Why Are So Many of Hollywood’s Black Gay Men Letting Us Down?

As a Black gay child who was addicted to television in the 90’s, I always felt a sense of wanting when it came to role models. Outside of RuPaul, who we’ll discuss, and the late and legendary Meshach Taylor (who I was stunned to find out wasn’t actually gay), queer Black men in film and television were a rarity. I think that’s why even though my days of looking up to complete strangers have come to an end, I’m still incredibly grateful to see the amount of progress the entertainment industry has made since the 90’s. In fact, this piece was initially going to be highlighting Black queer men in Hollywood and their achievements. However, when I began compiling said achievements, an interesting pattern emerged that I couldn’t ignore.

Most of the highest-profile Black gay men in the industry seem to have a history of problematic behavior sprinkled amongst their accomplishments.

Perhaps the most famous gay Black man in the world over the past forty years, legendary drag queen RuPaul Charles, has amassed a string of questionable moments in just the last few years. From pushing back against trans participation on his hit show, RuPaul’s Drag Race (a stance which he has since changed), to seemingly admitting that he allows the environmentally destructive practice of fracking on his Wyoming farmland, to an especially cringe inducing moment in the 2019 Emmy’s press room where he was called out by a Black journalist for his show’s lack of diversity behind the camera. But RuPaul is not alone. His protégé, formerly relevant YouTube sensation, Todrick Hall, has been accused of a litany of offenses from colorist behavior on music video sets, to not paying his back-up dancers, all the way up to sexual assault. Not to mention the drama he stirred just this past summer with some deeply bizarre tweets about slavery.

Queer Eye’s Karamo Brown has been accused of being a Trump apologist for defending Sean Spicer, the former one term president’s press secretary, during their stint together on Dancing with The Stars. This was just another example of his backwards approach to race relations as he had earlier defended a very unnecessary and tone deaf prank in which the producers of Queer Eye had him pulled over by a cop, ya know…for fun. Notorious CNN anchor, Don Lemon, famously had a “pull up your pants” moment where he essentially blamed Black men for racism. Mega-Producer of Precious and Empire, Lee Daniels, seemed similarly tone deaf when he actually pushed back against the #OscarsSoWhite movement. A movement that called for, and led to, greater diversity amongst the Academy Awards voting body. And I haven’t even gotten to the Jussie Smolett of it all yet!

I’m not chronicling these missteps (some of which inspire serious misgivings) to suggest Black queer men can’t be trusted with a platform. I’m just curious why the Black queer men with the biggest platforms often espouse beliefs that cut against the wellness of the community they belong to.

In any other demographic in Hollywood it‘s easy to point to at least two other high profile examples of someone getting it right for every one that gets it routinely wrong. For example: amongst Black queer women, for every Azealia Banks there’s an Amandla Stenberg and a Janelle Monae. Among White queer women, for every Ellen DeGeneres there’s a Cynthia Nixon and a Megan Rapinoe. But when it comes to unproblematic Black queer men with mainstream name recognition, the pickings start to get real slim, real fast.

There’s of course the man of the moment, Lil’ Nas X. While he’s certainly been controversial, the backlash he’s received is focused almost exclusively on his art. His delves into religion and taboo sex (depending on what taboo sex is to you) are no doubt carefully calculated, age old stunts pioneered by the likes of Madonna and Prince before him. But put a pin in Montero because I’m circling back to him soon. Outside of Lil Nas, there’s Frank Ocean who went AWOL on the industry sometime ago. Perhaps recent Emmy winner, Billy Porter, might get off unscathed in your eyes but I haven’t forgotten his sketchy remarks when asked what he thought about his trans costars on POSE being neglected by the same voting body that had just awarded him. It may not raise to the level of “problematic” but it’s greasy as hell.

In many of these cases I think the issue could be generational. RuPaul and Billy Porter are 60 and 51, respectively. For perspective, that’s a little older than Gen X. As they came of age, issues like trans rights (even in queer circles) weren’t discussed as empathetically as they are today. But I do think there’s another, more convincing through line here.

Most of the controversies I’ve named involve a tacit, to sometimes outright righteous, defense of whiteness.

The obvious lack of opportunity for Black queer men across the entertainment industry is self-evident and could be another excuse but what is less evident is the set of circumstances that lack of opportunity creates for most Black queers internally, especially if they’re trying to make it in this industry. Entertainment Journalist, Tre’vell Anderson, unpacked some of this in their review of Karamo’s book back in 2019.

Above all of our heads is a host of gazes that demand a performance in order to access certain spaces. And our individual life experiences, hopes, and fears drive us to choose which is more important to us: success or authenticity.

What Tre’vell is examining there is more than mere code-switching. It’s a dissonance created within one’s self that can sometimes go unnoticed if you’re a queer person of color struggling to get ahead. Back in the day it would’ve simply been called selling out.

The fact that this dissonance goes unnoticed so often is why that video of RuPaul stammering and struggling to explain the lack of diversity on the stage behind him is so suspenseful for me to watch, as I suspect it is for many other Black people. He’s being confronted, probably for the first time in public, with the sacrifices he’s had to make to get to stand there and hold that statue in his hand. Sacrifices that included putting everyone else who looked like him, and their interests, to the side as he built his empire in a white supremacist society. It’s hard to blame RuPaul, or any of the Black gay men at the top right now. To make it as a gay icon, you usually have to start with the support of gay audiences, and in case you hadn’t heard yet, the gay community is racist as fuck. So it should come as no surprise that our media is pretty racist too. Downplaying your Blackness and excusing white foolishness/supremacy is just part of the game.

But this is why Lil Nas X is so important to the culture right now. He’s blazing a new path for Black queer men in the industry. One that embraces his Blackness and his queerness in equal measure. As he told Out magazine.

[People always say] go where you’re accepted and stuff like that, but you can’t always just go where you’re accepted,” he added. “You’ve got to go and break down those walls and say, ‘This is my space now too.’

Black queer men need more than mere success, we need success on our own terms. And lucky for us, Lil Nas X is not alone.

There’s a whole new generation of Black queer men coming up who aren’t afraid to speak up for their themselves and for their community. Keiynan Lonsdale, Jeremy Pope, Jaboukie Young White and Justice Smith are all faces you may know but, more importantly, voices you will hear in the years to come.