Black Queer Nation

(black)ening [queer]ness/[queer]ing (black)ness

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J.T. Roane 2011

Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Spring Fashion for Men 2011: Part 1

Urban Gentleman

Milan Was doing a LITTLE TOOO MUCH

Style World Modern 2011

Posted by jt at 10:17 AM No comments:

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Labels: 2011, men's fashion, spring fashion

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J.T. Roane

Black and Queer, nation? by B Dolla Billy

How does one form a nation? A black queer one at that? Nations tend to be identified by territory. Being black in American we have very few if any. They are mostly ones that we simply squat on until gentrification rears its ugly head. The few we rent out for precious moments of homecoming are limited in type. Yes, we are allowed passage into certain realms. But depending on the place, the ease of the passage varies. The middle passage. Well, Gotdam. That passage was only possible with lethal, white and iron escorts, and weapons and disease escorting the escorts. But some of us made it, and made the territory we occupy, which does not belong to us. And then some of us had the nerve to be queer on top of it.

Our black queer nation is one of trespasses. It is our choice to let it be know we don?t belong and dare anyone to say something. We wear our nation, not just aesthetically, phenotypically, and sartorially, but in our social actions, inactions, and interaction. Our bodies are the sites of our nation. Islands occasionally coming together to form bigger ones. Ours is a culture that operates within others and against them. We need to dance, eat, sleep, and work too. Our mobility and our money still work.

Still, you mighta seen me in the streets but nigga you don?t know me. Game recognize game playa, and I?m in it to win it. So I will dance with your men with a chick on my arm. Don?t be mad when I deny them access to my house when I?m infiltrating theirs. I will eat at your establishment if you let me in; but if your service is bad because I?m young, black and queer, Lord knows my tip money is staying right in my pocket. I will mask what I have to, to get what I want from you without being bothered. Sometimes we just really need some brown stew chicken, rice n peas, and a beef patty. And sometimes I don?t give a shit, and will cut through your derogatory words as I walk down the block holding my girl?s hand while telling you I lay the pipe better than you ever could. I will navigate your world, but live in my own black queer nation. (In)visibility is our virtue.

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