A Brief Introduction
To be Black and Queer, whether southern or not, can be an isolating experience. It is to be an outsider in several communities for which you are technically a part of. It can look like lots of self-betrayal and unfair choices related to identity.
I have mostly centered my experience as a Black woman. This is how I show up in the world, this is what folks can visibly see. What people can see, then, affects how they engage with and treat me.
My queerness has not been at the forefront of my social experiences, although it has impacted them.
It’s like many times in life, like a few years ago during a month-long teaching training I attended. I had connected with another Black woman who seemed like someone I could potentially become friends with. Until the day the subject of LGBT+ issues came up in a discussion group we were in, and she stated: I just don’t believe in that.
A few others at the table nodded in agreement while one other person nervously changed the subject. I became quiet, and after that never spoke to or acknowledged her again.
A privilege, but no less painful, that people look at me and assume I am a safe space for their bigotry.
Then there are the folks, like many of my friends, who don’t have that luxury, whose Queerness sticks out like an uncomfortable sore wherever they go.
It is an existence that disrupts what we think we know about gender and even Blackness, and challenges the binaries we force ourselves and each other into.
This is why I was moved to create a project centering the stories of Black Queer and Trans folks in the south. It was and is not just a project for me, though, it is a love offering that I hope will transcend time.
Note: This project includes the voice of Kiese Laymon performing excerpts from his poem “And Blue” and an excerpt (read by me) of Crystal Wilkinson’s poem “On Being Country” from her poetry collection Perfect Black.