KuchuQwanzaa: Holiday Celebration Expands On The Original, Affirms Black LGBTQ+ Experience
Between December 2019 and May 2020, Joshua Henry Jenkins, co-creator of “Black, Gay, stuck at home,” lost two of his closest Black queer friends—Dr. Louis F. Graham, an Assistant Professor in the Department of Health Promotion and Policy at The University of Massachusetts Amherst, and Marcus R. White, an Assistant Professor of Dance at Arizona State University.
The sudden loss was incomprehensible and rippled throughout the marginalized and artistic communities in which their work was rooted, specifically, but not limited to the cities of Chapel Hill and Greensboro, where Jenkins first encountered the former romantic partners as undergraduate students at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill during the early stages of creating KuchuQwanzaa—a 7-day celebration and expression of Black LGBTQ+ cultural principles, values, and ideals that expands on the more widely known Kwanzaa celebration.
“The idea of interrogating or flipping Kwanzaa on its head to be Black and queer meant that Louis [Graham] and Marcus [White] wanted to also interject those ideologies into the name,” Jenkins says.
“Kuchu is a phrase that was coined by East African LGBTQ folks as an empowering sort of naming of self, versus, perhaps, the less than pleasant names that were being used and weaponized against them,” he adds. “And so the Kuchu is a prefix of sorts to Kwanzaa, and then they decided to also infuse queer ideology into Kwanzaa by switching out the K for Q. So that's how the name came to be.”
Jenkins tells The Reckoning that while both celebrations are rooted in family, Graham and White created their celebration with a focus on chosen family.
“We oftentimes anchor the holidays in given family, and I think they had a desire to make something that would allow for chosen family to gather and for chosen family to affirm and to love on each other and to honor those who came before,” Jenkins says.
Initially celebrated in 2009, and created as a tool of affirmation for the local Black queer community Graham and White were a part of in Greensboro, the celebration never reached its full potential and “was only celebrated for three years publicly before it fell off the radar,” according to Jenkins who assisted the founders in the early days.
“This was the birth of the little thing and it didn't really get to incubate and grow and turn into something bigger. So I came in last year and was like, oh my God, I have to preserve this so that it doesn’t go away,” Jenkins says.
After being robbed of the opportunity to say his final goodbyes in person due to COVID-19 restrictions at the height of the pandemic, Jenkins channeled his grief into repurposing KuchuQwanzaa to be practiced in isolation during COVID. He also updated an earlier 2011 WordPress blog to introduce the celebration to a new audience of Black queer folks.
“It's certainly a curriculum or a framework that they built that is meant to be done in community, but it's also something that can be done anywhere and by anyone who identifies and wants to participate,” he says.
Anchored In The Community
On the official website, Jenkins has provided a daily breakdown with detailed suggestions on how KuchuQwanzaa participants can observe each day. From planting a seed (either literal or figurative for the year) on day one, holding a conversation about issues directly affecting our communities on day two, to calling a long-lost relative or friend on day three. Jenkins tells The Reckoning that each principle is rooted in the affirmation of the Black queer experience.
“They have a principle that translates into house, which we see is like the house/ballroom culture,” Jenkins says. “And that principle, in particular, is really around nourishing and investing time and resources and building family.”
Similar to its predecessor, KuchuQwanzaa also incorporates candle-lighting, pouring of libations, symbols, a feast and gift-giving, an altar, and nine principles—two more than are found in Kwanzaa.
“The altar is a wonderful way to give visual affirmation to queer symbols as we assemble them in a way that we may be otherwise don't do,” Jenkins says.
“My altar had E. Lynn Harris books, and it had photos of Marcus and me. It had a lot of other very personal touches. I have goosebumps thinking about it because it feels very anchored in the community that I think we get to celebrate year-round, but this is a very targeted way of affirming and celebrating ourselves,” he says.
It’s also a way for Jenkins to keep the memory of his friends alive, particularly his close relationship with White, which started out very differently than it ended up.
“Marcus and I, we started out like a lot of young gay men do. We met on A4A,” Jenkins says through laughter. “This was pre-app. So we met on A4A and thought we were going to be on some hookup stuff, and we ended up being fast girlfriends and kiki’d immediately.”
The friendship continued even after White made the decision to transfer to the University of North Carolina Greensboro where he would ultimately meet Graham.
“I would hit the highway just about every weekend from Chapel Hill to Greensboro to spend time and hang out with Marcus and Louis. It became a bit of a safe haven for me,” he says.
Before his passing and at the start of KuchuQwanzaa, Jenkins says White had begun to cultivate an online community of nearly 150 people, including the original Greensboro collective that participated in the first celebration in 2009. After lying dormant for years, Jenkins now moderates the private Facebook group and hopes to introduce a new generation to the queer affirming holiday celebration as a way of preserving the legacy of his friends.
“This is a way to pass along something with their names on it in honor of them,” he says. “And the fact that it affirms and services and supports our community is the icing on the cake.”