For A Decade, CLIK Magazine Rose To Black Gay Prominence. So Why Did It End?
Before the digital explosion of Black gay blogs and social media in the mid-2000s, CLIK, a glossy full-color monthly magazine created specifically for the Black gay community dominated as the publication of choice for a decade. Co-founded by Lewis Nicholson, who served as the first editor-in-chief, and Dwight Powell, initially a publisher and graphic designer who assumed the role as editor-in-chief after Nicholson’s departure; ultimately becoming the magazine’s longest-running editor and the personality most widely associated with the magazine, CLIK quickly became a Black LGBTQ+ staple.
The inaugural issue of CLIK launched in Houston, Texas in May 1998 as a Playbill-sized magazine with the former spelling CLICKQUE. Powell tells The Reckoning that in its early days, there was a perception of CLIK solely being a bar magazine as it was widely distributed in nightclubs in Montrose, Houston’s gay neighborhood.
“At the time, that's where all the publications were,” he says. “A few were in mainstream bookstores. Obviously, they were also in gay bookstores, which there were so many back then.”
But according to Powell, there were no magazines available in Montrose or specifically at “Rascals,” Houston’s single Black gay bar (at the time) that reflected the lives of its clientele.
“At the time in Houston there were just a few [LGBTQ+] publications, but they didn't cater to us or serve our demographic,” Powell says. “And so that was something that I found was a need. It wasn't even anything [I did to] make money or to have a second job. I just love designing. I wanted to provide something for the community that I thought was needed. It was full color. It was glossy. And it was something nobody had seen before for our demographic.”
“At the time in Houston there were just a few [LGBTQ+] publications, but they didn’t cater to us or serve our demographic. And so that was something that I found was a need. It wasn’t even anything [I did to] make money or to have a second job. I just love designing.”
CLIK was the shiny new object that Powell presented to an underrepresented and often ignored community. And like a moth to a flame, Houston’s Black gay community flocked to the magazine.
“Back then, remember, we didn't have anything that we have now. We didn't have the internet. Social media didn’t exist. So it popped really fast,” Powell says. “The magazine was glossy, and color was a big thing. So for Houston, it clicked fast for people because it was done very well. Folks recognized themselves in the magazine.”
The final few pages of each issue were reserved for photos of community events, including swimwear, ball, and drag photos.
“Those were local people that were in the community. And by showcasing them in the magazine, they became celebrities,” Powell says. “I realized that one of the key ways of getting support for the magazine was having folks that lived in the city in it.”
But in the late 90s, before the LGBTQ+ movement had achieved widespread social acceptance and many of its current legislative wins, Powell says getting a person of color to appear in a gay magazine was nearly impossible, but CLIK became the exception.
“Putting somebody in or somebody wanting to be in a gay magazine did not happen, especially a person of color. That didn’t happen,” he says. “We found that people didn't mind being a part of it because it was something new. It was fresh, and it was done tastefully.”
A native of Nassau, Bahamas, Powell discovered his passion for graphic design as an undergraduate student at Florida State University, which led to a job in design with “Homes & Land Magazine.” Desiring a fresh start, Powell accepted a promotion to run the Houston franchise and relocated from Tallahassee with his two chow chows and only the belongings that could fit in his car. But his stay in the Lone Star state would be short-lived.
“I knew that eventually, the magazine would need to be in Atlanta. That’s the gay mecca of everything,” Powell says.
And with the overnight success of the magazine, Powell set the goal of being fully operational and for the next issue of CLIK to be printed for distribution during Labor Day Weekend 1998 in Atlanta.
‘CLIK Was Everywhere’
“That particular magazine [issue] was ready for “In The Life Atlanta,” Powell says, referring to the former longtime organizational arm of Atlanta Black Pride.
“We were their featured publication. All the ads for Pride were in the magazine. And that's another reason why it popped so fast. Because nationally, Atlanta made it happen. If a club advertised in CLIK, it just confirmed to the community that it was a club that you should be going to. And so folks began to trust the magazine quite a bit.”
CLIK’s presence beyond nightclubs or spaces often frequented by Black queer patrons also increased. In a short time, Powell tells The Reckoning that CLIK was everywhere.”
“Every gay bookstore in this country had CLIK Magazine.” All the nightclubs had CLIK Magazine. One of the greatest achievements, I think for our demographic, we were in Barnes & and Noble and Borders. That was a proud moment for me,” he says.
The cover choices for CLIK, which ranged from beautifully chiseled models to the late author E. Lynn Harris, the cast of the groundbreaking series “Noah’s Arc,” to gay filmmakers Maurice Jamal, Quincy LeNear, and Deondray Gossfield, to the unforgettable dueling covers of Jonathan Plummer and author Terry McMillan after their public divorce and infamous Oprah Winfrey Show interview following Plummer’s coming out as gay; Powell’s editorial decisions and lack of experience in this area were often met with criticism.
“I think folks didn't like the fact that we didn't showcase every body type in the community,” he says. “They were always statuesque, muscle body types. I was intentional in doing that. I know what draws people in. And that's not to say that we didn't have all the other things in the magazine, which we did. I think we covered the entire community. If you want folks to pick up the magazine, we want ad sales, we want the magazine to be successful—we have to give people what they want and what sells,” Powell adds.
But that wasn’t the only criticism. A memorable letter to the editor from “Noah’s Arc” actor Doug Spearman where he urged the magazine to “tighten up” after printing a feature story rife with grammatical errors served as a megaphone for similar complaints by many readers. A graphic designer by trade, Powell tells The Reckoning that becoming the magazine’s editor-in-chief “wasn’t my forte or something that I was even comfortable with. It was just something that had to be done.”
“We had quite a few errors. We had spellcheck and all those different things, but I would take all of that on me,” Powell says. “Those were valid critiques. Even today, sometimes, I can go read through them and see the glaring errors just shooting back at me. And so it wasn't a good reflection on our community. Honestly, I think people glossed over it and understood that we were still trying to do our best with the limited resources that we had,” he says.
Anthony Richardson, a chef based in Las Vegas, had a monthly subscription to CLIK. He tells The Reckoning the magazine had a profound impact on the possibilities he viewed for himself as a Black gay man.
“I grew up in a small town and even though I knew other Black gay men existed, I felt alone. The only representation I saw was on TV of the hairdresser or fashion designer or best friend,” Richardson says. CLIK Magazine showed me businessmen, artists, educators, etc. It showed me I could be Black and gay (and open about it) while still pursuing my career and life dreams.”
“I was in college when I read CLIK for the first time. I was so impressed by the quality of the content and the look and feel of the magazine that I did my senior capstone project about the past, present, and future of Black Gay Media.”
John Torrence, Host of the “In My B.A.G.” podcast, studied media publishing in college and credits CLIK as his inspiration for exploring the discipline.
“I was in college when I read CLIK for the first time,” Torrence says. “I was so impressed by the quality of the content and the look and feel of the magazine that I did my senior capstone project about the past, present, and future of Black Gay Media.”
Atlanta-based journalist Anare V. Holmes is one of many Black writers, myself included, that Powell offered an opportunity to write for CLIK.
“I began a working relationship with Powell and CLIK as the magazine had recently changed its format and editorial direction,” Holmes says. “I enjoyed crafting compelling narratives for CLIK that revealed the multi-dimensional ways of being that exist for Black same gender loving and queer men.”
“There are so many people that wrote for us, you being one of them. You went on to do amazing things—Jasmyne Cannick, Keith Boykin, Clay Cane, Rashad Robinson— CLIK provided an outlet for people to showcase their talents,” Powell says. “That's one thing I've also been very proud of because I felt like maybe I was also a part of their success.”
The End of An Era
In November 2006, two years before CLIK Magazine would officially cease publication, the Egyptian Ballroom inside Atlanta’s Fox Theatre was transformed for the CLIK Honors, an awards ceremony honoring the top 25 Black queer individuals across various disciplines. Filmed for television, but never aired, Powell holds the historic footage of the one-time event that he originally intended to be annual before the folding of CLIK became certain.
“We were able to assemble at the time, and I say at the time because they weren't necessarily the best ever, but they were the best at the time,” Powell says. “You had Phil Wilson, E. Lynn Harris, Keith Boykin, we even had Billy Porter. Although it only happened one time, it happened in a very classy way.”
This is why the success of CLIK Honors along with the long-running success of the magazine left its loyal following confused when Powell announced that CLIK would end as a monthly magazine in 2008.
“As with everything, all good things must eventually come to an end. Yes, Clik Magazine has reached the end of the road that it’s been traveling since May of 1998. I am elated to say that our job here is done,” Powell wrote on CLIK’s website.
"Publishing this magazine has been a dream come true; to honor, recognize, uplift and highlight the Black Gay Experience in America. This magazine came OUT around a time when Black Gay men were ashamed, in hiding, and greatly underrepresented. After ten years, all of that has changed.”
A major change that Powell says didn’t make sense for him to continue publishing the magazine was the dramatic shift from print to the surge in digital media, specifically the ability for popular Black gay blogs to publish stories instantly, whereas it would take a month for readers to receive the information from the magazine.
A Moment In Time: CNP Tribe at the CLIK Honors (2006)
“I knew that CLIK was really on the way out because media had changed,” Powell says. “Everybody was moving to the internet. And so, even with me wanting to take CLIK to the internet, it wasn't very feasible because our cost didn’t change. We still have to pay photographers. We still have to pay writers. We still have to pay for every element of a magazine. From a cost perspective, it wasn't viable to bring it online because the advertisers didn't follow us. Advertisers at that time still didn't follow from print to online the way they are now. So somebody had to pay for it. None of it was making sense. I recognized that there was still so much cost involved that didn't go away just because it's no longer being printed,” he says.
“I knew that CLIK was really on the way out because media had changed. Everybody was moving to the internet. And so, even with me wanting to take CLIK to the internet, it wasn’t very feasible because our cost didn’t change.”
Instead, Powell turned his attention to “Sizzle Miami,” a Black gay circuit party he founded in 2002.
But 23 years later, CLIK Magazine remains a source of pride for its co-founder and editor-in-chief.
“It really brought the community together in a major way—just how the internet is able to do that now, that's what CLIK did,” Powell says. “I'll always be thankful that I was able to do that for our community — bring it together as one. And for many years, CLIK did that.”
