Newspaper Page Text
Southern Voice/Noverriber 8, 1990
13
F E AT U R E
need a little help here in the kitchen or
with the kids," the guy's response is "Gee,
what does that mean?"
SV: What's the source of this prob
lem?
FA: Well, most men in our culture
have a real difficulty in not having been
well fathered. Because of the work ethic
of the '50s, summarized by "Ozzie and
Harriet” and "Leave it to Beaver,” most
men lived in a family where Mom stayed
home and Dad worked. He had very little
psychic energy left over for relationships,
so Mom took care of his emotional needs;
she became his emotional reality. This has
affected not only straight men, but all
men in our society. In a psychic sense,
many of us really are fatherless.
SV: Learning how to work with
strong women on an equal basis—isn't
that a lesson that gay men can teach to
straight men?
FA: For sure. I think one of the short
comings of Bly and his men's movement
is that they have failed to draw on the
experience and wisdom of gay men. We
have an awful lot to offer, in terms of how
to be close to other men, how to work
with women, how to deal with the
"female side" that men have.
SV: Is that because of their homopho
bia? Are they afraid of us?
FA: I think so. And there is a more
insidious problem among many men, who
claim they are not prejudiced and yet are
really very heterocentric. Like white peo
ple who think that simply because they
say "I'm not prejudiced," black people are
going to want to affiliate with and
befriend them. Racism has to do with a
world view; just being nice isn't enough.
It's ok that straight men being to work
on their stuff—I like that they have a
place to start taking care of each other in
a deeper way. But I'm not particularly
drawn to participate in it. I feel like I
would end up as the sort of "substitute
woman" in the relationship. They think
I'm the one who wants to know how
they're feeling. That's fun for about fif
teen minutes.
In the gay community, we are starting
to differentiate between homophobia and
heterosexism, homophobia being an
active haded and heterosexism, or hetero
centrism, as a passive assumption that
being straight is the preferred mode of
existence.
so relentlessly promoting it?
SV: Aren't we, as gay men, just as
guilty of ethnocentrism when we're deal
ing with women's issues or racism or eth
nic differences?
FA: White gay men in general have a
lot of work to do on their racism. Not
many gay men know much about lesbian
culture, either—they don't know who
Jane Rule or Audre Lorde or Adrienne
Rich are. And yet lesbians have been just
phenomenal in their response to AIDS. It
is something they really don't share with
us; they are not affected by AIDS person
ally. That is something we should notice
We are always the forerunners when it comes to style,
an area that has been considered safe and superfluous
by the wider society. Hopefully in the years ahead we
can use our position to influence politics, gender roles
and spirituality. We can bring to other aspects of society
what we know about beauty, balance and love.
The world has never so needed our gifts.
Gay men are easily turned off from
participating in some of these things
because of basically tolerant straight peo
ple who don’t do the work necessary to
enrich themselves and their perspective,
like reading gay literature, getting to
know gay people in more than just a
social context It is almost as if there is
somewhere propagandizing heterosexual
ity. Why do they have to prop it up that
way? Why do they scream about hetero
sexual prerogative if it is such a damn
natural part of everything? If so many
people are so heterosexual, why are they
and use for inspiration.
SV: Do you see a "special role" for
gay men in society?
FA: One of the things that I got from
listening to a tape by John Boswell [the
gay Christian historian] is the notion of
genetic altruism, which supposes that
nature intentionally created a 10% surplus
in the adult population to do things other
than raise children. Suddenly so many
things made sense to me. Why are there
generally more children than parents can
take care of? People who are in the pro
creative process, which takes 20 to 30
prime years of a person's life, don't have a
lot of room for other things. We're part of
that solution. As gay people, we have the
time and energy to put into the arts or the
healing and helping professions.
It doesn't seem to be accidental that so
many of us are in the job of beautifying
the world or taking care of people in
need. In earlier societies, like Native
American and others, gay people often
had better defined roles like shaman or
priest or berdache. You were a helper and
you were seen as a boon to your tribe, not
a detriment.
Gay men and lesbians are in a unique
position as outsiders to view our culture
critically and to help change it. We are
always the forerunners when it comes to
style, an area that has been considered
safe and superfluous by the wider society.
Hopefully in the years ahead we can use
our position to influence politics, gender
roles and spirituality. We can bring to
other aspects of society what we know
about beauty, balance and love. The
world has never so needed our gifts.
■ ■■
Franklin Abbott will read from and
sign copies of his new anthology Men
and intimacy at Borders Book Shop, 3655
Roswell Road, on Thurs, Nov. 8 from 7-
8:30p.m. Call 237-0707 for information.
"Coming to the Edge: A Workshop
on Differences for Gay and Straight
Friends," conducted by Lanier Clance
and Franklin Abbott will be presented at
the First Existentialist Congregation, 470
Candler Park Drive, Nov. 17 from
11a.m.—4p.m; it is open to both men and
women. Bring a straight friend. Cost is
$30 per pair. Call 378-5570 for reserva
tions.
by Pat Lewis
The small but comfortable room is
filled with natural light that filters
through a large curtainless window at
its end. The setting sun's light allows
for a clear view of each of the faces
gathered. Some are long and thin, oth
ers round and plump. The faces are
clean and bearded. They shine with the
knowledge of age and experience.
They glow with the tenderness of
youth.
We smile warmly as old friends
greet old friends and we acquaint our
selves with new ones. Occasionally a
loud roar of laughter rises above the
soft chatter to signal the end of a funny
story or the punch line to a familiar
joke. We reminisce, we hug and we
kiss as only family would.
At first glance this seems to be one
of only hundreds of small gatherings
given weekly by someone in the city.
At first glance it seems to be another
"A" list party where only superficial
socializing and the exchange of phone
numbers will take place.
But soon a small, thin man in his
early thirties calls for our attention. He
announces that the "discussion" is
about to begin.
Methodically and without hesita
tion, each person takes his seat in the
circle. The host folds his legs beneath
him as he addresses the 30-plus men
gathered. His voice is soft and low, his
words controlled and deliberate:
"Thank you for coming. This is the
August meeting of the Atlanta Men's
Caucus. To be in this room, you need
Examining Our Lives
"We are Black men who are proudly gay.
What we offer is our lives, our love, our visions.
We are risin' to the love we all need."
—Joseph Beam
only meet three important criteria. You
must be a man, you must be Black, and
you are gay. Your age, your income
level, educational background or job
status does not matter. Only that you
are a Black gay man."
The Atlanta Men's Caucus has exist
ed for the past three years. We gather
monthly or, when whenever schedules
can be arranged, to talk about a specific
topic or concern, maybe an event that
directly affects our lives as Black gays.
The subjects range from relation
ships to health; from our role in politics
to die role of Black gays in the church.
They are honestly painful and exhila
rating discussions about our lives.
Those who attend exemplify the
pluralistic make up of our community.
There are "light browns," and "medium
browns," and "dark browns." There are
tall brothers, short brothers, big broth
ers and petite brothers. They are butch
and they are fern. Some are coupled
and some are not.
We talk about our relationships with
our parents, our siblings, our co-work
ers, and our neighbors. We share indi
vidual insight into the myriad of com
plex issues that define racism and
homophobia.
There are many groups such as the
Atlanta Men's Caucus forming around
the country as Black gay men come
together in increasing numbers to share
ideas and stories about their lives.
I am reminded of two such meetings
last February at the National Black Gay
and Lesbian Leadership Conference
here in Atlanta. At each meeting more
than 50 brothers talked about, and
sometimes cried about, what it is like
to grow up Black and gay. And
although we were all from very differ
ent backgrounds, from across the U.S.
and Jamaica, our stories of frustration,
rage, joy and love sounded hauntingly
similar. The realization bonded us
because we know our individual strug
gles are reflective of the struggles of
our brothers.
We disagreed and agreed on coming
out of the closet, fathering children,
and being politically active as gays. We
laughed and joked about our old loves,
our new loves, our mannerisms, and
our unique African-American Culture.
As gay men of African descent we
are taking more control of our lives.
We realize that we must reach beyond
our own closets to other brothers to
share and thereby enhance the meaning
of our lives. Bonding by discussion
helps us to understand where each is
coming from and where we are going.
It lends insight to our personal issues
and makes life's journey a little less
painful when we realize that we are not
the only one thinking and dreaming of
a better place for Black gay men to live
and love.
We are the first generation to openly
challenge society's myths about what it
means to be a Black gay man. We are
the first to realize the importance of
self-actualization and to step beyond
the fears of hatred, assault and exclu
sion by our straight Black brothers. We
challenge the accepted standards of
sexuality by living our lives as posi
tive, productive and spiritual citizens
who love our families, our community
and our country.
We challenge society's accepted
standards by shaping the perception of
younger Black males of what it truly
means to be a man. It isn't who one
sleeps with, it is what one does with his
life for the betterment of himself and
his people.
I think of a brother who said to his
nephews—who were 17 at the time and
had spent much of their lives around
him—after a basketball game,"...you
guys know the time, don't you?" They
both smiled at him, nodding affection
ately and answering, "Yeah, Uncle
Bobby, we know the time."
When I think of myself and brothers
and our movement of love I know
somehow the dream will become a
reality.