When he was diagnosed with prostate cancer late last year, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin joined the 280,000 Black men annually identified with the disease. It’s so common, studies show, that 1 in 6 Black men will develop it during their lifetime.
On November 12, 2017, at 6:49 pm, I received a text that read: “Antron has transitioned.”
The official cause of death was cancer, but HIV was the cause. I’ve never written that publicly before, although it’s true. Antron-Reshaud Olukayode was a poet, artist, and community activist, but more importantly, he was my friend.
2017 was an important year for me as a creative. In retrospect, it’s hard to wrap my head around just how much work I was able to curate. I produced podcasts and multiple live events, shot countless photoshoots, produced a music video, co-curated an art display at the National Center for Civil and Human Rights, and even won an award.
The sexual currency and experiences associated with Black men are rarely discussed at length or with nuance. While that lack of nuance does not absolve men of their privilege, the topic does require perspective and compassion. Let us examine how the objectification of Black male bodies shows up not only in porn but also in history and our romantic experiences.
The objectification of Black men is not a recent phenomenon but extends back to chattel slavery. In a popular YouTube video, anti-racism educator Jane Elliot injects her blue eye/brown eye experiment onto a predominantly white college campus. By doing so, Elliott triggers a young white female student who temporarily derails the experiment by abruptly exiting.
“You just exercised freedom that none of these people of color have. When these people of color get tired of racism, they just can’t walk out, because there is no place in this country where they aren’t going to be exposed to racism. They can’t even stay in their homes and not be exposed to racism if they turn on the television,” said Elliott.
Bisexuality is real. Black Bisexual men exist. Andrew Gillum happens to be one of those men. The Reckoning is providing a platform to three openly bisexual Black men to amplify their truth and to take control of a narrative that has historically been steeped in misinformation and bias, and told by everyone but the men who live it.
The Reckoning spoke with two sets of Atlanta Black gay dads who are raising Black boys to discuss how Blake’s shooting has impacted the conversations they’re having as a family about police brutality, social unrest, and surviving in America when the color of your skin is perceived as a deadly weapon.
I am not a soldier in war. I do not belong to a gang in the middle of a turf battle. I am not confined to a poorly operated prison (though Trump’s America can feel like that sometimes). I’m not in the midst of a sudden global contagion. Yet, I know 20 Black men across the U.S. who died within 365 days and only a handful were reported to have died of AIDS-related complications.
