It’s pride month soon so the posts are rolling in and it is just absolutely incredible how white gays have managed to center themselves in every conversation about the AIDS epidemic.
I do not want to see literally any commentary about the AIDS epidemic that does not specifically denote how the majority of people who died and a huge reason it was allowed to rampage was because it was killing black people specifically. And to this day, more black people die of aids than all of the other demographics combined.
We only make up 13% of the US population and yet we still make up the majority of deaths and we haven’t even begun to talk about how hiv/aids has been left un and under treated in African countries due to nothing but colonialism and white supremicist greed.
So no. I don’t want to talk about the aids epidemic unless black peoples are included in that narrative.
So anyway, as a black bisexual woman gay white men can shut the fuck up.
This post is absolutely vile. I’m not going to call it anything else. I’d be happy to reblog a post about the impact of AIDS on the black community that didn’t minimize the impact on the gay community.
And don’t start with the “white gays” thing. Don’t. It was all gay men. The Reagan administration let them die because they were gay. There were people like Jesse Helms and Pat Buchanan saying they deserved to die for being gay. A relatively popular belief was that AIDS was god’s punishment for homosexuality. This applied to all gay men. White gay men were not protected from AIDS or from homophobia. Entire communities were dying.
AIDS used to be called “the gay cancer” or GRID (Gay-Related Immune Deficiency).
HIV continues to be a health crisis in many African countries and there are a lot of important conversations to be had about that, but this post is just being homophobic.
I don’t know how to explain to you that as a black queer woman I am specifically talking about the ways in which black queer people have been erased from this conversation. Y’all are not about to all lives matter this post. Please
where at all possible imma need the queers to interact w their community offline instead of thinking the internet houses the entirety of us. just…learm some history. watch some documentaries, read some books, hear from some elders. Even connect w the local community online (like over video call) in a way that exposes you to more of the community and culture than just bumblr.co so everyone has a more rounded understanding. the offline queer community is beautiful and the niche discourses over miniscule stuff you see online is not a reflection of how the community is as a whole.
it used to be that if someone thought you were also queer, they’d ask “are you family?” and we need to revive that energy as much as possible. no more interrogating people about their identities, just the solidarity that built our community.
Some trans history for trans day of visibility! Here is a poem written in 1322 by a jewish trans woman! (source andalternate translation). In case you were in need of the knowledge that yes, trans people have been around for a long, long time. [this is an english translation from hebrew]
“What an awful fate for my mother that she bore a son. What a loss of all benefit! … Cursed be the one who announced to my father: “It’s a boy! …
Woe to him who has male sons. Upon them a heavy yoke has been placed, restrictions and constraints. Some in private, some in public, some to avoid the mere appearance of violation, and some entering the most secret of places.
Strong statutes and awesome commandments, six hundred and thirteen. Who is the man who can do all that is written, so that he might be spared?
… Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead—a fair woman. Today I would be wise and insightful. We would weave, my friends and I, and in the moonlight spin our yarn, and tell our stories to one another, from dusk till midnight. We’d tell of the events of our day, silly things, matters of no consequence. But also I would grow very wise from the spinning, and I would say, “Happy is she who knows how to work with combed flax and weave it into fine white linen.”
And at times, in the way of women, I would lie down on the kitchen floor, between the ovens, turn the coals, and taste the different dishes. On holidays I would put on my best jewelry. I would beat on the drum and my clapping hands would ring.
And when I was ready and the time was right, an excellent youth would be my fortune. He would love me, place me on a pedestal, dress me in jewels of gold, earrings, bracelets, necklaces. And on the appointed day, in the season of joy when brides are wed, for seven days would the boy increase my delight and gladness.
Were I hungry, he would feed me well-kneaded bread. Were I thirsty, he would quench me with light and dark wine. He would not chastise nor harshly treat me, and my [sexual] pleasure he would not diminish
Every Sabbath, and each new moon, his head he would rest upon my breast. The three husbandly duties he would fulfill, rations, raiment, and regular intimacy. And three wifely duties would I also fulfill, [watching for menstrual] blood, [Sabbath candle] lights, and bread…
Father in heaven, who did miracles for our ancestors with fire and water, You changed the fire of Chaldees so it would not burn hot, You changed Dina in the womb of her mother to a girl, You changed the staff to a snake before a million eyes, You changed [Moses’] hand to [leprous] white and the sea to dry land. In the desert you turned rock to water, hard flint to a fountain.
Who would then turn me from a man to woman? Were I only to have merited this, being so graced by your goodness…
What shall I say? Why cry or be bitter? If my Father in heaven has decreed upon me and has maimed me with an immutable deformity, then I do not wish to remove it. And the sorrow of the impossible is a human pain that nothing will cure and for which no comfort can be found. So, I will bear and suffer until I die and wither in the ground. And since I have learned from the tradition that we bless both the good and the bitter, I will bless in a voice, hushed and weak, Blessed are you, O Lord, who has not made me a woman.
Edit (because it’s important to know): the last line is reference to a prayer said every morning by Jewish men, it being problematic is another conversation. I’m mentioning it because the author of the poem is pointing out that she had to say it, even though she felt the exact opposite.
I’m reading The Deviants War: The Homosexual vs The United States of Americaandthe entire point of gay pride as a concept comes from police raids on bars, clubs, public restrooms, etc where gays were humiliated and outed in the newspapers (sometimes with their addresses!) and had careers ruined and lives upended by being associated with perversion and vice squads and all that and they responded by going “no I’m proud” and took that pride to the streets in defiance of the huge mechanism of shame that existed to oppress the gay community into obscurity and so the fact that people are now trying to apply conservative dogma to pride parades to make them “safe for children” or in other words “safe for people with oppressive conservative values” is simply insane
