Shaun | Some Black, Queer Truth: Turning Drama into Resilience
“I don’t want you to be this way.”
After knowing someone for a decade and a half, this was their response the moment that I revealed to them a secret that I had been hiding to myself for just as long. An undisclosed truth about who I truly am was buried away for this very reason. Hidden from everyone, and even myself, because I had been raised to shame this version of my identity.
Hearing these words moments after I had told one of my best friends that I was gay broke my heart.
It hurt me even more once I saw them crying, and then realized that [I] got ditched in my own driveway. Through years of finally understanding what I was going through and being able to accept it, why was this part so painful?
It just so happened that the year I was born, was the same year that my favorite movie Forrest Gump came out. That same year was also when the late Pedro Zamora and Sean Sasser became the first same-sex couple to get married on national TV. This was such a historic moment in Queer history because before then it was damn near impossible to see queer people of color in the media, let alone in love.
Pedro Zamora and Sean Sasser wedding hosted on MTV: The Real World
I’m all about timing, so this was just an affirmation of who I was meant to be in life.
Growing up in the early 2000s, I began to actually see people that looked and felt the way that I did. Even through discrimination and hate crimes, queer folk still seemed to be happy.
They were resilient.
They were learning how to be free.
They were making their own happiness.
I wanted that too.
As an adolescent, I couldn’t have imagined what it meant to have a queer role model. I guess I thought that all of us gays were doing the same thing; just chilling in the closet with everyone else. But what I realized is that “the closet” gave LGBTQ+ folks the strength to overcome the obstacles thrown to them in life, out or not.
At that moment with my best friend, I decided that I was going to feel happiness instead of pain. I vowed to myself that I would never allow anyone to feel bad for me or to be able to speak on who I was ever again. I promised that young black gay boy back then that I would be resilient and become free. The journey is never easy, but every experience that I had prior gave me the strength to keep going.
For some, being in “the closet” means shame, internalized homophobia, and/or that you are afraid to show your true colors to the world.
I’m here to tell you that’s not true.
Those colors are yours to rock publicly or privately.
At a parade or at home.
On your phone or in your mind.
For those who have experienced a #ClosetMoment, how has that had an influence on who you are today?
Throughout childhood, I always knew that there was something different about me. I’m sure others knew it too, but it was always disguised as a microaggression. Before even being able to understand what I was feeling, I was immersed in a culture of opposing beliefs and actions. I would feel attacked while I was at home, but I would feel embarrassed around my friends.
Being in a constant state of fear that your identity will be challenged, you begin to make up for any idle time. For me, school was the easiest way to stand out because I genuinely enjoyed learning, and I had the opportunity to stay for extracurriculars. Once my homework was done, I was already dressed and ready to go find my friends outside.
I became social, heavily involved, and a bookworm all because I was trying to find ways to hide my sexuality.
I had a friend that would always tell her Jamaican father that I was gay so that he would allow us to hang out together. This was before I even knew that I was gay, but somehow, I became okay with it. Having small bits of my queer personality slip out at random times, I built up tough skin for negative remarks and even learned how to defend myself.
84% of gay and transgender youth report being verbally harassed. Growing up gay, you have to learn how to protect yourself, or else you will be hurt every day from verbal, emotional, mental, or physical abuse.
Why do you think queer folk don’t care what you say to them or aren’t afraid to back down from a fight?
It’s because we never had the chance to.
Nobody shows up for us the way that we do.
That is what “the closet” did for me. Although people should be able to be open and celebrated for being their authentic selves, I was able to find the light through the darkness. It allowed me the space to find the truth in who I was and how to express the pride in that. It gave me a community of people who have experienced similar situations that we can all grow from if shared. It showed me that for something that weighed so heavily on my soul, my queerness was not the only part of my identity.
I’m Black.
I’m a man.
I’m a brother.
I’m a friend.
I’m a student.
I’m a professional.
I’m creative.
I’m smart.
I’m loving.
I’m handsome.
I’m gay.
And above all, I’m proud.
So, let the closet be your power ground.
Unlock those gifts that have been growing inside of you.
Take pride in those moments that have taught you how to be who you are today.
Do not let the public opinion of “coming out” define your strength.
No matter how you identify, your experience is valid.
Your identity has always been valid.
#YourStoryMatters
