Scrolling through my news feed on Facebook, I came across an article that called out to me—“Dear White Gays,” the title read. Without hesitation, I clicked, and the full title of the article unfolded. “Dear White Gays: Stop Stealing Black Female Culture.” Sierra Mannie, a senior at the University of Mississippi and author of the article, has had it with white gay men impersonating black females.
My fingers tensed and I slammed on the down arrow of my keyboard and raced through the article. Mannie states that white gay men impersonate black females, referring to themselves as “strong independent black women” with “weaves,” and big butts, and essentially create a caricature of what it is to be a black woman. Offended by Mannie’s article, I reached out to my close friends from home, who are female, black, and gay—an appropriate middle ground for the discussion—to have them join in my venting against Mannie. There was no harm or foul in referring to my hair as a weave, right? Their responses were not what I expected.
“While the author of the article is aggressive, I do believe she made a variety of accurate points” said Alyssa Hester, a recent graduate of the University of Virginia. “These men know nothing about weave, or the cultural forces that have shaped weave culture. They don’t understand that in the workplace, for most African-American women to wear their natural hair are seen as unprofessional and unattractive, and are forced to fit white-formed aesthetics.” Her words pushed me to reconsider my anger against Mannie.
There is, however, a specific portion of Mannie’s argument that is entirely hurtful and invalid. Mannie states that gay men are privileged because they have the ability to hide their sexual orientation, giving them the ability to retain their white privilege. This is in no way a luxury. Being forced to hide who you are in fear of personal safety, job security or for the sake of healthy social interaction is not an easy task. Rather, it instills the idea that it is not appropriate for individuals to be true to themselves. We can “hide” our homosexuality, but we cannot hide the pain and suffering associated with living in fear and shameful of whom we are. This is a plight that both gays, black females and many other groups of people share. There is always a part of us that is never entirely sure of our safety.
“I think people are too quick to pull the race card instead of finding the root of the problem,” said Kiara Thomas, freshman criminology major. “No white or black gay will ever understand what it’s like to be a black woman, but surely no black woman will ever know what it’s like to be a gay man, either.”
Ultimately, the problem is not that white gay men are stealing black female culture. The issue is that there are almost no positive gay role models in media. The few that do exist, such as Neil Patrick Harris and Matt Bomer, often play the roles of straight men. This is because it is not socially acceptable for men to be viewed as both feminine and powerful. Rather, feminine gay men are dismissed from being men altogether, and are instead placed in a subcategory of humans: “gay men.” For homosexuals that have more masculine personalities, excuses are often made—“He’s gay, but don’t worry, he’s totally normal. He’s one of the guys.”
This is where the appreciation for black female super stars takes place. Beyonce and Nicki Minaj emulate what many gay men pine for: the ability to express femininity, sexuality and power—without remorse. These celebrities do not apologize for the empowerment of their sexualities. They do not see their own beauty through the eyes of the rest of the world. Instead, these women embrace their bodies, their desires and their talents to form a supreme level of comfort in their own skin. In a culture filled with “bottom shaming,” the practice of belittling those who act as the receiving partner during intercourse, gay men are forced to apologize for their sexuality. If there is anything that our world has learned in recent years, it should be that the events of another’s bedroom in no way concern anyone but the specific parties involved. It shouldn’t be difficult to let an individual explore their sexual liberties without hassle.
The impersonation of black, female celebrities is as empowering to black women as it is to gay men. There is more to the appreciation of culture than twerking and weaves. Their message is to overcome adversity in a world dominated by hyper-masculinity, and that is an ideal with which we can relate.
Terry Preston can be reached at terrence.preston@spartans.ut.edu