Entries from March 2007 ↓

Black Gay Men at Midlife – Part 2 of a series

In the first part of our series, we met twelve middle aged Black gay men who shared stories about how they came to terms with their sexual identity and how that impacted the perception of their ability to pursue certain life goals. While their coming out process may not have been unlike that of other people before and since, put in the context of the time period when they came of age—the 1970’s and 80’s—their lives have been shaped by the conflicting influences of limited expectations and rapidly emerging change.

In Part 2, they discuss more of the experiences that helped to shape their early lives, talking now about their efforts to create social networks and the ways in which they sought out, defined and connected to community.

With whom did you most often socialize, where did you do it, and how did you define “community?’

Conrad, 43, Memphis
I often socialized with girls and women. They were safe to me as I had no real sense of how to interact with males. I saw them as a threat since I didn’t really identify with the precepts of masculinity. I didn’t belong and I wasn’t about to adventure over the fence to find out what it was to be a man by “their” standards. I don’t think I had a definition of community then. I was too busy just trying to be accepted and hoping I didn’t get rejected or embarrassed somehow because I was different. Where I associated with women was usually some private place, not public places.

Patrice, 39, Brooklyn
I was on a college campus so my socialization was among peers who were not gay but “different” I was one of the few out individuals.

Bernard, 41, Atlanta
Not sure how many questions are wrapped up here. Is the definition of community past or present tense? Is there an assumption of having already “come out” versus socializing with out or non-out people? Or is this a general question?

John, 41, Jersey City/Chicago
Once I came out, increasingly with gay friends I’d made, as well as non-gay friends I’d had before I came out, or that I made during my college and post-college years.

George, 51, New York
At first I had only a few friends from the arts and the one person I was having sex with. Soon my sexual partner introduced me to other men and I began going to parties and meeting more people. Some of my friends took me to “Better Days” and my life changed so much because I meet so many new people from so many walks of life and really enjoyed the diversity of community. This was in the mid to late 70’s and life was very different and the club scene in NYC was amazing. I was meeting people all over the city but had my close friends for support and talks. The arts, theater, fashion and dance communities were my community.

Mark, 46, Harlem
I primarily socialized with gay-identified black men in bars, clubs, on beaches, around schools, or at parks. I defined community as a caring environment where folks ‘looked out’ for each other.

David, 46, Harlem
I didn’t socialize with anyone. I was the eldest man-child, so I took on the “responsibility” of caring for my younger siblings, while my mother worked (product of a single-parent household). I went to school, came home, and then read a lot. I had no sense of “community” until I followed two white, gay men off the “B” train one day from school at West 4th Street and landed on Christopher Street, and the rest is history. I was seventeen or eighteen years of age, and it was either 1977 or 1978. Prior to that, the “out gay men” were often drunks, flaming drag queens, and like John Amaechi’s latest book, Man in the Middle, thirty-years later, I too often felt as if I was in the middle of both worlds (gay and straight), and not from a sexual stand-point, but rather from a social and emotional stand-point. I’ve grown up around a lot of “straight” family and extended family members, so my perception of how the world operated was from their value system. Unfortunately, it has taken me over thirty-years to realize how wrong they all were in so many ways.

Robert, 40, San Francisco
I was curious about other young gay people therefore I searched my community for those individuals. There were none. The Gay University group at the student union saw fit to start one.

Cordell, 41, Albany
When I was in high school, my best friend Wanjiru, her friend Nicky (a flaming queen), Steven (who thought no one knew he was gay), and William (who used to organize fashion shows) were the kids I used to hang out with. Later on, while in college, I socialized with the gay professors and staff persons. I never did feel comfortable around straight men or women because I always felt different from them and that I didn’t share the same interests that straight men did (i.e. pussy) and although I was comfortable enough to spend time around women, I was always afraid of being “hit on” and them finding out my secret. So to avoid this, I either hung out with gay men and lesbian women or by myself.

James, 43, Oakland
I was about 15 years old when I strolled into one of the cruising parks on Chicago’s south side. Of course, at that age, everything was new and thrilling. This became a regular hangout for me. I made friends socially and sexually. I also started making friends in my neighborhood. Surprisingly, there were quite a few gay men in my neighborhood. They were all very nice people and looked out for me since I was young and a bit of a square.

Jaleel, 42, Decatur
From what I can remember, through my high school years I hung out with my female friend and her brother. We didn’t do much because we (or I) didn’t know anything about the gay community in New York City in Greenwich Village at the time. We would speak on the telephone a lot and occasionally visit each other’s home and neighborhoods, but that was it. At that time, I knew nothing about a gay “community” and so defining it wasn’t even in my purview.

Reggie, 46, Baltimore
Had a few friends, but not very many, in high school. More in college, and even joined a fraternity, but still managed to be the loner at the party. I have more friends and am more open after coming out.

In what ways did you (or did you not), feel connected to a gay community of any kind?

Conrad, 43, Memphis
I didn’t feel connected to a gay community. I didn’t even know what that was as it implies some organized or central place. I think the closest thing I could associate where there was the presence of more than just one “sissy” was church and I wasn’t a big church going person.

Patrice, 39, Brooklyn
I felt disconnected in the beginning because I did not really know how to negotiate the community so at first there was no connection to the black gay community. So there was very little knowledge of how to make links.

Bernard, 41, Atlanta
There was no gay community of any kind where I grew up.

John, 41, Jersey City/Chicago
I felt strongly connected to other LGBT people, especially Black gay people. I became involved with Black gay organizations in the various cities I lived in, and made many good friends through them. In terms of the wider American gay community and international gay communities, I also actively engaged with and established some connections, though I found that racism, classism, and other social and political issues tended to keep direct ties to the wider (predominantly white) gay community tenuous at times.

George, 51, New York
I was young and had acceptance from my family and close friends so I felt it was easy to be in the community and be openly gay. Not until I met people who had to sneak out and lie who they hung around with did I know how challenging and hard some folks had it.

Mark, 46, Harlem
I never felt connected to a gay community because I sensed hostility, jealousy and mistrust among many gay-identified men. I resented the expectations of being feminized. I longed for brotherhood, cultural affirmation and genuine intimacy. I was unaware of diverse ways of healthy expression and/or socialization.

David, 46, Harlem
I had grown-up with three drag queens as extended family members (in 1960’s), but they were over the top for my mind to completely understand, although now at my age, might have been “best of friends”. But at the age of 7, 8 or 9, I didn’t think they were respected, but rather put-up-with, and unfortunately the burden of that caused them to lose their lives to drugs, drinking and death at an early age. Just when I was reaching the age of 12, 13 or 14 they were gone. So I turned into a homebody to avoid the pit-falls that I witness them go through.

Robert, 40, San Francisco
I believe I was disconnected due to my social and financial status. I didn’t let that stop me from trying to find that magical place called community.

Cordell, 41, Albany
I really was not even aware that there was a “gay community” until was in college for graduate school at Ohio State. There I participated in a gay men’s support group. But even then, I would not have called that a community. I wasn’t aware of such an existence until I came to Albany, New York in 1992.

James, 43, Oakland
I felt connected in the respect that we were young and gay but yet I felt disconnect in many ways because I did not drink, smoke weed, or turn tricks like some of my friends back then. I was definitely the odd man out but I wanted to fit in yet not willing to do those things.

Jaleel, 42, Decatur
I never thought about feeling connected to any gay community because I didn’t know that a community existed. I only felt connected to my friends, at that time.

Reggie, 46, Baltimore
Oddly, one of the reasons I told myself I WASN’T gay was that I was not like the long-haired, flowing-robe wearing male neighbor I had growing up. Gay = “Queen” and since I wasn’t, then I couldn’t be gay. I feel/felt more connection with what might be termed “micro-communities”–black and gay; leather/SM folk; black gay leather SM folk :-)– than with the larger and still overly white “gay community.” Having said that, I appreciate the space they have created in most cities, and enjoy going to the Gayborhood where ever I am, just to let that aspect of myself breathe a bit.

Tomorrow, Part 3: Friends and Lovers

Black Gay Men at Midlife – Part 1 of a series

They are part of the Baby Boom generation. Born between the mid-1950’s and the late 1960’s, the oldest were in elementary school during the March on Washington in 1963, the assassinations of Malcolm X (1965), Martin Luther King (1968) and the birth of the modern gay rights movement touched off by the Stonewall Riots in 1969.

Some had already become aware of their true sexual identity by the time the American Psychiatric Association declassified homosexuality as a mental illness in 1973, but make no mistake, the world was a vastly different place in those days. Calls for tolerance and equality, taken for granted now, were few and far between then, and a Black gay male child growing up in the world had neither assurance nor expectation of support from anyone in any quarter.

Just as many of these men were coming of age and growing in their own self-awareness, HIV/AIDS arrived, in the early 1980’s. This generation of Black gay men would lose literally thousands of their peers to the pandemic, but they would also be on the frontlines of activist efforts to do something about it. Most of the Black gay national and local organizations for health and social support were started, if not by this generation, then by those who came just before them, during their youth, and with their active participation.

As time has passed, personal and social priorities have shifted. America has always been a youth-oriented culture and the gay community is no different. People once vital and valued members of the community, may now struggle to find connection or may willingly choose to pursue interests less singularly focused. Older, but with lives no less vibrant or purposeful, these men must now redefine themselves at midlife.

* * *

This is the first in an on-going daily series on this blog where I will feature the thoughts and opinions of a diverse group of Black gay men. I sent a lengthy questionnaire to a large group of people. These 12 took the time to respond, for which I am grateful. The results are what I believe to be an interesting snapshot of a population not often heard from or studied; middle aged Black gay men.

They were born and live in different parts of the country, have different backgrounds and experiences, but also share many commonalities stemming from the period when they were born and the times we live in now. I have identified them only by their first name, age and the cities where they now live.

The series will focus on their past coming out and social experiences, their lives in the present, and their vision of the future. To start, I asked them all to begin at the beginning.

When and how did you acknowledge to yourself an attraction towards men? How did you first begin to seek out others with whom you could explore these feelings?

Conrad, 43, Memphis
I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t attracted to the same sex. I acknowledged early on in my life, probably just before puberty. I didn’t really consciously seek out others until I was in college. I wasn’t even sure what it was that I was feeling and that there might be something to what I feel more than a passing fancy.

Patrice, 39, Brooklyn
I was a teenager in another country and my playmates were my age and we were attracted to each other. We sought each other out during games of cowboys and Indians.

Bernard, 41, Atlanta
Between 8 –10 years old. Playing around with other kids my age.

John, 41, Jersey City/Chicago
Consciously somewhere between the ages of 9-11. I began to explore the fact that I might be gay while I was still in high school, and then came out, partially, while I was in college. I had my first gay sexual experiences and boyfriends while in college, and also made my first contacts with the larger gay community during those years.

George, 51, New York
I resisted the feelings at first, I was about 19 and a friend of my sister approached me. He was the first man that I did anything with but he was also much older than me and helped me understand some things and talk my initial concerns out. I also had some close friends who were conflicted about their attraction to men so eventually we confided in one another. I knew some gay people from school and other activities but didn’t feel we had much in common at first.

Mark, 46, Harlem
I was an innately curious child and remember being fascinated with male genitalia around the age of seven, starting with my younger brother. I had neither a desire nor an intention of being sexual with him, and never crossed that familial boundary. We shared the same bed as kids and I remember aiming a flashlight directly at his penis when he was sleeping. I also remember staring at boys my age and not understanding why, especially since it appeared other boys my age were expected and/or supposed to be looking at girls in a similar way. I never shared these feelings with anyone, for many years, until I started going to gay bars and clubs in my early 20’s. I expected to identify with others, yet always felt alienated, different and unique. I was deeply terrified of being exposed, humiliated, rejected and shamed, even in environments designated for safety, security and socializing.

David, 46, Harlem
I had to be around the age of six or seven (e.g., 1967). My “confusion/stage of experimenting” or connection was around the age of nine with a brief encounter with a friend, and then again at the age of twelve with a friend. But it wasn’t until I had turned nineteen that I had my first “encounter” and then learned quickly about lust, love and rejection.

Robert, 40, San Francisco
During my adolescence.

Cordell, 41, Albany
I had knowledge of my feelings for men when I was in the fourth grade and was interested in a boy named Claude. I never did acknowledge those feelings to him. It wasn’t until I was in the 5th grade that those feelings grew stronger with the number of crushes that I had on boys (Jeff and Albert) among the many. One summer I went to sleep away camp and my roommate, who was this crazy Puerto Rican who used to sneak out during the night to go swim in the pool, crawled in my bed. The girls use to sneak in the boys’ rooms and they caught us in bed together (I have no remembrance of what we did; I just remember being “caught.”) I didn’t actually act upon my feelings towards men until I was 16 and in high school and met another boy who shared the same feelings I did.

James, 43, Oakland
I was nine years old and I initiated relations with my two older cousins (10 and 11.) We called it practicing for the girls. It went on for a few years. At 11, our family moved away so I was always excited when we came back home and I could see my cousins. It ended when I was nearing 14. They were more into girls and I was not.

Jaleel, 42, Decatur
I remember being in the 4th grade and having a crush on two boys. I didn’t know at the time that I was attracted to them. All I knew was that I wanted to be around them all the time. As an adult I realize that that must have been my first acknowledgement of my attraction to boys.

It was probably in high school that I first began to seek out others with whom I could explore these feelings. I remember my best friend (at the time) coming to me and asking me if I had feelings for males like she had feelings for girls. I was ecstatic when she broached the subject because it had been bottled up inside of me for so long. For days (probably for the rest of the school year) afterward we would exchange “crush” stories.

Reggie, 46, Baltimore
Hmm…probably had my first strong attractions in high school: 15-18. Didn’t do anything about it, basically ran away from it. Tried to rationalize/intellectualize it into something other than what it was. Didn’t come out and explore until I graduated from college (age 23)

In what ways did the awareness of your sexual orientation affect how you perceived your ability to achieve your life goals and dreams?

Conrad, 43, Memphis
It made a serious impact. I remember not wanting to play sports which I was told I had the build for as a boy because I was certain my attraction to other boys would come out. Looking back on my adult life, I realized that my sexual orientation was the reason I choose not to do some things in my life. I choose to be less daring in pursuing other possibilities for my life including singing or artistic endeavors. I thought there were just certain things a “gay” man did not do like play sports; a real boy shouldn’t have a high voice when he sang, etc.

Patrice, 39, Brooklyn
Academically there was no issue and sports were no problem but inside there was always a feeling of inadequacy about my abilities across the board. So I was my own worst enemy when it came to feeling I was able to do things as well as others.

Bernard, 41, Atlanta
None.

John, 41, Jersey City/Chicago
I think my acknowledgement that I might be gay made me very fearful of how my life might turn out, in part because I was raised as a Roman Catholic, and was constantly taught that homosexuality was a terrible sin. On the other hand, my mother and other relatives always encouraged my intellectual and artistic pursuits, so I did have regular, positive reinforcement that I could achieve things in my life.

George, 51, New York
I tried not to let it affect my goals originally, but because I was involved in the arts, and it didn’t seem to make a difference, except for the fact that many people thought that because of my relationship to the arts, I was more available than I was. I soon learned to embrace who I was and integrate my gayness into the rest of my world.

Mark, 46, Harlem
As a kid my dream was to play centerfield for the Chicago Cubs. I stopped believing in myself after I failed to make my high school varsity baseball team as a freshman. The awareness of my sexual orientation was not a factor at age 14. A decade later, I became interested in acting and modeling, yet I never felt my sexuality would hinder my progress, even though I lied by omission about the true nature of my feelings for men, particularly since my (first) partner and I both lived and worked together. I do remember feeling I’d lose someone and/or something if somebody knew the truth about my orientation. I didn’t trust my truth, so self-deception and rationalization became my internal allies.

David, 46, Harlem
Since an early age, I’ve learned that I had to mind my manners, mind my behavior and actions thus it wouldn’t bring additional attention to my also being gay. Therefore, I lived a very shy and reclusive life until I turned eighteen. I held my goals and dreams at bay, for what I wanted to do since an early age, also had a stigma attached to it, for example: play the piano, dance and write . . .Yet, no one told me about the legacy of Duke Ellington, Stevie Wonder or even Billy Strayhorn, James Baldwin, Alvin Ailey and so many others. I was associated with wanting to be white, wanting to talk white . . . the usually internal Black, crab in the barrel mentality. It wasn’t until Michael Jackson and Wesley Snipes danced through New York City subway stations for the “Bad” video, that black boys started thinking it was cool to dance.

Robert, 40, San Francisco
I tried to make sure I could either accomplish my goals and dreams first and all else was secondary.

Cordell, 41, Albany
While in college, during my junior year, I felt called to the ministry. However, knowing that I was a homosexual and not wanting to “ruin” other people’s lives (i.e. a wife and children), I felt that I couldn’t realistically follow that calling. Later on in life, I wanted to become a father. I wanted my own biologically created children and for years, felt that that would never happen because of my sexuality and unattraction to women at that level.

James, 43, Oakland
I was/am a geek so I was pretty driven in my youth and very competitive. Being gay and the world knowing it was important to me when I first started working at 18. I am not sure if it was the crowd I ran with at the time or the desire to be loved but I was much more open about it then than I am now. I am certain it had some impact on my career.

Jaleel, 42, Decatur
Oh my! My awareness of my sexual orientation certainly affected the route to my desired goal. Someway, somehow I knew I had to push harder and do more than my heterosexual counterparts. I don’t remember this being a conscious thought. I just knew I wanted to be more than they could ever be and that meant committing myself to my desired goal. Being called “faggot” and “sissy” and any other name they could conjure up was the fuel I needed to eventually over shadow them. I remember being in the High School chorus and being offered a chance for a solo. Well, I auditioned and got the solo. I remember wanting that solo sooooo bad because turning it out meant gaining a whole new respect from my schoolmates who had made my high school experience difficult. On the night of the performance (and the next afternoon) I had a sore throat and couldn’t hit the high notes. But for the performance I truly turned it out. I hit every note. I’m not sure where the voice came from, but it came. Keep in mind this was the spring concert, very close to the end of the school year. For the rest of the school year people would stop me in the halls and congratulate me on a job well done. I had finally earned their respect and suddenly my “gay-ness” was not the first thing they saw when they looked at me. I don’t remember ever being as proud of myself. I proved to myself (mostly) that I could be more than a “faggot” or a “sissy”. I proved that I could do and be anything I wanted.

Reggie, 46, Baltimore
I think it may have made me more reticent, less willing to put myself out there, out of fear that someone might learn that I was gay. I was in the military (US Coast Guard) and part of the reason I decided not to go to Officer Candidate School was because I didn’t want to spend a lot of time hiding/closeted. I had other reasons for that as well, but that was a major one.

Tomorrow, Part 2: Seeking Community

By: SPENCER COX AND BRUCE KELLERHOUSE, PH.D.
From GayCityNews

New data released by the New York City Department of Health shows that the highest rates of new HIV infections are among gay men 35 to 49 years old. These findings are alarming and, to some, perplexing.

Why are so many mid-life gay men who were able to avoid HIV infection for so long now taking risks that are exposing them to the disease?

We believe that one common thread runs through most of these men’s life histories - they came out and/or lived during the death-saturated culture of the 1980s and early to mid-1990s.

Mid-life gay men have lived most of their adult lives during the worst of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, experiencing the loss of partners, friends, and people in their community. As witnesses to so much illness, death, and loss, their voices have seldom been heard and their needs largely overlooked. Having once been the activists, caregivers, and volunteers for our community, many mid-life gay men now feel invisible and isolated. Not only lives were lost, during this period, but entire social networks and ways of living disappeared too.

The traumatic effects of AIDS-related losses were closely studied between 1988 and 1996. By 1988, gay men had already on average lost six lovers, friends, and/or family members. Researchers have shown that people who had more experiences of AIDS-related loss also had higher levels of traumatic stress response symptoms and recreational drug and sedative use.

However, almost no effort has been made to study the long-term impact of the AIDS epidemic on mid-life gay men, or to determine whether current elevated levels of risk-taking behaviors in gay men are related to the trauma of surviving one of the worst epidemics in our history. That lack of attention may now have come home to roost - in rising rates of risky behavior that are secondary to the effects of unprocessed traumatic responses to decades-old losses that haunt our daily conscious and unconscious lives as mid-life gay men.

Friendships have been shown to play an important role in health maintenance and in provision of care during poor health. The relationship between friendships and health is particularly important for gay men, for whom social networks often take the place of missing biological families. Conversely, many health problems that are now common among gay men are made worse by loneliness and lack of social opportunities.

Having survived the HIV pandemic, urban gay men in mid-life may be particularly vulnerable to the negative effects of decimated social networks. Difficulty in making and sustaining relationships is a characteristic effect of traumatized people. The normal stresses associated with mid-life, together with the lingering effects of loss associated with survival through the epidemic, may make it difficult for these men to create and maintain new groups of close friends.

Furthermore, gay men have high levels of depression and anxiety disorders, another characteristic of people who have survived trauma. Studies estimate that gay men have about twice the levels of depression than are found in Americans generally. Depression is strongly linked to high-risk behavior, including drug use, alcoholism, and risky sex.

The methamphetamine epidemic that has swept through urban gay communities also contributes to high levels of new HIV infections. A recent study from the Los Angeles Gay & Lesbian Center, which offers HIV testing, found that one in three new HIV-positive tests was associated with meth use. About one in 10 gay men in New York City report recent meth use.

In some ways, gay men in mid-life are at the center of a “perfect storm,” in which multiple problems converge to create a very high-risk environment.

Dr. Ron Stall, one of the leaders in studying gay men’s health, has shown that different kinds of psychosocial problems, such as depression, drug use, and partner violence, interact to create higher levels of risk for HIV - in other words, the more psychosocial problems that a person experiences, the higher their risk of getting infected.

We can’t just address these problems independently, but need to understand the dangerous ways they work together.

If we are to lower HIV infection rates for this population, we need a renewed focus on HIV prevention for gay men. Many of our AIDS organizations are missing in action when it comes to gay men. They’ve assumed that, because we know how to have safer sex, their job is done. But these data show that the problem isn’t lack of information.

Handing a 45-year-old man another safer sex brochure just isn’t going to do the job. We urgently need to create programs that directly address the real reasons that gay men engage in high-risk behavior.

Our AIDS organizations need to be experimenting with new programs and new models to prevent HIV infection, but most of them are nowhere to be found.

The development of effective treatments for HIV disease has given many of us a new lease on life. But if we are to make the most of this opportunity, we will have to understand the legacy of this plague - what it has done to us. We owe that much to those who fought and died, and to those of us who are fighting and have survived.

Spencer Cox is the founder and executive director of the Medius Institute for Gay Men’s Health. Bruce Kellerhouse, Ph.D. is the co-founder of HIV Forum and a psychologist in independent practice.

I’ve been tagged!

What main lesson have you learned in the month of February?
Obviously this meme has reached me a bit late. In February, I learned that just because you get your taxes done early (the first time in ages), doesn’t mean you’re getting money back.

What bad habit do you want to rid yourself of this month?
Poverty. It’s a dirty, filthy habit I must stop now.

What are your favorite muses?
Sleeping. Honestly. Some of my best ideas come to me in the form of dreams.

Name one thing UNIQUELY DIFFERENT that you recently discovered about yourself?
Uniquely different? I don’t know how uniquely different it is, but I’ve discovered that you sometimes have to face reality and make compromises that in the long run will make it easier to achieve the things you want.

What is your definition of passion vs intimacy?
How do I distinguish between the two, you mean. Passion is spontaneous, intense and very often shortlived. Intimacy grows over time, expresses real closeness and there is a desire to make it last.

What are you vibing too?
Nothing at the moment.

What are your favorite gadgets?
Poverty has inhibited my ability to satisfy my love of new gadgets, but I love my computer and particularly the iChat capability.

What would be a perfect date with the person you’re thinking of right now?
I’m not thinking of anyone right now.

Last book read?
Read, as in finished the book? None. But I have at least a dozen books in various stages of unfinished reading.

What would you re-name it based upon your perception of the storyline?
N/A

How many times a day do you look at your blog or the blogs of others?
Too many. I use Bloglines as my RSS aggregator so I know when all my favorites have updated.

Who’s your favorite blogger or spot you find lurking around most often?
Why Bejata.com, of course. LOL

If you were to live as the opposite sex for the day what name would you give yourself?
What makes you think I haven’t already? Just kidding. I don’t know, but I’m sure others could easily come up with one for me.

Describe yourself in 3 adjectives?
Resourceful, organized, irreverent.

One goal you set for yourself for the month of March?
To find a new job.

Oh, tag yourself, if you feel like it.

Beginning this Sunday, March 25, I’m going to do something different on Bejata.com. I have planned a multipart series to explore what life is like for Black gay men in middle age.

Middle age, defined as that period from one’s mid-30’s to early 50’s, is typically a period of significant personal change and development for all people, regardless of sexual orientation. However, in the gay community and among Black gay men in particular, where so much of cultural life is focused on the interests of those in their 20’s, this period is often one of profound introspection and re-examination of one’s values, needs and goals.

In my series, you will read comments from twelve diverse people, from different parts of the country and world, who are all Black same-gender-loving men between the ages of 37 and 52. They have responded to a questionnaire I created asking them about their lives in the past, the present and how they envision their future. I think you’ll find their responses to be illuminating, enlightening and perhaps even refreshing considering the scant few opportunities we generally get to hear from this age group.

As always, I hope you will find this blog topic interesting and that you will provide your feedback and comments.