Last week I was in Washington, DC to attend/volunteer for the National Black Justice Coalition’sOUT on the Hill Black LGBT Leadership Summit, a four-day long summit that convened key stakeholders in the Black LGBT community, including elected officials, policy advocates, activists, and emerging leaders. To say it was an amazing experience would be an understatement—it was beautiful, uplifting, and most of all, empowering.
For the first time in my life, I was around people who both looked like me and identified in the same community, who I could reach out and talk to with open arms.
From the moment I walked in on the first day, I was embraced with a “hello” and a “Yasss honey, WERKK!” (in reference to my Beyoncé pin I adorned all week). From that moment on, I felt around family. Continue reading →
Today, I saw a magazine cover targeted to the LGBTQ community (this time, it was specifically towards the men having sex with men spectrum), and there was one very obvious thing to me: there were no men of colour. You can argue the colour scheme chosen for said cover eliminates the ability to view race, but I’d have to call bullshit on that.
As soon as I saw it, I just put my head down, shook my head, and sighed. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but to me, it is so much more than a magazine cover. It’s the overwhelming feeling that I, as a gay Black man, am invisible to the greater LGBTQ community. And this is not the first cover to do this. In fact, if you Google image search “gay magazine covers,” you’ll see the same thing: an alarming number of white men. Now don’t think I am against white gay males (I’m known for being down with the swirl myself), but how am I supposed to feel included with the marginalized community I belong to, if I can never see any fair representations of myself?