Ricky | The Shame of Black Queerness Will Not Prevail
Imagine being strapped into a rollercoaster ride.
The stress.
The anxiety.
The deep feeling that you feel hit your chest each time you go through a new loop or crazy turn. You know, how you feel 3 seconds into it (because the ride only lasts for 8) as you frantically anticipate that moment being over. Fearing for the extreme of your life or even just the risk of losing something you love.
Whew…chile. Seriously though, that is what my in the closet experience was like.
A damn rollercoaster.
One of the hardest things for me to do was having to hide my sexuality from my homophobic family and peers. There were moments growing up where my dad repeatedly let me know that being gay was wrong. And to make things worse, he would sometimes even ask me if I was gay. Which oddly only made it harder for me to come out to him.
When I was at school around my peers, it was the same thing. If you did anything at all that was out of the “norm” for a Cishet, Black male to do, then you were automatically labeled as gay. For me, it was the fact that I did not play sports and had a bunch of girls as friends.
Now since Netflix decided to hop, skip, and JUMP in their bag… we can explore this concept more visually through the “Labels” episode of an iconic Black, sitcom — Moesha.
visual representation of Netflix stepping in their bag.
In the episode, Mo goes on a date with Omar, her best friend Hakeem’s cousin. Now while they’re at dinner, one of Omar’s old friends (who was clearly cast to play the heteronormative view of queerness) pops up and throws Moesha off. Simply seeing someone’s authentic self and how they interact with others of the same sex, led her to assume that her date must also be gay.
Even though it was not discussed throughout the rest of the episode, it seemed as if Omar eventually came out to Hakeem. This scene happens as Mo recites a poem at a spoken word night about her assuming she was right about his sexuality. She repeatedly uses the line:
“I know what I know if you know what I mean”
Now girl. Not to critique the show, but we have to. We know when this was produced and written, so it makes sense in terms of the age’s view on sexuality. More specifically, the negative lens that the public had toward Queer folks in the Black community. However, it does not make it right.
Visual depictions like this around Queer culture make it difficult for our community to be ourselves around anyone. If society says that it is wrong to be gay, then what am I supposed to do?
I used to try my absolute best to not present myself as or give off any type of “gay vibes”.
I used to wonder why God made me the way that I am.
Growing up, I had to hide one of the best parts of myself. I did not think that it was fair that all of my friends had the privilege of being straight, and I didn’t. Why were their lives better than mine? What did I have to do in order to not feel this way anymore?
These were the questions that filled my consciousness as I reflected on my authenticity.
The older I got, the more comfortable I became with myself, and the more I wanted to actually begin exploring my sexuality. This then led me to eventually find my first love who was also “in the closet”.
Yes, it seemed terrible, but not in the ways that you would think.
Why did we have to hide our love for one another when it became so validating to me? To have someone who understood what I was going through was all that I could have asked for at that time. And although being with him gave me a rush, keeping our relationship a secret made me feel as if we were tiptoeing on the thin edge of danger. We both knew that at any moment, someone could see us together and out us to the public.
Jamal Jordan, a Black Digital Editor at the New York Times, explores this concept through the art of storytelling. In an article from 2018, he discusses growing up without representation of what Black, Queer love actually looked like. In navigating our complex journey of finding meaning in how we feel, living in the realness of being Queer becomes easier to do when you can see images of yourself in others.
One partner from the series, Hassan, shares what they know to be true about Black, Queer love:
“I think it’s important for Black folks to know that we can come together and love each other in intimate, romantic, and spiritual ways.”
Black, Queer couple.
This is what I found in my boyfriend at the time. Both of us had similar experiences growing up that made our connection even stronger. And I had some pretty great times with him… they just happened to be ‘in the closet’.
One of those #ClosetMoments actually happened during his birthday. I was still in high school at the time, so I had one of my friends that were 21 buy us a bottle of Patron. For the obvious reason, I decided to stash it underneath my bed. This was also the place that I chose to hide the journal where I had confessed to myself about having said boyfriend.
Now you don’t even have to tell me, I know.
Did I incriminate myself on purpose?
Probably.
I really thought that I would not get caught by anyone even though I picked the worst hiding spot. Long story short, my mother found both whiles “cleaning up my room”. She threw the Patron bottle out (wasting my damn money), and then had the nerve to question me about the alleged boyfriend when I approached her.
In the true fashion of avoiding the obvious, I lied.
I acted as if I was mad and not shocked about what had just gone down. As I headed back to my room, I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. Even though I knew that I lied about it, that moment was not meant for me to “come out” to my mother. It was not meant to provide her with the space to pass judgment on who I was.
Instead, at that moment, I did what I needed to do to protect myself and my space.
I had to realize that the opinions of others have no control over who gets sent to heaven or hell. They could not control what happened to me in my life so that judgment didn’t matter. No one has to have a specific coming-out moment, but if you do, have it when you are ready.
Do not feel pressured to tell anyone your story when they want you to.
It’s yours to tell.
In those moments, it’s important to know that we are capable of anything that we set our minds to. To know that our sexuality will not get in the way of us achieving our dreams. To know that by simply being our authentic selves, we have always been enough.
Telling people THOSE stories?
Those are the ones that matter.
#YourStoryMatters
