Mandrake Society Radio

In light of the talk about the Dallas Principles and my recent trip to allgo’s second annual Texas Queer of Color Summit, I realize two things. For one thing, being an “out” blogger may afford me the opportunity to speak louder about certain issues than perhaps some individuals are able to given their jobs and family situations. However, in light of that fact, I must say that I took it upon myself to start this up, long before friends in my local community even caught to what a podcast was because I believe in telling our community’s story.

The second thing I’ve realized is the personal fear that I’ve had around the word, “activist”. Yes, the denotation of the word is someone gets involved with intentional action to bring about social change, political change, economic justice, or environmental wellbeing. However, the connotation of the word brings images of counter-culture activities like dangerous protests that can threaten one’s livelihood or social standing, which may interest some of the young and restless but not so much those with families or solid careers with high visiblity. Of course, when you look at the history of African-Americans struggle for freedom, equality, and access in the United States, one has to ask when we’ve ever stopped being counter culture. That is a another blog unto itself, like one Terrance Heath wrote so well. Add to that struggle of acceptance, a personal realization that the”otherness” that you’ve felt all your life has the denotation of the term bisexual, or gay/lesbian, or transgender, and it can leave you wondering where home really is.

I believe that is the real personal fear: the possibility to having to detach from everything I know as humor, everything I know as joy, and everything I know as comfort. Yes, comfort, like the food that many African-Americans eat knowing well that it is unhealthy, but reminds them of better, perhaps safer times (even if it was only a period of ignorance). That may sound dramatic, but for me it was real. I didn’t want to be a solo representation of the gay community no more than I felt I was an ample representation of the black community. But that’s when something switched, and I began to ask my myself why I felt this way. Who says I can’t be a voice in this community, both black and gay, and an uncle and a active whole community member? Who says I must allow others to speak for me, while I benefit from their public scrutiny all because I just want to “live my life” and not make waves? Who says I must meet someone else’s criteria of being a community advocate or activist? A preacher told me a long time ago, speaking at a fun-raiser, that it’s not about equal giving, but equal sacrifice. His call was for individuals to rethink their giving in terms of personal contribution and not comparison with others.

So, why am I sharing my experience with activism? I believe that I can be active in many ways that still make a difference. Writing an email or several. Organizing or attend a rally/meeting or several. Helping with a $5 bill or several to organizations and artists (like playwrights, musicians, filmmakers, poets, and new media types (!)) who help build our sense of community. However, the equal sacrifice may best come with those who love and care for the most knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are indeed gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender. I will say that was a turning point in my life that made all the difference. Being involved in the church as I was, the last thing I wanted was for anyone else to out me before I told my parents and sisters. Once they knew, as well as other friends who I cared about, it was like I didn’t have same reservations as before. It was like I knew I wasn’t comfortable with a rainbow around my door at the time, but seeing one up the street came me a strange feeling of (there’s that word again) comfort now. To be continued.