G-L-B-T-Q is not the new B-L-A-C-K

[E. Torran Jaye]

     February is African American History Month, and as a life-long, card carrying member of the African American community (I came out some time ago) I have grown beyond weary of certain factions of our society equating the position or plight of the gay community with being Black or the Black experience. As shocking as this may be to some, being G-L-B-T-Q (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning or Queer) is NOT the new B-L-A-C-K (African American).

 

     While there are some African Americans who can, by way of hue or histrionics, feign being African American, there is no sound or sensible contention with the fact that being African American—as multifaceted and sometimes confusing as that may be (I prefer being called an American Black, see?)—is largely a product of heredity and ancestry. 

 

     Despite the vitriol of everyone from lay pundits to Lady Gaga, there is no substantive evidence which leads to conclusive proof that sexual attraction or gender identity is, in part or whole, a product of gene placement or birth.  Physiological and behavioral variances aside, the expression of one’s sexuality is largely (and properly) considered a choice based primarily on individual or collective proclivities.

 

     With the firestorm of media activity surrounding the recent lionizing of Ellen DeGeneres for her becoming a spokesperson for one of America’s most prolific retailers, and the equally passionate lambasting and censure of CNN contributor Roland Martin for his Twitter remarks related to a male underwear ad broadcasted during the latest Super Bowl, it is still sadly evident that there is a growing trend in both the GLBTQ and GLBTQ-sympathetic communities to equate any actual or assumed triumphs and tragedies they experience with chronicled events in Black history ranging from the African Diaspora to the Democratic nomination of Barak Obama.

 

     While any criminal reproach to sexual expression is reprehensible (except of course when it comes to criminal expressions of sexuality), sexual expression only becomes subject to scrutiny and critique when discretion or modesty is set aside.  Once sexual expression in any form becomes public, it rightfully becomes subject to the full spectrum of public reaction, to include not being embraced or accepted.

 

     Simply put, I can choose to be publicly or privately sexual, but I can’t choose to be publicly or privately Black.  The converse cannot be said in good faith by anyone, African American or otherwise.