“Introduction: More Than HIV: About Today’s Young Black People with Fluid Sexual Identities” in “From Jesus to J-Setting”
About Today’s Young Black People with Fluid Sexual Identities
Ben lifts his hands heavenward as his body sways to the downbeat of the upbeat song.1 His claps, chants, and animated facial expressions, as well as those of the overall group, become infectious, as the audience is welcomed by musical rhythms and collective energy. The experience temporarily transports Ben from the problems of daily life and a particularly challenging week. This joyful event keeps systemic, group, and personal demons at bay—if only for a little while. Ben’s spirit soars as the audience continues to join the melodic offering. Call-and-response and applause increase as more spectators become performance participants. Synchronized music and movement across the identically clad group usher in the communal celebration.
A similar scenario occurs during many Sunday morning Black Church worship services, particularly in congregations reputed for highly celebratory praise.2 However, Ben is not part of a choir, praise team, or praise dance troop. He is not even inside a church. The above scenario plays out during J-Setting competitions—festive dance events dotting the Black community during which Black male members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersexual, and asexual (LGBTQIA) community come together to strut, clap, step, chant, and fellowship in the spirit of friendly competition and community building. For certain young Black people with fluid sexual identities, broadly defined, J-Setting contests can provide both an alternative to the sense of community and connectedness found in Black Church religious experiences as well as create safe spaces where creative forms of spirituality and sacredness emerge afresh. Although not a church gathering, a strong argument can be made that these expressions of fellowship, friendship, frenzy, and fun represent a viable spiritual substitute for certain traditional expressions of religiosity. The type, nature, and content of religious and/or spiritual expressions like this among young individuals here are central to this book.
From Jesus to J-Setting examines the experiences of young Black people with fluid religious and sexual identities ages 18–24 years old.3 Specifically, it considers whether and how the intersection of racial, sexual, gender, religious and/or spiritual identities, as well as corresponding ethos, influence self-expression and lifestyle modalities in this understudied, often hidden community. Whether and how racial and religious/spiritual dynamics play out are central to this study and distinguish it from other scholarly efforts. Do the young Black people who shared their stories believe in God or a Higher Power? Do they consider themselves religious, spiritual, or something else? In what religious and/or spiritual practices do they engage? How have individuals come to understand seminal religious and/or spiritual experiences in their lives, and how have these dynamics affected them moving forward? Moreover, what can religious institutions like the Black Church do to support the Black LGBTQIA community, broadly defined? Responses to these questions undergird this book and help illumine intrinsic and extrinsic effects of religion and/or spiritualty.
Narratives document a continuum of expressive decisions—from traditional (e.g., Black Church) to more nontraditional (e.g., J-Setting) events—and their corresponding beliefs and values as individuals navigate formative development and the specters of racism, homophobia, heterosexism, and for many, ageism. A study of this type is invaluable given the prevailing research focus on young Black people with fluid sexual identities. Scholarship that centers this population tends to emphasize their sexual behavior, HIV occurrence, and retroantiviral medication adherence (Bennett, 2013; Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2015; Chen et al., 2019; Hawkins, 2011). Although such studies are important, participants in this current project contend that epidemiological narratives don’t tell the whole story. It is not their story. Fewer studies consider more emotive aspects of the daily lives of young Black members of the LGBTQIA population as well as how individuals are adaptive and resilient (Barnes & Collins, 2019; Barnes & Hollingsworth, 2018; McQueen & Barnes, 2017). From Jesus to J-Setting endeavors to help fill this scholarly gap.
J-Setting Explained and Explored
What exactly is J-Setting? What is this practice in which Ben is engaged that informs this book? Information about J-setting is provided throughout this study; this summary is designed to visually guide readers. The Prancing J-Settes were officially added as an auxiliary section to the Jackson State University (JSU) band in 1970 (Wicks, 2013). According to this same ethnographic research, the inception of the J-Settes was expected to be a public performance group for working through issues of race and gender. Their primary performance space, the Gibbs-Green Memorial Plaza at JSU, was created in response to an act of police brutality that resulted in the deaths of the two students for whom the plaza is now named. The plaza itself was created as a space away from the dangers of the mainstream world, a space for the performance of blackness by and for Black students as well as for a specific performance of Black femininity; “The J-Sette community has placed the Prancing J-Settes as representatives of this Black public sphere’s major cultural mores of upward class mobility, heteronormative propriety, family, and spectacular excellence” (Wicks, 2013, p. 52). The J-Settes have long been famous in the South; social media has now resulted in worldwide exposure of the J-Settes as models of femininity and an innovative new dance style (Loyd-Sims, 2014; Taylor & Khadra, 2020). Loyd-Sims (2014) suggests: “The prancing J-settes are known for introducing this particular style of dance that moved their dancers away from depending on baton twirling to a more stylistic dance form, which incorporated thrusts and high kicks . . .” (p. 21).
Although it is clear that the term “J-Setting” originated in reference to the J-Settes, there is some disagreement about whether or not J-Setting was unique to the J-Settes or to Southern majorettes in general (Loyd-Sims, 2014; McKindra, 2019). Loyd-Sims (2014) complicates the history of J-Setting, arguing that the dance style is such a part of HBCU band culture that it is difficult to say it was originated by one particular group. However, he contends that the form was developed for Black majorettes to relate to their audiences more easily by dancing to popular Black music of the times rather than traditional band music. Yet there is agreement that the original J-Settes developed a unique style and strove for a performance aesthetic that emphasized Black excellence and a specific aesthetic linked to race, class, gender, and heteronormativity that eventually became a space for a counternarrative in the hands of queer Black men. This style of dance has been modified by individuals from the form employed by the Prancing J-Settes.
J-Setting in public in the young Black LGBTQIA community emerged in the early 1990s. The South has a strong football and band culture, in which majorettes are an integral part. Yet some individuals are not afforded a place in such heteronormative spaces. Thus, those who admired majorettes and wished to dance like them took their performances to popular gay clubs (Loyd-Sims, 2014). Studies show the benefits of this art form. It allows for a public femme expression that is generally frowned upon for Black men as well as a sense of community. Loyd-Sims (2014) also proposes that J-Setting provides a space of disidentification, which is liberating for young Black members of the LGBTQIA community in general regardless of their gender presentation. According to Loyd-Sims (2014), J-Setting allows men to express their gender unconstrained by assigned sex or body size. Although the J-Settes perform a heteronormative femininity, J-Setters perform against heteronormativity, publicly reveling in the feminization of Black male bodies. Loyd-Sims (2014) reflects: “It was powerful because . . . Black gay men [are] dancing in “deviant” ways without any fear of being caught. Home reflects much of the queerphobic hostility in mainstream culture; however, J-setting exists away from that public gaze of mainstream culture which (dis)misses the dialectic of Black queer oppression and resistance” (p. 1). Similarly, the ability “to go in and out of femininity and masculinity” is “one of the key elements” of J-Setting (Taylor & Khadra, 2020, para. 8).
Communities are also formed around the art of J-Setting. Loyd-Sims (2014) writes that gay clubs and other J-Setting spaces; “. . . exist as meeting grounds for J-setters to “battle” one another, learn new routines or trends from other squads, engage in communion with dancers and others who support J-setting, all working towards sustaining J-setting as cultural work” (p. 22). Two J-Setting groups that have been featured in the media are the Prancing Elites from Mobile, Alabama, and the Dance Champz of Atlanta in Georgia (Daniels, 2015; The Prancing Elites Project, 2015; Taylor & Khadra, 2020). Both because of a shared desire for expression and the sheer length of time J-Setting teams spend together practicing, these groups provide community similar to family for their members (Loyd-Sims, 2014). The two seasons of their reality show called The Prancing Elites Project on Oxygen documented team members with various gender presentations, a shared love of dance, dedication to the craft of J-Setting, and group closeness reflective of fictive kin (Daniels, 2015; The Prancing Elites Project, 2015). Similarly, Leland Thorpe of the Dance Champz of Atlanta states: “J-Setting creates a family” (Taylor & Khadra, 2020, 00:00:3234).
Studies suggest that J-Setting also provides a space for disidentification or public rejection of the dominant culture. Individuals who perform their femininity publicly are acting counter to prescribed roles as Black men and thus publicly defy gender expectations in liberating ways (Loyd-Sims, 2014). Also, persons who do not present more femininely may still gain satisfaction by witnessing their peers proudly rejecting societal classifications and expectations (Taylor & Khadra, 2020). J-Setting is also described as a space of creation in which a different world is possible (Daniels, 2015; Loyd-Sims, 2014; McKindra, 2019; Taylor & Khadra, 2020). J-Setters create “counterpublics” or spaces that are all their own and for their community. Such spaces allow for other ways of engaging the public. During a performance or with the squad, J-Setters are encouraged to express themselves authentically and take pride in their creativity, precision, and femininity (Loyd-Sims, 2014; The Prancing Elites Project, 2015; Taylor & Khadra, 2020). For some J-Setters this environment may be one of the few spaces persons feel they can be themselves and be judged by their own standards rather than by the mainstream. J-Setters often face homophobia in the Black community and in the broader society, as well as transphobia and misogyny from their peers in the Black LGBTQIA community who embrace heteronormativity. Yet such performances are part of resisting heteronormativity and homophobia (Daniels, 2015; DeFrantz, 2017; Loyd-Sims, 2014; The Prancing Elites Project, 2015). J-Setting has also experienced mainstream appropriation. For example, Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” video uses J-Setting moves and went viral. Some in the J-Setting community critiqued the lack of public acknowledgement (Alvarez, 2013). Yet other sources note the heightened exposure of queer choreographers and J-Setters from the Black LGBTQIA community (DeFrantz, 2017). J-Setting is thriving, becoming more visible, and continues to provide space for the queering of gender norms.
THE EXPERIENCES OF YOUNG BLACK PEOPLE WITH FLUID SEXUAL IDENTITIES: OBSTACLES AND OPPORTUNITIES
Research on the experiences of young Black people with fluid sexual identities, in general, and young Black males in the LGBTQIA community—often referred to as Black men who have sex with men (BMSM), in particular—is included throughout this book, yet a summary of overarching scholarly themes about their lives that informs this study is in order. According to predictions by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2015, 2019b, 2020), about 50 percent of BMSM in particular are expected to contract HIV in their lifetime. This sobering statistic is particularly troubling because HIV is preventable; it also informs the current analysis, in part, as individuals push back from such reductionist profiles that only consider sexual behavior and negative outcomes. Yet the tension is real in the struggle to stress the importance of healthy decision-making to combat the uneven risks of this virus while challenging people inside and outside LGBTQIA communities to view persons as more than risky sexual beings. How does scholarship understand the prevailing obstacles and opportunities for this population?
Scholarship shows that many Black members of the LGBTQIA population experience discrimination based on their intersecting racial, class, gender, and sexual identities, which often takes the form of homophobia, stigma, stereotypes, hate crimes, and health disparities because a “rhetoric of gay promiscuity [is] . . . used by a homophobic society to justify institutional discrimination” (Johnson, 2008, p. 430).4 This stance reduces members of the LGBTQIA community, in general, and BMSM, in particular, to their sexual activity and downplays or ignores the plethora of complexities associated with their multiple, often marginalized social identities. Without effective coping strategies and support, young Black sexual minorities are more likely to internalize negative images; engage in risky behavior; experience physical and emotional problems; fail to seek HIV testing, disclose their status, and/or seek treatment; attempt suicide; or abuse drugs (Arnold et al., 2014; Peterson & Jones, 2009). Yet persons can better navigate such challenges with increased social support; inclusive policies; committed, consistent allies; economic resources to combat poverty and homelessness; and inclusive religious spaces (Badgett, 2001; Balaji et al., 2012; Barnes, 2013b; Bernstein & Naples, 2015; Corvino & Gallagher, 2012; Jones et al., 2010; Means & Jaeger, 2015; Oster et al., 2013). Moreover, Black members of the LGBTQIA community who are choosing to determine their own identities understand their unique experiences and cultivate healthy and positive familial and friendship ties (James & Moore, 2005; Johnson, 2008). For many persons in this study, empowering processes are connected to their religious or spiritual lives. Knowledge and the resulting capacities are being concertedly used by increasing numbers of young Black people with diverse sexual identities to query oppressive beliefs and structures, to mobilize to effect change, and to improve their overall quality of life (Barnes, 2013b; Barnes & Collins, 2019; Hunter, 2010; Johnson, 2008; Lemelle & Battle, 2004; McQueen & Barnes, 2017). Yet some individuals succumb to a barrage of negativity linked to family rejection, vacillating friendships, economic woes, and isolation—resulting in less fulfilling lives.
Other research on the experiences of young Black members of the LGBTQIA community regarding race, gender, sexuality, religion, spirituality, identity development, and self-care is referenced in subsequent chapters to augment this summary as I consider the spectrum of obstacles and opportunities young people associate with religious and/or spiritual dictates. Overall, the literature vacillates between the trials and triumphs that they encounter. When participants speak their truth they challenge research that portrays them as constrained by deficits. This truth-telling includes cultivating and/or continuing to develop affirming self-definitions and practices fueled by authenticity and transparency. And part of this ongoing process often includes untangling religious experiences.
Commentary from several seminal texts on the Black LGBTQIA experience is particularly salient here. For example, Beam’s (1986) groundbreaking multimedia anthology, In the Life: A Black Gay Anthology, recognizes this reality: “Because of our homosexuality the Black community casts us as outsiders. We are the poor relations, the proverbial Black sheep, without a history, a literature, a religion [emphasis added], or a community” (p. 17). Moreover, E. Patrick Johnson’s Sweet Tea: Black Gay Men of the South (2008) further counters religious stereotyping that establishes, among other systemic constraints, an ethos about Christian deservedness: “from the perspective of many conservatives, all gay people are promiscuous. The truth of the matter is, of course, some of us are promiscuous. And promiscuity is a legitimate expression of sexuality for all sexual beings. The rhetoric of gay promiscuity, however, has often been a tool used by a homophobic society to justify institutionalized discrimination” (p. 430). Religion, as a structural force, has historically been part of such practices. However, findings here challenge or extend fields of study and disciplines about how young Black sexual minorities feel about race, religion, spirituality, and sexuality. From Jesus to J-Setting offers contemporary experiences among individuals about cultural representations historically connected to the Black community.
Rather than romanticize their lives and experiences, persons in this study candidly describe trials and triumphs, inter-as well as intragroup problems, and perspectives that may challenge and expand our understanding of what constitutes “intersecting identities.” From Jesus to J-Setting uses a multidisciplinary, mixed-methodological lens to present a nuanced narrative that explains how some of today’s young Black members of the LGBTQIA community employ religion and/or spirituality to negotiate racially and sexually charged spaces in search of sanctuary and stability. Sociology, sociology of religion, queer studies, and cultural studies are brought to bear on their daily lives and everyday forms of resistance, such that this project augments other studies on religion. This counternarrative also considers the potentially mediating effects of both religious and nonreligious expression in fostering beneficial personal and group outcomes. Just as inequality and marginalization are part of the historical ecology of many Black LGBTQIA persons in the United States, so are individual and collective responses designed to help them survive and thrive with courage and dignity in often unwelcoming spaces (Barnes & Collins, 2019; Collins, 2004; Johnson, 2008; McQueen & Barnes, 2017; Mumford, 2019). Moreover, in applying and extending James Scott’s (1984) concept of “everyday resistance,” I’ve coined the term “everyday sacredness” to symbolize sentiments and strategies used by individuals for personal empowerment in the negotiation of challenging situations through unconditional self-love, pride, and resilience.
YOUNG BLACK PEOPLE WITH FLUID SEXUAL IDENTITIES SPEAK THEIR TRUTH
Why examine the religious and spiritual experiences of this population of young Black people? Stereotypes and scriptural redactions that paint a portrait of sexual deviance directly or indirectly suggest that members of the Black LGBTQIA community could not possibly want or have a personal relationship with God, believe in a Higher Power, or desire to live godly lives.5 For certain members of the Christian community, members of the LGBTQIA community are reduced to their sexual practices, unrepentant, and should thus be barred from Black Church life and community. Unfortunately, the Black Church and many religious spaces in general have a history of these exclusionary beliefs and practices (Cohen, 1999; Fullilove & Fullilove, 1999; James & Moore, 2005; McQueen & Barnes, 2017). Such ethnocentric dynamics belie the plethora of persons who embrace Christianity, other religious traditions, spiritual dictates, or other practices and endeavor to live good lives accordingly. Capturing their narratives about religion and spirituality here may help set these past misconceptions to right.
This book’s focus on religion and spirituality is a direct reflection of more than five years of interactions with young Black members of the LGBTQIA community, many of whom were raised in Black churches in the South and Midwest. During this ongoing experience, negative and positive effects of religious exposure (largely via the Black Church), as well as the importance of religion and/or spirituality, were prevalent themes in conversations, exercises, workshops, and other group events. Most prior studies tend to conflate religion and spirituality. Although there are certain common features, the two concepts differ in terms of their impetus, nature, scope, and certain practices. In contrast to spirituality, religion, broadly defined, refers to a formal set of beliefs, values, and practices under the authority of an acknowledged, noncorporal authority (example, God among Christians) that includes behavioral expressions such as praying, attending worship services, and reading sacred texts.6 Rather than an organized, institutionalized belief system, spirituality reflects an array of acceptable beliefs and practices but tends to emphasize humanity’s connection to one another and the universe. In contrast to religion’s tendency toward the formal, spirituality seems to celebrate informality as well as ideals such as nonjudgmental acceptance of self and others, holistic wellness, and life-long self-discovery.7 Religion and spirituality are detailed in later chapters.
This study may be particularly valuable and differs from most existing studies because it identifies and illumines distinctions between organized religion and spirituality. In addition, based on the paucity of research on this topic,8 it is clear that the voices of young Black persons who espouse diverse sexual identities have been largely absent. I contend that, in addition to dynamics such as homophobia, heterosexism, stigma, and stereotypes, many young people are often exposed to views that they could not possibly be religious or spiritual beings. Largely fueled by religious reductionism, such misconceptions are often driven by biblical interpretations that determine that members of the LGBTQIA community cannot “go to heaven” because of their sexuality—and the most punitive perspectives consider HIV an indictment by God against homosexuality. Yet indviduals in this study provide a very different story of efforts to be good Christians—good people—as they pursue religious and/or spiritual lifestyles.
The IAM! Experience as a Site of Religious and Spiritual Transformation
This inquiry into religion and spirituality emerged almost unexpectedly during a prevention program with practical objectives—The IAM! Experience. The acronym IAM! stands for Inspired, Affirmed, and Making It Happen. It reflects the overarching goal of a five-year program funded by a grant from the Department of Health and Human Services for Black men who have sex with men (BMSM) ages 18–24 years old.9 Its initial program premise was that by fostering more positive racial, gender, and sexual identities, healthier decision-making would emerge to combat the transmission of HIV and hepatitis C. However, ecological considerations suggested the value of also including the themes of religiosity, inequality, and self-care. Gatherings ranged from intensive weekend sessions to weekly meetings over the course of a month. Attitudinal and behavioral changes captured before and after the prevention program were used to ascertain whether participants were thinking and behaving differently as a result of the experience, and if so, how.
Reported program outcomes include reductions in risky sexual behavior, increased condom use, greater knowledge about healthy decision-making and resource availability, and healthier identity development. Over the course of the program, in addition to a myriad of counseling and social service referrals, more than 236 individuals participated in the prevention program (noted earlier), more than 625 Black male and transgender persons were tested for HIV and/or hepatitis C, and more than 5,500 condoms were distributed. Subsequent formal and informal initiatives helped maintain ties and provided opportunities to continue to meet the ever-changing needs of this population. As might be expected, dialogue around sexuality, gender, and race were common; unexpectedly, religion emerged as equally—and in some instances more—central to the social identities and concerns of individuals. Thus, the prevention program warrants more than a lengthy endnote, given its place as a serendipitous site of religious and spiritual transformation for many individuals in this study.
Unlike more traditional preventions, the evidenced-based curriculum used during the IAM! Experience (called d-up: Defend Yourself!) was enhanced to ensure cultural sensitivity and include topics believed to be germane to the experiences of young Black sexual minorities such as identity development, self-care, and religion.10 The latter topic emerged as both a point of contention and source of capacity building. Equally important, many people shared sentiments and experiences around religion (spirituality emerged as a viable alternative for many persons) that contrast greatly with past, somewhat dated scholarship on “open closets,” rampant homophobia in Black congregations, and Black gay and lesbian members who are largely relegated to church music ministries (Fullilove & Fullilove, 1999). Many of their truths suggest that the contemporary religious terrain has become more complex and gradated than previous research suggests.
Readers should note that I intentionally do no replicate certain political and social details about southern ecology so thoughtfully depicted in Johnson’s Sweet Tea: Black Gay Men of the South (2008), but rather I focus on religious and spiritual experiences and their implications for young adults—most of whom are late adolescents.11 To this extent, Black churches, whether inside or outside the South, and one’s age represent the primary independent variables here rather than southern ecology. To the degree that specific information about southern dynamics helps describe and explain experiences, it is included. In addition, considering age allows for the examination of certain developmental dynamics that can shape religious and spiritual identities as individuals also make sense of other potentially salient features of other social identities such as race, gender, and sexuality. In this way, From Jesus to J-Setting augments and extends Johnson’s efforts by considering the experiences and understandings of young Black members of the LGBTQIA community who identify as gay, bisexual, transgender, and straight and who reside inside and outside the South as informed by the Black Church cultural form.
As might be expected, painful personal narratives emerge as some persons recount tense religious experiences. The vast majority delved deeper to unpack intersections between past church cultural practices and present-day behavior, correlates between religious identity and their other social selves, and processes during which spirituality has emerged from the ashes of religiosity. And their ability to transform religious and spiritual identities and processes often belie their ages. Because many individuals here are products of the South and thus the Bible Belt, it may not be surprising that religion, in general, and the Black Church, in particular, are part of their socialization processes. What is somewhat unexpected is the depth in which such cultural practices influenced their youth—and continue to do so. For some, a Black Church ethos is entrenched in their lives. For others, a fusion of U.S. Black Christianity, African religions, and humanism now take center stage. And for other persons here, being a religious consumer means being picky in the contemporary religious marketplace, including turning it on its head to cultivate new knowledge, a mosaic of holistic practices, and syncretized beliefs.
Complex lives require complex support systems from an array of domains. This study considers whether and how intersecting social identities and societal situations influence religious and/or spiritual attitudes and actions. Individuals here speak their truth in several ways, including via surveys from over 236 people and in-depth interviews with 76 individuals from this same group. The ethnographic portion of the study is based on interviews, surveys, and direct observations during interviews. These data were examined using content and historiographical analyses (details are provided in the appendix) (Denzin & Lincoln, 2005; Krippendorf, 1980; Strauss & Corbin, 1990). Thick descriptions and narratives, augmented by inter-and intragroup statistics, inform this multidisciplinary endeavor. In it individuals share stories about their lives and the place of religion and spirituality in them. Equally important, lengthier narratives document both processes and the ways young Black people understand and explain their intersecting racial, religious and/or spiritual, gender, and sexual identities. The quantitative results are threaded through these voices. Findings are expected to have academic and applied import via the assessment of successes, pitfalls, and impasses that individuals believe influence their lives. Results may also provide a contemporary roadmap for Black community organizations such as Black churches, other religious or spiritual groups, and secular allies to help meet the holistic needs of this population. From Jesus to J-Setting chronicles diverse aspects of the lives of persons like Ben as they navigate social spaces and develop facilitative capacities. And in sharing their stories, young people in this study offer a unique glimpse into an important yet understudied dimension of the Black experience in the United States.12
CULTURAL THEORY: CONTEMPORARY APPLICATIONS AND EXTENSIONS
For young Black members of the LGBTQIA community who participate either as dancers or spectators, J-Setting represents a cultural expression that provides periods of catharsis, community, and communication that emboldens persons individually and collectively, I contend, in the spirit of corporate prayer, singing, and call-and-response common in the Black Church. In this way, energetic worship and praise as well as holy dancing in certain Christian traditions and J-Setting today call into question what is considered sacred. Rather than debate an ideological issue, this analysis focuses on the underlying attitudes and behaviors of young people in this study based on cultural theory,13 specifically, how culture—including beliefs, behavior, language, artifacts, norms, and values—influence their daily lives. Part of the inquiry includes considering culture as a “shared way of life” that can empower and, in certain instances, disempower people and groups in traditional and nontraditional ways. This lens is appropriate here given the focus on religion and spirituality. Equally important, the influence of language and self-expression as cultural tools among study participants affords an opportunity to consider how culture can manifest itself in new and exciting ways. I summarize dimensions of cultural theory below, paying attention to connections to Black religiosity, broadly defined, and then reference this framework in subsequent chapters.
Swidler (1986) defines culture as; “symbolic vehicles of meaning, including beliefs, ritual practices, art forms, and ceremonies, as well as informal cultural practices such as language, gossip, stories, and rituals of daily life” (p. 273). This characterization differs from earlier definitions that correlate culture with a collective consciousness that shapes group decisions or that illustrates how ideas influence group attitudes and actions.14 According to cultural theory, culture reflects socially constructed symbols and events that provide meaning and cultivate and reinforce expected behavior (Barnes, 2005; Swidler, 1986). Employing this terminology, a cultural repertoire or “tool kit” includes beliefs, symbols, stories, and rituals used to negotiate social situations. Moreover, cultural tools are not the mechanisms by which individuals explain outcomes but are the means to facilitate processes to bring about desired outcomes.
Culture can provide both motivation and meaning for such processes as well as engender the deployment of resources. In this way, individuals and groups use cultural components to identify issues and challenges, make sense of them, and create response strategies. Swidler (1986) posits, “culture provides the materials from which individuals and groups construct strategies of action” (p. 280). Moreover, culture can be framed (i.e., purposely arranged, produced, and presented) to effect individual and group change (Bolman & Deal, 1991; Goffman, 1974; Snow et al., 1986). Moreover, how culture is framed can influence whether and how individuals respond to real and perceived problems that affect them and those important to them (Benford, 1993). But what are some of the ways young people here understand, frame, maintain, use, and alter culture and the cultural tools at their disposal?
This theory of culture-driven action provided a thoughtful lens during my empirical examinations of Black Church responses to social problems in the Black community (Barnes, 2005). Results illustrate the importance of historical cultural tools such as prayer, gospel music, and spirituals, as well as their direct influence on community action. Additionally, cultural capacities among Black pastors regarding HIV/AIDS influence congregational outcomes related to this social condition that disproportionately affects the Black community (Barnes, 2009a, 2011). Other researchers have connected cultural dynamics to Black religious responses in diverse ways (Drake & Cayton, 1945; McRoberts, 2003; Pattillo-McCoy, 1998; West, 1982; Wilmore, 1994). It will be important to assess whether and how this framework may help illuminate experiences and expressions among Black members of the LGBTQIA population. Cultural theory is employed in this study to identify, describe, and document cultural tools utilized by persons to both make sense of their daily lives and potentially live out their understanding of religion and spirituality. Additionally, this paradigm may help uncover creative application of existing tools from the Black Church tradition, discarded tools considered irrelevant to young Black sexual minorities today, and new cultural tools this same populace has developed. Moreover, this scholarly framework can help explain why and how tools evolve to re-socialize this group of young people in transformative ways. Historical aspects of cultural theory can be applied and extended in contemporary spaces and for a new generation.
Do young Black people who embrace diverse sexual identities employ cultural tools commonly associated with the Black community and the Black Church? And if so, why, and do they make these tools their own? Many individuals in this study were raised in Black churches; most were reared in Black communities. And these two groups broadly share a history of resilience and oppression. Are individuals appropriating, extending, and/or discarding certain cultural tools found among Blacks, in general, and Black Christians, in particular? Do certain cultural tools and traditions resonate with some individuals more than others? What are some of the strengths and limitations of the cultural tools people employ for community—and relationship—building? Do patterns emerge around religious and spiritual expression? And are there individual or collective impediments to godly living for individuals who wish to do so? Answers to these questions are crucial given the ability of cultural tools to both inform and mobilize people to meet religious and nonreligious needs, address problems, and routinize attitudes and behavior, even in the face of needed change.
WEAVING IN QUEER OF COLOR SCHOLARSHIP
A cultural lens informs this overall study, and a Queer of Color (QOC) framework provides an added analytical dimension. This discourse centers the lived experiences of queer people of color to question (i.e., queer), identify, critique, and address the effects of seemingly normative, yet often oppressive structural powers. A QOC lens is informed by queer theory, Black feminist thought, woman of color feminisms, Marxism, poststructuralism, and other frameworks that challenge hegemonic power structures but have not gone “far enough” to engender inclusivity. Moreover, it particularly considers the contemporary effects of neoliberalism as well as the material and ideological realities that disproportionately affect queer people of color. Ferguson’s (2004) groundbreaking examination of the historic production and marginalization of differences, Aberrations in Black: Toward a Queer of Color Critique, defines queer of color critique as; “[an] interroga(tion) of social formations as the intersections of race, gender, sexuality, and class, with particular interest in how those formations correspond with and diverge from nationalist ideals and practices” (p. 173).15 Emerging largely during the 1990s in the United States in response to increased exclusion, repression, and criminalization of people of color, a QOC lens extends queer theory by offering an intersectional view of the ways that heteronormative logic affects both the life chances and quality of life of queer people of color. Ferguson (2004, p. ix) grounds a QOC thesis in the reality that “epistemology is an economy of information privileged and information excluded” from which structures, social categories, groups, mores, values, and expectations are forged for those privileged by such epistemologies—just as their counterparts are marginalized and excluded.
This scholarly frame is informed by the efforts of a number of theorists who highlight and criticize both the whiteness of the field of queer theory and the lack of concerted academic engagement about political and economic structural oppression. Repressive policies targeting people of color (Ferguson, 2018), police violence and harassment as well as increased exclusionary immigration measures (Manalansan, 2003), disparate prison sentences (HoSang, 2010), and the marginalization of feminist and queer South Asians by mainstream South Asian institutions (Gopinath, 2005) are a few examples of increasingly deleterious conditions that necessitate a QOC response. These theorists began to highlight the ways that queer theory was insufficient in explaining and addressing many of these complex social issues. In addition to Ferguson’s work and scholarship by political scientist and feminist activist Cathy J. Cohen, other works such as Freedom with Violence: Race, Sexuality and the U.S. State by Reddy (2011) and European Others: Queering Ethnicity in Postnational Europe by El-Tayeb (2011) each challenge present-day liberal or seemingly color-blind narratives that result in increased state surveillance and marginalization of non-Whites. These writings, in addition to the Combahee River Collective’s (1983) foundational statement, inform a QOC charge against systems of domination (Bailey, 2019; Ferguson, 2018; Manalansan, 2018).
It can be said that the QOC framework owes much of its impetus to Cathy Cohen’s seminal work, “Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics?” (2005) and The Boundaries of Blackness: AIDS and the Breakdown of Black Politics (1999), which offer historicity, foundational concepts, themes, and challenges to move queer politics toward transformative ends (Cohen, 1999, 2004, 2005).16 Per the former treatise,
What queers want is to be part of the social, economic, and political restructuring of this society . . . queers want to have a queer experience and politics “taken as starting points rather than as footnotes” [including] political strategies which promote self-definition and full expression . . . the politics of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people of color have been and continue to be much broader in its understanding of transformational politics. (Cohen, 2005, pp. 444–46)
In addition to encouraging grassroots coalition-building, this same scholar challenges individuals to mobilization around the relative degrees of oppression that all “sexual/cultural deviants” experience (Cohen, 2005, p. 53). A QOC critique also considers intersectionality across multiple systems of oppression that act on queer of color people resulting in various uniquely oppressive outcomes (Collins, 2004; Crenshaw, 1991; Johnson, 2005). This lens takes seriously questions of class and colonialism in a way that queer theory does not. Like Cohen and Ferguson, other writers propose that queer theory lacks attention to the material constraints of queer life for people of color by presenting “queer” as a color-blind, homogenous group of people that ultimately centers White queer persons (Johnson, 2005). Thus, the whiteness of queer theory limits its ability to be used as a comprehensive, culturally sensitive tool in the assessment of the lives of queer people of color.17 In addition, a QOC framework highlights the “mess” of normativity by pointing out the cleavages between hetero- and homo-normativity and the real world (Manalansan, 2018, p. 1288). The experiences of queer people of color escape normative expectations and cannot be neatly delineated or categorized; a QOC critique challenges the very idea of normativity.18 This lens points out dynamics that undermine inclusivity and agency in its varied forms, while acknowledging that hegemony may mean that even sexual minorities “are not immune to the hierarchical, gender-coded system of sexual meaning that is part and parcel of this discursive practice” (Almaguer, 1991, p. 270).19
Just as this evolving discourse provides mechanisms to consider the nuanced lives and challenges of queer people of color, its robustness is expected to help uncover insights about religion and spirituality as part of the intersectional identities of young Black sexual minorities. And a QOC framework finds a possible commonality with the cultural lens used here because
queer of color critique approaches culture as one site that compels identifications with and antagonisms to the normative ideals promoted by state and capital . . . culture becomes a site of material struggle . . . [and] fosters unimagined alliances . . . in this moment of transgressions and regulations, we must approach these subjects as sites of knowledge. (Ferguson, 2004, pp. 3, 148)
Race, class, gender, and sexuality are socially constructed formations of power and privilege; so is religion and its ascribed culture, in general, and Black Church culture, in particular. And by extension, the emergent voices and knowledge from the religious and spiritual experiences of young Black sexual minorities are expected to question, contest, reframe, and potentially transform prevailing epistemologies and their related structures.
EVERYDAY SACREDNESS AS A CULTURAL TOOL: A DEFINITION
Various religious and spiritual cultural tools emerged in the program that the young persons represented here suggest reflect their understanding of their individual and collective experiences navigating society. The phenomenon, everyday sacredness, is briefly defined here and detailed in chapter 4. Everyday sacredness refers to the ability of young Black people with diverse sexual identities (and possibly other marginalized groups) to move through the world with a sense of intrinsic value, unconditional self-love, purpose, and freedom. For persons, being true to oneself (i.e., often referred to as “living or telling one’s truth”) and doing the work to uncover “who that person is” represent a fundamental dimension of sacredness—for then one is more apt to be honest with oneself, with other people, and with God. Additionally, the search for the sacred is an ongoing process that typically includes emotional, psychological, and spiritual reflection; introspection; painful recollections; and, for most persons, re-socialization about certain traditional religious and nonreligious dictates to which they were exposed in youth. These learning and, sometimes, unlearning processes are mentioned in some form by the vast majority of individuals in this study. Moreover, they contend that society is fraught with “evils” such as homophobia and other “isms” because many people, straight and nonstraight alike, refuse to engage in similar personal exploratory processes or even acknowledge the need to do so.
By definition, everyday sacredness is transformative and indelibly tied to a process of transparency, self-revelation, and self-definition that can emerge as one considers and contemplates one’s place in the world. It emerges attitudinally and manifests behaviorally. Moreover, everyday sacredness suggests that, as one of God’s creation, young Black members of the LGBTQIA community are important “just because.” And to them, just because antiquated churches have abandoned them does not mean God has. This sacredness is not conditioned on prevailing theologies, traditional religious tenets, or societal beliefs. Nor is it dependent upon one’s instrumental or expressive contributions but rather reflects a sense of immediate and ongoing appreciation for one’s uniqueness, innate value, and internal holiness.
Moreover, everyday sacredness reflects a tone of righteous indignation as persons question and reject biased and homophobically exegeted scripture, as well as heteronormative individuals who exclude sexual minorities or attempt to use the Bible to contain them. This stance can manifest as a form of quiet certainty about one’s relationship with God or a Higher Power but can also take on a feisty and confrontational spirit, particularly among younger individuals. This means that, in some instances, “raising hell” becomes a sacred act as persons refuse to be placated, appeased, or diverted in or by oppressive people and places. Individuals consistently question categories, boxes, and positivistic approaches to understand and classify them. Moreover, they become suspicious of any process that reduces them and their lives to make others feel more comfortable. Fluidity and ambiguity are not the friends of positivism but seem foundational for everyday sacredness.
Equally important, everyday sacredness can mean being tangentially connected to the organized Black Church. However, if so, individuals are involved on their own terms and glean the best from these congregations in terms of cultural tools such as prayer, connection to God, ideologies, and mentors that feed their spirits and provide unconditional, holistic support. However, the tendency to focus on self-actualization contrasts with a biblical emphasis to keep God first and “thy neighbor as thyself,” as presented in the Great Commandments. This emphasis on priestly rather than prophetic tenets can make it difficult to live out these two seminal commandments to love God first and treat other people as one wants to be treated, as found in Matthew 22:35–40, Mark 12:28–34, and Luke 10:27, as well as other biblical charges discussed throughout this book that encourage community service. Yet biblical passages by Christ can become guiding mantras. In this way, New Testament passages can take precedence over the Old Testament for faith and praxis. Overall, everyday sacredness reflects epistemological freshness and self-creation informed by both religiosity and spirituality.
THE CONCEPT “BMSM”: AN ABBREVIATION, NOT AN IDENTITY
Some readers may be skeptical about use of the term “BMSM” (i.e., Black men who have sex with men) periodically in this book. I believe it is a viable concept in this instance. Rather than a label, the concept BMSM represents an abbreviation to describe aspects of the lives of the young persons who shared their stories. The concept also reflects race and gender in addition to sexual behavior. BMSM is not used here as a totalizing identity. It focuses on sexual behavior rather than identity, given that this study examines identity development in terms of race, class, gender, religion, and spiritualty (and their intersections). Although many persons in this study actually use the term BMSM, they also describe their own identities in terms such as Black, African American, multiracial, multiethnic, transgender, male, female, queer, gay, bisexual, straight, gender nonconforming, and, in some instances, just plain human. It should be noted that, to some scholars and mainstream folks, even these concepts are considered labels or boxes.20
Moreover, the use of the term BMSM in the public health arena does not preclude its use in other disciplines and arenas. Yet individuals’ narratives in this book explain their own views about their varied, often nuanced social identities. Their self-defining processes are central here. Readers will also note that I use various concepts (i.e., BMSM; young Black people with fluid sexual identities; Black members of the LGBTQIA community; Black males, females, and trans-persons; Black sexual minorities; individuals; and persons) when describing my research partners as well as how they understand themselves. The goal is not to misidentify, misgender, or essentialize people. And just as discussions about this topic are documented in subsequent chapters, particularly for individuals still engaged in self-discovery, dialogue about the appropriateness of this and other related terminology will likely continue. One of the objectives of this book is to provide a platform for young Black males, females, and trans-persons who fall along a spectrum of various social identities to define, discuss, and explain how they understand their identities. Documenting a glimpse of this process is vital.
Book Format
How are young Black male, female, and transgender persons experiencing religion and spirituality? Does an often-negative history in spaces where organized forms of the former are touted encourage individuals to seek out the latter? Or, despite challenges, do persons continue to be Christians and embrace Black Church cultural tools? Each chapter considers a different dynamic linked to religion or spirituality as individuals understand and define them. This project does not consider every facet of their religious or spiritual experiences but rather focuses on some of the central features they bring to bear, particularly relative to their intersecting social identities. Narratives and the corresponding results will hopefully better equip and empower individuals here as well as help their peers outside the Black LGBTQIA community understand their part in the process.
Chapter 1 (More Than Gay: Intersecting Identities and Nuanced Lives) documents how individuals understand and explain their intersecting racial, sexual, gender, and religious/spiritual identities—and endeavor to move beyond reductionist depictions of them that focus on HIV/AIDS and sexual behavior. The chapter differs from prior studies in its emphasis on whether and how religion and spirituality influence other social identities. My research partners conceptualize and describe how they make sense of and potentially prioritize their identities as well as problematize societal dictates to “put them in a box.” Informed by six representative narratives, the chapter illustrates how individuals are striving to dismantle socially constructed definitions, images, and expectations about them, as well as how they engage in identity formation, broadly defined. Empirical results from identity scales further inform these revelatory processes. Moreover, cultural theory helps illustrate Black Church cultural tools used during self-definition as well as challenging congregational experiences that inform the lives and survival strategies of this collective.
Chapter 2 (Older People Don’t Know How to Get Out of the Way—Religion, Age, Race, and Agency) focuses on the experiences of individuals who consider themselves religious (typically Christian) rather than spiritual. The 2010 Social Justice Sexuality Study and survey results on racial well-being for persons in this study provide the context to compare their religious lives (Battle et al., 2020). Informed by historic predictions by Lincoln and Mamiya (1990) about Black young adult church inactivity, I specifically examine religious practices, prior and current church involvement, as well as whether and how individuals reconcile religious dictates over time. This chapter illustrates the indelibility of Black Church youth socialization and related tensions as individuals reflect on these past experiences when their thoughts coalesce around the intersection of race, religion, sexuality, and age. In addition to questioning traditional expectations around Christian commitment, persons discuss the value of a relationship with God, prayer, and following seminal biblical passages as they question the benefits of church attendance.21
Chapter 3, J-Setting and Jesus—Spirituality and Sanctuary, presents narratives of persons who consider themselves spiritual rather than religious; distinguishing features of the two ethoses are provided. Moreover, J-Setting is presented as a spiritual exercise that reflects a liberating form of self-definition and self-expression. Young Black members of the LGBTQIA community describe nuanced understandings of their deities and lifestyles, journeys toward spiritual enlightenment, and syncretistic beliefs and behavior that meet their existential needs. Expressive and instrumental reasons as well as past church challenges also influence many of their current spiritual practices. Also, findings from spiritual well-being surveys and a spiritual typology illustrate how persons embrace this ethos in personally transformative ways while continuing to appropriate Black Church cultural tools such as prayer and belief in God. Cultural theory is also applied to illustrate how expressions like J-Setting and spirituality can reflect forms of actualization and activism.
Chapter 4 (God Loves Me Too! Finding Everyday Sacredness) extends James Scott’s (1984) seminal epistemological concept, everyday resistance, to illustrate ways that individuals fuse dimensions of their multiple identities ontologically and in practice. The concept “everyday sacredness” is exemplified by positive, proactive beliefs and choices informed by features from Christology, spirituality, humanism, religious syncretism, and individual experiences to cultivate a renewed mindset that reflects “the best of the Bible” as well as nonbiblical edicts around affirmation and inclusivity. This concept is considered a perspective, posture, and body politic in response to society’s attempts to relegate young Black LGBTQIA people based on factors such as race, sexual identity, class, and age. According to individuals, everyday sacredness is a form of activism. Stories as well as their scores on a scale that empirically measures aspects of sacredness are referenced to illustrate how God “sees” them and thus how they should “see” themselves. The chapter also considers some of the contexts from which everyday sacredness can emerge as well as dynamics that can thwart it. The chapter concludes with ten tenets of everyday sacredness and supporting narratives.
The final chapter (I Am Enough—Navigating Contemporary Society Victoriously) focuses on strategies used by young Black persons with diverse sexual identities to successfully navigate society as spiritual, racial, and sexual beings. Best practices gleaned from the IAM! Experience prevention program are presented as are other beneficial organizations and resources. The concept everyday sacredness and its implications are also broadly discussed as an example of transdisciplinary scholarship and a mechanism for individual—and communal—empowerment. In addition, I summarize findings from prior chapters and build on them by generating regression models from survey data compiled by prevention program participants to test the possible influences of religious and spiritual dynamics on healthy sexual decision-making among this population. Such findings quantify and augment themes that emerged via the narratives in ways members of the Black LGBTQIA community, allies, and potential allies may find helpful. The chapter concludes with thoughts and implications for possible transformative engagement between the Black Church and young Black members of the LGBTQIA community.
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