Laura Washington's May 19 Chicago Sun-Times article and Amy Wooten's May 28 follow-up article in Windy City Times have sparked new energy in an ongoing debate between the business owners and residents of Chicago's Lakeview Boystown neighborhood, and some adult Black LGBTQ self-identified youth advocates. The debate, often heated, passionate and littered with accusations of racism, is over how to handle the teens who come to the gay-focused Boystown from the South and West sides of Chicago.
During the community forums that I have attended over the years, I heard several concerns. Business owners said they worried that the teens interfered with the coming and going of their patrons. Residents said they were frustrated because the teens were noisy and disrupted the peace by congregating on street corners and rough-housing well into the early morning hours. Some youth advocates said they felt attacked because Black and Latino teens were being targeted due to racism. These continued debates and strong feelings happen in the context of taboo and blame. There are issues that we do not explore and some of us use accusations to silence and bully people.
One of our biggest taboos is the fact that many LGBTQ teens from the South and West sides of Chicago come to Boystown because they are not safe in their homes and neighborhoods. Indeed, some LGBTQ teens are homeless because their parents threw them out. The youth advocates who say Black and Latino LGBTQ teens are not welcome in Boystown because of racism may very well be correct, but the teens are not welcome in their homes, churches, schools, and neighborhoods because of homophobia either.
In his April 2007 entry for the Chronicle of Higher Education's 'News Blog,' Lawrence Biemiller describes the overt homophobia in historically Black colleges that often goes unchallenged. He reports that there are a disproportionately small number of gay student organizations in historically Black colleges, due in part to the unwillingness of faculty members to serve as advisers. In addition, since 2004, students at the historically Black Hampton University tried unsuccessfully to get a gay-straight alliance approved by the administration according to Elizabeth A. Perry in her February 2007 article for the Washington Blade.
Black LGBTQ same-gender-loving people many times see exposing homophobia within their communities as taboo. This means that while white young people often find college to be a safe place to explore their sexuality, Blacks and Latinos who attend historically Black colleges have the opposite experience, with scarce support from the adult Black LGBTQ community. Consequently, they are left to navigate hostile social, religious and educational settings without having space to even name the hostility. They are left to mend from painful experiences without having consistent guidance in how to develop affirming relationships as LGBTQ people. As a result, young Black and Latino LGBTQ people sometimes come to believe that they belong on the fringe of society, and build their lives on that belief.
The National Development and Research Institutes, Inc., in New York released a 2004 abstract of a study by M.V. Gwadz, M.C. Clatts, N.R. Leonard and L. Goldsamt that identified what they called fearful attachment style ( one's core beliefs regarding the self and others ) in young men who have sex with men ( MSM ) . They connect the fearful attachment style to the increased potential that young MSM will leave the protective systems of family, school and work, and decide to remain and function in risky communities where they are less likely to encounter 'pro-social peers' and adults. The writers of this study concluded that young MSM who develop this fearful attachment style are more likely to have been homeless, to have participated in sex work, to use substances daily, to have been involved in the criminal justice system and to be out of school/work.
This means that young LGBTQ people who 'come out' and are consequently abandoned by their families and communities are at greater risk for developing the fearful attachment style and believing that the world is an unsafe place. They are at greater risk for not seeing family, school, church, neighborhood and work as sources of protection and safety. They are at greater risk for seeing no alternative to joining fringe communities, and they are less likely to develop positive relationships with peers, loved ones and safe adults. The challenge for the wider adult LGBTQ community as Black and Latino LGBTQ teens emerge toward adulthood is to help them develop identities that are proudly Black and Latino, confidently LGBTQ, and solidly part of mainstream society. Our challenge is to help teens make decisions that will result in them being prepared to enter society as successful doctors, lawyers, teachers, entrepreneurs, parents, ministers, politicians …
As Black and Latino/a LGBTQ adults, we have a choice to make. We can get distracted, yet another summer, by claims of white racism as warm weather and excitement draws teens to Boystown's nightlife area. Or we can do something different as a community. We can teach, with our actions, that being LGBTQ means more than turfs, clicks, race, gender, sex and political affiliation. Being LGBTQ also means doing the difficult work of forming honest relationships with family, friends, peers, colleagues and, yes, perceived enemies. We can spend yet another summer describing why racism is the problem—or we can show with our actions that a problem is no more than a means to bring people together.
White LGBTQ adults have a choice to make as well. They can become bogged down, yet another summer, with justifying their need to feel safe and get a good night's sleep. Or they can do something different as a community. They can teach with our actions that being LGBTQ means more than turfs, clicks, race, gender, sex and political affiliation. Being LGBTQ also means that they use the resources we have to help create equality, freedom and safety for everyone. They can spend yet another summer describing why crowds of noisy, strong, boisterous young people are the problem. Or they can show, with their actions, that a problem is no more than a means to have honest conversation about our needs.
Yes, we have choices to make. We can continue to honor taboos, look for blame, act out of guilt and treat one another with suspicion. We can continue to see each other as 'those' people, and continue to argue about who has the right to make change happen. We can continue the fight about change all while another year passes and the only change we see is in the faces of the people arguing. Another year passes and the only change that happens is more young people are lost to HIV, addiction or abuse.
Or we can take the opportunity this summer brings to think and talk about what we owe to the future. We can think about the wisdom we have gained through our mistakes and our successes. We can talk about the guidance we could give a young 15-year-old, for instance, who is thinking about telling his mother that he's gay. We can think about the ways we could help him explore some of the effects of coming out before he has to live with the choice he makes. We can talk about how to parent the young people who are already homeless.
Having raised three biological daughters from infancy to adulthood, I know how difficult adolescence can be for both the parent and the child. There are times when, as parents, we need to step back and watch as our children flap their wings in the nest, and there are times when we need to step up and say: this is not the time to fly. There are times when we should heed to what young people want, and there are times when we have to say: this is the time to heed to what I know. As adults, we do this so that our adolescents are protected and free. They are protected from themselves and the predators of the world. They are free to explore and grow into the adults they are meant to be. This is a difficult task, but one that is crucial. Without adults who are willing to be the 'bad guy' and say no when it's easier to say 'yes,' young people are lost. When the young become lost, we lose the future.
The problem is not race, although race is part of the picture. The problem is not age, although age is part of the picture. The problem is not grandstanding, although grandstanding is part of the picture. The problem is us. The problem is our community has become stuck in ancient battles, old ways, and irrelevant rhetoric. The problem is we are silent in the face of people who prey on the innocent and hide in the chaos. The problem is me. The problem is you.
This means that the solution must be us.
