Unseen, Unheard BLACK GAYS AND LESBIANS STRUGGLE AS A MINORITY WITHIN A MINORITY by Jim Steichen graphic by Scott Herman One of the reasons that I'm glad to be alive in 1997 is that everyone pretty much accepts that there are no easy answers. Life at the fin de siècle is more soap opera than sitcom: a continually self-complicating series of developments and revelations rather than a brief exemplary tale with a tidy dénouement. And don't let the clean, classically-ordered architecture around here fool you into thinking that we here at U.Va. are relatively immune to this postmodern messiness. Don't let the accepted homogeneous image of U.Va. prevent you from recognizing the myriad of other students out there struggling to carve out an identity of their own. So please, join me now on an exploration (I don't dare call this modest essai anything more than that) of one of the more problematic conditions facing a small and largely invisible group of students here at U.Va.: being black and homosexual. It would be easy to write off many of the problems facing black gay and lesbian students -- as this writer almost fell into the trap of doing -- as the same as those affecting gay and lesbian students in general: how to negotiate the closet, how to relate to family and friends, how to reconcile religious beliefs, how to live in a heterosexist society. If only. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. can say it better than anyone: "Race has become a trope of ultimate, irreducible difference between cultures, linguistic groups, or adherents of specific belief systems." In describing the case of the black homosexual, Gates' statement might be modified by replacing "between" with "within." A black gay or lesbian student's attempts to become involved in the almost exclusively white gay community means accepting a degree of alienation and isolation; and considering that sexual orientation is a trope of equally "irreducible difference," a homosexual black student's attempt to be out in the black community means isolation as well. As one student told me, the make-up of both the gay community and the black community reinforces the image that there simply aren't any black gay or lesbian students. The membership of any group determines the attitude of the group as a whole. In the case of the LGBU, the fact that very few non-white students attend meetings gives the group, however unintentionally, a white mindset. In the case of the black community and its organizations, the fact that everyone is either heterosexual or assumed to be heterosexual makes heterosexuality the only way to be. Homophobia in the black community has numerous sources. One could understand anti-gay sentiments as a Machiavellian tactic of practicality. As one student's father asked him, "You already have so much going against you, why make things that much more difficult?" If you're black, you simply can't afford to be gay as well. Homosexuality is perceived as a threat by the two most important institutions in black society: the family and the church. Parents expect their children to maintain and strengthen the family, and homosexuality, much like inter-racial marriage, fails to provide conventional continuity and stability. A speaker in Marlon Riggs' short film Tongues Untied puts the problem more straightforwardly: "What kind of role model is a punk [i.e. faggot]?" The hostility of the church community does not need explanation (ask your local fundamentalist about his or her favorite de-contextualized reading of Leviticus); it marginalizes homosexuals by rendering them even more invisible and non-existent. The black community has circled its wagons in self-defense, leaving some of its members vulnerable to exposure. The almost complete absence of media images of black gays and lesbians exacerbates the problem of invisibility. The media provide meager enough representation of homosexuals, but even less of the black homosexual, to the extent that he may as well not exist in the realm of television and popular culture, and consequently may as well not exist in the mind of the Average American. Additionally, the images of black males that the media do provide are always of a single variety -- one that does not leave room for any meaningful alternatives. This uni-dimensional representation combines with the strict notions of manhood held by the black community to make it nearly impossible for a black gay man to be who he is. And the women? So easy to get caught up in one end of an issue that you lose sight of the other. Black women in general find themselves in a complex and problematic relationship with the women's movement. Witness Audre Lorde: "By and large within the women's movement today, white women focus upon their oppression as women and ignore differences of race, sexual preference, class, and age. There is a pretense of homogeneity of experience covered by the word sisterhood that does not in fact exist." And if the women's movement is not fully capable of addressing the needs of lesbians, in particular black lesbians, are they supposed to turn instead to the gay liberation movement, a group run and predominately membered by white men? Closer to home, is there any support for the "same gender loving brothas and sistas at U.Va." whom the anonymous website created at the beginning of this semester hopes to contact? Despite the numerous and successful programs and services provided by the Office of African American Affairs (U.Va. ranks highest in the nation for retention and graduation of black students), there is no program that addresses specifically the unique needs of black gays and lesbians. What would students like to have available? A chance to meet informally, an opportunity to talk with others who share similar needs and are dealing with similar issues, a safe place where they can be themselves. Hardly unreasonable demands, one would think. Now the apologia (no conclusion from me on a subject like this -- consult Lorde or Riggs if you're looking for that). I didn't refer to African Americans, nor did I address bisexual or transgender issues. I didn't talk about class conflicts or AIDS. I didn't discuss other ethnic minorities (Hispanic/Latino/Chicano, Asian, Native American etc.). I didn't talk about Langston Hughes, Bayard Rustin, or Alice Walker. Or maybe I did. The author would like to acknowledge Edward Brinkley, Jonathan Flatley, Terrilynn Platt, Maria Pulzetti, and Calvin Willis for their contributions to this piece.

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