Found at Blaqueer Pozitivity
Source: Ms. Lauryn Hill
BlaQueer
Wine not Whine. Fat, Black, Queer, Scholar, so, (un)screwed.
Category Archives: Politics
On: “Why my Facebook Picture is not the HRC in Red but a Black Fist”
Yesterday Facebook, from a glance, bled red. People picked their sides and fired shots with their mouse pads’ right click buttons and status updates. A red and pink HRC emblem and you were so obviously pro-marriage equality and gay rights, the absence of such a picture marked laziness, indifference, or anti-marriage equality and, supposedly, anti gay rights. But, that is part of the problem, to be anti-marriage equality is often equated with being anti-gay rights, but can’t one be anti-marriage equality, perhaps because they are simply anti-marriage, and still pro-gay rights, or can’t one be anti-marriage equality and anti-gay rights, but pro queer liberation? This brings me to the actual larger issue, what I find most fascinating: If one looked closely at Facebook they would see that yesterday revealed real deep divisions in the gay/queer community.
Some of us, in my feed, those who labeled themselves queer and many of the black lgbtq identified people (although to be honest, most of my lgbtq friends are black so that can create a skewed picture), did not replace our profile pictures with the red and pink HRC emblem because for us marriage-equality is not where our investment lies. On a purely selfish level, I am still struggling to fight for a world, a place, where my body and skin can be seen as desirable—not simply a fetishistic choice—to give me a real chance of being loved. That is more my fight, the right to be loved and wanted, but that is not easily solved and most certainly not via legal channels. I am still invested in the fight that makes being a femme sissy acceptable, and a world where I am not told by other gay people that I am simply a stereotype and “holding the movement back.” My worries are that it is statistically more likely that I or one of my friends will contract HIV than it is that we will marry or even be loved, and that it feels as if, now that the face of HIV and AIDS is mostly Black and Brown, the (white) gay community has turned its back on us; one of my friend’s called it “AIDS fatigue.” I am not trying to be facetious,; I get that marriage equality is important to many people, gay and straight, but mostly for personal reasons, and that is the point—the above reasons are personal for me, but, in my limited experience, whenever one raises these points, whenever one says that gaycism, gay related sexism and misogyny, effemiphobia, employment opportunity, housing opportunities, or any other issue is a larger issue for them than marriage, they become “that guy/girl/person/v.” That is the other thing; I am tired of being “that guy”
So, while my straight brother has up the HRC sign, I changed my profile picture to another red picture, a fist with a quote from Michael Cavadias:
“I very much hope the Supreme Court will rule for marriage equality nationwide. Mostly because it might free up the LGBT movement to get back to pressing social justice issues like health care (remember “health care is a right” from ACT UP?), housing justice and empowering the most invisible and dispossessed in our community.”
I read this and shouted, “hallelujah!” I support marriage equality in the sense that if someone wants to be married then they should have the right to be married, but I am not necessarily pro-monogamy (or anti it), nor am I in general a pro-marriage person, nor do I think it will solve any of the problems that I care about and seem more pertinent to my particular community. And before you say it, I get that it people are, now, not claiming it will solve all our problems but, honestly that is the impression the mainstream (mostly white and relatively privileged) gay rights movement has given; it dominates our conversations and it often feels like a measuring stick for how “committed to the cause” one is. I wish that the conversations were framed differently but alas they weren’t, they are not; it should not be an either, or. I wish that more gay people envisioned a different way of performing a marriage or being in a relationship, but alas that is not the case.
Basically, I am just ready for it to be over; I am tired of always having to say, “there are other things to talk about.” I am tired of saying how exhausted I am with the issue only to have a friend, or even someone I respect, write to me or talk to me about how, for them, “I am missing the issue,” or how we must make priorities—I am not five and I am not dumb; I get the importance, I get the issue, and I am still tired. I am tired of the unwritten rule that if you don’t make same-sex marriage the most important issue to you then you are somehow a “bad gay.” I am tired of having to continually say “what about this issue here or this issue that affects this not-so-acceptable not-just-like-everybody-else community.” I want to actually talk about those issues, address those issues. I am ready to see how many gay couples stick around and devote their pages and voices to these new issues, issues that may not affect them, the same way others, I included, supported the issue of marriage equality, which was/is close to their heart. I am ready to see the gay rights movement truly grow past equality and toward liberation. I am so invested in not just saying “it gets better” because for many of use that is a lie—we get better, it gets harder—but making it better for those of us at the very bottom of not only society but gay and queer society as will. But, in general, in the most simplistic terms:
I am pro-marriage equality.
I am tired.
I am not a bad gay.
I am an okay queer.
I do not have a red HRC logo.
I have a red fist.
(More) ON: After We Get to Legally Say “I Do” (If we do)
This is an excerpt from an exchange I had with a friend on Facebook about me noticing how most of my friends who label themselves queer are not changing their profile pictures to the red HRC emblems:
I mean I blogged about it, basically I support marriage equality in the sense that if someone wants to be married then they should have the right to be married, but I am not necessarily pro-monogamy (or anti it), nor am I in general a huge marriage person, nor do I think it will solve any of the problems that I care about and seem more pertinent to my particular community. I wish that the conversation(s) were framed differently but alas they weren’t; I wish that more gay people envisioned a different way of performing a marriage or being in a relationship, but alas that is not the case. So basically I just am ready for it to be over; I am tired of always having to say, “there are other things to talk about.” I am tired of saying how tired I am only to have a friend or even someone I respect write to me or talk to me about how, for them, “I am missing the issue,” or how we must make priorities; I am not five, I am not dumb; I get the importance, I get the issue, and I am still tired. I am tired of the unwritten rule that if you don’t make same-sex marriage the most important issue to you then you are somehow a “bad gay.” I am tired of having to continually say “what about this issue here or this issue that affects this not-so-acceptable not-just-like-everybody-else community ,” and instead, actually talk about the issues, address those issues. I am ready to see how many gay couples stick around and devote their pages and voices to these new issues, issues which may not affect them, the same way others have supported them. But ingeneral, in the most simplistic terms:I am pro-marriage equality and I am tired.
ON: After We Get to Legally Say I DO (If we get too): LGBTQQIAA Rights Beyond Same-Sex Marriage
Let me start by stating that I am not saying that LG (not really the B,T,I, Qs, or As) movers and shakers are saying that same-sex marriage is the “be all and end all” of the gay rights movement BUT they sure make you feel like it is; for years (basically my entire “gay puberty” [ the time in your life after you come out and everything is full on boys, boys, boys; 24/7 gay and you bleed rainbow, but before everything is boys, queerness, and you just don’t bleed]) everything has been about either the right to marry or to serve in the military, and some gay god on high pronounced some commandment of Thou mayest not sayest anything against same sex marriage lest ye be shunned, banned from all parties, and never able to buy lube again.
Today, in my room, lying in bed, with a Vicks Vaporsteam machine sputtering beside me (I am slightly terrified that my forearm will be popped with hot vicks liquid), I am wondering a simple thing: What happens if gay people get the verdict they want? (There are potentially numerous outcomes.) What happens if it is DOMA is declared unconstitutional? Do all the activists pack their bags and go home? Doubtful At least not those who are dedicated to activism and broader equality, but what about those who cast same-sex marriage in very personal terms? Once Adam marries Steve will he just go to the burbs or the gayborhood and quietly raise their children and feed their dog and talk to their neighbors at the local WholeFoods about how the price of imported cheese has slightly increased? I mean this is what they are fighting for, yes, the chance to be like everyone else? But what about those of us who are not like everyone else?
You see I want the same-sex marriage thing to be decided and over because I am ready for this phase of the gay rights movement to be over. I guess the reality is I am still in the queer liberation phase. Beyond just the flat argument of “equality” (which is in truth a very vague concept Who are we equal to; who is becoming equal; what does this equality look like, feel like, sound like; how do we know we are equal?) I have no investment in SSM. No one loves me. I don’t say that for pity, it is just a fact; no one loves me (romantically) and there is nothing in my life that points to that changing anytime soon; so while gay activists have, rightfully, argued for the right to marry, many have not challenged the idea that couples, particularly monogamous couples, should receive special treatment and consideration and benefits. I am not aware of any movement to make it easier for queer singletons to adopt, or to make medical interventions to have children cheaper and affordable. No one has spoken to life as a queer singleton, at least not to my knowledge.
Also, once Adam and Steve, Ida and Eve go home to their Cains and Abels there is still this HIV thing going on. The two should not be mutually exclusive but often it has felt that a focus on one issue comes at the expense of all others. Unfortunately the problem is, or seems to be, that right when HIV started looking more and more like a black and latino gay thang Same Sex Marriage became the gay thing; so once this is over are we going to start addressing the scary reality that 1 in 4 black MSMs are HIV positive, that many don’t know it, that there is a high possibility of me or one of my friends contracting the virus, and that while yes, you can live as HIV positive person, a full beautiful life, no, it is not just like diabetes, it is still a serious illness. Can we talk about this again?
Or, can we talk about how in certain states you can still be fired for being queer? Can we talk about being queer? Can we talk about how we as a community do not address the misogyny in our community or the sexism? Can we talk about how despite all claims of the gay community being more accepting than the heterosexual community there are still black prides and latino prides in addition to (white) Pride, or how certain clubs have urban nights only on certain nights, or how some of us have to deal with disappointed white faces when we say we are not a top? Can we talk about gaycism? Can we talk about how rape is a gay rights issue? Can we talk about how stop and frisk is a gay rights issue? Can we talk about how it seems to get any attention in this community, whether it be for activist causes, love, poetry, film work, news story, or just a hello at a bar someone has to deem you fuckable? Can we address how for some of us it may get better but it also is harder? Can debate whether being loved is a right or a privilege? Can we talk about how we discriminate in our own community, particularly against the fat obese body and the effeminate man? Unfortunately I can not speak to the lesbian performance of these discriminations. Can we talk about the divide between lesbians and gay men? Can we talk about the way we look sideways at bisexuals? Can we talk about how being trans and being gay are not the same? Can we talk about how so often we are not always there for our trans-siblings? Can we talk about how immigration is a gay rights issue? Can we talk about how poverty is a gay rights issue? Can we lay all our shit on the table? Can we admit that the fight is no where near over?
Can we talk?
Important update: A commenter mentioned something that bears repeating in this post; we also need to talk about the prison industrial complex as a queer liberation issue, and gender (and perceived gender) based violence and assault as lgbtqqiaa issues.
The Fat Boi Diaries: Why Selfies?
Last week at an apartment party in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood on the North side, I whipped out my iPhone 5, told the folks at the gathering to press together, and clicked away. Simple act, happens at least a hundred times a day, and I completed the ritual by posting the picture to my instagram and linking it to my Facebook account. But, before I could put the camera away I heard a friend joke, read, throw a little shade (?) my way and say:
“Watch, tomorrow there will be like five picture of himself up there.”
Yes, guilty as charged, I am a selfie. One of those annoying people who take tons of self-pictures. Declaring to the world that I look good and you know it. This is so true that the same friend had earlier brought up the topic with me; apparently he and another friend occasionally discussed my self-pictures. My narcissism flagged alarm. But, here is the thing:
No one ever asked me, “Why do you take so many selfies?”
I mean, I am not traditionly phine, cute, or awkwardly endearing. I am fat. Daaaaaark. My nose is wide. My hair is kinky ( a biracial friend once used my hair texture to describe to a white stranger what “bad hair” is, apparently any hair that can kink up; mind you, at the time my hair was short, combed, and nap-free but I digress). My eyebrows are not plucked, and I swear my pores are visible. But this is the point.
I live in a world where this is celebrated and attainable:
I could go on, but you get the point. That is beautiful. No argument there; they may all be assembly line phine, but they are each phine. I even fail on quirk level:
now note: I have limited the photos to black men; the reality is that in the GAYme of Trones, white boys tend to be the Lannisters (the most powerful, most often desired, and the ones most likely to toss their beauty privilege around), but I just figured for once we could focus on just us.
I take my selfies because I am that guy who, unless he takes the picture or suggests it, doesn’t get his picture taken. My friend who asked, truthfully had very little right to judge; everyone takes pictures of him, with him, and for him. The same is true of almost all my friends. I live in a world where I didn’t hear someone romantically call me beautiful and desirable till I was 26. I live in a world where either body privilege or race privilege is always against me. So I point my camera at my face, most often when I am alone, and possibly bored, and I click; I upload it to instagram, and I hold my breath because the world is cruel and I am what some would call ugly, but I don’t see it. At first I clicked so I could see what others saw, but I don’t. So now I click and post and breathe, waiting for others to see what I see: beautiful dark skin, Afrika’s son, a dream un-deferred, pretty eyes,and nice lips, and a nose that fits my face; I want them, you, to see that I am human, and there is a reason why I got to this size, but I owe you no explanation or justification for any part of my existence I owe you no explanation or justification for my smile or my swag or my selfie. Hell I didn’t even owe you this.
Like I said, I owe you nothing, but I owe myself everything.
Told you that saying “Gay is the new Black” is so last season (and the season before and the season before)
I found a 2011 peice I wrote in resonse to Monique Ruffin’sDecember 2011 piece “It’s official gay is the new black” over on the Huffington Post; I share it to show how my argument, for better or worse, has not changed, and also to show how I stated before, this claim is not new. (I have also wrote about this at least 3-4 years ago in St Louis’ The Vital Voice) My old piece:
“Gay is the new Black” (GITNB); it is witty, catchy, and T-shirt consumer ready but the problem is it is overly simplistic and blatantly wrong. Monique Ruffin’s well intentioned article is simply the latest entry in a campaign to equate sexuality-based oppression with race-based oppression. An awareness is needed; we must look at the phrase “gay is the new black” and recognize that it simultaneously conflates oppression with fashion and replaces one oppression with another. We must ask ourselves: what does this mean and what are the consequences of this? In order for this to be true then one of two things must occur; either race-based oppression has ended (When did this happen?) or caring about race-based oppression is passé and tired. The consequences of this sentence, this campaign are many and profound:
- While articles like Ruffin’s are quick to, rightfully, take the black church to task for its homophobia, they also treat the black culture as one monolithic being that is fully homophobic. They reduce us to flattened people; people void of nuance; people without a complicated history when it comes to queer sexuality and queer people.
- The GITNB crowd leave unexamined, unmentioned, un-confronted the ways gay culture is in many ways deeply racist and rushing after privilege; it does not question how the gay rights movement tries desperately hard to break down the walls between gay men and white male privilege not to destroy that privilege but instead to partake in it.
- GITNB thinking does not recognize that there are queer people who are gay and black, gay and latino, gay and Asian, gay and American Indian, gay and mixed-raced and that we therefore experience multiple forms of oppression from multiple places of origin; due to this, our voices are often silenced except for those few of who are trotted out to support the idea that our raced communities are more homophobic than mainstream (i.e. White) America. (Never-mind that many white gay peoples have historically fled their original mostly white neighborhood to set-up gayborhoods, or that every single piece of homophobic, anti-gay, anti-queer legislation has been passed by majority white legislatures.)
- Finally GITNB ignores the fact that we live in a world of multiple oppressions–W.E.B. Du Bois statement ““for the problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the color-line” is no longer true; the problem of the Twenty-First Century is the problem of Lines. We live in a world where many of us occupy roles of oppressor and oppressed; I am black, queer, fem, fat, dark, but I am also male, educated, and middle class; I have my privileges and to run from this is to be part of the problem.
It does no good to say “gay is the new black”; gay will never be the new black because black will always be black and gay will always be gay, and it is not that the two will never meet; it is that they already do and always have as long as these subjectivities have existed. Oppression by nature, as power’s enabler, works diffusively and creatively in multiple simultaneous ways–each feeding the other. We need articles detailing how oppressions are linked and examining the real world effects of these links (see the handling/reporting of the Lawrence King murder case).
Of course I could be flip and write what a friend of mine wrote to me on my Facebook page regarding Ruffin’s article; he wrote “when will they say ‘Big is the new Gay’?” I replied “You know never; gay people hate big people, especially [us] gay fat people, too much to let that happen.” But I can’t write that because that is like gay racism, we just can’t talk about that–hurts our mainstream campaign by showing that like others we oppress as we are currently being oppressed.
I’m just saying.
Ethnic Notions
Color Adjustments
Basically, I am still saying Happy Birthday Marlon.
Happy Birthday Fellow Aquarian Marlon Riggs
Yolo Akili is also posting about marlon riggs brilliance on his website under the post “A moment for Marlon”; I had to do my own post because if there is any academic I relate to the most it is Riggs. Black, queer, dark, religious background, military ties, hard fought self love, interest in media representations, being one of the few black amongst white people, he is a part of me or I am a part of him, one of his children. here are some links:
Story of Marlon Riggs
Affirmations
Black is Black Ain’t (this was essential for my survival; I was an undergraduate in university and I had started to feel more of a distance between my white friends and myself, many of whom would tell me how they forgot I was black, and yet many of the black people I met would assert that for reasons x and y I was not “black enough.” Despite my skin, which other black people informed me was/is dark skin and therefore somehow in someway less desirable less worthy, I wasn’t black enough, I wasn’t really black. While colorism was new for me, the accusations about my blackness echoed my childhood when I was called an oreo; when I first started befriending other black people in college I had to frequently defend/prove my blackness. This documentary saved me because it confirmed for me blackness and what I have always known. Blackness is vast and complex and there are many ways to be it, to perform, and we all come at it differently. Gumbo.):
Tongues Untied (Seeing this was one the most profound moments in my life; I can honestly say that I don’t know if I would of came to terms with my sexuality without it, and not just my sexuality but the way I performed it as if it were disconnected from my blackness. Marlon Riggs saved me.)
gone too soon
I look up to you
BlaQueer 