For those of you who don’t know me, I’m black; and – if you have not been able to guess by now – I’m gay. So, as a black gay male, I find myself writing about topics and issues that I feel need to be addressed. So, for this issue, I decided that I’d write about homophobia in the black community. This is an issue I can speak on and that I call the plight of a “double minority.”
However, what I thought would be a simple article became multiple disjointed, directionless articles that just piled up on my Google Docs.
The truth is, as a black man in America, I’ve experienced more homophobia from my black counterparts than my non-black counterparts. The hyper-masculinity and toxicity that is very prevalent in the Black community are some of the leading roots of its homophobia. But the thing is, this is true about all communities; hyper and toxic masculinity are at the root of homophobia everywhere. Think about it – how is the Black community’s attitude towards gay people any different than homophobic southern white conservatives? What makes one group more homophobic than the other?
In trying to find inspiration for this article, I came across a piece on Vox by Ernest Owena, who writes about the Kevin Hart Oscar controversy from the lens of a gay black man. In reading it, Owena said something that made me realize the shortcomings of my original article. Basically, black people (really, ALL people of color) are stereotyped to be inherently more homophobic than white people. If you look at films like Call Me By Your Name or Love, Simon, the gay, white protagonist is accepted by his loving family and community almost immediately after coming out. However, in films like Moonlight, the queer protagonist basically remains in the closet for the entire film, and it’s constantly reaffirmed that his community (which is a majority black) hates gay people. While homophobia in the black community is an irrefutable issue, it’s not just a black issue – it’s an American issue.
At the end of the day, being a young queer person of color and experiencing discrimination from your own community hurts. For most people, it hurts a lot more than it would if they received it from another race. People from your own community are supposed to be your rock, some of the only individuals who understand what you’re going through as a minority in America. To be rejected by your own community – especially over something you can’t control – is disgraceful. You can’t say #Blacklivesmatter if you don’t mean ALL Black Lives Matter. If there’s one thing I would like you to take away from this article, it’s this: if you’re black, don’t exclude your queer brothers and sisters. And please, for the love God, PUT MORE QUEER PEOPLE OF COLOR IN MOVIES AND TV SHOWS!