When I first heard someone use the word “gay”, I was in first grade and a classmate used it as an adjective to describe someone’s behavior. I asked my parents later in the car what the word meant, to which they replied that it is simply when two girls like each other or two boys like each other. Sensing the negative connotation that my fellow classmate was trying to attach to it, I replied with “what’s wrong with that?”. “Nothing.”, they said.
The truth is, I very much enjoy my straight-passing privilege. It is safe...it is convenient… and I never have to explain myself to anyone.
I am Queer. More specifically, I am a femme presenting, technically “bisexual”, very hetero-palletable, Black woman. I have known that I was attracted to girls almost as long as I have known that I am attracted to guys. I had a crush on pop star Aaron Carter AND Chel from The Road to El Dorado at an early age, except I always somehow knew one had to be kept secret. I have always been a person who is very prideful of my identities; Woman, Black, Student, etc. So when I came to terms with the fact that I didn’t only appreciate the beauty of other women from an “objective” standpoint, I was faced with a challenging question: do I embrace the fact that I am not straight as a part of my identity? Or do I pretend it doesn’t exist?
Labels are hard because only certain ones matter.
For example, no one really cares if you have brown hair, it’s not significant. But being Black or another marginalized group is certainly a label that matters, and you typically can’t escape it. I have only ever dated men, I don’t “look” like someone who doesn’t fit into heterosexual societal standards for my gender, and I am technically halfway in the closet. If you ask me directly, I will tell you that I personally identify as being queer, but that is only if I am asked very specifically and deliberately about my personal sexuality.
The truth is, I very much enjoy my straight-passing privilege. It is safe...it is convenient… and I never have to explain myself to anyone. I have learned over the years, even before I self-identified as queer, that people are very uncomfortable with things that they don’t quite understand. And being uncomfortable is fine most of the time. When you try on a new pair of jeans you didn’t break in yet, it’s kinda uncomfortable . But when people are uncomfortable in regards to someone else’s sexuality, they can be ostracizing at best, but often times dangerous and oppressive at worst.
“She like girls you know... I don’t want her to hit on me... don’t invite her.”
“Boom bye bye inna batty bwoy head” -Buju Banton
“If a dude ever hit on me I’d kill him.”
I had a conversation recently with an acquaintance, ironically on Bi-Visibility Day. She mentioned in passing that Pete Wentz was black (who knew???!!!), and naturally I was excited as hell, and my inner angsty emo kid screamed with joy. Already in a good mood and remembering the significance of the day, I cheerily mentioned that Pete Wentz is also bisexual. “Really? That’s weird.”, she replied with no lack of disgust. And suddenly, I wanted to be invisible on bi-visibility day. “My” day. She proceeded to elaborate on her beliefs after an obligatory “I have NO problem with gay people, but…” stating that not only was it weird, but it wasn’t something that represented the black community.
She believes the public visibility of black gay men was “emasculating” the black man, because that is not what black men are, and that young children who see gay people on TV are being exposed to sexual ideas that wouldn’t otherwise be there. I asked her why it was ok for a heterosexual couple to kiss on TV and not a same sex couple, and she simply replied “because it’s not normal” and would-be-straight kids wouldn’t think about those things if they weren’t shown them. Essentially she was scared it would TURN straight children gay. She believed that my crush on Aaron Carter was normal because of genetics (never mind the hundreds of animal species its been recorded in, see research by Aldo Poiani), but my (secret) crush on Chel must have been conditioned (molestation is often a factor, according to her). That black LGBTQIA+ individuals shouldn’t be represented in the media because that is not what being “black” looks like. That it is not normal. I wanted with every fiber of my being to jump out of my already half opened closet and yell “I AM WHAT BLACK LOOKS LIKE. I AM QUEER. I AM NOT A PREDATOR. AND I AM FUCKING NORMAL.”...But I couldn’t. I stopped speaking all together, and I tried very, very hard to become invisible on my first almost proud bi-visibility day.
Her mindset is a result of decades, even centuries of conditioning, no fault of her own, in which gay men (and women) were hyper-sexualized, ostracized, and categorized as predators. In the 1950s, ads were literally made warning young children to beware of homosexuals, so they don’t try to “prey” on you. The American Psychological Association actually considered homosexuality to be a disease officially until 1987. It is her fault, however, that she has not employed critical thinking to undo aforementioned conditioning. The notion that being “gay” isn’t Black is simply untrue, and those who claim that it is simply do not know their history.
Homosexuality has been recorded in black people all the way back to the continent of Africa. In fact, King Danieri Basammula-Ekkere Mwanga II Mukasa of the Kingdom of Buganda (in modern day Uganda) was well known to have sexual relations with men as well as women. In fact, when European and Arabian missionaries attempted to condemn same sex relations and influence his subjects to do the same, he often had them killed (yikes. It be like dat doe *insert shrug emoji*).
Modern LGBTQIA+ civil rights AND black revolutionary struggles literally would not be what they are today without the sacrifices and dedication of BLACK queer revolutionaries (See Marsha P. Johnson, James Baldwin, Angela Davis, Alicia Garza, etc). Being black, being queer, and being way better than normal, is something that I wish was accepted, embraced, LOVED by my people. Black people have shown time and time again that they will love and protect predators the likes of R. Kelly before they protect their LGBTQIA+ brothers and sisters. I would die for my people, I just wish that you all could love me for who I am half as hard.
I’m not the “perfect” queer woman. In fact, I’m still terrified of being queer most of the time...I don’t even like most girls (granted I don’t like most guys either lol). I can’t loudly claim my identity and defend it tooth and nail as my own yet, and honestly I am still very comfortable with blending into heterosexual spaces… but I’m working on it. Maybe next year, on my second prideful bi-visibility day, I will only be using my closet for shoes, and the storage of what used to be fear.
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