“Remember today. There is strength in our numbers and diversity. Our visibility is a sign of revolt. Bisexual, lesbian, transgender, and gay people are in this together, and together we can and will move the agenda forward. But this will not happen until public recognition of our common issues is made, and a sincere effort to confront biphobia and transphobia is made by the established gay and lesbian leadership in this country.
What is the difficulty in seeing how my struggle as a mixed race bisexual woman of color is intimately related to the bigger struggle for lesbian and gay rights, the rights of people of color, and the rights of all women?
What is the problem?
Remember that we are more powerful than all the hate, ignorance, and violence directed at us. Remember what a profound difference our visibility makes upon the world in which we live. Remember that assimilation is a lie. It is spiritual erasure.
Our visibility is a sign of revolt. We cannot be stopped. We are everywhere. We are bisexual, lesbian, gay, and transgender people.
Remember we have every right to be in the world exactly as we are.
Celebrate that simply and fiercely.
I love you. Mahalo and aloha.” - Lani Ka’ahumanu, April 25, 1993
Since I first saw the above poster, and the speech from Lani in the caption, on the incredible lgbt_history account on Instagram, I think about it all the time, especially when Pride comes around. As I have gotten older, I feel more conflicted about these ‘days’ or ‘months’ that are marked on the calendar, as celebratory - or for remembrance or to education. I believe there is a benefit in honouring them publicly in this way, but oppressed people’s identities (be it their race, gender, sexuality) do not leave them outside of the day or month in which they are ‘celebrated’. What happens outside of that? The symbolic can be meaningful, but I fear that more often than not, the commercial, corporate and social media acknowledgement of Pride or Black History Month or Transgender Day of Visibility (to name a few) end up being hollow. They can easily become a tool for the most privileged (white, heterosexual, able-bodied, cisgendered) to pat themselves on the back for taking a second to think outside of their own experience, and usually, to have fun whilst doing so. To pop on a rainbow hat and then be done with it come July first. In a culture that is obsessed with how ‘representation matters’ - perhaps this isn’t a surprise. Visibility is important, but it is, at best, a means to an end. It is one of the (first) steps on the ladder; a springboard to changes that impact the lives of those who have been historically so poorly treated and neglected by society.
One of the main things I have learned from being Queer, and learning broadly about social justice issues, is that inter-community solidarity is vital. The prejudice I experience as a gay man growing up was incredibly painful, but importantly, it was also a pathway to connecting with other oppressed people, and embedded in me a deep desire for justice, a better world. It led me to support struggles that were not necessarily my own but were equally wrong and against my values.
Our struggles are deeply interconnected - they don’t exist in a vacuum. You might not be “interested” in politics, but it impacts your life and those around you whether you like it or not. And for this reason, Pride almost always feels complicated. Rightly so, I’d say. Don’t get me wrong, I treasure the ability to stomp around Soho, the gays and the dolls spilling out of bars and onto the pavements, glitter and rainbows in abundance. It is not insignificant; it does feel different to be in London on Pride weekend. There is a sense of magic in the air and (as long as you stay in the right area) a lack of fear, a sense of communal joy. And yet, I’ve always believed and been moved by Maya Angelou’s words that ‘no one of us can be free until everybody is free.’ Considering my experience is one that isn’t in many material ways compromised by my identity, how meaningful can my sense of freedom be - even if it is fleeting (I wouldn’t say I always feel free, by any means). What does Pride mean when Queer Palestinians are being bombed to death in these last months? What does Pride mean when we don’t understand that our identities will be weaponised to protect an imperial agenda (Israel’s relentless pinkwashing is a harrowing example of this) What does Pride mean when the leader of the Labour party spouts revolting transphobic rhetoric right before a general election that we are expected to be excited about? When there is the threat (both at home and abroad) of stripping back of rights for Trans people - already some of the most vulnerable in the community and society?
I don’t think this means we shouldn’t party at all, but I do think we should not turn away from what is happening in the world around us. If we do believe another world is possible, we have to ask these questions, to think critically, to resist the hyper-individualist approach to our liberation that neoliberalism encourages. We need solidarity with oppressed people everywhere, and that means not just queer people. Their struggle is ours too.
“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
―Arundhati Roy
Pride month may be over but your ability to enjoy culture written/made/created by Queer people is not. I thought I’d share some books/podcasts/documentaries that are either on my mind, on my list or have had a profound impact on me/I return to it again and again.
Both my own worldview and sense of self is so deeply shaped by the work created by so many queer writers/thinkers/comedians/activists/artists that it’s also a way to honour them. I feel forever indebted to how they have helped me to better understand myself, the world, and create a vision for a better way to live and to love one another.
Listening
Busy Being Black - hosted and created by the inimitable Josh Rivers - ‘the podcast exploring how we live in the fullness of our queer Black lives.’ Some of my favourite episodes are Travis Alabanza, Elijah McKinnon, Rahim Thawer and Emily Aboud.
Call me Mother with Shon Faye - ‘Author and journalist Shon Faye talks with LGBTQ+ trailblazers who have something important, interesting or enlightening to say about what it means to be queer in the world today. Through these conversations, Call Me Mother aims to deepen our understanding of queer experiences through the life stories of the elders who have lived through it before us – and show that all of us, queer or not, belong to a much broader history.’
Las Culturistas - ‘Ding dong! Join your culture consultants, Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang, on an unforgettable journey into the beating heart of CULTURE. Alongside sizzling special guests, they GET INTO the hottest pop-culture moments of the day and the formative cultural experiences that turned them into Culturistas.’
Straightio Lab - ‘StraightioLab is an intellectual podcast where smart comedians George Civeris and Sam Taggart unpack the rich, multi-colored tapestry of straight culture. In each episode, George and Sam are joined by a guest to hold a MIRROR to society and finally get to the BOTTOM of mysterious and perverse topics such as college fraternities, gender reveal parties, the military, themed restaurants, and the concept of "the holidays." Scared? Good.’
Docs
Disclosure - an affecting documentary which explores the history of the depiction of Trans characters in Hollywood. It is heartbreaking to watch, but so important - especially given many people do not know trans people in real life (which, the film explains, makes it even more complicated when film and tv portrayals of trans people are so transphobic.) The film explains how damaging these inaccurate portrayals are to trans people everywhere, on and off screen.
Meeting the Man - James Baldwin in Paris - A tense short film, made by very presumptuous and naive white filmmakers - it is very satisfying to watch them be absolutely read by James Baldwin. Otherwise it’s as you would expect - deeply captivating to see and hear James Baldwin’s intellectual worldview. It also contains the full clip of the often taken out of context ‘love has never been a popular movement’ speech. It is worth watching the whole speech alone, as in its entirety, is deeply moving and galvanizing. Of course the most sanitizable and respectable bit is the bit that is shared most widely; but this was not James Baldwin’s style or way of thinking (he was, as described in his biography, was ‘a lifelong anti-imperialist, black queer advocate, and feminist, James Baldwin was a passionate chronicler of the rise of the Civil Rights Movement, the US war against Vietnam, the Palestinian liberation struggle, and the rise of LGBTQ+ rights.’). In an age of content - it’s important to dig beyond the catchy screengrab or sentence. Watch the whole clip. Read the book by the writer instead of only the quote that is on GoodReads. I promise you - there is far more magic contained in that which cannot be shared easily.
Paris is Burning - Highly acclaimed and perhaps even more highly controversial, and in no small part due to the conflicting ideas about the ethics of making such a doc. Still, it is an incredibly moving film, and it has stayed with me since I first saw it. It follows ball culture in NYC, and the communities involved. If watching, I’d recommend reading some critique of the film as well - as that perspective is important.
Happy Birthday Marsha - (I haven’t seen this) “a 2017 fictional short film that imagines the gay and transgender rights pioneers Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera in the hours that led up to the 1969 Stonewall riots in New York City.” (Wiki description)
Films
All of us Strangers - Andrew Haigh
Call Me By Your Name (Novel by Andre Aciman, film by Luca Guadanigno
Reading (articles)
Want to love your body? Try swimming naked
J Wortham, NYT
No Pride in Occupation
Queer Palestinians on Israel’s pinkwashing - Emma Graham-Harrison, Guardian
Missing the Gay Best Friend
Mark Harris, NYT
LOTS of amazing stuff (especially on Black Queer history) from Jason Okundaye - I loved this profile of Ted Brown - it really stuck with me as something so special. And this wonderful article about LGBTQ+ people of colour fighting for their space at Pride, paving the way towards the sensational community orientated UK Black Pride.
Reading (books)
None of the Above - Travis Alabanza
Anything and everything by James Baldwin. Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone and Giovanni’s Room are two of my favourites.
Revolutionary Acts: Love & Brotherhood in Black Gay Britain - Jason Okundaye (currently reading)
James Baldwin: Living in Fire- Bill V Mullen (currently reading, recommended by Josh Rivers)
Towards a Gay Communism - Mario Marelli
The Transgender Issue - Shon Faye
Just by Looking at Him - Ryan O’Connell
Dancer from the Dance - Andrew Holleran
Detransition, Baby - Torrey Peters
Evenings and Weekends - Oisin McKenna
Your Silence Will Not Protect You - Audre Lorde
All About Love - bell hooks
Radical Intimacy - Sophie K Rosa
The End of Eddy - Edouard Louis
How To Write An Autobiographical Novel - Alexander Chee
Real Life - Brandon Taylor
Thank you for reading and being here, as ever. I’d love to hear your recs, or to chat about anything on this list that you enjoyed (as a consequence of reading, or if you’ve already enjoyed!)
Love David. x
x❤️❤️❤️x