it up in simple white cotton, letting its majestic twists and turns provide the visual flair? Perhaps you’re a sensible man who wears trunks, or a swinger in loose-fitting boxers. Or do you take a piece of Lycra, bluer than a May sky at noon, with the buttocks removed, and put it on to tell the world “My crotch is neon! My crotch is a tropical bird! My crotch is electric, boogie woogie woogie woogie?”  If you answered yes to the third question, you are probably “Horrifying Underwear” guy. Kudos, though, for the fact that you often blend seamlessly into the rest of society. Most people won’t realize your true nature until long after you’ve won their trust.

6. The “Prune” Guy

To you, a gym is a complicated network of aerobic machines, free weights and medicine balls. To this guy, though, a gym is two simple locales: A shower and a Sauna. Nothing more, nothing less. If this guy is not in the sauna he is in the shower. If he is not in the shower he is in the sauna. If only all humans were so uncomplicated in their motivations! Since this guy never seems to actually work out you can be relatively assured of finding him engaged in one of those two aquatic pasttimes. However, I caution you not to get too attached to him. The strain that so much steam puts on his heart means that you will spend the afternoon scouring emergency rooms and obituary columns if you don’t see him around.

7. The “Never-Nude” Guy

This seems to have been trained at Quantico in the arts of undetectability, because he can change from his street clothes to his workout clothes to a towel and back without you seeing so much as one glimpse of his naked body. No matter how cute or confident he is, he will slink around two towels, a bathrobe or even a burqa to avoid showing one glimpse of bare skin. For this reason, he tends to be very frustrating to the “Take a picture, it’ll last longer” guy.

8. The “Always-Nude” Guy

Polar opposite of the previous entry, this guy is so enamored with the beauty of the male form that its a miracle he even gets dressed to take the metro back home. He’s naked in the shower, in the sauna, at his locker, bending over to grab some water, hugging you hello, doing his pre-workout stretches and, in some terrible cases, engaging you in an extended conversation about politics or world hunger.

9. The “Priapism” Guy

It is a miracle this guy has not passed out in public, because the amount of blood used to sustain his massive, never-ending erection virtually guarantees that his brain has been left high and dry. While you may first find his eternally tumescent member to be shocking or exciting when you see it in the shower, it quickly loses its lustre when you realize that it is as much a part of his character as having brown hair. It’s there in the shower, yes, but its also there in the sauna, at his locker, in his kickboxing class and in the bus on the way home. Some people have Jiminy Cricket to accompany them through life, and some have their boners.

Plus, beginning at 5:00 p.m., there will be a live musical introduction from the Cornel West theory. The Cornel West theory is a Washington, D.C. based hip-hop band who, with the blessing of Dr. West, takes its name from his prolific writings and philosophies that have shaped contemporary thought throughout the world.

Details:

Thursday, October 15
Busboys and Poets
2021 14th Street, NW
6:00 p.m.
Free and Open to the Public

About Black Pearl Sings!

Susannah, a song collector for the Library of Congress, travels the country seeking little-known melodies. When she encounters Pearl in a Texas prison, she discovers dozens of musical treasures rooted in the African tradition. Pearl must decide whether to give away her ancestors’ songs for a chance at her own freedom. Music unites strangers in a powerful story that illuminates America’s racial divisions and the attempts of two women to bridge them.

Join them for a very special A.C.T.O.R. discussion. Several free tickets to the production will be available.

Details:

Sunday, October 4
Busboys and Poets
2021 14th St
4:00 p.m.
This event is free and open to the public.

Photo by Blue Centerlight

This post was submitted by frequent contributor, J. Clarence Flanders.

Sexual preference in human beings is a tricky thing to understand, because unlike the rest of our genetic kin throughout the animal kingdom, we live in cultures and societies that compound nature’s already complicated process of sexual selection with cultural norms and mores that influence our decision-making processes. While much of what we each determine to be sexually attractive is decided not consciously, but by mechanisms we are only now beginning to understand, cultural forces have also played a large part in that process – whether consciously or unconsciously.

Nowhere is this more obvious than when it comes to racism and xenophobia and their combined impact on sexual selection throughout human history. In the United States, anti-miscegenation laws stretch as far back as the seventeenth century and were only unequivocally struck down as unconstitutional in 1967 after the Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court case. Throughout anti-miscegenation’s tenure and thereafter, our communities preached an ideology that favored “sticking with one’s kind” and not “mixing the genetic gene pool.” An ideology was reinforced in the early 19th century by Social Darwinism, religious ideology and Puritanism that sought to put people into different castes, determining who was acceptable and who was not.

Scientifically, there is some evidence to indicate that a person’s genetic geographic ancestry, i.e. “race,” will have some impact on the sexual selection process. After early humans had traveled out of Africa and began to settle and populate in new parts of the world, genetic variations occurred that would eventually develop into the diverse range of physical characteristics that make up the human family – some for survival reasons and others solely for the purpose of sex. Whatever the case, these variables were archived in the human brain and would continue to play out as these communities grew.

With the biological mechanisms at work in the background, we may have decided to choose someone with a particular feature that we would ideally like to see transfer to our offspring, because it could translate into a better chance of survival and the opportunity to pass on our genetic history to the next generation. Or maybe we chose to form a bond with that person because it better ensured our own survival. These features might have been beneficial to some people but a hindrance to others. Skin color in particular is one that stands out, because in climates closer to the equator, a darker skin tone gave better protection from solar radiation, whereas in places like Northern Europe, lighter skin was better suited.

Nevertheless, one thing remains clear: while skin color and other features associated with a particular ethnicity were likely factors that contributed to who we chose to mate with, skin color alone was not the be all and end all of the sexual selection process. Our species continued to intermingle with various communities, resulting in what would be more metaphorically accurate to describe as intertwined vines rather than loosely associated branches – mixing the gene pool for thousands of years.

What does any of that have to do with the gay community? Surprisingly more than I would have initially thought.

The topic of sexual preference and race is a heated one within the gay community. “I only date X” or “I’m only looking to hook up with Y” are phrases used so frequently by whites, blacks, Latinos, Asians and other communities that one might surmise that there could be some science behind it. However, it is thrown about so effortlessly that it seems more akin to a racial cop-out than it does a result of millions of years of evolutionary hard-wiring of the human brain.

I’ve wondered for some time exactly what anyone might actually mean when they say not only that they do not date X,Y, or Z, and only date or hook up W. Such a position comes across as highly illogical, simply because it seems be based not on an individual assessment, but rather an amalgamation of generalizations and stereotypes that could in no way account for the sheer diversity of the physical features that we see in each ethnic group.

It seems almost too cliché to point out that not all Xs or Ys look or act the same, and yet it seems that this fact is not often acknowledged. Instead, many of us hide behind this notion that it is always simply a matter of sexual preference to conceal what is likely a much deeper, inherent form of social indoctrination that has constructed a preconceived notion of what every white, black, Latino, Asian, etc. man or woman must be like – in bed or in casual conservation.

To be clear, there is nothing racist, morally reprehensible or biologically foolish about not being sexually attracted to certain physical features. That is a natural by-product of our evolution, and, in the long run, likely beneficial to the survival of your genetic lineage. However, it does seem highly questionable to declare your aversion to a certain ethnicity or multiple ones – in many cases your own – from square one.

When I have been able to ask someone why they might be opposed to dating someone who is not part of their ideal ethnicity, the answer most of the time can be boiled down to no clear reason at all. And it seems strange that such a significant position could not have some clear argument, illogical or otherwise. It implies, to me, that the forces at play are not sexual ones at all, but cultural connotations of what it means to be an X, Y, or W in the United States – presumably elsewhere shaped by their own cultural history of race relations.

Race is a convoluted and yet powerful term in our lexicon; it is not a scientific term (anymore) and is purely a cultural means of distinguishing groups of people, primarily based on skin color. There is no other word that could correctly encapsulate all that we mean when we use the word “race,” and that’s probably a good thing. One thing we do know is that race in America was, and arguably still is, an indicator of social status, power and influence. We judge people not across the board equally, but rather through the selected prism of their racial identity. We define our leaders through this prism: President Barack Obama and Professor Henry Louis Gates are exceptional, not solely based on their achievements – which by any measure would be outstanding – but also because they are culturally implied to be exceptions to their racial identity.

These cultural forces would obviously have an impact on whatever happened underneath the sheets (if people even have sex under sheets any more), because these are the forces at work that inform and affect our subjective view of the world. We commonly hear, for example, phrases like, “You are really attractive for a X,Y, or Z guy” or, “I don’t usually go out with X,Y, or Z, but I’ll make an exception for you,” all the time in clubs, bars and on the Internet. These are indications that the person in question is not being assessed on an individual basis, but rather in comparison to their racial identity and how well they stand out from that. Conversely, we rarely hear phrases like, “You look good for a white guy”, because white privilege renders whiteness either neutral, invisible or good.

If we culturally associate whiteness with things that are good, and being of color with things that are bad – or to steal an Orwellian term, “lessgood” – it should come as no surprise that we would be culturally more open to whiteness, because it is the most appealing of the choices out there. Of course, there are exceptions scattered throughout the gay community. There are gay men of color that choose not to date gay white men, for example. Those situations are no different from those of white gay men that choose not to date or have sex with a gay person of color.

The racial cop-out is not a one-race device. It is used by many to justify the perpetuation of inherent discrimination based on cultural connotations by insinuating that it is all a matter of natural sexual preference, rather than addressing the long-standing, inaccurate perceptions about each other that we have allowed to fester.

To move beyond this, we must challenge the very notion at the foundation of the racial cop-out, which is the assumption that we can group an entire ethnicity into a few narrow characteristics, and face the fact that not all white people have blond hair and blue eyes, nor do all black men have bee-stung lips and skin that is black as pitch.

Photo courtesy of Bogotron

Recently, actor and activist Doug Spearman, most famously known for his role as Chance on Patrick Ian-Polk’s Noah’s Arc, wrote a piece for the Human Rights Campaign, where he articulates what he sees as a prevalent racism within the gay community.

The fallout from Spearman’s piece, which was copied and pasted and cropped across the web, is indicative of how contentious this issue is within the gay community. Like many other essays dealing on the subject, it sparked a heated debate from both sides. This debate is not without merit, as it has become increasingly clear that if the gay community does want to move forward, this discussion must happen, and frankly it’s long overdue.

So exactly what is on the table? This is what Spearman said in his piece that really frazzled many readers, and likely sparked much of the anger:

People tend to believe that racism, on all sides of the color lines, is something that stops at the gates of the LGBT community. As though at the entrance to the various Boys Towns around the country you were required to check your ideas about Blacks, Asians, Jews, Arabs, etc… The way cowboys were required to turn over their guns when they walked into a saloon in the Old West. It just doesn’t happen that way. In fact, I think it’s worse now than it was when I came out in l980. Back then the bars felt a lot more friendly, prejudice was a dirty word, and the kids of the 1960’s and early 70’s – those that had created the gay movement – were still on the dance floors of America elbow to elbow with the people who’d marched in Vietnam protests and Black Power parades, and had been active participants in the original Civil Rights Movement. Those were the grownups who were standing at the bar when I got there. They welcomed me. But they’re gone. That spirit seems to have evaporated. Not everywhere and not for everyone, but enough so that if you’re over the age of thirty-five you would notice.

Spearman’s recollection of the past is to a certain point more idealistic than it actually was. Interracial relations on the platonic level in the gay community have always been a touchy subject. For example, in his memoir, Mississippi Sissy, Kevin Sessums, contributing editor to Allure magazine, discusses how the gay bars he used to visit when he was in college were heavily segregated. Whites stayed on one side, and Blacks on the other, and rarely did the two ever meet. (Until Sessums had sex with one of the star Black football players, that is.) Despite being marginalized by the mainstream society, the racist and privileged ideology of the time slithered into the gay community like it did everywhere else.

However, it is also true that the gay community was much more egalitarian than mainstream heterosexual society, especially as a political/activist community began to take form in the late 70′s and 80′s. The Gay Rights Movement brought people together who shared a common cause; there was something to fight — besides each other. Regardless of ethnicity, gays were all grouped together by the mainstream heterosexual culture. It was a great “a-ha” moment, but clearly one that was rather short lived.

During those decades of civil unrest there was a visible Black presence in mainstream queer culture, something we have not seen a lot of recently. In the groundbreaking film, Boys in the Band, there was an African-American main character. This was indicative of the many diverse family-like relationships gay men had to form, because they were outcast everywhere else. Sylvester was a artist known around the country. Audre Lorde was banging on the door of established feminism. And the Village People were, well, the Village People.

It was an era of activism, where no matter who you were you felt the sense to get up and say something, and felt free to express yourself the way you wanted.

However, when the party died that feeling of freedom died with it.

The AIDS epidemic in the 80′s brought the community together, because no one else was going to help us besides ourselves. However, it also took many lives and changed its face. That, coupled with the the socio-economic rift we see take place in the ’80s under President Reagan, caused the unraveling of much of the cohesiveness of decades prior. Whites largely moved up the economic ladder. Conversely, Blacks either stayed in place or fell down. We started living different lives; the shared experience of being homosexual was not enough to hold us together. Towards the end of the 80′s, we see a completely different image of interracial relations in the gay community. For example, in Jennie Levington’s documentary, Paris Is Burning, we see how external variables like class, wealth and income, education, and race shaped this new gay community.

Today, we know that there is a huge disparity between how the gay community is depicted in magazines, television shows, movies, pornography, etc., and of whom it’s actually composed.

Many of Spearman’s critics have said that the Black gay community has itself to blame for the less than outstanding presence of Black gay characters in gay media, for example, by not challenging the stereotypes enough within the heterosexual Black community — in particular the stereotypes and ideology of the Black Church. The argument, apparently, is that if Black gay organizations and activists like Spearman did more and got more men that are on “down low” to come out of the closet and be open about their sexuality, gay media would instinctively become more diverse and representative.

However, there is already an established Black gay community: Black Gay Pride celebrations take place all over the country; there are family outings, beach parties, Balls, sporting events, and much more. Despite all of this, the gay media has not been as reflective as we would be led to believe.

There is undoubtedly a “gay problem” within the Black community, but as we all know, there is also a “gay problem” within the White community. Anti-gay organizations like the Family Research Council, Americans for Truth, Church of Latter-Day Saints, Westboro Baptist Church and more are led by White Americans and campaign against gay rights across the country, regardless of the color of anyone’s skin, and have at their disposal far more resources than your average Southern Baptist Black minister. However, to combat this, gay media and gay advocacy groups have done a fantastic job over the years presenting positive images of gay people to counter the negative imagery and stereotypes, to the point that they have shifted the perception of what it means to be gay in the mainstream. Gay and White, that is.

Some have argued that it is Black gay people who have chosen to remove themselves from the equation by not going the extra mile and reaching out. Such a position comes across as highly narcissistic, and one that fails to take into consideration the variables on the ground. Many do in fact reach out, and for many who do the response is unwelcoming, whether on the micro level (two individuals at a bar), or on the macro level (the gay community as a whole).

We have to realize that if the gay community, and organizations such as HRC, come across as unwelcoming to everyone who does not fit the mold, that will turn people off. And right now that’s what’s happening. The attitude that we should leave the “Black problem” to the Black gays is, well, to put it nicely not very constructive, if the stated goal is to further gay rights and not just White gay rights. As we learned from Prop 8, when we do not work together to combat the rhetoric and ideology from the various demographics we all suffer the consequences.

The sad truth is doing the right thing in this instance is relatively easy, and has been for some time. By seriously committing to highlighting the diversity that exists within our community, and has always been a part of it, we can change the mentality out there that says that the mainstream gay community is only welcoming to a certain demographic. And by inviting queer people of various backgrounds and subcultures to the table, we can finally start to put this issue behind us.

Same Same But Different: The Value of Shared Experience

Details:

Saturday, August 15
Busboys and Poets in Shirlington Village
4251 S. Campbell Ave
Arlington, VA 22206
4:00 p.m.

This post was submitted by TNG reader, CuffShark.

This recent Gates vs. Cambridge controversy really started to irk me — until today. Pepin Tuma was recently arrested on U Street for voicing a pretty common sentiment: “I hate the cops.”  Not toward a cop… but near one, by chance.

Why am I writing about this, and what special insight do I have that might add to the debate?  Well, last year about this time, I was brutally attacked, thrown down a flight of stairs and beaten into a bloody mess by a drunken long-term boyfriend as I came home from work. This all lasted about 20 minutes, give or take an eternity or so.  I went to the police, and asked them for help to at least retrieve some clothing so I could go to a hotel and figure out what to do with my life now.  They escorted me down the road to the apartment we shared at the time, interviewed my (MUCH more muscular) boyfriend who had not received even a scratch.  After speaking with him, they returned to me and arrested me (sans Miranda, might I add) on the spot. Why? In the officer’s words, “In domestic dispute cases in DC, one of you has to go to jail.”  I later found that out to be wrong.

As a result, I’ve spent the last year in intense physical and emotional therapy, and am only now beginning to socialize normally with friends.

So what went wrong?  Was it my race?  Doubtful. Was it because I was gay?  I tend not to ascribe to the victim mentality, so I’ll go for a ”no” on that one, too.  If I had to guess… and I was there after all… I would have to say that these police officers had no ability to discern what the actual nature of the situation was.  Basically, I’d asked the goon squad for help, and ended up in jail — now with an arrest for domestic battery.  Charming, no?

I think it’s time we step outside the box being offered up to us by the chattering nitwits on TV, and really think about what’s going on here.  Why are we paying our officers so little that we can barely recruit high school graduates?  Why are these officers so quick to overreact to a situation?  Are police officers given too much power and not enough training?

I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I know that injustice is not constrained to african americans or our glbt family.  What do you think?

Photo By Blue Centerlight

One of the criticisms often levied against the queer community today is that it has failed to represent all people that compose it, particularly on the national level. Instead, it has perpetuated a very narrow classification of what it means to be queer. The people that fall outside of this classification include ethnic minorities, women, the uneducated, people from the lower end of the socio-economic spectrum, and others. These people and their backgrounds largely have been absent from the cultural dialog we have had over the years about what it means to be queer in America.

As a result, our collective perception of what it means to be queer today is very different from reality. Social-conservatives often exploit this quagmire to depict queer people as privileged elitists, rather than everyday people who, unfortunately, still live as second-class citizens in our democracy.

This fact most poignantly came home to roost last year during the Proposition 8 campaign. In a frantic search to explain why the proposition passed, we looked at early exit poll data that appeared to show an overwhelming majority, some seventy percent, of California’s black voters supported the measure. Several prominent voices in the queer community were in an uproar, such as Dan Savage of Slate Magazine, who accused the black community as being unequivocally homophobic.  (He has since walked back on that statement, sort of.)

In the immediate weeks after Proposition 8 passed, tensions were high on both sides. Many in the queer community, who were understandably frustrated and upset, focused their frustration on the black community, which placed the black community on the defensive. In the midst of this, the “us versus them” ideology reared it’s ugly head. Were queer people of color were being pressured, more than usual, to pick a side?

The reactionary response from the queer community to Prop 8 and the measure’s support from people of color highlighted the failure to use proactive steps during the campaign to prevent the measure’s passage in the first place. The opposition failed to reach out appropriately and actively work with communities of color to combat the proponents, who were actively working within communities of color and their places of worship.

Looking back on the campaign against Proposition 8, we see a largely White-led effort for what many see as a White cause: queer rights. Our failure to educate the general public, and ourselves, to the diversity of the queer community has led to a disconnect within many communities. Queerty was right when it said in recent article that, “we’ve trained the media to think we’re rich and white.”  There is hope, though. Thanks to Dick Cheney of all people, we know that having some relationship to the queer community, whether having a queer family member or being in a community with a larger queer presence, has an effect on someone’s view of homosexuality and queer rights.

Unfortunately, it is painstakingly clear that the conservative-religious hold in the African-American community contributes greatly to the sizable percentage of disapproval of same-sex marriage within the community. Yet, hope is not lost. In recent years, we have seen several prominent voices in the African-American community speak out passionately for queer rights, such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, NAACP, the Congressional Black Caucus, CBC, and some religious leaders. And we have seen the Queer community begin to reach out through various venues.

However, there is a chance that the nation’s capital might provide the greatest leap forwarding in changing the face of the queer rights movement. Beyond the monuments and buildings that decorate the National Mall, the District is in many ways unique because ethnic minorities make the majority of the city. As a result, any effort undertaken by the city to affect its residents requires active minority voices on both sides.

In April, the District voted to recognize out-of-state marriage licenses of same-sex couples from around the country. This set off the flurry of debate and protest from conservative religious groups, which we have become accustomed to seeing these days. However, we also saw African-Americans leading the charge against the conservative protesters.

This unique dynamic has changed the conventional rules of engagement, and, as Adam Serwer points out in his piece for The American Prospect, “Where Blacks Lead the Fight for Gay Rights,” the demographic composition of the city has removed race and ethnicity as a a factor to be exploited by conservative organizations.

“The face of LGBT leadership in D.C. is often black. Nationally, anti-gay-rights activists have had a great deal of success in encouraging black voters to oppose gay rights, partially because LGBT rights are seen — incorrectly — as a “white issue.” But in Washington, D.C., the diverse composition of the marriage-equality movement means that marriage-equality activists don’t have to “reach out” to the black community, because they’re already part of it. That doesn’t mean marriage-equality activists don’t face serious obstacles in garnering support among African Americans, but it makes racial divisions harder to exploit. The lesson is clear — when the marriage-equality movement is integrated, outreach becomes less of an issue.”

The battle being waged in D.C. could have an insignificant ripple effect throughout the Queer Rights movement. Currently, whenever we discuss the role, or lack thereof, of minorities in the movement, we tend to split into two polarized camps. One group asserts the assumption that minorities feel as if they have less of a voice due to their lack of initiative or drive. The other argues that queer people of color do, in fact, do a lot of things already (and would like to do more) but lack the resources, such as funding, labor, and the ability to network, compared to the established the queer movement.

The District provides observers with a unique case-study where blacks, one example of a minority that has often felt excluded from the nation-wide establishment, are an integral part of the District’s queer population and activist movement. It makes it clear to critics of the black community that it is a not a community composed solely of men on the “down low” and homophobic religious people, but (also) queers and allies that take the fight for equality as seriously and passionately as the predominately white establishment in New York City or San Francisco.

The way forward for the Queer Rights movement is simple. It can no longer risk appearing as a whites-only political and cultural movement and still expect progress. Instead, it should continue to work closely with the organizations and people within the communities of color who are actively fighting the good fight, too often in the shadow.

Photo: Ed Jackson ©

Growing up with my mother and sister I learned about the importance of physical appearance. The currency of beauty transcended our housing project on the reservation, extending to the middle and upper classes to which the three of us all aspired. My mother developed fleeting crushes on handsome television actors who played doctors and lawyers, while my sister sought to date such professionals in real life. Because neither of them pursued education beyond high school, my relatives had minimal economic viability and therefore leveraged their high cheekbones and enviable figures to obtain the daily essentials and luxury splurges they could not attain on public assistance and minimum wage. The hours they spent in front of mirrors rehearsing smiles and camouflaging birthmarks would have been lost on me if I did not know from such an early age that I was gay.

My Black South African father and my German and Native American mother gave me a blended skin tone that often evokes flavorful description: mocha, caramel, butter pecan. I have almond-shaped doe eyes, a mop of loose black curls, and long limbs. During middle school and high school, I asked older friends to obtain for me copies of the Abercrombie and Fitch Quarterly, ostensibly to paste together collages of clothing that my family could never afford, but honestly, to ogle the men who would never give me the time of day in college.

The trappings of the most sexually desirable men at Dartmouth were circumscribed heavily to include improbably lean mesomorphs with bright blue eyes, obsessively manicured five o’clock shadows and abs that rippled like waves. Though these guys were not in short supply, it was a coup to snag one. A lumpy brown vegetarian inspired by Us Weekly and makeover reality shows, I launched into wholesale Costco-sized changes so that I might fit within existing parameters of beauty and sex appeal. I stopped consuming fried food, soda, and refined sugar, started exercising regularly, and chopped off my waist-length hair to make myself more conventionally attractive. Between freshman year and junior year, I lost forty pounds and began to compare myself more favorably to the handsome archetype. Emboldened by my success, I asked more guys on dates in the next month than I had since I came out. The rejections I received were friendlier than they had been forty pounds prior, but they stung more: “Sorry, you’re just not my type.” My weight was no longer the problem; my ambiguously ethnic looks seemed the likely culprit. “What are you, anyway?” asked a particularly blunt prospect, as if to confirm his disinterest. While I didn’t, and don’t, begrudge that guy his preferences, my frustration grew exponentially when I realized that my most immutable attributes were those that made me least attractive. I could cultivate an interest in evolutionary biology and downplay my long-time efforts in grassroots activism, but I could not alter my features or level of melanin.

With the aid of my best girlfriends and many a lengthy, aimless run, I had given up on trying to date in college; the pool of out gay men was small and there was very little wiggle room for diversity. Two years ago, I moved to DC to begin graduate school and have since met with similarly limited success in garnering responses to my Internet dating profiles and friendly conversation starters at mixers and social gatherings. Instead of exerting so much energy toward trying to change, I have opted to pursue other ambitions with a faint hope that something sweet will materialize organically, without my ever-watchful eye.

Although I am twenty-four, I find that I relate strongly to older gay men who say that they find themselves rendered invisible by the myopic gay male gaze. I pathologize and criticize my appearance less now than I did in undergrad, and have paradoxically turned inward to discover other characteristics that I like about myself: even outside of a romantic or sexual marketing context. Still, as David Rakoff wrote, “There are days when I would burn every book I own for the chance to be beautiful just once.”

It is difficult to remain optimistic.

Mornings suck. So every morning TNG brings you a fun video to ease the pain.

This video is fun because it demonstrates in a extraordinarily substantive way that not all Black people are anti-gay. To the extent that some Black people voted for Prop 8 and some Black people have made homophobic comments, it is, quite frankly, stupid to paint an entire community of potential allies as being bigoted and homophobic. This video demonstrates that the Black civil rights establishment is squarely on the side of full equality for the LGBT community.

“I want to talk about civil right tonight, because I believe gay rights are civil rights.” That is how venerable Civil Rights pioneer, Julian Bond, Chairman of the NAACP began a speech he delivered to a crowd of HRC supporters in Los Angeles last week. Understand, recently, Ethel Kennedy, the widow of Robert F. Kennedy said that the arch of justice does not bend on its own; we have to bend it by taking a stand … For more than 40 years, Bond has wielded a mighty hammer for social justice. He and others in the pantheon of civil rights leadership, like Congressman John Lewis, have done more to give real meaning to concepts like justice, equality, and freedom than virtually any other group in our nation’s history. Furthermore, under the leadership of its recently appointed CEO, Benjamin Todd Jealous, the organization has come out unequivocally in support of efforts to overturn Prop 8. This video demonstrates the irrefutable truth, and in the first couple of minutes, Mr. Bond discusses the late Coretta Scott King, who, before she died came out as a fervent supporter. She also made no distinction between civil rights for the LGBT community and the struggle to obtain the full recognition of rights by all people.

So, when you think about the relationship of the LGBT community and Black community, remember 1) there are Black LGBT people, and 2) Mr. Bond, Mrs. King, Congressman Lewis, and Mr. Jealous are heavyweights with a stellar track record of civil rights victories. They are on our side.

J. Clarence Flanders submitted this post.

As Americans we put a lot of emphasis on the demographics with which we identify. In many cases we see these identities as medals of honor; indeed, we consider the term “American” not just to imply our nationality, but something about our character: being of the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Any politician, in secret, would tell you that identity politics play a major role in America. However, like most things in life, our identities do not always compound well to create a cohesive mix, void of the frictions that can make life ever more difficult. 
 
I describe myself as a male Antillean-American queer-person of color progressive feminist. Long-winded and arguably a bit excessive, I know; however, I see these principle identities as  the variables that affect how I interact with the world, and how the world interacts with me. One of the most prominent, and the one that so often creates the most internal tension, and the one I decided to dedicate this piece to, is the fact that I am a queer-person of color. And it should not be difficult to see why. 
 
Anyone who has taken American history at the college level, and depending on the school, at the secondary level, understands that as it relates to ethnicity, or “race”, our country has a long history of failures and successes, from the Dred Scott v. Sanford decision to the Civil Rights Era. And as queer people and allies, we know that the history and experience of queer people in this country has also been extremely tumultuous. We also know that these groups have also come into conflict with each other on the national and local level, from time to time, the most recent being the passage of Prop 8 and the ongoing struggle between queer groups and the Black Church. 
 
These two identities are also extremely polarizing, in the sense that very often they are drawn to the forefront of the individual’s character because we–queer people, and we, African-Americans–encounter so many additional hurdles that are connected to these identities, whether it is gay students that are bullied in schools or African-Americans targeted by police merely based on their ethnicity. 
 
The conflict and tension arise when our society and these groups based on these identities respectively demand to be the one at the top of the list. One of the most frustrating questions I am often asked is, “Are you gay or are you Black first?” The frustration comes from the fact that as a queer-person of color, I realized that it is a false choice that I am nevertheless asked to make. 
 
This is partly due to the fact that in our society we subscribe to the concept that depending on the situation, our identities, and thus our priorities, arrange themselves around that situation. However, that is simply not true. When I visit family and we attend a predominantly Black church, my gay side does not take a break. If anything it comes to the forefront as I become deeply troubled by the anti-gay sentiments that I hear expressed by attendees. Convsersely, when I attend a gay rally or Pride event my Black side is troubled as I look around the crowd and appear as the lost Black sheep in a herd of White livestock. 
 
To be clear, this is not solely a “Black thing”. Most recently, for another year, gay Irish Americans were denied the opportunity to participate in the annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade here in New York City. This denial and/or refusal to acknowledge gay Irish Americans as part of the Irish community must be extremely troubling for gay Irish Americans. 
 
With all of that being said, it is important to note that this duplicity, of being queer and a person of color, is not unequivocally a negative. If anything at the end of the day I consider it a blessing, because it gives me the ability to see something with two different perspectives simultaneously. 
 
I refer to this “state of mind”, for lack of a better phrase, as the Black Closet: the union of a Venn diagram composed of the queer community and the African-American community. Embracing the fact that at various times the two principles seemingly do not embrace the fact that folks like me are part of their community, because it is in their denial that I am given an opportunity to create my own space. And the celebrities and icons that belong to this community have channeled their duplicity into their profession. Whether we are talking about James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, Bayard Rustin, or the many other queer people of color that have shaped our understanding of what it means to be queer and/or to be a minority. 
 
In the queer community we generally consider the proverbial closet to be a negative place, and it certainly is; however, in some ways, in the context in which I use it here, it is that place where the rules and social customs of outside no longer apply. It is that place where you are truly free to be you and embrace you, because you know on the outside no one else will. 
 
Like the closet, the Black Closet is not a solution, but rather a means to an end. Because it acknowledges who I am, not a Black person that happens to be queer, or a queer person that happens to be Black, but a queer person of color: an identity unto itself, like a child that shares the genetic code of its parents but is also a unique being.  It sets forth the challenge for me to advocate to have both principles seen and understand that it is not a matter of priorities, but rather embracing the diversity that exists within every demographic.

A consistent theme of my TNG columns has been coalition building, to which one TNG reader asked why white LGBT people should be expected to make the first move, especially in the aftermath of Prop 8. I’ve also written about supporting our allies, and a TNG reader replied, “Like they supported us on Prop 8.” Well, hopefully this article published on the Advocate’s website will be seen as an act of good faith and another step toward building productive, winning alliances. The Advocate reports that the NAACP has called on the California supreme court to “invalidate” Prop 8. The organization also wants the State legislature “to go on record against Prop 8,” and “The California state conference of the NAACP has already filed briefs with the California supreme court in the legal challenge against the ballot initiative, which squeaked by with 52% of the vote. California’s state court will begin hearing oral arguments to Prop. 8 on March 5.”

Statements from NAACP Chairman and Civil Rights pioneer, Julian Bond and CEO, Benjamin Todd Jealous after the fold.

NAACP CEO, Benjamin Todd Jealous, wrote in a letter to the State legislature:

“The NAACP’s mission is to help create a society where all Americans have equal protection and opportunity under the law. Our mission statement calls for the ‘quality of rights of all persons.’ Prop. 8 strips same-sex couples of a fundamental freedom, as defined by the California state supreme court. In so doing, it poses a serious threat to all Americans. Prop. 8 is a discriminatory, unprecedented change to the California constitution that, if allowed to stand, would undermine the very purpose of a constitution and courts — assuring equal protection and opportunity for all and safeguarding minorities from the tyranny of the majority.”

NAACP chairman, Julian Bond, said in a press release:

“The NAACP has long opposed any proposal that would alter the federal or state constitutions for the purpose of excluding any groups or individuals from guarantees of equal protections. We urge the legislature to declare that Proposition 8 did not follow the proper protective process and should be overturned as an invalid alteration that vitiated crucial constitutional safeguards and fundamental American values, threatening civil rights and all vulnerable minorities.”

I had a dream last night where my best friends from childhood (more commonly referred to as my “brothers”) were holding an alumni party for my high school with their dad. It was a continuation of a dream from another night where they did the same thing and in both dreams at the end of the night, their father offered sober rides home to people.

It was strange, first, because my “brothers” didn’t go to my high school and yet, here they were hosting an alumni party for my Alma Matter. It was also ironic because their family is fairly conservative and would never serve liquor in their house to anyone under the age of probably about 30. However, parents opening up their homes for high-schoolers to get drunk were not shocking occurrences at my high school by any means. (Which, to give you a better idea of who we’re dealing with here, was one of the three prep schools in which the Obama family considered enrolling their children.) I once went to a party my senior year where at the beginning of the night, our friend’s mother collected car keys at the door and made an announcement to everyone to not get too trashed and to keep drinking water.

Really, all of this is beyond the point, because the part of the dream that stuck out to me most was the fact that when my friends’ father offered us all rides, he mentioned two people he gave rides to in the previous dream. He didn’t remember their names, so he referred to them as “this white kid… oh, and a black guy, too.” Their race had absolutely nothing to do with them getting a ride home, but both in the dream and once I had woken up, I understood exactly why he phrased it the way he did.

I knew that the reason this man, a black man, stated that the first guy was white was because he simply wanted to describe the boy. I also knew that he mentioned the other kid was black as an afterthought to make sure he wasn’t coming off as sounding judgmental or assuming that the white kids at the party were the only ones who would be so irresponsible as to not be able to drive home at the end of the night. I realized after some reflection that the thought process behind these conclusions were very unique and probably not so typical.

First of all, as a black person, I find it interesting when other black people get offended when they hear a white person make a racial distinction for similar purposes. And I quietly find it amusing when I notice a white person stuttering to do so. If you ask a black person, “Who did you talk to at the front desk?” and he says, “This white guy,” it is often not as looked down upon as when the white guy at the front desk says, “I saw a black guy walk in the door.” For all of us, although we may not be saying something that is intended to be disrespectful, it is almost inevitable that we identify with our own whether we like it or not. So when we make statements like this, it becomes problematic because we come off as treating those we with whom we do not identify as the “other,” despite our intentions. Consequently, many of us avoid race description altogether and try to practice “colorblindness.”

I have come to realize over the past couple of years that my urge to ignore race and practice “colorblindness” was only my way of running away from my blackness as a kid. I grew up in Prince George’s County, and went to private schools there until high school, when I entered a prep school in Northwest, DC. Although Prince George’s County is the wealthiest black county in the nation, when it is mentioned to a rich white kid from Bethesda, as many of my peers in high school could be labeled, it was not looked upon highly. I was inadvertently taught to believe by the reactions of my peers that other than Bowie, MD (which would secede and become a part of Anne Arundel County if it could), Prince George’s County and where I lived in Largo, MD was seen as “the boonies” despite the fact that it took me ten minutes to drive to the MD/ DC border. It was seen as void of anything worthy to make someone want to travel out there, and nearly invisible. Not surprisingly, Bowie, MD probably has the highest concentration of whites that I know of in the county, which says a lot considering the Historically Black University I attend in Bowie. In retrospect, it has not been difficult to figure out what kinds of messages were being sent, whether they were intentional or not.

The other thing that makes my conclusions about this dreamt statement unique was the fact that he didn’t want to make the generalization that the white guy was the more irresponsible of the two he drove home. Having grown up in P.G. and having had the education I had in high school combined with my experience as a student at a Historically Black University has made me realize the standards that continue to be set for most young black people I’ve grown up with. For many of us, it has been expected that we are not to fall into the traps of drinking or smoking or drug use and to also have any expectation of success in the future. Many of my white peers and friends have been allowed to fall back into their privilege and are nearly expected to “experiment” and party in their college years, whereas perfection is expected from many black students who intend on ever making their families proud.

With all of that said, let me make clear that none of the above is absolute truth by any means, but let’s be honest, most generalizations and labels are not formed based on utter falsities. Honestly, I think that there are times when stating labels are important in story-telling because they clarify. The moment that label implies judgment or negativity is when the line is crossed. And really, we all have our moments of ignorance when we are unaware of crossing that line. Still, making mistakes is often how we learn the most important lessons in life. And anyhow, “Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist”, right?

Now, I rarely identify with any stereotypes whether they have to do with the fact that I am black or the fact that I am a lesbian for that matter. Nevertheless, I can often understand why they exist, even when some of these generalizations have painful histories and offensive connotations. The subjects of both race and sexual orientation can be painful even when we don’t want them to be. At the end of the day, we have to learn to accept the fact that, especially in communities like The New Gay, what makes us different cannot be ignored, but should embraced.

With the installation of the first black president of the United States, and the ascension of Michael Steele as the chairman of the GOP, many people think that Black History Month is a tad old-fashioned. It conjures up memories of earnest reports of George Washington Carver and his magic peanuts. Harriet and Rosa and Martin are now apart of the fabric of American history. I’ve heard pundits on both sides claim that racism is officially over and there is no need to celebrate Black History as a separate (but equal) part of the American story.

I say we’re not quite out of the woods yet, particularly as it pertains to racial issues in the gay community, as demonstrated by recent Prop 8 discussions, or the segregation that goes on in DC’s bars. Black History Month should be celebrated, because, who doesn’t like celebrations? I intend to blog about gay and lesbian African American issues for the rest of this month in honor of the month, illuminating this important group. I encourage other members of the TNG community to contribute stories, ideas, and perspectives around Black History Month.