‘Now We Can Welcome Other People Into Our Spaces:’ How The Breakfast Boys Are Redefining the ‘Family Cookout’ in South ATL
Often already experienced with outright discrimination or bigoted slights because of their skin color, for a number of Black gay men, the biggest concern when coming out of the closet is not whether they’ll be able to withstand homophobia in the workplace or on the streets. Instead, many worry about the family cookout: Will they be invited? Will they be treated differently? Will their spirits be fed?
“I’ve been that guy who was afraid that being myself would cut off a certain group of people,” says Gee Smalls, who along with his husband, Juan, have lengthened the table they set out in College Park by opening the brunch spot known as The Breakfast Boys, located about a mile north of the dinner joint they opened in 2019, Virgil’s Gullah Kitchen & Bar.
“Now I realize the way I was before, it really was just projection,” Smalls says. “I think we spend so much time as young Black gay boys, or Black same-gender-loving boys, taught to hate ourselves and not be who we are. Even when we get over that hump of being out of the closet and being who we are, I think there’s still a lot of hurt, a lot of triggers there.”
“The vision expanded beyond just having a space for Black same-gender-loving men,” Smalls says. “While it’s still like a home for Black LGBTQ+ folks to come in and say, ‘Hey, this is ours,’ now we can welcome other people into our spaces.”
The well-known couple originally launched Virgil’s with the intent of filling a gaping hole in Atlanta’s reputation as a Black Gay Mecca: the lack of Black gay-owned venues where the community could gather, fellowship, and circulate dollars with a business that reflects and affirms its image. The restaurant was immediately embraced by its target clientele, but just as quickly became a neighborhood favorite among the families and businesspeople in the mostly Black city next to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.
“The vision expanded beyond just having a space for Black same-gender-loving men,” Smalls says. “While it’s still like a home for Black LGBTQ+ folks to come in and say, ‘Hey, this is ours,’ now we can welcome other people into our spaces. Now it’s like a melting pot for Black, white, gay, straight—it doesn’t really matter. We really kind of led in that way and not even intentional about it, but it’s where the space has come.”
BRUNCH & BRIDGE-BUILDING
When Juan and Gee were cooking up the concept for Virgil’s, whose food and cocktails are inspired by the latter’s Gullah Geechee heritage, they hired restaurant consultant Lorenzo Wyche, who has operated eateries in Atlanta for over two decades, including Justin’s and Social House. As soon as he identified a potential location for a new brunch spot he wanted to establish in College Park, Wyche approached the Smallses to see if they were interested in expanding their business partnership.
“When this building became available, they were the first people I called,” says Wyche, co-owner and operational manager of The Breakfast Boys. “I know their reputation, I know their business acumen, and they’re good people. For a while we’ve been talking about how the bad guys are winning, all of the evil people are getting the [rewards], especially during the last administration. They were among the few people in our community that are the good guys, and I think that’s why a lot of people get behind Gee and Juan.”
Less than two weeks after Wyche’s pitch, Juan and Gee were fully committed as investors and co-owners. And in a testament to the trio’s chemistry, the team signed contracts, secured a lease, and opened a bank account before they had even settled on a name. While they contemplated a traditional name like the Breakfast House, Wyche says they quickly settled on the moniker of the group text chat they had created to discuss the venture: The Breakfast Boys.
“I think that’s kind of why we work well together—it’s organic, we have a lot of respect for each other as entrepreneurs,” Wyche says. “A lot of times a business partnership is like marriage, you know. You kind of have to look through the other person’s eyes, and I think that we all do that and that’s why we work well together.”
Some heterosexual men might hesitate to describe their relationship with one of Atlanta’s most notable gay couples as marriage, let alone open a brunch restaurant with a homo-suggestive name. However, Wyche says his New York upbringing, prior work with Juan and Gee, and faith in the mood and meals they would create made him less concerned about any implications than his business partners were.
“They’re more sensitive to it than I am, to be quite honest,” Wyche says. “They love their community, they love their products, but they weren’t sure if this was going to be positioned as a gay brand or not. There were conversations in terms of marketing, but we said let’s just do what we do and not even think about it. Me personally, I said, ‘You know what, we’re doing a great product, great food, great service, great atmosphere—if it feels gay, if people think it’s too gay, it’s not for you; and if it’s straight and you don’t like that, it’s not for you.’”
Being recruited by a renowned restaurateur who happens to be straight was a powerful vindication for Juan and Gee, further proof that living openly and authentically does not disqualify them from being embraced by the larger community.
“They’re able to go through their challenges as a couple, their challenges as business owners, and do it with grace, so I’m blessed to learn that from them. They learn restaurant stuff and other things from me, and I learn a lot of that from Gee and Juan.”
“Here are Juan and I, these two Black men married to one another, and with the stigma of us not being able to have friendships or relationships with Black straight men, I think it’s extremely powerful for Atlanta to see us coming into partnership [with Wyche] and having a successful business together,” Gee Smalls says. “It helps bridge gaps and maybe make men—more of us as Black same-gender-loving men, and more of them as Black straight men—more comfortable with each other.”
Attaining that business success and rapport between each other can involve some uncomfortable moments, such as the derogatory and disrespectful statements Wyche heard from some community members when Juan and Gee were trying to open Virgil’s; or when a gay employee at The Breakfast Boys felt Wyche had treated him too harshly because of his sexual orientation and complained to the other business partners.
“I dealt with them like I would deal with any employee,” Wyche insists, although he appreciated what it took for Juan and Gee to bring the matter to his attention. “They got a lot to lose—for them to bring something like that to me—it could’ve sent me in a different direction, or sent our relationship in a different direction, so that was risky on their part. They could’ve just said, ‘Hey, this is just a little employee,’ but it was important enough for them to bring it up, and then how they brought it up was important. The way they addressed it was so suave and professional, and courteous, and it offered closure,” Wyche adds.
“What I’ve learned through this process is how much weight is on their shoulders. So many people are looking to them as pioneers in their community—as entrepreneurs, as a couple—and people are always waiting for people to ‘F’ up. They’re able to go through their challenges as a couple, their challenges as business owners, and do it with grace, so I’m blessed to learn that from them. They learn restaurant stuff and other things from me, and I learn a lot of that from Gee and Juan.”
MAKING IT TO MAIN STREET & BEYOND
Juan and Gee had originally hoped to open Virgil’s in Midtown, downtown, or another booming intown neighborhood, but found little hospitality for their plans. Given the success of their two restaurants—during a global pandemic, no less—the couple is now on the verge of opening another Virgil’s location in West Midtown, and a second Breakfast Boys in Conyers.
However, the owners consider it fate for them to have put down roots on Main Street, which connects College Park to East Point and southwest Atlanta—all areas that have yet to benefit from the development boom that has been concentrated in other parts of the metro area.
“What’s interesting is that most of us, Black men in the LGBTQ+ community and Black people in general in Atlanta, already live on the South Side, but we go to the city to really be able to express ourselves and do what we want to do. So to be able to provide that experience on the South Side, it really was destiny for us to be over there.”
“I always knew that Main Street was a jewel that no one knew about,” Wyche says. “It’s very progressive, it’s diverse, it’s got great architecture, old homes, it’s quaint, charming, it’s on a major [road artery] and train track to downtown. And with Virgil’s already down on Main Street, that was another plus because Gee and Juan already have an audience in this community, so why not add to that.”
News of Juan and Gee’s success has traveled far and wide, thanks in part to the couple and Virgil’s being featured on “Good Morning America '' earlier this year. However, one of the more rewarding aspects of their business ventures has been letting Black LGBTQ+ folks know they no longer have to go far from home to enjoy a night out, or to be themselves.
“What’s interesting is that most of us, Black men in the LGBTQ+ community and Black people in general in Atlanta, already live on the South Side, but we go to the city to really be able to express ourselves and do what we want to do,” Gee says. “So to be able to provide that experience on the South Side, it really was destiny for us to be over there.”
Ryan Lee is a freelance writer in Atlanta and a columnist for The Georgia Voice, which focuses on LGBTQ issues in the south.