Dear Brothers,
For the past three years, the #BlackLivesMatter movement has captivated the United States of America’s political conscience. Building upon the unfinished work of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, #BlackLivesMatter has justly highlighted the underlying specter of institutionalized and structural racism in our nation — forcing Americans to confront the disproportionate impact it has upon black and brown men. The untimely fates of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Sean Bell, Eric Garner, Charm City’s own Freddie Gray, and countless other victims of police brutality, remind us that lives of color have never, and will never matter, until oppressive systems of white supremacy are dismantled.
However, events of recent days have made it clear that a conspicuously hetero-normative list of priorities drives the focus of the work carried out by many organizations dedicated to the liberation of marginalized communities.
My hope is that this letter initiates a meaningful conversation, one that is long overdue; ultimately leading to concerted action. As a gay man of color, I am under no illusion that the ongoing movement for black and brown liberation and the LGBT rights movement are one and the same struggle. However, this does not negate the fact that both contingents are human rights movements, sharing high degrees of intersectionality (LGBT persons of color are faced with disproportionate risks of poverty when compared to their heterosexual counterparts) with one another. Although we speak different languages, empirically and sexually, we share a great deal in common.
On June 12, a lone shooter entered Pulse nightclub — a renowned gay club in Orlando, Florida, and opened fire on patrons with a semi-automatic rifle, slaying 49 people and injuring 53 other individuals. The Orlando massacre is the latest in a seemingly endless series of mass shootings plaguing the country.
The particularly heinous nature of this crime was motivated by homophobic animus. Pulse was not just any nightclub, it was a gay club, where lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered men and women gathered to share their joys and hopes, sorrows and dreams, in a venue that served as a refuge from a pervasively intolerant society. Although the media has attempted to shift the nature of the Orlando massacre as being one externally motivated by “terrorist” sentiments, the truth is, the perpetrator of this hate crime was steeped and reared in the United States of America. Old-fashioned, biblically-justified, American homophobia was the primary culprit here, not the allure of the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria.
The silence by certain organizations in the wake of the tragedy spoke volumes — stating non-verbally that, #BlackLivesMatter, but, #LGBTLivesOfColorAreWorthless.
Despite the #BlackLivesMatter movement being founded by three lesbians, LGBT stories are notably absent in protests, gatherings, and other venues of activism. With the exceptions of Sandra Bland and Renisha McBride, this powerful social organism, created to educate minds and hearts about the persistent reality of institutionalized racism, has morphed into an overwhelmingly heterosexual, male cause. This same trend rings true for a plethora of other black and brown advocacy organizations focused on community empowerment and social change.
Such dynamics run contrary to the perspective of Huey P. Newton (one of the founding members of the Black Panther Party) on the relationship between the LGBT rights movement and black and brown liberation. Speaking in an extensive speech on the matter, given in 1970, Newton stated, “Whatever your personal opinions and your insecurities about homosexuality and the various liberation movements among homosexuals…we should try to unite with them in a revolutionary fashion.” He bluntly continues:
“I say ‘whatever your insecurities are’ because as we very well know, sometimes our first instinct is to want to hit a homosexual in the mouth…We want to hit a homosexual in the mouth because we are afraid that we might be homosexual…We must gain security in ourselves and therefore have respect and feelings for all oppressed people…We have not said much about the homosexual at all, but we must relate to the homosexual movement because it is a real thing. And I know through reading, and through my life experience and observations that homosexuals are not given freedom and liberty by anyone in the society. They might be the most oppressed people in the society.
The revolutionary leader candidly admitted that the real barrier is not necessarily homosexuality (he openly expressed no aversion to lesbianism) or transgenderism by themselves, but, rather, the perceived threat of these sexual and gender-based experiences to traditional concepts of masculinity. However, Newton concluded his remarks by asserting that, “…there is nothing to say that a homosexual cannot also be a revolutionary…Quite the contrary, maybe a homosexual could be the most revolutionary.” He ultimately recommended a coalition be formed between the Black Panther Party, the Women’s Liberation Movement, and the Gay Rights Movement.
Needless to say, these coalitions have never substantially coalesced.
Undoubtedly, the same pervasive fear of emasculation, associated with forging bonds with LGBT people, exists today. As a consequence, LGBT lives of color remain invisible. The pervasive influence of religion plays a fundamental role in this equation. The church has served as an oppressive force against LGBT people of color for generations. Literal interpretations of scripture lead to homosexuality being understood within Christianity as a deviant abomination before God — undermining the institution of heterosexual marriage. Given the fundamental role of the church in communities of color, this often creates a barrier, preventing discussion of the issue in many households; as it is viewed as a sinful perversion rather than a biologically intrinsic characteristic.
Christian bigotry does not have a monopoly on dogmatically-driven homophobia and transphobia. In the past several decades, peoples of the African diaspora have nobly undertaken a quest to become reacquainted with traditional forms of African spirituality practiced on the continent before Christianity was imposed by European missionaries. However, these spiritual pathways often end up being as virulently hostile to discussing homosexuality and transgenderism as many Abrahamic religions are. How edifying or unifying are Kemetic principles for our communities if they merely reiterate the same condemnations LGBT persons of color have encountered throughout their whole lives in churches? Emphasizing the balanced principles of “M’aat,” in a cosmic argument favoring “the family” (the heterosexual family), at the expense of LGBT black and brown lives, preserves the heteronormativity inhibiting communities of color from fully embracing and comprehending the realities experienced by their lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender daughters, sons, siblings co-workers, pastors, and friends.
Statistically, these disturbing trends threaten not only LGBT lives, but the longevity of our communities as a whole. According to a report on Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, And HIV – Affected Hate Violence in 2015 released by the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs, LGBT persons of color are overwhelmingly affected by hate crimes of violence. People of color comprise 62% of hate-related homicides among LGBT citizens. (To further illustrate this point, a majority of the victims in the Orlando massacre were Latinx) A further 67% of these homicides are of transgender or gender non-conforming persons. Over half of the survivors of LGBT related hate violence are people of color — 60%. Of these survivors, 28% are Latinx, 21% are African American, 3% are multiracial, 3% are Asian/Pacific Islander, 2% are Native American, and a further 2% are Middle Eastern. As a whole, LGBT people of color are twice as likely to experience physical violence resulting from their sexual orientation or gender identity when compared to their white counterparts.
The statistics for transgender women of color are the most alarming. Transgender women of color have a catastrophically high rate of homicide due to “transmisogyny” — a combination of transphobia and the traditional denigration of women cultivated by society. Faced with uniquely stark odds, transgender women of color endure elevated rates of poverty, employment uncertainty, and prolonged homelessness. It is estimated that 34% of female transgender homicidal victims were engaged in survival sex work at the time of their deaths.
We do not seek the relinquishing of your masculinity in pursuing more inclusive and objective conversations on the reality of the plight of LGBT lives of color. Nor do we seek to covertly infringe upon or change your sexual orientations. We recognize that in the realms of love, personal interests, and leisure our lives can stand in contrast to one another. Yet, in the movement for black and brown liberation, our fates remain eternally intertwined; indeed, the fate of one is the fate of all. This cannot be a solely male, heterosexual movement, perpetuating the privilege inherent to straight men, but rather one that encompasses all variants of institutionalized marginalization.
Today, as we commemorate the forty-ninth anniversary of the hallowed Stonewall Uprising, let us endeavor to learn our diverging languages of experience to realize our mutually shared goals of transformation and transcendence in the face of systemic oppression. May we overcome stereotypes to end the silence of fear, for silence is tantamount to death.
With Love and Pride,
Phillip W. Clark
Expressions: Liberated 