Guest post by Milton Goosby
The “black queer” cannot claim an ontology outside of blackness….
The “black queer,” then, is a catachresis. The problem I am laying out here is not merely the impossibility of folding the black queer into humanity (humanism) or the ‘community’ of objects (internal exclusion), but whether the injury directed at this being is registered as anti-blackness at all. The prevailing problem is that the injury sustaining this catachresis is so incomprehensible that it is doubly erased, and this is what I will call
– Calvin Warren
Afro-pessimism, Queer Theory and Ethics
I am a nonmonogamous, enby, queer black fugitive. Love and acceptance, as it has been taught from a colonized perspective, damn sure don’t love and accept me.
Accepting my queerness has taken all my adult life. Being accepted is a work in progress. I don’t fit within the greater LGBT community with ease.
I have passing privilege, am male presenting, older. I also have two biracial children with my white, transmasculine, nonbinary nesting partner. As neither of us pass we are coded as a straight, albeit strange couple. We have to orbit the nebulous prefixation that has bound the gay community into particulars.
Daily shedding the sickly skin of misogynoir, battling to use the perception of my masculinity and the privilege it affords to provide space for my newfound non-men, NB and transguy comrades, I have effectively alienated myself from most of my long time friends.
This was expected, still I worried over the idea of losing that acceptance once I decided to be more public about being queer. I worried about the silence from my family turning to ostracization. I worried that excising pieces of myself meant the whole of me sliding into Oblivion.
I discovered that my various intersections all ran amok of what is acceptable.
Unspoken hierarchies became clear. I discovered that my relationship status along with my presentation was subject to scrutiny. I understand and agree wholeheartedly, considering our perilous relationship with Eurocentric settler Socialism and state violence.
We speak on it through social media daily. The multitude sings to keep the fire going.
I continue to do the work, putting all my energies into writing missives that will stoke these radical fires already burning. Not tossing my relationship around as if it, in itself, is an act of resistance.
Blessings to the myriad, majestic, multitude of bodies that push at the boundaries of queerness.
Gender, like love as we know it, is a spector of colonial settler politics.
Disidentifying with the stereotypes that have been used to ground white male fears about black super masculinity has made me even more vulnerable to the fractitious machinations that are currently rooted in capitalism. Side note, I gladly revel in the strength of my ancestors. My presentation has not changed all that much throughout my life Revelations.
While dodging the hunt at each turn, I have also learned to glide, strut, stay sexy, speak what I know, shut up and listen, love the multitude, be unapologetic about my stance.
I seek to distangle the self from colonized gender perspectives. A spiritual and psychological reformation that will allow me to reconnect with the ancestral norms that Eurocentric supremacy has effectively erased.
Black queerness for me means a heightened state of awareness. I’m not a placeholder for fetishes, affirmation of the merits of how well I can integrate into society.
This society was not built to accommodate or contain me. My very potential is a threat.
Blackness as negation of whiteness. Queer outside the bounds of acceptable or easily categorized blackness.
And I’m good with that.
Milton Goosby is a queer, pansexual, self gender disavowing author, parent and partner.
He loves unabashedly, is a sometime gamer who enjoys hard sci-fi and being black af. You can often catch him online, walking his two toddlers up to the local Bodega for snacks and Redbox or waxing philosophical.