The Wayward Scholar

When you go shopping at the mall with your significant other and ya’ll are holding hands and having a good time, have you ever noticed all the eyes of other shoppers trained on you? Did you see the deep frowns, the double takes, side glances of disgust or the small groups of people pointing and giggling at you? Have you ever noticed how physically uncomfortable men become when you walk by or how quickly you can ruin a woman’s day? Do you ever get the obnoxious hollering about how cute of a couple you are or being stopped by a “well-intentioned” white woman curious about how tragic and difficult your life must be?

I expected that when I sat down to start writing this article that I would have something incredibly insightful to discuss. Instead I’m struggling to find the right words to express my point on this complex topic. I think it goes without saying that everyone who is reading this article is already at least acutely aware that being black and gay in a committed relationship with a white man is a red flag for drama. I admit that I am guilty of teasing myself as well as others on the oppressions rooted within our intersectional identities. I tease about how as a Black man, whom is also queer and also in a committed relationship with a white man is a recipe for struggle.

I don’t need to look far to figure out what questions I want to explore and briefly discuss in this article. In reality I receive a frequent barrage of questioning from peers or other strangers inquiring about my social positioning.

“What is it like to be black? What’s it like to be a black man? What’s it like being in an interracial relationship? What experiences do you have with your intersections of being black AND gay?” When strangers ask me these questions I attempt to overlook the rudeness and privilege in asking those questions and try to positively reflect upon myself and life experiences. I would imagine that being self-reflective and introspective can be challenging for most of us. It’s difficult to pinpoint and process our own limitations or flaws and even reflect accurately on our interests and the characteristics that make us all special. Speaking from experience when someone asks me to describe myself I often end up stumped.

I particularly struggle to answer any inquiries about what is it like to be me? What’s it like to exist in my shoes, in my skin and what one of kind experiences are birthed from those pre-requisites. Oppressed identities, marginalized status and struggle or intense conflict seem to be pre-requisites for a great story. But I disagree and would argue what makes a great, realistic story is irony.

Now in truth I cannot speak to my blackness without also speaking to my queerness nor could I discuss my queerness without also discussing my blackness. Despite popular belief each of these “politically correct” identities exist simultaneously within me every day. All of my experiences in my life are personal anecdotal experiences of a black, gay man. It is ironic that own a couple of pride shirts; pride for my blackness and pride for being gay. I noticed that I am only comfortable wearing my shirts that celebrate my blackness out in public more so than the others. This is because of the divisive nature that most communities have regarding LGBTQA people in which I can wear my shirts on blackness and have a community of allies; of black brothas and sistas to stand in solidarity with me if I face hostility from others. This is not true if I were to rock my Rainbow Pride; if my body were in danger it may in fact be at the hands of those same “brothas” and “sistas” who were once walking beside me.

Our community is often viewed as being more homophobic than any other community I disagree with this, I am suspicious that this concept is merely rooted in the usual narratives meant to illustrate black and brown people as being inherently more savage, brutal and lacking compassion than any other person. However, there is truth that despite our own oppressions we still seek to destroy others facing similar persecution. How can we say that we want to stand up and protect one another and love each other for each of our own unique blackness but then reject blackness that you don’t like? Homophobia is anti-blackness and you cannot be pro-black when your ideals and values are anti-black. Being pro black and homophobic are two flavors that simply do not mix.

It is ironic that despite the fact the many of our greatest leaders, writers, academics, revolutionaries and trail blazers of our movements were queer people of color. This includes Black Lives Matter. It is ironic that many folks in our community embrace homophobia and claim pro-blackery when homophobia is the rejection of femininity as well as homosexuality; in which pertains strongest to rejection or objectification of our black women who carry our movements on their shoulders and fight for our freedoms and protect our bodies. The situation becomes largely more complex when we factor in how much some black men fetishize white women over black women. Choosing to date someone cross-culturally is not always indicative of internalized racism, prejudice or as symptomatic of being brain-washed on the standards of beauty and attractiveness.

Being in a relationship with a white man particularly can be seen as paradoxical to pro-blackness as well. Due to my relationship, my blackness and my loyalties are largely called into question. It’s a challenge to exist within Black spaces and needing to provide evidence of how I assist in challenging and attempting to dismantle the white power structure when I have openly embraced a white man into my life on a truly intimate level. Interracial sexuality threatens white masculinity and white privilege by being representative as a loss of control and a reduction of power within the system. Race is a construct only to establish racial dominance and only when we reject whiteness and we reject racial hierarchy do we finally find equality and equity.

Me as a black man and him as a white man, coexisting and cohabiting together in peace and love is precisely the point. We should be striving towards the standard of embracing each other for all of our differences. Being able to stand side by side holding hands and embracing one another is an incredibly powerful way of breaking down barriers and deconstructing supremacist institutions. There is a reason white supremacy fear interracial relationships and integration, aside from irrational arguments of blackness and savagery.

Being Black and loving white men; means I am rejected by African-American, Black and Brown people because I am a gay man. My queerness is perceived as something to fear and to despise because it threatens black masculinity, exposes black male fragility and reminds all men of their innate fear of homo-social relationships. His whiteness casts a threat upon black people and confounds others of my position in solidarity. My queerness casts a light on the shadow of the hypocrisy of black love, the stereotypes and ignorance of homosexuality and the complicity in embracing White American Christianity. The irony that Black folk wield one of the greatest weapons White massas used to submit and dispose of black bodies as the means to justify their points and demonize my body is not lost on me. I am illustrated as an abomination, a Judas to both my race and as well as my gender. There must be no room to love myself or other black folk when I love someone who is white and therefore they will not waste their time loving me. I am perceived as willfully surrendering my masculinity and in the process castrating black maleness.

The queer and LGBT community founds its movements and elect’s leaders that deny the historical significance of people of color, that allow racism and sexualized racism to endure. A community that disenfranchises and disparages while simultaneously fetishizing my body.

Let’s place this into a perspective closer to my actual experiences. So, I just recently graduated from undergrad at university with a (unsurprisingly) predominantly white populous. Given this setting at the university I felt more or less restricted in evolving and exploring my blackness and black identity. I was fairly limited in experiencing the wide diversity of black and brown people and contemplating my own existence as a black person independent of the comparisons to those who identify as white. Additionally, my experience as a black body on this campus had sometimes become a target for variable levels of violence which ultimately interfered with my ability to have a truly positive undergraduate experience. Despite my reservations about higher education and graduate school which I’ve discussed (here), I decided that if I were to continue my education ideally I’d try to get a comparative experience. Perhaps attend a university or college with greater diversity or a Historically Black College/University (HBCU).

Quite recently, there was release of a study that collected data through frequent tweeting to determine some of the most anti-black, anti-women, homophobic…etc. colleges across the country. Congratulations to all the HBCU’s that ranked in the top ten for most homophobic colleges/universities. So what is ironic is how I’ve had a less than pleasant experience at one college because of my blackness and so I thoughtfully surmise that perhaps I should attend a university and take part in a community that has historically celebrated my blackness. Only to arrive and find that I am surrounded by hostility and hatred because of my queerness! Then to additionally find that I am ostracized and ‘Othered’ because the man I am with shares the complexion of the enemy. You just have to laugh at the irony. Likely, I would run into a similar issue with attempting to integrate myself into a more LGBT friendly, queer community. I could not attempt to immerse myself in a queer or LGBT community because of racism and sexualized racism in which my body is merely subject to violence and assault or being fetishized.

Does it bother you that I’m free?

What ever happened to Hearts not parts?

Choosing to date someone cross culturally can be a signal for maturity rather than weakness or compliancy. The white supremacist power structure dictates and attempts to make the authority that we cannot co-exist and should not integrate in any means including consensual romantic or sexual relationships. These draconian laws and social amendments and prejudiced mentality is unhealthy and destructive and does nothing to facilitate our progress or liberation. Being together we are transcending the current divisive structures on miscegenation and understanding the full breadth of what intersectionality means. We choose to be above that and because we have made this decision we have managed to find each other.

The point is that he is as much trapped within his white skin as I am in my black skin because forces that we have no control over designed our society that way long ago and created our whiteness and blackness. I own myself and am empowered through myself and I don’t exist for you. I don’t exist to be judged by you, to await your approval for any decisions that I make or don’t, to love, date or fuck or not. I exist for me and only me. I am here to do what I need to do and to live as long as I am meant to live making the most out of all that time. I’m going to live a long happy life with my partner, I’m going to live that life with love for a white man and that doesn’t mean I have any less for a black man. I love myself just fine, but thanks for asking.