Those men, those sons of Audre Lorde, all writers and activists -- Joseph Beam, Essex Hemphill, Marlon Riggs, Craig Harris, Donald Woods, Assoto Saint, and others -- provide so much perspective that it's a shame that in our current HIV/AIDS moment, their legacy is nearly extinct.
My greatest fear is that other young gay men of color will allow themselves to forget that their lives matter. Out of this conviction grows a powerful force -- a combination of logic and emotion -- that has convinced me that not only am I my brother's keeper, but that I am my brother.
However many people we may come out to, there's still a journey of self-affirmation that has to take place; otherwise we remain in constant search of self-acceptance. It took years before I reached a comfort level in my skin. Coming to terms with one's sexuality is a lifelong journey.
I thought that all gay men were interested in becoming women and wearing women's clothes and were flamboyant and destined for hell. I wasn't. So from puberty through my college years, I concealed my feelings and innermost thoughts.
We have spent countless days wrestling with the same question that many other professionals in the health care field have wrestled with: How do we engage black gay men, our community, around the Affordable Care Act? The end result was "How to Make the ACA T'Werk for You."
Last week I tweeted, "Thinking about loneliness as a driver for HIV infection among black gay men." I think that the issue of loneliness is perhaps critical to how we think about HIV prevention and treatment issues.
Every Monday morning, "Alex" and I met for breakfast at our favorite dive in Harvard Square. I would notice bruises and cuts on his face, arms, and legs, but I assumed that the black-and-blue marks were par for the course for a guy who played scrimmage football on the weekends.
There are many things that black gay men who grew up in the church believe, or have experienced, that seem foreign to me... and in many ways, unfathomable. Who does it serve to have a "higher power" that "favors" some people, while leaving the rest of us living in lack and injustice?
Created by Chase Simmons, Dear Dad: Letters From Same-Gender-Loving Sons shares the stories of eight black same-gender-loving men writing open letters to their fathers. I reached out to Simmons to learn more.
The level of investment in HIV services targeting Black gay and bisexual men has never adequately reflected the burden of the epidemic borne by this community. America must do more to show that the lives of Black gay men matter.
Don Lemon dehumanized the African-American community by reducing it to stereotypes, much like the religious right does to the LGBT community. Certainly this is not what Lemon was trying to do, but it was something that he maybe should have realized, given that he is a black gay man.
How do we reconcile the explicit messages we present to black gay men countering homophobia and HIV stigma with the messages we imply through our HIV closets? Where is the integrity in challenging gay men to relinquish their imbedded shame as we demonstrate and justify our own?
Stigma cannot be dislodged unless more HIV-positive people come out of our viral closets and break down the barricades of fear and silence. It is no secret that black gay men bear the highest HIV burden. Our condition demands that we unleash the radical.
Mainstream Prides have themes focused on marriage equality for the larger community, whereas Prides organized by and for LGBTQ people of African descent have focused not only on HIV/AIDS but also unemployment, housing, gang violence, and LGBTQ youth homelessness.
Jolly for you that you have a deep voice, a culturally acceptable walk and all that cisgender privilege, but let's be clear that some of us do not; some of us are feminine, and we switch, and we talk with a lisp, but that does not make us stereotypical.
Some folks understand marriage as the ultimate goal in relationships. However, that view obscures the possibility of other forms of relationships, like multiple-partner commitments, long-term unmarried relationships, sexual relationships, etc.
Though I can remember almost everything about that day, from my mother's facial expression to her subtle physical responses, only recently have I tried to understand her reactions and consider her feelings throughout my coming-out process.
It all started with an awkward conversation with my dad when I was 16. On what I thought was a day like any other, we were passing our neighborhood Walmart when my father began the line of questioning I'd been dreading since before I was positive I knew the answers.
Instead of throwing a condom in a young gay black man's hand, first look at what his world looks like. What are his life circumstances? What societal barriers prevent him from getting the message on HIV? Does he feel that he has any worth?
For one intense and drama-filled month back in April, cameras followed me and eight other gay black men of various ages and career paths as we lived our lives, followed our dreams, and got to know one another. The result is Bricks.