Each February, via Black History Month, our nation has the opportunity and privilege to reflect on the legacy of Black Americans. From Google Doodles to corporate banks to federal proclamations, reaching far beyond slavery, observing Black History Month allows us to celebrate the substantial contributions that African Americans have made to The United States of America’s history, culture, vibrancy, and soul.
This April will mark the 26th anniversary of the death of R. Leigh Johnson, or Tré, as he was affectionately called by his family and those in Atlanta’s burgeoning Black gay community of the early ‘90s. A talented poet, singer, and activist, Tré (as I will refer to him going forward) was a creative force whose light was dimmed entirely too soon. Having moved to Atlanta in 2006, a decade after his passing, I’d never heard his name mentioned in activist circles, or read any of his poetry. I didn’t know that he’d once walked the same streets as I did and made it possible for me to experience the liberation and freedom that I now enjoy as an out Black gay man.
Before Lady Gaga released her gay anthem “Born This Way” in 2011, singer Carl Bean, an openly gay Black man signed to Motown Records released the soul-stirring disco gay anthem “I Was Born This Way,” 34 years before it was in vogue to be anything other than heterosexual publicly, or even an LGBTQ+ ally. The gay-affirming single, which cracked the top 20 on the Billboard charts is one of many groundbreaking achievements by Bean—the recording artist turned social justice activist and minister with deep roots in the Black Pentecostal experience, dating back to his childhood at Providence Baptist Church in his native Baltimore, Maryland.
Three is not a crowd for Que Brown, 28, Tye Brown, 26, and Martel Star, 27. The Tallahassee, FL and Mansfield, OH transplants are one of many Black gay polyamorous triads or “throuples” in Atlanta who are finding and creating healthy romantic partnerships outside of the traditional two-person monogamous relationship model. However, there is one distinction between their triad and others— these men are living and loving out loud, online and off, and are rejecting the stigma associated with polyamory that often pushes those within this relationship structure to the margins of society.
“I’m gonna get hurt.”
That’s what Deondray Gossfield, 47, recalls saying to himself in the fall of 1996 after meeting Quincy Gossfield, 46, through mutual friends. Together for 24 years and married for seven, the directing/producing duo behind the indie hit gay series The DL Chronicles, has experienced magical highs and devastating lows in their decade's long relationship—long before their nuptials were televised in front of an audience of millions at the 2014 Grammy Awards, and long before they became the public face of Black gay relationship longevity.
