Don't Say I Never Gave You Nuthin'.

The Bad Gay Writes Down 40 (or so...) Questions. Of millions.

Here.

A nice, thick, juicy chunk of musings for the holiday season. Rounda 'bout 40 questions I toyed with at some point or another trying to write a blog that just turned out to be this. Enjoy. -tbg

If a queer theory falls in a forest and an academic isn't around to hear it, does it make a noise? 2. Gay or not--are we even into marriage? (Marriage or not--are we even gay?) 3. Is a civil rights movement a civil rights movement if white men w/money are the chief benefactors and legislative shifters of that movement? 4. How is it possible that we not conspiracy-theorize the emergence of AIDS in the gay community? 5. Is LOGO seriously not going to create programming for anyone other than like, Perez Hilton, Andy Dick and Michelle Williams' second date nights? 6. Why does internalized homophobia sometimes manifest as protecting straight people from our non-straight lives? 7. Everybody knows the NFL (and NBA, and NHL and MLB) are full of gay and bisexual men, right? 8. Do Black pastors realize their music, logistics and leadership are often led by homos, closeted and otherwise—in nearly every church every where? 9. Do school children still giggle when they hear “two moms” or “two dads”? 10. Do teachers still giggle with them? 11. Is it really tolerance when we excuse people's discomfort with our sexuality so long as its done civilly? 12. Are the estimated 8.8 million of us in America (I'ma say 10, personally. Heads be lyin'.) enough to shift the economic, family and education base of this country? 13. Is queerness synonymous with anything concretely homosexual? 14. If we have all these names, words, terms, preferences, shouldn't we be more patient with people "getting it"? 15. Has vanity replaced depression as a coverall in the queer battle of self-acceptance vs. self-hate? 16. Did you also feel gay-pangs early on, even tiny little ones? 17. Don't you hate reading Leviticus? 18. Why do I wince when I see lesbians who look like lesbians when lesbians were totally uncool? (Is that internalized homophobia or assholishness?) 19. Anyone else feel slighted by not coming out in/before college? (So. Much. Action. Poof. Gone.) 20. Why is it totally appropriate to support sex-workers rights and dignity but totally inappropriate to go to the strip club? 21. Do you know anyone who has ever used a dental dam? 22. Why are we so afraid of studs who have sex with cis-men as if that is any less queer/open/bi/real than femmes having sex with men? 23. If enough women lay around and daydream about a communal living land/space at once, it'll emerge on its own, right? 24. Why is Brooklyn understood to be the center of queer black culture while the south is actually serving as the center of lgbtq black homes/families? 25. Why are we scared of each other's nasty-delicious kinks? 26. Why are we pretending bois are the only ones with rules around their body and sex or that femmes are the only ones with trauma around their bodies? 27. Why don't we own more property? 28. How did the Oakland/Bklyn connection emerge? 29. Why do people think it's funny for studs to dress up like femmes? 30. Why do people hate so hard on mothers who start dating women?  31. Why aren't queers more honest about the way so many are leading double lives? 32. Did we all have the pre-out, adolescent desire to be captured by a beautiful, self-assured lesbian (or insert corresponding self-projection here)? Just me? 33. Why do we only recognize effeminate Black gay male performance as performance? 34. Does the 'queer' label allow folks to emotionally detach from the depth and narrative of LGBT history? 35. Why is it weird to use condoms on a strap...how how how did micro-judgement make it into this situation? 36. Are there any awesome sex parties anymore? (Were there ever any?) 37. Do we recognize the ways in which we reaffirm and empower the various systems that we critique on a regular basis? 38. Does every homo know at least a dozen people who would be homo but just will-not-give-in? No? Just me? 39. In our prayers to whoever/however are we thankful for who we are or apologetic and abashed for how we've chosen? 40. What are we not telling one another? Admitting to one another? Forgiving in one another?

 & youalreadyknow I want answers to one and all.

@thebadgay ← le twitter

How my past as a Black woman informs my black male feminist perspective today

[A generous repost from blackademic.com] 

Although I am not new to masculinity, I am new to being a black man.

I am new to the experience of male privilege and its consequence of authority, as well as the disprivilege of race that marks my black male body as innately suspect. It is the delicate balance between power and criminal that has allowed me to see the machinations of misogyny in an entirely different light. Whereas black cisgender men have generally approached feminist discourse through the academic texts and writings of black women, for me, it is my lived experience as a black female that has shaped the ways in which I embrace and practice black feminism.

Prior to physical transition, I wasn’t naive to the ways in which certain forms of black masculinity contribute to the oppression of women. I grew up in a family of single black women who loved, really loved, black men even though it was their husbands, boyfriends and sometimes brothers who were the perpetrators of emotional and physical abuse.

I watched my mother, my beautiful mother, struggle with the demons of mental illness and drug use. Her sickness, it seemed, gave the men in the neighborhood free range to take advantage of her financially and sexually. Though I’ve never met him to form an opinion, my aunt still declares it was my absent father who literally drove my mother to madness.

I was witness to the sadness my grandmother felt as all three of her sons followed in their father’s alcoholic footsteps. She still smiled through all of the pain but I saw the sadness when my uncle, her child, routinely threatened her in the same ways as did the abusive husband she left years before.

I learned to resent black men.

As I grew and my body changed, so did my interactions with males that I encountered. I suffered the threat of sexual violence as my female body consistently invited unsolicited advances from (black) men despite my masculine presentation.

I became more aware of the ads, music, and propaganda that told me that I was ugly, unattractive, and good enough only as a sexual object for black men. Even though intro courses to race and women’s studies in college began to offer me the critical tools to somewhat reject these images, I still felt shame as it was impossible to escape the reality that sexist images of black women suffocated me.

When I began to date women, I repeatedly encountered the aggressive homophobe who thought their magical black dicks could turn me “straight.” In some instances, I would rebuff their advances with jokes though I was well aware of the possibility of danger in doing so.

I learned to fear black men.

Although my relationship with black men and masculinity was fraught, I still desired to be one; I knew that gender transition would be a necessary part of my life’s journey.

For some transmen, their female past conjures up memories of pain and humiliation, and rightfully so. These feelings are not absent from my journey but I’ve come to embrace my past as a beneficial asset to my practice of a progressive black masculinity.

Primarily, I am very careful with my interactions with women in order to not be perceived as a physical threat. I am always thoughtful of my newfound “bulk” due to hormones and the ways in which my masculine body moves and occupies space. While walking on the streets, I maintain my distance from women. I avoid eye contact unless we are engaging in mutual conversation and even then, I do not stare. The memory of harassment as a woman doesn’t allow me to.

In professional situations, I am always aware of my male privilege. I do not hog the intellectual space and make it a point to deeply value the input of my female collaborators. My goal is not to be the dominant voice of reason but to attempt to exist as an equal colleague. Furthermore, in my work I find it very important to centralize the experiences of women to supplement the work that they are doing for themselves.

Although I identify as a heterosexual male, in my relationship with my partner I strive to avoid replicating the harmful gendered dynamics that are traditionally associated with heterosexuality. I make it a point to share my feelings and evaluate my shortcomings. I am not perfect and sometimes I slip but the emphasis I’ve placed on expressing my feelings has provided a deviation from conventional notions of black masculinity. This gesture does not negate my manhood; rather it permits me to love and perform gender in a much healthier way.

Additionally, I do not use my manhood as an excuse to cheat, to view my partner as another sexual conquest, or to marginalize her feelings.

In my brief experience of living as a black male, I’ve learned that it is difficult to challenge misogyny in male dominated spaces. I have found myself in a number of uncomfortable situations with men who openly insult and humiliate women and I feel silenced. Not because of the fear of being outed as trans but I fear being perceived as a failed version of black masculinity–a fear that I believe imprisons all black men–adding to the reproduction of a violent patriarchal society.

I am not a perfect man. I am not immune to the assumptions that are expected of me and sometimes, I act them out. However, my transition journey has allowed me to begin the process of forgiving my absent father, my alcoholic uncle, and the cat-calling homophobe on the corner.

Because black feminism allows me to love myself, I have learned to love black men.

Dr. Ziegler is an Oakland based award winning artist, writer, public speaker and the first person to hold the Ph.D of African American Studies from Northwestern University.

Breaking Down the Boi - A reflection of our time at HBGC's Youth Empowerment Conference

In our ongoing effort to connect our community and share what we're up to, here's a recap of the Hispanic Black Gay Coalition of Boston's annual Youth Empowerment Conference.

Hispanic Black Gay Coalition (HBGC) is one of few non-profit organizations in Boston dedicated to the unique and complex needs of the Black, Hispanic and  Latin@ LGBTQ community. Founded in 2009, we work to inspire and empower Latin@, Hispanic and Black LGBTQ identified individuals to improve their livelihood through activism, education, community outreach, and counseling. 

@HBGCBOSTON (fb/twitter)

Our Workshop:

Using interactive discussions, images, and the collective genius of the room, members of bklyn boihood will facilitate a candid, engaging reflection on what it means to be a young boi of color today. Focusing on topics like self-care, self-reflection, masculine privilege, ageism, and stereotyping, we'll create a space of exploring what it
means for bois to embrace who we are with integrity.

Breaking Down the Boi on Prezi 

Recap:

As we saw it, our workshop ‘Breaking Down the Boi’ was well received by participants. They were enthused and packed with questions and comments on the topics we chose of self-responsibility, self-care and ageism. We were equally eager to discuss the subjects we found to be some of the most important to that particular audience. We regret not having enough time to divulge into each topic as acutely as we hoped.    

The rest of the conference was amazing. Janet Mock, who we're eternal fans of, was the keynote and showed us so much support and love. The participants, organizers and members of the QPOC community in Boston is real.

We'd really like to thank HBGC for planning this amazing conference, we were so happy to have the opportunity to be apart of. The many different workshops were those of inspiring conversations and immense means to learn. The connections made were ones of which we can grow and build from. Looking forward to being enlightened once again at next years HBGC Youth Empowerment Conference!  -jckee 

the bois with Janet Mock.

Workshop developed by: Mo

Prezi by: Jckee

Presenters: Sebas', Ryann & Jckee. 

The Aggressive (A call for help.)

We debated whether or not to post this.  There is no way to grow but through honesty. Please discuss, reply, go off, share, etc. We will be hosting a discussion series starting in November to create a safe space for our community to discuss+process+share+grow.      Stay tuned for details. <3, the bois

Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse, physical/partner violence.

--

The Aggressive

(A call for help.)

I need someone to explain to me why the hell I shouldn't beat the shit out of a man* who has been abusing his partner, my dear friend, for months—first verbally and emotionally and then ultimately physically. We're not talking a stay-in-my-lane skirmish (whatever the fuck that is). No, I mean horrific. When I say 'physically' I mean she needed an ambulance but it didn't come because he did not want to face the walls of a cell even though she asked for medical help, needed it. To him it would've looked bad. To her, it already looked bad. It looked worse. It looked expected. It looked terrifying.

 Physical like Worldstar or whatever image graveyard excites you,

like celebrity since its come to that--

like you would give a shit too if you saw it

and the person is broken.

She is broken and concussed and disgusted and sad and ashamed and feeling weakness and taking ownership and calling it a fight when we know—we know a fight would've resulted in a different sort of situation. One that left a trail of at minimum two sets of jaw-knots and uncontrollable tears and scars and near black outs and not this story that sounds like everything we don't imagine about people who stand next to us everyday. What they can become. What they sound like and swing like and hate like and how they can be weakened by their own demons or whatever hurdles my friend keeps repeating like some sort of penance or justification for why it is okay that she is in hiding and he is at lunch. 

I need someone to explain to me why it is acceptable that a man be walking down the streets I work hard to honor with safety and honesty without a second thought of accountability. So many women in my life have been marred by the cowardice of domestic abuse--the guilt of it, the silence of it, the way it forces you to pretend your options are options or that distance heals wounds. And now, my friend. A piece of her is gone too. My feelings of community empowerment and love have been rusted by my inability to cap this valve of angry steam. I'm being honest here. Violent steam. I'm being asked, for the sake of propriety and due process or comfy amnesia, to pretend as if he's doing nothing and has done nothing when I have witnessed him drag her through the horrific journey of losing herself and making her infinitely terrified to return.

Don't give me no bullshit about violence is not the answer. I know it's not the fucking answer, I'm not: a) an idiot. b) looking to provide an answer. I'm looking to remove his ability to feel like nothing happens when you assault someone else. Nowhere is that happening. The legal system, if anything, creates the type of stress and mind-numbing rage that feeds the fists that crack open lips on bad days. I'm being honest about a need that exists in me to hold this man directly, tangibly accountable. There are people (I really want to call them the “queer police” but I know that's inflammatory) who are perched waiting for my misstep in any direction about sex, about gender, about background, ability, circumstance, sexual decision. There are people willing to dissect the meaning of thisandthat term and the depth of this sorry world's misogyny but have yet to help me understand where the line is. Where their line is. What they would do.

I'm not in a vacuum. I am acutely aware of the problematic implications of my feelings. Aside from being familiar with the ways positive masculine influences have protected my physical person it also is a no-brainer. Retribution feels obvious to my masculinity. Familiar even. Whether internalized or externally formed there is no experience of masculinity that omits violence and/or violence-as-punishment. I am conscious of the ways those principles or any principles that feed violence don't serve me. I'm also conscious of the world I live in. And in the world I live in my friend is scarred in every way imaginable, embarrassed and not sleeping and he is at dinner.

He is laughing with friends and telling people impossibly neutral versions of what happened, following classic patterns of abuse—sharing a faultless you-weren't-there-don't-judge scenario with whoever in hopes of gaining loyalty to the version that does not include him straddling over my friend's head and pounding her temples until a burst of white light knocked a piece of memory away. And it's working. Why are these men allowed to walk around like they are not breaking bodies and minds and spirits? How did he stop his attack only long enough to steal her last money and dust of bits of broken possessions he left shattered on the floor?

Am I out to bust asses of all abusive men? Honestly, I'd kinda love to. But life gives us people and an infinite heart with which to love them and I love my friend. I want her to heal. I also want him to feel a direct reflection of what he has done and I want him to think twice the next time he does it. (I'm too jaded to believe there won't be a next time.) You don't draw blood from a person you love. You don't beat them into silence and fear. Someone come give me some clarity.

Explain to me how or why I am to engage in the type of compassion that allows him to be in my community—sorry-less as he wants to be, arrogant as he gets to be. Whatever we're doing now is not doing nearly enough to hold the perpetrators of these crimes against our friends, parents, siblings and selves accountable. My friend will jump from loud noises, cower from arguments, fight off depression and feelings of worthlessness for who knows how long. Ultimately she is burdened with the victim's task of carrying on—and he is snuggling into someone else's bed beginning another version of the same cycle that will most certainly end in his will and her harm.

I need a philosophy/perspective that guides me into a place of transformation over violence.

Put me on, y'all.

-Mo

mwillis@bklynboihood.com

*transman of color. does that impact your feedback/feelings/opinions? 

Todd Akin's Ill-Informed Commentary

[Originally published here.]

A Response from The Ignant Intellectual

The intersection of power, privilege, and ignorance can be a perilous epicenter. As it stands, privilege, when abused and not perpetually checked, can develop into an albatross of mental stagnation and ignorance. When that level of encumbrance meets power, it’s a guaranteed cataclysm. An example of such a misfortune is what the world saw last weekend during the taping of The Jaco Report on FOX 2.

During an episode of the show, Todd Akin, Missouri Senate Republican Candidate, made a comment that sent every ovary and vagina in America and abroad into an uproar. Since Todd Akin’s ill-informed comment regarding the biology of rape and pregnancy, opinions have been airborne. From well-known female writers like Eve Ensler to lesser-known female writers like…ME! From the moment Akin spewed his male and white privilege across the room, my mind went somewhere. The majority of the responses that I have read position females as survivors and males as privilege-wrought, anti-feminist, imprudent antiquates. I challenge us to view this dyad from a rarely discussed angle. Comments like Akin’s prompt me to wonder if, given the number of under-reported male violations, some of these men are actually rape survivors who choose to project upon females value-laden sentiments from unhealed spaces.

DISCLAIMER: I am not suggesting that Akin, is (or is not) a survivor. But surely not all of these dudes are genuinely assholes, right? Surely not all of the remarks and decisions being made by males in power regarding the female body are just ignorant men using their privilege to make decisions for a female body within which they have no lived experience, right? While that may be part of the argument, let’s dig a little deeper as I find the majority of the responses to comments made by Akin (and others like him) to be pedantic and stop prematurely. In my opinion, someone somewhere in some of these men’s lives told them (verbally or non-verbally) something that sent an overall message that what was happening was not legitimate. In turn, like many survivors, they repeat what they were told…either directly or indirectly in word, action, or deed. Silencing is exceptionally loud.

The moment someone is born, a certain sociological crime is committed. Actually, it is committed every moment of every day, but its intensity increases every time a baby enters the world. The crime is the propagation of a widely accepted untruth: that we are merely ‘genders on legs’. Culturally, we have a tendency to ‘genderize’, essentially, every part of life. From which restroom we use to what color clothes babies wear to even whom is more often raped and/or molested! Little of our socialization transpires exclusive of our birth-assigned sex and our socially-assigned gender. (Because the topic of sex versus gender is not the purpose of this article, I won’t devote much energy to that, except to say that sex is biologically-assigned and gender is socially-constructed).

Within the first few seconds of meeting someone, we have already gendered them according to the sex we perceive them to be, which means that we have categorized them based on our existing concepts of what a girl and a boy should be, do, and have endured. Dude, what is your point? Glad you asked! Not only have we been self-relegated to simply ‘walking genders’, so much of our existence, including non-consentual sex, is determined, quantified, and stratified by gender. Not only are they highly racialized, rape statistics are also disproportionately gendered, both academically and in our everyday mental processes. When we hear the words ‘rape’ or ‘molestation’, because of conditioning, we automatically think ‘female’ or ‘girl’. So much so that when a male suggests that he has been sexually violated, his entire manhood is called into question even sometimes to the point of having his sexuality interrogated.

Rape statistics are overwhelmingly reported as (female) rape, whereas rape of males is generally documented as prison rape or as a weapon of terror in warfare. In fact, the overall notion of violence has grown to become a rather masculine term. So it makes sense that when males, such as Akin, speak on the topic of sexual violations, we rarely even think that they could, indeed, be speaking from a place of personal experience and that, because of the social stigma around men and rape, these experiences may be being presented as projection and/or displacement. However, if a woman had made a comment like Akin’s, after the initial shock, our response and subsequent analyses of her statement would have been completely different. We would have probably been less likely to demonize and more likely to victimize her—thus sympathize with her. Even demonization and victimization are gendered, but that’s a whole nother talk show. My point is that, globally, we seldom mentally/socially position men as sexual abuse survivors— unless of course, we are trying to figure out why one of them is gay!

We primarily view them as perpetrators and because we so readily genderize sexual abuse, our responses often fall short. While I am not saying that Akin is a survivor of sexual abuse, I postulate that this incessant gendering has a direct effect on conditioning and conditioning is often so unyielding in our psyches, that it might as well be proven fact. Admittedly, Akin and countless other powerful men could be just that reckless, but I argue that more men in power than have admitted, have been violated sexually but because of how male sexual violence is societally positioned, their spiritual and social residual energies manifest in very peculiar ways. And when this residual energy resides within the intersection of power, privilege, and ignorance, there is no telling how it will reveal itself. We must challenge ourselves to think beyond what we see.

Seldom are people just assholes for asshole sake. Aside from male privilege, many of the opinions and statements made by our men are really the unhealed, hurting, and silenced little boys trapped inside of them needing to be heard. Few things are random and we all carry trauma. Ironically, despite all of the trauma, pain, and unhealed energy in the world, we respond to each other as if we are the most healed and polished people walking. Remember, we don’t see things are THEY are, we see them as WE are. 

Light & Love,

The Ignant Intellectual

The Ignant Intellectual is a New Orleans-reared writer, poet, and spoken word artist who has been writing before completely mastering the English language. From the accent to that je ne sais quoi that folk have been trying to put words to for far too long, to the curious name, The Ignant Intellectual is indeed a 'strange fruit'. I.I.'s goal in writing and performing is to deconstruct the many unconscious social constructions that guide our mental processes and ultimately our actions, to influence youth and elders to re-imagine what is, pushing/pulling the collective to our full potential. The Ignant Intellectual's vibrant, often humorous, and always though-provoking writings and performances convey that, "Life really is good enough to be true." And so it is.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/ignantintellectual

Twitter: @ignantintellect

Blog: ignantintellectual.tumblr.com

Radio Show: queer2thet.blogspot.com

Email: ignantintellectual@gmail.com