On Gay Black Men and Bitterness.

I wrote this entry as a note on facebook on June 30, 2011. I thought I would post the contents here.

---

So...I thought I should do this while the events are fresh on my mind and I'm still drunk. Excuse any and all errors.

I've been struck by how many gay black men are bitter, or saddled with tons of baggage. This is particularly true in Boston.

Coming out is a happy time, or should be. When I did it, eight or so years ago, I had some things on my mind. I knew I had a homophobic aunt and some others and in my mind that meant my entire family was virulently homophobic. One of my best friends had come out as a lesbian and been disowned. A whole lot of nonsense. So, I prepared myself. I ran away from my urban Black school to some predominantly Jewish HS in the suburbs and made contingency plans for getting disowned. Never happened. I ran away again to college in an attempt to escape people who actually mattered to me.

That being said, now that I'm a little older, I've met some interesting people. One thing I've been struck by is how bitter so many gay black men are. Being part of the demographic, I didn't necessarily get it at first. I won't even address the DLs; this discussion is limited to out, gay black men. There was always something to complain about. The lack of options, the racism, the snow queens-- ie. other gay black men who refused to date other gay black men, or in more extreme cases even associate with them. I think Boston is particularly hit by this type of stuff, so that probably colors my experience.

To a certain extent, I believe that if you want to find something, you'll find it. If you're set on life being a piece of shit, then...guess what? It will be a piece of shit. A lot of people do this-- they're used to whining and moaning and being upset about nonsense and consistently search for nonsense. Which isn't to say negativity and nonsense don't exist-- they do. But if you look for it, you're probably going to only find more. This view informed part of my worldview about gay black men that were bitter-- they were bitter because they encountered nonsense, looked for more nonsense and only found more. The rabbit hole dug deeper. Which isn't to say the nonsense isn't real. I'm sure it is. But I just assume everything is a numbers game-- there are enough numbers of anything to distort your experiences and color your life. I don't know.

And then, tonight. So, today was already interesting. I'm pretending to be a lawyer-- typical summer for a rising 3rd year law student. Interesting summer so far. One of Black senior associates asked me what I felt about how whitewashed American history was in front of some of the hiring partners. Conversation literally went on for about 30~ minutes or so; one of the most awkward experiences of my life. Meant to blog about it. Today, a female partner went on today about a nonprofit she's involved with that arranges a homestay-ish program for urban youth-- Black/Hispanic youth, I understood. So, she essentially described the kid she took in for six summers-- poor, afraid of dogs, couldn't swim, single mom, HUD/Section 8 housing. The entire time she and another partner are clutching their pearls, gasping over how unfortunate the kid is and how proud she is that the kid was able to graduate from HS. The entire time, I'm thinking, you just described my entire fucking life. I am that damn kid. And then I wonder if they know that my life story is the same ~tragic ghetto kid's~ or if it's not visible from my resume or if it even matters.

That aside...back to today and gayness.

So, after the event with the partner, I go to a bar in Boston-- I'm ordering a drink. I notice four gay dudes. Two blacks, two whites, arguing. One of the Black gays is a friend, holding back the other. I'm not entirely sure what's going on. Next thing I know, one of the white dudes insults the Black dude and says something like, "your friend's a fucking chimpanzee" to my friend. And I'm just sort of struck, I guess. Next thing you know, my friend stops holding back the other black guy and there's almost fisticuffs.

It's funny, because people complain about Boston being racist, and I usually reply with handwaving. Any place's "racist" if you look for it-- people who say insensitive things or don't but think insensitive things are everywhere. So, if you meet the wrong person, you'll think Boston's racist-- it's all a numbers game. This was one of the first experiences I had in Boston that was this overt.

Anyway, the rest of the night was interesting. I've already decided that both off the white guys will never exist in my mind, no matter how many times I see them. But then I start thinking: this is how Black gay men become bitter.

The white guys were cute-- I'd seen one of them before; he was funny. He reminded me of some of my other friends. But I think the experience, and particularly his backpedaling and almost-apologies afterwards, sort of helped me remember one of the reasons I found making friends with gay white men difficult: because I often had suspicions about what they really thought. Whether it be the, "I'm not racist, but I don't date Black guys" comments, or the random foot-in-mouth insensitive statements that I found being made...very often, I find that I sometimes can#039;t trust white gay guys. Or, rather, that I sometimes don't know what they're thinking. I'm always wondering if they secretly have thoughts that I'm inferior or worthless or something. Actually, this experience echoes my relationship with a lot of white people that aren't my friends that I've encountered in general-- I've become more aware of it because of college and law school. When my White compatriots at Tufts wrote a carol about how Tufts would accept Black D students because they were Black, and when I encountered White law students online opining about Affirmative Action and Black students being at the bottom of the grade curve. It's like you're living a life of double talk: people that smile in your face, but who knows what they think.

This is obviously not true of my relationships with all of my White friends and I'm thankful for the meaningful ones I've made. Despite what i'm talking about, i'll still be working in predominantly white firm (hopefully), go to predominantly white bars, and have predominantly white friends/associates. But I'd be lying if I were to say that I were not at least somewhat suspicious at times. And multiply these incidents over years I'd time, and it only gets worse. Actually, what I guess I just described is paranoia. I am paranoid.

And then I think about gay black men. Is it really that much better? Between the deceit, the nonsense, the segmentedness, the being cheated on[haha, something I now understand very well], the mental disconnect-- why even bother?

And I can't say my experience with gay Asians has been that much better.

So, anyway, what are you left with? The beautiful alone.

And so, I was going through a lot of this tonight in my mind and I thought-- this is how Gay Black Men become bitter. When you realize that none of your major target demographics actually value you and the BS you have to deal with day in, day out. On top of everything else that being a black man in this country means.

And all I can think of is exactly why I wanted to move to China. Race relations in America are toxic. But more appropriate is that quote from Dominique Francon from The Fountainhead that I've always loved:

"You know, it's such a peculiar thing--our idea of mankind in general. We all
have a sort of vague, glowing picture when we say that, something solemn, big
and important. But actually all we know of it is the people we meet in our
lifetime. Look at them. Do you know any you'd feel big and solemn about? There's
nothing but housewives haggling at pushcarts, drooling brats who write dirty
words on the sidewalks, and drunken debutantes. Or their spiritual equivalent.
As a matter of fact, one can feel some respect for people when they suffer. They
have a certain dignity. But have you ever looked at them when they're enjoying
themselves? That's when you see the truth. Look at those who spend the money
they've slaved for--at amusement parks and side shows. Look at those who're rich
and have the whole world open to them. Observe what they pick out for enjoyment.
Watch them in the smarter speak-easies. That's your mankind in general. I don't
want to touch it."

I don't want to touch it.

Find Your Love.

A friend reminded me that I used to be a blogger and I should get back into it. Thanks, Colton!

I want to apologize. With work for the summer, twitter, and my petty relationship/school drama, things get so hectic.

So, I thought about what to blog about and what to even title this thing. There's Casey Anthony. There's general thoughts on business models that I want to try out.[It's interesting. At this point, I feel as if I'm either going to follow the traditional law firm model or I'm going to try to do something crazy, like become a writer or start a business. Sink or swim.]

And then I thought about this. The meds won for this entry.

Now, I may not have explained this before, but I used to do HIV prevention at a Boston non-profit organization for men of color-- primarily, Black & Latino men who have sex with men. It was interesting time. Being a gay Black man myself, I stay on top of updates in the HIV prevention field.

So, recently, there's been news about antiretroviral medication used to treat HIV can be taken by uninfected people who are exposed to HIV during sex to reduce infection risk by as high as 73% for hetereosexuals and up to 90% for men who have sex with men. This is a huge finding.

Now, to get a little personal: I just got an HIV test yesterday. I generally like to get tested once a quarter, just to stay on top of things, but the general recommendation is once a year. Get tested! It's important.

And, anyway, if these studies are accurate, I can only imagine how this is going to change the prevention field.

So, read the link, etc.

Hope everyone is doing well. Might do a more personal post in the near future, but I'm clearly an inconsistent writer. Would you hold it against me? ;).

Osama is dead.

Just thought it was deserving of a blog entry.

Ten years later, the US forces finally got him.

System's end

So, it's been a month, but I wanted to update with this tidbit that I was reading about on Above the Law, a law gossip site.

The story is here: link.

The number of first-time test-takers for the December LSAT went down 16%, which is very exciting! I recommend all of my friends to not apply to law school, so anything pointing to a decrease in law school admission is a good thing.

To be honest, though, I do think my entering law school wasn't a bad choice, though probably not the best one. I was a listless college senior with no real marketable skills, hated the nonprofit work I was doing, and wanted to make a lot of money. I was seduced by law schools with their median incomes and their fee waivers. Regardless, I didn't think very hard about the decision to go to law school which definitely was not a good idea.

The smartest thing to do would have been to apply to a master's program like I'd originally planned or go back to China for a while. But I was seized with this bizarre sense of urgency, that I needed to get it down immediately, that if I'd sat down I wouldn't get back up to go to school.

And now I'm halfway done with law school.

Anyway, I lucked out somehow with how things have been going, but any sign that people aren't going so eagerly into the law school game is a good thing, IMO. The market is still correcting itself and it's really tough. I remember being so idealistic about international law and getting published...somehow I lost that when I encountered the 1L grade curve. Haha.

Trying to get it back now.

Anyway, things have been good thus far. Maybe I'll go to the gym today.

Later, guys.

I don't want to touch it.

So, I decided to read the Fountainhead. Not as quoteworthy as Atlas Shrugged so far, but there's one quote I wanted to get down before I continued, from Domonique Francon:

"You know, it's such a peculiar thing--our idea of mankind in general. We all
have a sort of vague, glowing picture when we say that, something solemn, big
and important. But actually all we know of it is the people we meet in our
lifetime. Look at them. Do you know any you'd feel big and solemn about? There's
nothing but housewives haggling at pushcarts, drooling brats who write dirty
words on the sidewalks, and drunken debutantes. Or their spiritual equivalent.
As a matter of fact, one can feel some respect for people when they suffer. They
have a certain dignity. But have you ever looked at them when they're enjoying
themselves? That's when you see the truth. Look at those who spend the money
they've slaved for--at amusement parks and side shows. Look at those who're rich
and have the whole world open to them. Observe what they pick out for enjoyment.
Watch them in the smarter speak-easies. That's your mankind in general. I don't
want to touch it."

Feels a little privileged, but the last sentences stuck out to me.

The Fountainhead is good, but I'm thinking that I've outgrown Rand. She's so heavy-handed and preachy that everything feels predictable, even if I do like her preaching. I wonder if I'd like Atlas Shrugged as much if I reread it.

Anyway, I'm only about 20% in, so I've got quite a ways to go. Expect a fuller entry later.

Hope everyone's having a good holiday!

Addendum...

I meant to say that part of the reason I like this song might have to do with my discovery that I am not entirely over my ex.

But that's a post for another time-- I should probably wait until I reestablish a reader base before I start whining about my screwy love life again, yes/yes?

Glad you agree.

Someone needs to do my Bankruptcy exam. Really.

I don't believe in studying

So, another idea I had while I was not thinking about Section 362 of the Bankruptcy Code was that I should make blog entries about party ideas.

As a lifelong student of Top 40 music, gay party culture, whiskey and generally messiness, I think this might actually be a good idea.

This post was inspired by my love for Ke$ha's song, "The Harold Song." I normally don't pay Ke$ha much attention, though I do like much of her music-- one of the posters on ONTD described her as a troll in the music industry. Pretty accurate, actually: besides being white, she isn't rail thin or super toned, isn't incredibly attractive. She's just a messy white girl who sing-raps about melodrama and hard liquor: my type of girl.[Though, I do think some of her lyrics on the current album have been transphobic...I might have to do another post about that]

Anyway, I want to have a Ke$ha party. Her song, "The Harold Song" from Cannibal is downright addictive. Now, when I'm "studying", I like to have songs on repeat-- Taylor Swift is generally the unfortunate victim. Lady Gaga, Chiddy Bang, Rihanna, and Shakira have been other victims, so it's actually an honor.

The Harold Song is very different from Tik Tok/We R Who We R. It's more Katy Perry, I guess-- pseudo-introspective, full of youthful melancholy, etc. Maybe it's even like what I used to like about Gaga-- post-modern, tongue-in-cheek.[Except, I don't think Ke$ha pulls it off as well.] I'll post the lyrics at the end of the post.

Anyway, point is: I love this song. And I want to have a Ke$ha party but I'm not sure what that would entail. Animal prints? Glow in the dark face paint? Eagle feathers? None of that sounds very fun. I just want to put my hands up, do shots of tequila and pose for pictures with beautiful people. Can't wait until school is over.

Yes, that will be my Ke$ha party. I also have to think about locale. I don't think the fabulous people of Michigan will appreciate it, unfortunately. And I don't know how my mother feels about having a Ke$ha party at her house over break.

Maybe I'll coop someone's house. Sounds like a plan, Jan!

Okay, lyrics and back to pretending to study. GO!

--

I miss your soft lips. I miss your white sheets.
I miss the scratch of your un-shaved face on my cheek.
And this is so hard cause I didn't see
that you were the love of my life and it kills me.
I see your face in strangers on the street.
I still say your name when I'm talking in my sleep.
And in the limelight, I play it off fine.
But I can't handle it when I turn off my night light.
[Ah]
But I can't handle it when I turn off my night light.
[Ah]

Chorus:
They say that true love hurts, well this could almost kill me.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.

The life is fading from me while you watch my heart bleed.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.

Verse:
Remember the time we jumped the fence when
the Stones were playing and we were too broke to get in.
You held my hand and then made me cry while
I swore to God it was the best night of my life.
Or when you took me across the world, we
promised that this will last forever but now I see.

It was my past life, a beautiful time
Drunk off of nothing but each other till the sun rise.
[Ah]
Drunk off of nothing but each other till the sun rise.

Chorus:
They say that true love hurts, well this could almost kill me.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.

The life is fading from me while you watch my heart bleed.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.

Bridge:
It was a past (he was a past life) life, a beautiful time.
Drunk off of nothing but each other till the sun rise. [Till the sun rise.]

Chorus:
They say that true love hurts, well this could almost kill me.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.

The life is fading from me while you watch my heart bleed.
Young love murder, that is what this must be.
I would give it all to not be sleeping alone.