Record Numbers Expected at Writers Festival for GLBT People of African Descent

By Sr. Correspondent,  D. Kevin McNeir

In 2002 as the winter approached in the city of Chicago, a visionary group of writers pulled off a groundbreaking gathering that brought together hundreds of journalists, academics, playwrights, filmmakers and fiction writers - all of whom were GLBT people of African descent. This writer had the opportunity to attend that consortium and witnessed first hand the power and pride that comes when negative attitudes and stereotypes about our community are replaced with positive expressions and genuine invitations for building alliances.

One writer from Black Issues Book Review described that first event as one which "helped introduce a wide range of writers to each other and their work in ways previous, mainly non-black writers' gatherings and small literary salons could not match."

Now, with an expanded list of goals, a hardworking group of volunteers and talented board members and a topnotch schedule of activities and workshops, Fire & Ink III: Cotillion is set to swoop down on Austin, Texas, October 8 - 11 with the majority of events taking place at the Hilton Austin.

But what can you expect? First E. Patrick Johnson will take to the stage - author of Pouring Tea: Black Gay Men of the South Tell Their Tales, who has taken time away from his professor's position at Northwestern University to travel the country with his one-man show. Jomama Jones will reign supreme during an intimate cabaret evening in which she will celebrate Cotillion's Hope Warriors. And then there's Sharon Bridgforth's staged reading of delta dandi and the performance of Daniel Alexander Jones. And that's just the beginning.

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By(Whitfield/Strong) Revised

 

 

I look out my window watch him as he passes by I say to myself I'm such a lucky guy To have a boy like him is a dream come true And of all the boys in new york, he loves me true It was just my imagination, once again Running away with me It was just my imagination Running away with me Soon we'll be married and raise a family Two boys for you, what about two girls for me I tell you I am just a fellow with a one track mind Whatever it is I want baby I seek and I shall find I'll tell ya It was just my imagination, once again Running away with me It was just my imagination Running away with me Every night I hope and pray Dear lord, hear my plea Dont ever let another take his love from me Or I will surely die His love is ecstasy When his arms enfold me I hear his tender rhapsody But in reality, he doesnt even know... me

By Alonzo G

Blending in has not been a problem with me in society.

Blending in has only seems to have caused turmoil within my soul.

From opinions to downright rudeness I stand and listen to a sea of misdirected hate and unanswered questions.

Minding my own business my hearing was assaulted with grumblings of homophobic paranoia and stereotype.

“Why bring children into it?” He pondered. I stood there knowing that he would not fail in the delivery of his next line. In a slow southern drawl he practically sang the next line with conviction. “They shouldn’t force their ways on children by …” By what? I craved the completion of his sentence knowing it could be to my emotional demise. This small group of hens consisting of an older black man and two heavy set black women sat by the pool as I walked toward them to pick up my sandals I began to dry myself. As I wiped the water from my ears I could hear an older mans voice growling smoothly like a dog warning of an eminent attack he whispered loudly “perversion that’s all it is…” Silence came and for a moment it seemed as if I could not hear the waves in the pool. An awkward moment of silence, all speaking just stopped.
As I slowly wiped the water off my brow I noticed a friendly stare as they all looked my way. Without a second look they turned back to their circle and continued their conversation without further hesitation. “Those sodomites,” the gentleman quipped adding “and they do all those nasty things…” The ladies nodded in agreement to his depiction of the perverted. They had not given it a second thought that I was still in hearing range or that I might be one of those to whom they referred to perverse to raise children. One more glance I captured as wiped the towel across my wet body from one of the women who had been eyeing me ever since I penetrated the water of pool. She looked as if she understood but then the moment passed as she turned her attention back to her nest of judges. I thought to myself if I appeared gay would they have continued talking in front of me in this tone? Then I thought OMG they think I’m gay and that’s how the topic came up in the first place.
I began questioning myself – who am I? What am I? Why am I taking this so personal?
	Probing my mind for answers I only came up with a question; would I have sex with my wife in front of the children?
Why the assumption then? Just blending in. P.S. Dont blend in - Vote.

By Rudy Reed

I had taken the persona of a zombie as I walked down the aisle that constantly reminded me of my depression. Flashes of happier times appeared before me only to slowly fade away. Then I saw him sitting there...naked. Wearing nothing but a smile, his image wasn't as clear as it should have been. None of this really mattered...Even the heaviest of hazes would not be able to overpower the loving and gentle nature that he radiated.

 

"Is this what my life has become," I whispered so that no other zombie would be able to hear my thoughts.

I looked up once again at the Adonis that sat before me to mouth the words splashed across his chest, Mr. Right Is Out There. Could Dr. Kenneth George really know what I was going through? I sighed the word "yes" as I quickly snatched a copy of the book off the shelf and raced towards the check out counter as if I was buying porn on a Sunday. Who would have thought that a trip to the local Barnes and Noble could be so embarassing? I arrived home feeling slightly better than I once did. Deciding to start my process of self healing, I put on my favorite Air cd (Moon Safari), poured myself a glass of wine and threw myself onto my bed. I flipped through the crisp pages of advice to conclude that in order for me to find my prince Charming, there would be certain things that i would have to change about myself. For as long as I can remember I have been a shy guy. In order for me to find the man of my dreams, I would have to step outside of my confort zone and make myself more "available," at least this is what the Dr. suggests. Approaching men instead of waiting for them to speak to me first, giving other "types" of men that I am normally not attracted the opportunity to get to know me, and actually getting to know the individual through conversation before just jumping in the sack and thinking I am in love the next morning(although I am not guilty of that)are a few ideas that Dr. G prescribes. This made alot of sense, but of course it would be more difficult than it is said. Truthfully, I am content with being single at the moment. I believe it is never wise to try to rush love. It should just happen. I also realize that chances are very slim that my Prince Charming will awake me from a nap by knocking on my door. But if anyone ever hears that Maxwell, Lenny Kravitz, or Lorenz Tate has made a career change from the entertainment to work as a delivery man for UPS, please give me a call.

By Alonzo G.

 

How does my marriage threaten you? What if they protested straight marriage? Folks take a stand against men and women who want to love other men and women.   They say “Preserve sanctity.” Why not preserve hope, love, charity, good will, peace, understanding, forgiveness, and tolerance?

How many chapel doors have the same key as the courts of divorce, domestic violence, broken hearts, broken dreams, annulments and family division? If I am able to love then why are you not able to allow me to love? If you love me then why do you condemn me?

How does my marriage threaten you? Do you want me too? I chose to be straight in a world that chose to despise me. I was preached at all my life and taught to hate what was different. I chose to marry my wife to appease the crowd so that they would not think I was anything less than a man. I chose to deny my true nature and live amongst my peers only to be look through as if I had no soul. When I chose to be straight I chose to marry outside my race. My race sneered at me for not going black. My wife’s people were uncomfortable with me not being brown. My neighbors wanted to move because I was not white. School moms abandoned their friendship with my wife when I showed up to pick my son up from school. Strangers mocked us in public because I was married to a woman whose skin was fair while my skin was dark. I chose to prove to everyone that I was straight and struggled year by year with this agonizing pressure to be me. Was I a threat then? Am I a threat now?

Years gone by, people grew to accept our inter-racial love and finally began to respect our differences and see us as a couple and not an undercurrent of hate and fear. That’s when I woke up and discovered me. My marriage to the straight world ended after 23 years now I can do me. I fell in love from my heart this time; I met someone who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Struggling with the peeling off of layers of heterosexual conditioning I no longer wish to fight for who I am. I asked myself, if I could would I marry again? If I could marry the person I love will I be hated again because I married outside of my … Gender? Or should I say inside of my gender! Again I ask, how does my marriage threaten you? Anything different is perceived as a threat. Funny, you can’t even compare race to same-sex discrimination without offending someone. However, there was a time when I was looked upon with malice and spite because of such misdirected ignorance and hate. Now we are in the year 2008, as a couple I can live next door to you without any problems as long as I have no public show of affection. But dare I hold hands with the man I would marry and walk down our street? I can’t hide the fact that I am black but I can hide the fact that I am gay. The question is why should I have to hide at all?

Who are you to decide for me who I can love? What gives you the right to speak for God? Are you God? Reciprocation of love is all I desire and being made to feel desired is not a crime nor a sin. I don’t want to judge you nor do I need your judgment. Why do you care so much about my soul? Why not look in the mirror and judge yourself. I don’t have to take a position on who can legally get married because we all deserve civil rights. This is the land of the free. We are free to do whatever we want as long as it does not pose a threat to another person in any way. So again I ask, how does my marriage threaten you? If I marry a man will the whole world turn gay? Will it bring perversion into your neighborhood? Psst. I have news for you take a look around – its already there! Baby mamas, baby daddies, paternity denial, wedding ban lines appear on a ring-less finger and the question rages on just who’s doing who. I don’t know – ask your wife or maybe I should ask you– What’s in your wallet? Christians were once persecuted because of their belief. Non Christians were persecuted because of their non conformity. The “church” even killed those who failed to convert. Now you repeat history by condemning what from what I can see is fulfillment of prophesy. But then again this world has never really had peace. There are so many other things to protest against – world hunger – greed –violence – poverty – ignorance to name a few. So why do you care what goes on in the privacy of our home?

I haven’t walked down the aisle yet but when I do I can assure you it will bring you no harm. Think about it this way if you condemn gay marriage then you are condoning couples living together and premarital sex. Just my way of saying live and let live. Let God decide who is right and who is wrong. It’s sad that we can live in a neighborhood for most of our lives and not know the person who lives next door. I guess that makes it easier to protest against him. How does my marriage threaten you?

GLBT Organizations Build Bridges Between Generations of GLBT Storytellers

San Francisco, CA - July 4, 2008 – The Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual Transgender (GLBT) Historical Society and the Lambda Literary Foundation have joined forces to celebrate the contributions of three generations of GLBT Storytellers.

The two organizations will host a series of conversations, entitled “Passing On The Pen,” designed to pair some of the pioneers of GLBT literature with today’s emerging GLBT storytellers. “This is the first time anyone has ever done anything like this” says Michael Nava, author and winner of five Lambda Literary Awards. “It's a powerhouse lineup, bringing together some astonishing talent and people who I have read and respected for many years as well as some wonderful new writers.”

From March through December, the two organizations will present monthly events pairing authors from the early days of the GLBT movement with current day storytellers. Each event will be held in the gallery of the GLBT Historical society from 6:30 to 8:30, and will be free of charge and open to the public.

On July 8th, celebrated African-American queer storytellers Jewelle Gomez, the author of seven books including the double Lambda Literary Award-winning novel, The Gilda Stories; and Frederick Smith, the author of Down for Whatever and Right Side of the Wrong Bed will be the featured authors in the series.

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By Karen R. Long

Cleveland - Maya Angelou danced with Langston Hughes in Harlem, drank with James Baldwin in Paris, had her picture snapped in Ghana by Malcolm X. Six feet tall and mesmerizing, she had men crossing the room to call her the most beautiful woman on the planet, but few mistook her for arm candy.

 

Angelou turned 80 last month, unabashedly enjoying center stage at parties in four states, from an everybody-is-invited fete in Winston-Salem to an A-list gala in Palm Beach, Fla., hosted by surrogate daughter Oprah Winfrey. The decades have burnished Angelou's unique place on the American scene, cemented partly in Bill Clinton's decision to ask her to read an original poem for his 1993 inauguration.

Scholars describe Angelou as a Mother Figure and a Living Ancestor, while everyday readers still memorize and recite her words. She is reported to earn $43,000 each time she speaks.

In poems, film, plays and, most centrally, her six autobiographical books, Angelou's voice continues to casts its spell. "Caged Bird" has sold about 4 million copies and is third on the American Library Association's list of the 100 most challenged titles.

It has been parodied on "The Simpsons" ("I Don't Wanna Know Why the Caged Bird Sings") and lionized in book clubs. It tells of the author's rape at age 7 by her mother's boyfriend, of his subsequent slaying and her decision to stop speaking for some five years.

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By Thelma Boamah

Who needs a black, queer hero?

That was the question of the evening last Friday when two dozen playwrights, activists and scholars attended a discussion to address the black LGBT protagonist's place on the American stage at the Graduate Center for CUNY in Midtown. The discussion was cosponsored by Freedom Train Productions, an organization that promotes political theater written by up-and-coming black playwrights, and CUNY's Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies. The evening was moderated by Andre Lancaster, the artistic and managing director of FTP.

Playwright Aurin Squire said that the presence of black LGBT protagonists in his work was no coincidence.

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I wish I could remember how it happened. All I know (from family lore) is that, at age 5, I renounced plaid. Specifically, I renounced my wearing of plaid. And I haven't worn plaid since. Ever. That same magical year (1965) I also insisted on eating beets at every meal including breakfast. My mother is still stupified. I ate beets then for the same reason I eat beets now. They turn my urine red.

"Black Male" by S. Buck

Since the beginning, scientists have speculated on causes and orgins of human sexuality and desire. What is it, exactly, which makes A want to be with C and not B? Environment, nature, nuture. Maybe his mother was domineering and overbearing and his father was weak and distant. Perhaps as the second child and oldest boy he was coddled. Or maybe the mother was weak and overbearing and the father was distant and domineering. Or maybe it's all genetics. The debate is endless. Is the left side of the lesbian brain larger and more developed than the right?

When I was in high school I was very comfortable being a sexual non-entity. I was never teased, never called 'f****t', never nothing. A bookish, nerdy, skinny black boy is not viewed as a sexual threat. I saw how cruelly the 'exuberant' boys were treated and I wanted no part of it or of them. Truthfully, I wanted to be 'exuberant' as well but the price of admission to that club was way too high. A shame stemmed from my denial of them, and my denial of me seeing myself in them.

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The American Negro Playwright Theatre Events and ANPT Board member Kimberley LaMarque Invite you to participate as a Paid Judge For the 2008 National Forensics Association Championship Hosted by Tennessee State University April 18-21, 2008

Tennessee State University's Forensics Program is honored to host the 2008 National Forensics Association Championship Tournament, held April 18-21, 2008. We need your help judging a few rounds of this prestigious event. There will be prepared speeches, dramatic performance pieces and Lincoln Douglas Debate. If you are available, please contact Kimberley LaMarque for More Information, Tournament Schedule, and Judges Registration Form. 615-963-7491 · klamarque@tnstate.edu

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Sunday, July 20 – Saturday, July 26, 2008    American University, Washington, DC

Hurston/Wright Writers' Week is the nation's only multi-genre summer writer's workshop for writers of African descent with a tuition-free component for high school students. Since the first workshop in the summer of 1996, over 850 writers have attended the weeklong program of classes and presentations by publishers, agents, and writers.

The Week brings together Black writers from around the United States, as well as Black writers from the Caribbean, Africa, and Europe, who create a nurturing, safe space to discuss their work, its meaning, and unique aesthetics. Hurston/Wright Writers' Week is distinguished by the diversity of the writers it attracts: published, unpublished, college students, high school students, seniors, retirees, professionals - all chosen to participate in the Week on the strength of their writing.

Perhaps the highest accolade given to the workshop is the number of participants who have returned to their communities, and inspired by Hurston/Wright Writers' Week, have formed community workshops and support groups for Black writers.

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I want to tell you a little story about a woman that I know named Naomi. I had the pleasure of meeting her many years ago, and my memory of her is one of strength and perseverance. We've had many conversations over the years; conversations where she actually invited me into the inner recesses of her life.

Soul of a Woman by Albert Fennell

She didn't think that there was anything overly extraordinary about herself. As a matter of fact, she describes herself as being just another working mother that was out there trying to do the best she could. But as I listened to her recite the high and low points of her life, it became crystal clear that she wasn't the average black woman

She survived a physically abuse marriage. She told me that after the birth of her third child, she realized that things weren't going to get any better for herself and her children, and it was in that realization that she summoned the courage to pack their bags, hop on a Greyhound bus and leave the man that she loved…the man that had become everything except the man that she thought he would be. She went on to say that she willingly put her life on the backburner, opting instead to raise her sons the only way that she knew how.

When she left, she didn't have much money, but she had family, and it was in the love of her family that she took solace. She strove to make sure that her sons never knew that they didn't have a lot. Never a day went by where they didn't have lunch money. They went on class trips, proms, dates - and she filled their lives with many happy Christmas's and memorable birthdays. Throughout all that, she admitted to me that there were many nights that she cried herself to sleep because of her loneliness, but she hid her pain from her sons. She said that it was her love that she wanted to share, not her pain or disappointment.

She told me that she wanted to instill in each one of her son's a strong sense of pride, placing particular emphasis on family. She said that she wanted them to remember family because in this day in age, she believed family was all you had.

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NEW YORK - Terry McMillan has been honored with a lifetime achievement award from Essence magazine for her best-selling, irreverent novels about the everyday struggles of modern American black women.

"No single writer today has documented the African-American experience from a contemporary black women's point of view like Terry McMillan," said Patrik Henry Bass, a senior editor at Essence for books and art.

McMillan's best-known books are "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" and "Waiting to Exhale." Both were made into movies.

McMillan, 56, has a long history with Essence. As a journalism student at the University of California at Berkeley, McMillan won an Essence essay contest in 1974 for a piece on black male-female relationships.

The award-winning author and nominees in eight other literary categories were nominated by the editors of Essence. Afterward, a panel of experts in the black publishing field selected the winners.

McMillan and the other winners were to attend the Essence Literary Awards ceremony Thursday evening.

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OPEN FOR SUBMISSION: FEBRUARY 4 – MARCH 4, 2008

If you are working on an exciting emerging fields, literature, or performing arts project we encourage you to apply in our upcoming grant round. For general information and guidelines, please visit: http://creative-capital.org/application/

To apply for a Creative Capital grant, you must first submit an Inquiry Form regarding your project. Tell us about your project and how, in conjunction with a Creative Capital grant, it will be catalytic for your artistic and professional growth. In addition, you will need to describe the influences that inform your work and how your work takes an inventive and original approach to form and content. Be prepared to present a basic budget and to identify the audience(s)or your project and any possible presenting venues.

The Guidelines and Inquiry Form for will be available on the Creative Capital website from February 4 to March 4, 2008. It will be available at http://creative-capital.org/application/
http://creative-capital.org/evites/2008grant.html

The Ugandan writer who won the Caine Prize for African Writing with a story about lesbianism, often a taboo topic in Africa, says she is "very excited".
Monica Arac de Nyeko beat four other finalists to get the $20,000 (£10,000) prize for her story Jambula Tree.

It is about a relationship between young girls in a country where homosexuality is illegal.

By Ellen Wulfhorst and Tanzina Vega

New York - For Nigerian novelist Chinua Achebe, winner of the Man Booker International Prize, the honour means the world has heard the stories he felt he needed to tell about his struggling homeland.

Achebe, often called the father of modern African literature, says he set out 50 years ago to write in the voice of an African, not of a white ruler or colonial power.

His first effort became his most acclaimed book, "Things Fall Apart," published in 1958. It has sold more than 10 million copies and been translated into 50 languages.

"I write to be read and to be acknowledged," said Achebe, 76, in an interview at his home in Annandale, New York.

by Michelle Pauli

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, fresh from her triumph at the Orange awards earlier this month, has been shortlisted for the UK's oldest and most literary of book awards.

Nigerian-born Adichie, who is just 29, is in the running for the £10,000 James Tait Black Memorial prize with Half of a Yellow Sun, her epic tale of the Biafra war. Already a bestseller, with a sales boost from its Richard and Judy book club endorsement, it inspired a rare unanimity in the Orange judges who praised it as "astonishing" for its "power, ambition and skill".

By Senan Murray

Growing up in a house once occupied by famous Nigerian novelist Chinua Achebe was "a lovely coincidence", Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie says, but it may have been where she first caught the literary bug.


For an impressionable seven-year-old daughter of a professor, living in Mr Achebe's former house on the university campus in the south-eastern town of Nsukka must have had a profound effect on young Ms Adichie.

The campus features heavily in both of her highly acclaimed novels.

It was also the beginning of her walk in the footsteps of Nigeria's other Igbo literary giants such as Cyprian Ekwensi and Chukwuemeka Ike.

"He is a remarkable man. The writer and the man. He's what I think writers should be," Ms Adichie says of Chinua Achebe, whose 1958 book, Things Fall Apart, earned him global acclaim.

Nigerian author Chinua Achebe has won the Man Booker International Prize in honour of his literary career.

Achebe is best known for his 1958 debut novel Things Fall Apart, which sold more than 10 million copies.

The 76-year-old, who was paralysed from the waist down after a car accident in 1990, beat writers including Ian McEwan and Salman Rushdie to the honour.

He was born to an affluent family in the Haitian capital of Port-au-Prince in 1907, and spent much of the first 20 years of his life at schools in Belgium and Switzerland.

But there are few literary voices that have spoken more eloquently of the plight of Haiti's peasantry than that of Jacques Roumain. As the author of the timeless peasant fable "Gouverneurs de la Rosée" (Masters of the Dew), the centenary of Roumain's birth this year has thrown a spotlight on both Haiti's dizzyingly rich -- and often overlooked -- literary tradition, as well as the persistence of the problems that Roumain addressed in his iconic work, first published in 1943