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Separate and not equal: Why Black Gay Pride hurts me
In a society that has historically valued white above all other human colors, we the black people need our own advocates and forums of recognition, whether they be in the form of individuals, organizations, award ceremonies, TV, or movies. As a black man, I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to always like it.
The “black” make-up movement I love least right now is one currently playing out from sea to shining sea (in Atlanta, Los Angeles, and Philadelphia, among other U.S. cities) and in London: Black Gay Pride. Again, as a black man, I get it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Black Gay Pride is a positive celebration, but it’s also a sobering reminder that, in many ways, the LGBTQ community is no more accepting than the straight community. It’s a world where activists preach diversity and acceptance, but one in which white, masculine, and young are seen as superior to any of the alternatives.
Black Gay Pride serves as a reality check that I might never be just a gay man or just a black man. For now and for the foreseeable future, I’ll always be a “gay black man.” I’ll have to wear at least one “X” everywhere, whether I am in an exclusively black crowd or an exclusively gay one, signifying that I don’t completely belong to either.