negrosunshine:

despite my post college financial insecurities and the fact my three degrees in political science. art history. and african american studies (not listed in order of importance) are so abstract it qualifies me to work in pretty much nothing except the field of academia. i quit my non-academic full time job today and traded in my benefits to (in the romantic answer) sit in this coffee shop in the middle of the day and read and write. or (in the unromantic answer) i quit because it was a job made horrible by a number of factors, mostly constructed by issues of race, class, and sexuality. and while i knew my side career in the world of fashion and retail  would be no comfortable space for a radical black queer writer/activist, rent needed to be paid and working various jobs as a stylist and visual merchandiser has proven something im good at and gives me an outlet to release some of my creativity. with a full understanding there is no “safe space” in an anti-black world, a loose form of toleration becomes a tool of survival, and an unsteady peace can be found in the silence of non-response. but there is only so much a black queer can take. or something on the matter of what happens to a black student activist trained in critical black studies trying to make it in the world without getting arrested (again).

when i was working as a student activist and community organizer, my comrades and i found ourselves (more than we wanted to) having to explain, speak to, and testify against the micro-aggressions of anti-Black violence—those spirit injuring qualities of Black everyday living. though we found ourselves center stage, celebrated, and given “support” during high times of anti-black racism (“nigger” incidents, nooses hung, acts of police brutality[i], etc.) it was difficult getting our environment to reckon its ‘latent anti-blackness,’ or the fact just being Black is stressful enough. we racked our brains to the point of insanity coming up with nuanced ways of addressing the invisibility of Blackness while at the same time defending ourselves and “community” against the hypervisibility of Blackness. a task much better fought in numbers than alone.  and here i find myself, on the streets of chicago, largely alone, trying to make a life for myself.  running into the same issues of the past and trying to figure out the right strategies of dealing with it. which is a polite way of saying, im trying hard to keep my Nat Turner ambitions at bay and resisting the urge to send out a distress call to my various comrades now scattered throughout the world. and while im positive they are dealing with similar situations, they would laugh at me for this particular form of resistance, i quit, but before i did, i used some waka flaka flame (to perhaps my detriment).

 i accepted a position as a visual merchandiser at a downtown corner store with large windows! for those not familiar with the world of retail, this means i had a lot of space for me to create displays in the most focal part of the city. too bad i worked with a bunch of rude racist transphobic white hipsters.

 in queer-social spaces, its no secret black queers are not automatically accepted as part of the group. ive learned to deal with that, usually leaning on my middle-classed demeanor. ive written elsewhere on notions of beauty and class in queer spaces and my particular experiences, so i wont hash that out now. but at this new job, i was assumed straight (until one day i wore some short shorts), and in that initial assumption i was deemed outsider, which made for a horrible work environment, largely because white queer boys can be evil brats, particularly when they are hipsters, working in fashion, and ugly (okay, that last one was just me venting and being stupid, but seriously). the black queers i used to organize with would always joke, ‘the world doesn’t think Black-queer, you are either queer or you are Black, and since the Blackness is undeniable, black people can’t be queer.” Well that joke preceded me in my new job, and everything that comes with being Black in the world of fashion followed. there is some really interesting work out there on the position of Black bodies in the world of fashion and im surprised there is not more prominent work done on the relationship between black consumers, criminality, and retail. general assumptions are made concerning theft when Black bodies enter stores, not because Black people generally steal (there is no research to support that), but because Black people are assumed criminal (there is research to support that). this plays out in particular ways concerning my creative job inside stores, and will be something i need to work out without quitting and/or resorting to waka flaka flame.

when i style, or create a look, or come up with a concept, im usually envisioning a Black woman (I work mainly with women’s fashion). what colors, styles, cuts, textures would look good on my sister, friends, mom, aunts, and cousins. further, what looks go with the world i surround myself with on a daily basis. what could i create that would repeatedly flow down my tumblr dashboard? that creates a particular conflict between my coworkers and myself. though i was working at a store where black people shop (not just steal from), my visions of Blackness were deemed irrelevant or suspect, and no amount of queer boy fashion stereotype (in my short shorts) could save me from that shadow. so my sense of fashion, taste, and style was in question (and rest assured it wasn’t because I don’t have style, come see ‘bout me!).

i don’t want this post to become a list of grievances with the job/company i just said bye to. i tendered my resignation to free myself from that burden. just know that after some tortuous days of catty white queer hipster boys, i seized my chance to make them a bit uncomfortable. it was late at night and we were changing around the store for the new spring season. i was in my zone choosing outfits for a display of nine mannequins, lost in the sauce of florals and pastels, someone asked me if i wanted to choose the music for the hour. i looked around as all the boys were watching me, walked up to the computer and thought about erykah or maybe d’angelo, but then i said to myself, i said, “self, lets get real ‘Black’ in here.” i put on waka flaka flame Pandora and turned it up. what i thought would be an interesting moment of awkwardness became a sad show of minstrelsy. two of the white boys knew every word, to every song and censored themselves from the word “nigga” but in a way that let me know, if i wasn’t there, they’d lean into that shit real good.

a few more days of contentious attitudes, and one particular email warning the sales staff to beware of the “trannies.” apparently “trannies” steal, and “trannies” are “African-American males with rough looking faces wearing girls clothes.” i tendered my resignation and here i sit, free to write and search for another job where i will have to keep my Nat Turner ambitions at bay. which doesn’t mean im not keeping them at bay right now.

[i] I paused before adding “police brutality” to this list. Blackness as criminal and criminal as Blackness structures the logic of U.S. policing; that said, the police structure is a day-to-day institution that reimagines, reinvents, and ultimately reinforces the aforementioned statement on the other side of the semicolon. The coupling of Black suffering and police violence is so naturalized that the conditions of possibility (time, space, and attributes) is a gendered race and class calculation when rendering a Black body “victim—” despite the mundaneness of police violence against Black bodies (psyche included). My list was meant to mark those moments deemed “events” in Black suffering, yet my comrades and I pushed back against the rhetoric of “event” and termed them “spectacles,” distractionary moments from the spectacular nature of Black everyday living. My pause comes from a meditation on the mundaneness of police violence and why so few Black bodies get turned in to “victims,” or cause for celebration, protest, and thinking through the institution of policing. 

newmodelminority:

By Aishah Shahidah Simmons, Darnell L. Moore, & Kenyon Farrow

Over and over again as racially-conscious, Black feminist lesbian and gay people, we find ourselves being told to be silent when misogyny and homophobia rears its head in order to be accepted as Black by the larger community. The most recent debacle from Roland Martin’s homophobic tweets during the Super Bowl is one of too many examples:

If a dude at your Super Bowl party is hyped about David Beckham’s H&M        underwear ad, smack the ish out of him! #superbowl

 Who the hell was that New England Patriot they just showed in a head to toe pink suit? Oh, he needs a visit from team #whipdatass

Martin’s comments were reprehensible in any environment, but most especially during the super-macho (and super-hetero) Super Bowl. Using Suzanne Pharr’s analysis that “Homophobia [is] a weapon of sexism”, it’s also apparent that Martin’s issue with Beckham’s bikini briefs, the unmanly sport of soccer, or the fan’s “pink suit,” relies heavily on sexism to reinforce heterosexist definitions of manhood.

We can’t afford to take homophobia lightly.

For so many LGBTQ people, many of whom are Black, this is life and death. When a noted journalist like Martin uses humor to condone violence against men who appear to be gay, it is insensitive, careless, and extremely irresponsible.

Some have even argued that Martin’s fate is a result of the response of misguided people who have given too much power to words. According to Raynard Jackson, writing in response to this debacle for The Washington Post,“words have no intrinsic meaning other than meanings that are internalized by each individual.”

Words are merely words, right? No! They actually shape the climate in which someone’s “ass” may literally be beat and murdered altogether. The next day after Martin’s tweets, a video surfaced of Brandon White, a black gay man who was jumped by multiple men in Atlanta for wearing skinny jeans.  Much like Martin’s tweets, this video shows that someone’s choice of clothing, which others may view as contrary to their gender and abnormal, is a reason to be subject to assault. Our thoughts and the words that we use are reflected through actions. As a result, we need not use words that produce harm, but words that seek to ameliorate violence.

So, where are the “words” of condemnation emanating from the Black progressive establishment regarding Martin’s tweets or the numerous physical attacks on Black LGBT people that happen daily?

The deafening silence from Non-LGBTQ Black Civil Rights organizations and public intellectuals taking a stand against homophobia is unacceptable. It’s as if racism is the main/real issue worthy of being addressed, with sexism/misogyny in a very distant second place, and homophobia a practically non-existent third place on our Black civil rights platform. Why do these organizations and “leaders” continue to act as if they are not accountable to Black people who are LGBTQ? Aren’t we Black, too?

Similarly, why does GLAAD (Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) act is if they are not accountable to LGBTQ people who are Black? As Robert Jones, Jr., author of the Son of Baldwin blog stated, ‎“I think Roland Martin deserved censure and suspension, just like Don Imus deserved being terminated. But where is GLAAD when [white gay writers like] Andrew Sullivan and Dan Savage make their racist statements? I sense a double standard and it REEKS of racism.”

GLAAD’s swift action to demand that CNN fire Martin gives us pause. Interestingly enough, GLAAD didn’t also demand TVOne, a Black-owned network, where Martin hosts a weekly show, to fire him. Clearly, based on GLAAD’s actions, they’re not very concerned about the impact of Martin’s homophobia on Black networks (if they even know the networks exist). In response to Martin’s comments, GLAAD’s websitereiterates, “Our goal is to ensure better coverage that works toward ending anti-LGBT violence.”

If that is GLAAD’s goal, then why aren’t they also holding other outlets where Roland Martin has a platform accountable? Furthermore, Martin recently metwith GLAAD; but none of the Black queer people who first called Martin out over Twitter was invited by GLAAD to join in such a meeting. Why is Martin only accountable to GLAAD?

Cleo Manago, CEO and founder of the Black Men’s Xchange (BMX), had this to say about GLAAD’s demand that Martin be fired from CNN: “…we are still in the process of recovering from many challenges that have resulted from being Black in America. Still, lily-White organizations like GLAAD are not in the position to complain about alleged injustice from Blacks. They clearly are not culturally competent enough to accurately interpret the voices of Black people.”

While Manago might be correct to interrogate GLAAD’s “cultural competency,” he too misses a valuable point.

The fact is: it was Black queer men and women, and not some “lily-white organization,” who were the first to call attention to Martin’s heterosexist words. GLAAD’s response, and CNN’s subsequent move to suspend Martin, followed the swift rebuke of Twitter personalities@kenyonfarrow, @Anti_Intellect, @TheFireNextTime.

The fact is: it was Black brothers and sisters who called out a Black brother. Period.

Given the facts, let’s assume that the Black men and women who rightly pointed out Martin’s violent words were indeed “culturally competent enough” to interpret Roland’s words as sexist and homophobic (because they were), where will Manago and others now point their fingers?

Photo source: GayLiberation.Net via Google Images

The claim that somehow we should ignore heterosexist remarks, particularly those spewed by other Black folk, because of the force of racism, is dangerously limited. There are no battles (i.e. calling out and resisting racism OR calling out and resisting homophobia) to choose in this regard. There is butone battle and that is our sustained resistance to oppression when and wherever it rears its head.

The idea that we should forego calling Martin out for his heterosexism because he is Black is just as myopic as thinking that we should not call out GLAAD for the lack of response to racism within and without the queer community. Both are wrong and require our resistance.

We, as individuals and organizations in the Black community, should embrace a vision of our community that doesn’t try to sacrifice any of us for the so-called progress of the majority, whether about gender/sexuality, economic status, or other complexities of Black life.  Then we might begin to make some headway with addressing the ways that multiple forms of oppression impact so many of us.

No one is free while others are oppressed.

negrosunshine:

 when i hear critiques of “gay is the new black,” sometimes i feel the critique actually misses the frightening truth of the statement.

“gay is the new black,” imagines a celebratory ending to black struggle, while also erasing the peculiar position of being black and “gay” in this society. it eliminates the possibility of intersectional analysis proffering a strange ‘post-blackness,’ requiring Black queers to catch up and identify with the 21st century civil rights struggle, no longer fought by Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, and such, but now by Ellen, Lady Gaga (on our behalf), the cast of Modern Family, and the HRC.

that said, “gay is the new black” alarms me in a more terrifying way. it is the plain evidence that Black remains the baseline indicator of social oppression, ostracization, marginalization, exploitation, and discrimination. it is the social, historical, and theoretical standard to hold one’s social position against. “gay is the new black” openly means, i’m being treated like im black! the fact that it is said with such ease reveals the plain truth of black “inferiority.” and the fact that it is missed in so many critiques, further reveals the intricacies of anti-blackness, and the need for further analysis. 

(via femmenoire)

Why I became a pacifist
and then
How I became a warrior again:

Because nothing I could do or say
turned out okay
I figured I should just sit
still and chill
except to maybe mumble
“Baby, Baby:
Stop!”
AND
Because turning that other cheek
        holding my tongue
        refusing to retaliate when the deal
        got ugly
And because not throwing whoever calls me bitch 
        out the goddamn window
And because swallowing my pride
         saying I’m sorry when whoever don’t like
         one single thing
         about me and don’t never take a break from
         counting up the 65,899 ways I talk wrong
         I act wrong
And because sitting on my fist
         neglecting to enumerate every incoherent
         rigid/raggedy-ass/disrespectful/killer cold
         and self-infatuated crime against love
         committed by some loudmouth don’t know
         nothing about it takes 2 to fuck and
         it takes 2 to fuck things up
And because making apologies that nobody give a shit
    about

and because failing to sing my song

finally
finally

          got on my absolute last nerve

I pick up my sword
I lift up my shield
And I stay ready for war
Because now I live ready for a whole lot more

than that 

June Jordan
”Directed by Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jordan”
pp. 477-478