I recently watched an episode of “Zoe Ever After,” a sitcom on BET. The subject matter is an up-and-coming cosmetics business run by a black woman. There’s a gay character, Valente. Nowadays, it’s not uncommon to see LGBT characters on TV. Out or implied, there’s a full spectrum of LGBTs in various roles from middle-class couples with children to lesbian cops on the beat. What’s interesting about Valente is he’s black. That’s rare. In a BET interview, actor Tory Devon Smith, who plays Valente, admitted the double negative of being black and gay. He also defends the character’s uniqueness, claimed his character is not a stereotype. The problem is, he is. To use the vernacular, he’s a queen. His extravagant behaviors, the lilting cadence of his speech, even his exotic name are all giveaways…and from a mile away. He is, however, self assured and virtuous, a man who is who he is. Perhaps the idea is to show queens in a positive light.
Then there’s the 2012 sitcom, “Anger Management,” starring Charlie Sheen as a prison psychologist. One of his incarcerated patients, Cleo, is a strapping black man. But, he’s just another queen. The moment he opens his mouth, it is abundantly clear, despite the macho exterior, he’s the gay guy. If there’s a positive message about LGBTs here, I’m not sure what it is.
When Diverse and Resilient (D&R), Milwaukee’s LGBT capacity-building organization serving the African American community, ran its “Acceptance Journeys” campaign, its intent was to raise awareness and acceptance of alternative sexuality and relationships. It consisted of billboards and bus signs like the Cream City Foundation’s “Gay Neighbor” campaign. In contrast, D&R’s effort never used “gay” or “LGBT” on its signage. I asked someone at D&R about that strategy. The reply was “The black community isn’t ready for that.” It seemed odd that a program designed to encourage acceptance was avoiding the vocabulary of the very issue it was intending to confront. I thought it ironic at best since it seemed senseless to dance around the obvious. How can an impact be made if one doesn’t honestly state the problem? So I asked a black friend. I expected him to dismiss the official tact for the campaign. He didn’t. He agreed, “It’s not.”
I suppose, like TV’s “Will and Grace,” stereotypes provide comfort for those who feel insecure with the notion that LGBTs can look and behave just like “normal” people. In a sitcom setting, one can sit back, watch the Stepin Fetchit antics and find gays amusing and non-threatening. But, if they are stealthy, acting just like everyone else, perhaps there is a feeling of betrayal. One might even wonder about one’s own sexuality or that of others. Using the “G-word” for public health awareness apparently amounts to the same thing.
The real downside of indulging this discomfiture is the dishonesty it encourages. In this case, it impacts our greater community’s mental and physical health. That needs to be addressed. Maybe it’s time for a “Get Over It Journeys” billboard campaign.
