Laverne Cox’s viral confession sparks a vital call for nuanced, intergenerational dialogue on accountability and history in Black queer communities, beyond quick criticism or shame.

Magic Johnson celebrates 66 years of life as a person with HIV, a testament to medical progress, while highlighting persistent disparities facing Black gay men who still bear the epidemic's heaviest burden despite available treatments.

When Keith Lee’s fitness video drew sexualized comments from some men, his response highlighted a broader tension over how Black men’s bodies are policed online. Dr. Deion Hawkins argues that attraction isn’t the issue; the issue is harassment, and true queer-straight solidarity requires respecting boundaries and allowing all Black men to be carefree.

For years, Akeem Touré has used and openly advocated for PrEP, the drug that helps prevent HIV. Through his personal journey and candid conversations, Touré is challenging stigma and closing the information gap around PrEP uptake among Black men.

Mr. Loverman is a quietly stunning drama about a 74 year old Antiguan-born British patriarch who has hidden a decades-long same-sex affair with his best friend and soulmate. The story of love, regret, and longing, inside the glass closet, is told through theatrical storytelling and remarkable performances.

After surviving a near-fatal cardiac arrest during a routine surgery, Los Angeles-based physician and wellness advocate Dr. Leo Moore emerged with a renewed mission to empower Black men to proactively manage their health. His new book serves as a practical guide to screenings, self-care, and breaking long-standing barriers between men and the healthcare system.

Malcolm-Jamal Warner’s portrayal of Theo Huxtable on The Cosby Show redefined Black boyhood on television. Through Warner’s work, generations of Black boys, from all backgrounds, found permission to be complex and unapologetically themselves.

After being laid off, Everett Long navigates the uncertainty by reflecting on his values and focusing on personal growth. His journey highlights the importance of redefining success beyond traditional career paths.

Noah’s Arc: The Movie revisits the groundbreaking Black gay series two decades later to deliver a searing meditation on aging and loss centering the seldom-told experiences of middle-aged Black gay men.

Freak Twitter, a hidden in plain sight, digital space where Black queer men explore their sexuality and build supportive connections is more than just an outlet for adult content. Dr. Deion Hawkins discusses how this overlooked corner of the internet offers a unique avenue for self-discovery and connection.

Dennis Rodman was a rebounding king and a style icon. He bent gender norms in the macho NBA of the 90s, hanging with Madonna & wearing dresses. But did his flamboyance change the game for LGBTQIA+ athletes, or was it just another Rodman spectacle?

Wicked's Elphaba, played by Cynthia Erivo, shined new light on the story of prejudice and self-acceptance. In this piece, Dr. Deion Hawkins discusses how this casting choice illuminates the Black queer experience.

When Plaqueboymax’s (a heterosexual streamer) playful moment sparked talk of gay-baiting on Black Twitter, it raised tough questions about boundaries, expression, and accountability for both queer and straight communities online.

Condom use among young Black gay men is declining as fear of HIV fades, PrEP access lags, and risk is underestimated. This is raising concerns about rising HIV diagnoses and highlighting the urgent need for renewed dialogue and targeted prevention.

Craig Washington discusses his archive at the Auburn Avenue Research Library, which preserves Black queer history, honors untold stories, community, and courage.

As Black dandyism takes center stage, writer Eric Paulk explores the tradition's roots while calling for real change to address the mental health, education, and economic struggles plaguing Black men today.

As an academic, I was aware of numerous groundbreaking studies and scientific advancements related to HIV. Yet, even those actively involved in HIV advocacy outside academia were largely unaware of this research. This urgency drives me to bridge the gap between research and practice, to ensure that the brilliance of research is not confined to the Ivory Tower. 

in the Power universe, multiple Black queer characters are not caricatures or void of complexity. Instead, they are the core drivers of the plot and prompt character development for others. Their queerness is as apparent as their Blackness.

As their teammates traded pre-game handshakes at center court, Johnson, an auto plant worker’s son from Lansing, Michigan, and Thomas, a native of Chicago’s hardscrabble West Side, stepped toward one another. 

The best friends shook hands. Then they kissed one another on the cheek. 

Atlanta psychotherapist Dr. Ed Garnes wears more hats than a pub coat rack. Healer. Educator. Community activist. Writer. Podcaster.

Despite such varied, complex interests, Garnes says his professional goal is quite simple. He wants to demolish the trope that Black people — specifically, Black men — don’t look after their mental health. He wants to make therapy cool.

Despite decades spent honing his skills in New York City’s cutthroat housing and economic development arena, then taking on Atlanta’s booming housing market, Doug Jones considers himself an accidental real estate agent. He considers himself a storyteller who happens to sell real estate. 

When I was about 11 years old, my parents suspected I might be gay, and they decided to do something about it. 

I do not want to disappoint God, Mississippi, or home with this letter, but I have to disappoint God, Mississippi, and home with this letter. I am currently succumbing to evil.

As a Black queer teacher with over 10+ years of teaching across various cultures, including in the Midwest, East Coast, Appalachia, and at an HBCU in the South,  I wanted to provide a road map/examples of how teachers of all sorts can intentionally create spaces where Black queer students thrive. 

While ample attention has been given to book bans, especially recently, one aspect is, oddly, glaringly absent from the conversation- how are minority children who desire to read these books impacted by these bans?

Instead, it was a post that read “They’re having a best gay movie off” and it featured two films - Call Me By Your Name and Red, White & Royal Blue. Individuals, particularly Black queer men like myself, were stunned as the film Moonlight, which won an Oscar, was glaringly absent from the discussion (a topic for another day).

It is incredibly dehumanizing, discouraging, and demoralizing to be a 1st generation, neurodivergent Black queer man who flourished academically while others, including friends, seemed to be relegated to the shadows.

While it is important to highlight fatherhood and those who shepherd their children into adult life, we frequently forget to ask a critical question: who gets the opportunity (and privilege) to be a father if desired? For many men who identify as queer, there is a delta between wanting a child and having one.

Despite waning attention, HIV is still around, and most new cases are found in gay men ages 13-34. Of note, we know Gen Zers are between the ages of 13-27. Thus, an unfortunate and impactful storm is brewing, but we must predict the weather and prepare.

At barely 10 years old, Pierce Hand Seitz already had a leg up on other 5th graders: After getting a taste of legal proceedings during a mock trial, he was pretty certain he wanted to be a lawyer when he grew up