|
| Writer and media specialist Anaré V. Holmes is a producer for WRFG 89.3 FM’s Alternative Perspectives program. He can be reached at avholmes@hotmail.com. |
|
|  |
| |
|
|
| | |
HOME > VIEWPOINT > COLUMNS
By: Anaré V. Holmes
COMMENTS |
| 
When I take to the streets on labor DAY as a first-time participant in the Stand Up & Represent March, which concludes In The Life Atlanta’s 11th Annual Black Gay Pride celebration, I will walk from a place of strength and power.
It’s taken the better part of 32 years on Earth to fully wrap my mind around the fact I can no longer be invisible in the larger community as a black gay man.
I can no longer sit on the sidelines and let others speak for me.
I can no longer watch institutions and programs — created by black gays and lesbians — continue to flounder without doing my part to lend a hand.
Maturity births the wisdom to acknowledge how the fight to eradicate homophobia and struggle to achieve human rights among all who are oppressed cannot be done alone, but through the assistance of diverse allies — transcending race, gender, class and other social constructs.
No greater movement reveals the points our lives intersect as Americans than in the struggle for civil and human rights.
A product of integration, I am a child of the dream Martin and others envisioned.
And, while the nation’s isms are still present, with access to unparalleled resources and opportunities our forefathers and foremothers could only imagine, I’m more than capable to do the work required to build up the very institutions and programs responsible for my existence.
For being allowed the chance to experience safe, open and tolerant spaces for self-expression, the least I can do is affirm the experience of same-gender-loving men and women.
So when I meet other stand up & rep-
resent participants at the King Center on Labor Day, I’ll reflect on the legacy several pioneering groups achieved to help make this city a welcoming place of refuge for thousands of African-American gays and lesbians.
These contributions — from groups including, but not limited to, the Gay Atlanta Minority Association (Theo Thomas); the African-American Lesbian & Gay Alliance (Maurice O’Brien Franklin and Edna Brown); the Atlanta Feminist Women’s Chorus (Carolyn Mobley); and the Coalition of African Descent — ushered in current community institutions such as ZAMI, In The Life Atlanta, the National AIDS Education Services for Minorities, Inc. and a host of other organizations.
The fruits of their labor are a testament to the critical mass of black gays and lesbians that reside in Atlanta and share common ground in advancing the rights, health and wellness of an underserved community — a clear advantage to living here versus other places where resources are absent.
There are dynamic men and women choosing to raise their voices to improve the quality of life for the city’s LGBTQ community of color.
These boot-strappers are filled with ambition and determination to build on the accomplishments of elders like Duncan Teague, Rudolph Carn, Mary Anne Adams, Dee Dee Chamblee, Betty Couvertier, Pat Hussain and Craig Washington, to name a few.
I see these young leaders at the monthly Second Sunday discussions, revived by khalid kamau. I hear them on the airwaves as is the case with Lakara Foster on 89.3 WRFG FM’s Alternative Perspectives. I see the work the folks over at ITLA perform to produce one of the largest Black Pride events in the world.
Atlanta black gay pride is more than party. It’s about honoring and affirming who we are. The talents, skills, abilities and contributions we’ve made in all facets of American life cannot be denied. More of us are coming out. More of us are growing into the men and women we are called to be.
As a black gay man, I’ve come to understand my place in the world and what I’ve been called to do, which is to use my gifts and abilities to build others up. Through unconditional love and acceptance from a supportive family, I was blessed to witness a father who displays courage and follows the beat of his own drum—a true man’s man. I’d like to think the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
| 
