Dear Blackqueer Student: A Pride Month Letter and Reflection
Dear Blackqueer Student,
I got a hold of some truth on this journey; I am sure it is partial, yet it pertains to us, and I believe you should know. This truth is not the typical rhetoric of lies wrapped in subject matter, and I do not mean to alarm you with any of it. But as much as we illuminate “the way,” we must also give sound warning.
Before I get there, a little about the energy that speaks to you in this letter. My journey as an educator commenced in 2008, and I remember seeing you because I remember who I was in high school, the “out-gay girl.” With that came many challenges, not just for me, but for my Black Christian family and my peers who decided to call me friend. Though we did have access to the language back in the late ’90s, we all were coming to terms with the phrase, love is love and what that looked like for us. Nonetheless, when I saw you, I could not speak to you because, by the time I entered the classroom as a teacher of record, I was full of fear, cloaked in shame, and definitely not communicating, in a healthy way, with the queer parts of myself. I was programmed for survival; therefore, I obliged the binary request of wearing clothing that looked the part because my pronouns are she/her but made me uncomfortable because I was wearing a costume — I am a masculine woman.