The urgency for unity within the Black community is palpable, but the question of how to unify Black men is elusive.

In the 1984 essay "Brother to Brother: Words from the Heart," Joseph Beam wrote, "Black men loving Black men is an autonomous agenda for the eighties, which is not rooted in any particular sexual, political, or class affiliation, but in our mutual survival."

How do we come together to heal and press forward with love and intentionality?

The Reckoning wanted to start the year by convening four Black men—two queer and two heterosexual—to discuss our differences and determine a path toward unity. The conversation was intentional and hosted in a loving space that allowed the men to express themselves without limitations. 

Joining the discussion are the hosts of the Reclamation Point podcast, Dr. Ed Garnes and Maurice "Moetown" Lee, who both identify as heterosexual, and artists and activists Anthony Antoine and Joshua Henry Jenkins, who both identify as queer.

A range of topics was covered, with an understanding that we couldn't cover everything in one session, which wasn't the goal. The goal was to start talking.

The following excerpt has been edited for length and clarity.

The Reckoning: From your perspective, what's the cause of the rift, or the perceived rift, between Black gay and heterosexual men? 

Dr. Ed Garnes: I don't perceive a rift. My mother had a huge impact on my embracing of brothers who identify outside of the confines of heterosexuality. She had a [friend] named David, who was a librarian. I thought this brother was James Baldwin. So I'm like, okay, there's my father, my coaches, my uncles, and then there's David, and there are other people like David. Because he was like James Baldwin, I thought David was cool.

So, I didn't see a problem until I got to be a teenager, and I'm talking about Baldwin and people that identify like David and not having the language to say this is a gay brother. Other people had a problem with it. I never grew up with this burden of seeing my brothers as any different. But you know, I think having parents that were educators and a librarian mother— Bayard Rustin, Langston Hughes, Zora Neal Hurston—my library was queer growing up.

But being in education most of my academic career, there is a perceived rift because this masculinity project in America is so toxic that if you do not fit into certain visions of masculinity, there's a perception that we can't bond, and that is propagated and put on people in crucial developmental years before they're even able to understand for themselves. I think what drives that perception, especially in the Black community, is the Black church and other traditional stamp-of-approval institutions like education. 

Joshua Henry Jenkins: I'm gonna steal stamp-of-approval institutions because that's a phrase I need. Thank you for that because it is bigger than the church, and I think people don't call in and call out academia enough. 

I'm hung up on the word rift, too. We've seen so many folks combat those stamp-of-approval institutions or start to interrogate those things that it feels less of a rift to me these days. It feels more like an awkwardness that requires so much conversation, and no one conversation will solve it. And so it feels overwhelming in that way, but it doesn't feel impossible.

Moetown Lee: I won't necessarily say rift. For me, I think it's a lack of understanding. Growing up, I was always told, when it came to gay men, to stay away because they might do something to you. We talked about this when we did [Reclamation Point]. 

I had a godfather who was a tailor. I know I loved him. It was never a thing about his sexuality. At that time, I was too young to understand. When I hung out with him, every time I came back, it was all these questions as a kid. What happened? Did he do something? And it's crazy because people talk about that with my godfather, and a man has never molested me. A heterosexual woman actually molested me.

It doesn't help that I'm in Compton. I grew up in an old-school Baptist church, but they're telling me this is the worst thing that you need to worry about. I'm growing up with gang bangers, a family of drug dealers, drug users, and all of this, but I'm being told to stay away from my gay godfather. 

As an adult, I realized there were so many people I loved who were extremely close to me. We grew apart because they couldn't be who they were because I was like, you gay, you wrong. I'm looking around, and I see a lot of people who are like me, heterosexual Black men, who have this lack of understanding.

Anthony Antoine: I struggle with the word rift. Some of that is just about my own experience and my life. I've been having this conversation. Johnnie, I don't know if you realized that there was "Bridging the Gap," a spinoff of Deeper Love from the early-2000s when I worked at AID Atlanta, and that was born out of us sitting at work having these conversations about sex and sexuality. Many heterosexual women wanted to get in on it. Many of the heterosexual men that worked in the building wanted to get in on it. 

I labeled it Bridging the Gap, and we came up with the curriculum and did it for a couple of years. That leads to some of why I don't see it as a rift in my life. I've been out and gay since the 1990s, and going on Morehouse's campus and realizing it wasn't a problem with me being out and gay. It was the perception of everyone else, the teachers, or the old guard on Morehouse's campus. The brothers embraced me. 

The Reckoning: I also think of pop culture and its impact on us. We're in a very interesting moment. Yes, there's more queer visibility, but there's also a lot of stuff we haven't discussed as brothers. I'm curious if we have done ourselves a disservice by not having these conversations. 

Anthony Antoine: I can jump in and answer that. Yesterday I was on social media and the Kendra G Show; she has [the Singles LIVE!] show, and it was two transgender [women], twins, on the show. I love that her show allows them to have these conversations. But then, every time someone LGBT is on the show, if you look at the comments, I would stay in the closet. You have not created one safe space for me. You have told me this world is going to be vicious to me. 

When we don't have these conversations, then too many of us retreat or hide or stay in the closet or don't live our lives to the fullest.

Joshua Henry Jenkins: I think the word "tolerating" comes to mind. I think the LGBT community can own a little bit of this. Sometimes we can be afraid to get messy with it or allow folks to be messy or not understand terminologies or not understand concepts that have emerged.

This is a generational thing, as well. We have to give grace and lead with grace. And sometimes we're in a culture on pins and needles around cancel culture. It doesn't allow us to get to stronger, deeper conversations because we get hung up in the minutiae of phrases, terminology, etc. Social media is a great example. There's a guy I follow named The Conscious Lee. He does a lot of commentary on things that are happening, and I was looking at his stories or TikTok, and he constantly gets the question, 'are you gay?'

That tells me we're not as far along in the conversation as we need to be. We are [projecting] things onto him because he has the audacity to bring to the table things happening to Black queer and trans people in this country that need to be addressed. We can only get deeper once we allow ourselves to be messier with it and understand that the mess is part of the process.

Moetown Lee: Also, the platforms and the conversations need to be had like this; if you're having a conversation about Black heterosexual men and Black gay men, it should be amongst those Black brothers. Because when you start mixing in women or putting in white people, the conversation will dilute, and then you will begin missing some points. There's [specific] things you're going to go through as a Black man [in America]. As we're starting to understand and have this conversation, you start creating comfortability.

Dr. Ed Garnes:  A lack of empathy for brothers is what's happening. Understanding that even if I haven't gone through it, I am open to understanding where you are coming from, so that overall lack of empathy prevents us from loving each other. And it should not be a crime for brothers to love each other. It's certain masculine things I have to do and follow. There are particular rules [attached to] masculinity that are toxic. Because if I love on another brother, what does that say about me? 

What's funny to me is some of our leaders are the most misogynistic and homophobic, but they are always quoting from the LGBT book of thought. You're a civil rights leader, but you ain't never gonna say, Bayard Rustin? It's confusing to me. I have an appreciation for getting messy. When you have that weird, awkward moment like Joshua was talking about, that's where the growth is happening. 

The Reckoning: How do we further break down these walls that create division amongst Black men?

Anthony Antoine: For me, my accountability. I think of the one place where I still feel challenged to show up, but I still do, and that's at the barbershop. That's a hard one. My barber is straight, and when different men show up in the barbershop, I challenge myself to be authentic and engage in the same conversation that they are. Sometimes as a gay man, that's hard because it's like, 'oh, here he goes again; he's on his little gay tip.' 

And that's where it gets messy because I have to be [okay with being] uncomfortable with whatever they may think. So for me, I believe we dismantle some of these notions and some of the stigma if we just challenge ourselves to show up at all times, even when it's uncomfortable.

Joshua Henry Jenkins: I want folks to get comfortable with the fact that the work is iterative. It will take a while. People assume that one figure comes, one book comes, and one thing rattles the world so much that it just gets everybody in order. It will take a while, and the work must be intergenerational.

I also want to challenge folks. The onus is not just on straight folks to send and give love to queer folks. The onus is also on queer folks to do the work to be able to receive [that love] in a way that is beneficial to themselves and the community.

Dr. Ed Garnes: I am toying in my head with this question: How can I be of service to other gay brothers? I'm constantly evaluating what that and true allyship look like for me. One of the starting points is using conversations like this to let people know, hey, it is straight brothers that you can call on. It's straight brothers that you can have conversations with.

I want to continue to avail myself to gay brothers but also continue to be in a constant state of evolution and learning. I want to be of service, and I also want to challenge myself on how I can be better.