Get Ya Mind Right: To Be Black, Gay, and Happy

Question:  They say we're all on the same political boat.  We should be brothers.  But, before I accept his kinship, political, or otherwise, this is what I want to know.  Where does his loyalty lie?  Priorities, that's what I want to know.  Come the final throwback, what is he first, black or gay?

I was going through one of my old notebooks and stumbled across this question.  I am pretty sure I got it from a book somewhere, but I didn't make a note of where I got, but I do remember when I wrote it.  It was about three years ago when I was first struggling with my sexuality and its implications for the rest of my life, my friends, my family.  I had just taken genuine ownership of my Blackness and wore it like a coat of arms, proud and majestically draped in shades of green, red, and ebony.  And yet, here was the possibility that I didn't quite fit the mold of the strong Black man; a splash of fuchsia thrown across my mosaic of afrocentricity.

I was afraid to ask questions of myself or my family.  Afraid of rejection.  Afraid of having to choose between my life and culture for this foreign part of myself that I still didn't really understand.  Then I came across a film called Tongues Untied by Marlon Riggs and he gave me an answer to my unasked question.

How do you choose one eye over another, this half of the brain over that?  Or in words this brother might understand, which does he value most, his left nut or his right?

Simple and yet profound.   As I sit and write I actually think I might have pulled that earlier quote from the same film (and if I didn't it sure as hell would have fit).  For a very long time I kept trying to figure out how I would manage to incorporate this new thing about myself to the life that I had created.  How would I choose and it wasn't really until that film that I stopped to ask who was making me choose.

I came up with a laundry list of society, my culture, my family, but the truth was that the only one who was really making me chose was myself.  I didn't need to change.  I had always been this foreign thing and it didn't detract from the good of my life.  Oh that is not to say that there were not moments of...adjustment.  Like the first time a guy kissed me in public.  Or the moment when I finally told someone other then my first partner.

But those moments came and went.  And I survived.

For anyone still struggling with the question of how to live in both worlds I leave you with these words by Kendall Thomas from his article "Ain't Nothin' Like the Real thing": Black Masculinity, Gay Sexuality, and the Jargon of Authenticity published in Wahneema Lubiano's anthology The House that Race Built.

For all it's ambivalence, the example of "slender gay" James Baldwin taught some of us ohow to be gay men in, and of, black America.  the life and work of James Baldwin thus give the lie to the notion that black and gay identity are hostile to one another at all points.  They show, too, that while "[i]t is difficult to be despised," black gay men and lesbians must resist the demand (heard in some quarters) that we must choose between these two sources of the self and commit a kind of psychich suicide (Thomas 122).


Peace.

I.M.


Tongues Untied, prod. and dir. Marlon Riggs, 55 min., color, 1985, videocassette.

Thomas, Kendall.  " ' Ain't Nothin' Like the Real Thing': Black Masculinity, Gay Sexuality, and the Jargon of Authenticity."  The House that Race Built.  Ed. Wahneema Lubiano.  New York: random House, 1998.  (122).

Red Ink, Chapter 2

"Hey.  You getting in or not?" the cab driver asked.

I did not reply and instead simply climbed in the back seat of the car.  I had been standing outside for the last 10 minutes trying to hail a cab and I was dripping wet from the rain.

"You deaf or what?" the cab driver asked.

"What?" I said in a faint whisper.

"I said, 'Where to?'" he repeated.

"I need to go to Washington Circle.  Down by I and 23rd."  I replied.

"Down by the hospital right?"

"Yes," I said.  I was surprised by how calm I sounded.  I had spent the entire time pacing back and forth on the street trying to stop my brain from thinking.

The cab driver just nodded his head and pulled away from the curve.  I looked straight ahead while  trying to ignore the loud Arabic music coming from the radio.  I could see the cab driver looking back at me through the rear view mirror, so I turned my head at stared out the window.  The cab driver could sense my mood and did not attempt to engage me in conversation.  

The ride was uneventful and allowed me time to relax my nerves.  The woman on the phone had been vague.  It could be anyone at the hospital.  

"I could be anybody," I whispered to myself.

It was not long before the cab driver pulled up outside the hospital.  I tossed him a few bucks, hopped out, and made my way to the lobby of the emergency room.

"Hello sir.  May I help you?" asked one of the nurses behind the desk.

"I am not sure," I said as my voice unsteady.

"Well let's start with the basics honey.  What's your name?"

"Dupri.  Adonis Dupri," I replied.   

"Well, I am sure that we can figure out what you need.  Are  you hurt or sick?"  she gently asked.

I simply shook my head, not trusting my voice.

"Okay.  Are you here to see someone else?"

I gave a slight nod.    

"Do you know the name of the patient?"

"No."  I answered.  "I mean, I don't know.  I just got a call and they said there was an accident and I needed to come down.  Here."  I could feel my earlier calm slipping away.

"Okay sir.  Not to worry," she said.  "Let me just check my log book and we can see where you need to go.  You just go take a seat there sir and we will get you taken care of.  How does that sound?"

I walked over and collapsed into the seat she had indicated.  The lobby smelled like Lysol and was making me feel nauseous.  I looked down at my phone waiting to hear Chrisette's voice trying not to get nervous as I waited for the doctor.  

'Mr. Dupri?" I heard a voice ask.

I looked up and saw a young man in a white lab coat holding a clip board with a bunch of papers on it.

"Yes.  I am Mr. Dupri."

"Hello Mr. Dupri.  My name is Dr. Tate."  He reached out take shake my hand but I simply looked at him until he lowered his hand back to his side.

"Earlier this evening we had a patient who was brought the the ER.  They had been in a pretty serious car accident and suffered a great deal of trauma.  The patient has been in surgery for the last 3 hours and is now in recovery,  Now there..."  

I interrupted him and said, "I am sorry sir, but I still don't know why I am here."  

"Oh.  I am so sorry," he said.  "When the patient first arrived we couldn't find any identification.  The only thing we found was a cell phone.  We scrolled through the most recent calls and saw your number listed several times."

I tried to swallow but I could feel my throat tightening.

"We were hoping you could help us identify the patient."  The doctor looked at me but I simply looked at the ground avoiding his eyes.

I took a breathe to steady myself.  Then I looked back up to meet his gaze.  

"Alright then.  Show me where I need to go."

"Please follow me," he said leading me through a winding set of corridors.

"Now, I worn you you might want to brace yourself.  The patient suffered massive trauma and has been in surgery for the last few hours.  It's still very touch and go and they are very heavily sedated."

Sooner than I would have liked we were standing in front of one of the trauma rooms.  I could feel my chest constrict as he opened the door and stepped into the room.  I tried to fall him, but my legs wouldn't move.

'Mr. Dupri?  Sir, if you could just step into the room."

I tried to take another step but halted as I glanced into the room.  All I could see were tubes and bandages.  Black swollen skin and the smell of sickness.  And then I saw it and my foot froze mid-stride.

"I can't.  I can't I can't.  Can't can;t," my words began to jumble together and my resolve shattered.  All of the worry and pain I held been holding in swelled to the surface as my eyes focused on the hand lying on the bed.  On the index of the right hand I could just make out the gleam of a silver ring with a onyx setting.  I would know that ring anywhere.

"Mr. Dupri," the doctor urged.

"Can't..." I said as I burst into sobs and fled back down the hall blinded by the image of a silver ring against black skin.

Pen and Paper: Forbidden Fruit

an ode to love

 

 

you are

butter pecan

with a hint of mocha

blended into

a cosmopolitan delight

that eases the chill in my spine

replacing it with

desire that

runs through me like fever

and leaves behind

distilled tastes of innocence

purified perfection

tastes of royalty

not born of Kipling’s India

 

 

I’m talkin’ bout the

fruit of concrete jungles

of urban life

fruit of trees whose roots

cling to the South

drawing nourishment

from the shores of Oshun



to taste even the seeds of this tree

is a temptation

only a child of Eve

freed from false sin could extend

a new age pilgrim

I am

 

 

come

asking for

music

evanescent joy

transcendent sound

that can stimulate me

to an existential state

of

procreation

that impregnates the tongue

giving birth to truth

and ecstasy

that lingers in

mind body and soul

like footprints

in the sand on a beach

with no tide



timeless blessings

conveyed by the

hidden knowledge of the tree of life

knowledge of you

me

us



manifested in the curves

of your body

the essence of your being

conveyed by

the meeting of your lips

with mine



at your command

your time and place

I

will come

for

you

and in our union

we will

make long

everlasting

peace

Echoes: Verse 8, e.e. cummings

may i feel said he
by e.e. cummings

may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
alot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
umm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)


cummings, e.e.  "may i feel said he."  The Norton anthology of Poetry. ed. Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 2005.  (1395-1396)
-------------------------------------------------

since feeling is first
by e.e. cummings

since feeling is first
who pays attention
to the syntax of things
wille never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fae
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers.  Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
our eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other:then
laugh,leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

cummings, e.e.  "since feeling is first."  The Norton anthology of Poetry. ed. Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 2005.  (1394-1395).

-----------------------------------------------------------

Edward Estlin Cummings was born on October 14, 1894 in Cambridge, Massachusetts to Edward and Rebecca Haskwell Clarke Cummings.  His writing style is one of the most innovative of the twentieth century. He uses distorted syntax and unusual punctuation to illustrate simple, and often satirical themes on either the decay of modern society, or on love.

Many say that cummings' multitude of love poems stem from his many marriages. On March 19, 1924, he married Elaine Orr, who he had had a daughter with some years earlier. He divorced her on December 4 of the same year. In 1927, he married Anne Barton. He later divorced her to marry model and actress Marion Morehouse, with whom he remained married until his death in 1962.

When considering the writing style of e. e. cummings, one must note his use of punctuation, sarcasm, rhyme and enjambment. The poetry of e. e. starts with the basic principle that punctuation is an art form all its own. He uses punctuation like a second alphabet, to add to the intensity of his poems, and to make points without using words. Perhaps a more commonly used form of poetic device is called enjambment, or the running-on of a sentence from one line to the next. Not only does e. e. use enjambment, but he uses it so freely that one sentence might be the entire poem, and might take up fifteen lines with nine words.

Pen and Paper: Poem for Huey

Poem for Huey

Need
A panther in my belly
Paws heavy in my gut
No peace
Just claws
Tearing at my insides
Always wanting
Freedom

Eclipse, Chapter 1

What follows is an on-going bedtime story I started telling someone the other night...

Eclipse, Chapter 1

Once upon a time before there was time.  Before man. Before words and deeds, there was a vast darkness simply known as The Void and at its center sat a single solitary Thought. 

The Void did not speak so the Thought spent its days in silent isolation surrounded by chaos and shadows.  The Thought tried to speak to The Void, but only heard a distorted echo of its own voice bounce back.  One day, tired of being alone, the Thought stirred in the void and reached out to the darkness and where it met The Void a great soundless wind began to blow.

Both The Void and the Thought stared on as the wind picked up speed drawing in some of the heat from Thought and the coldness of The Void into its center.  It churned and turned in upon itself, drawing the bits of the two onlookers into its core where a bright glow began to form.  The glow was streaked with golden rays and silver flashes that became the first light in the dark.  The glow became a glare and both The Void and the Thought backed turned away, blinded by the light.

As they parted the wind slowed and the glare dimmed until the light was no more than a warm glow. The Void and Thought looked back to find that there wasn't one glow but two!  The to approached the pair, careful not to touch each other for fear of what would happen.  As one they looked down at the two points of light that lay nestled together,

One of the pair appeared to be made of silver and diamonds.  The other was of pure gold and studded with rubies.  They lay wrapped in each other’s arms with their eyes shut as if the glare had been much for even them to endure.

Thought looked down and was curious.  This was the first new thing he had ever seen and he longed to wake the pair to see if they would help ease his loneliness.  He carefully reached out to the pair and waited.  When nothing happened he gently shook them awake.

Their eyes opened and stared into the face across from them. In that moment they both vowed without knowing to never let the other go. Thought saw the look in their eyes and was moved.  After moment, It decided to call it Love.  The Thought reached out and touched the minds of the two lights and the word took root in their minds. 

“Love” they said.

Their voices cut through The Void and became the first sound.  They nodded their heads in unison as the word bounced back to them.  Yes, Love sounded like just the word to use.  The Thought laughed to itself as it watched the two lights attempt to rise on wobbly legs.  They helped each other to their feet and their light flared brighter and brighter, each reflecting the glow of the other in rhythms that pulsed in time with their hearts. 

During all of this exchange, The Void maintained its silence and merely looked on.  It continued to keep its own counsel as The Thought scooped the lights up and took them back to the center of Its darkness.  It watched on as the lights pulsed in each other’s embrace careful not to let its mind wander, least Thought grow leery of It’s watchful eyes…

Echoes: Verse 7, Elvira A. Gasser

I have been wondering if I will have reason to say this anytime soon....

Don't Worry My Love....

by Elvira A. Gasser 

My love, our time is coming near
I can't wait until we are together
Sometimes you may feel lonely, but I am here
And I will be your best friend forever
Until the end of time my dear
Until the end of time, I will be here
To hold you in my arms
And kiss your soul
And we can walk holding eachothers hands
I wish you were here right now, my hands are cold
You're my best friend and the lover of my soul
Don't worry my love, the time is almost here
Soon we'll be one flesh, and together we'll grow old
I get desperate sometimes, I know
Because I miss you, my sexy soldier
And my love for you I can't wait to show
Do not worry my soulmate, that we will be together forever.