During fertilization the sperm fuses with egg ushering forth the development of fruit in the plant. Queer men fuse together not just different archetypes of masculine, feminine, and Androgyne essences, but different polarities of male energies within themselves and their partner. This fusion is fruitful in that it creates new life, uniting together a duo of doubles, illuminating the differences in sameness and non-duality.
Content warning: mentions of sexual assault, drug abuse, racialized violence and homophobia. All names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
While you read, listen to our collectively curated playlist of planted seeds/songs at your leisure!
Shahem Carmichael — Senior — Black/African
Top 3 Songs/Seeds
“MacArthur Park Suite,” by Donna Summer
“Sodom and Gomorrah,” by Village People
“WASTE,” by Brockhampton
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
How does your Queerness (or Queer identity) inform your other social identities (thinking along the lines of race, ethnicity, nationality, body size, gender, sex, spiritual affiliation, religion, class, physical ability, etc.)?
Being Black and Queer is difficult because there’s a lot of homophobia in the Black community that has been imposed on us by white supremacy and colonialism. I feel like Black men are often perceived to be hypermasculine and that’s how we are perceived in the media. I think that Black men that reject that being of behaving, there’s a lot of scrutiny placed on them because of the past where Black men are punished for expressing themselves in authentic ways. Especially looking back to slavery when Black men would be emasculated by white slave owners or sexually assaulted. So historically over time after slavery there’s been an ideal in the Black community that Black men have to be rough and emotionless or whatnot.
In regards to class, it’s also hard because Queerness places a big emphasis on looks and beauty standards. So for people who can’t really fit those standards, it’s really isolating if you’re not falling into the way that the culture suggests how you dress and look.
In terms of spirituality, this is something that really eludes me and that I’m trying to still figure out a lot. When I think about my spirituality and my sexuality, they’re very intertwined because I’m reminded that at the end of the day our physical bodies are just a facade, and we are really just energetic beings, and we exist on so many other dimensional levels, and also our lives our temporary and these bodies are temporary. I’m often reminded by this because there’s a way we’ve been conditioned to view Queerness that is not necessarily a reality. It’s a lie that we’ve been conditioned to believe by colonialism and other forces that profit off of vilifying homosexuality.
With religion, if you are faithfully interpreting the Bible in like a hermeneutical standpoint and really considering it from all these different ways, you will find that there is an abundance of evidence that supports a lot of different Queer readings and interpretations of it.
Do you think there’s truly a lack of out Queer men of Color on campus and in the world? If yes, why?
It honestly depends on what you define as Queer. It’s kind of hard because I think we view ourselves in a diluted dualistic view of life: man or woman, black or white, gay or straight fall into that. We are all changing so energetic in the moment that what one person may believe their sexuality is usually due to how they’ve been programmed by society, how they’ve been socialized, how they’ve been grown up to believe and to perceive, and undoing that programming is an energetic and psychic thing that people can’t turn off because there are so many different layers and levels to it. So I think there are a lot of men who may behave in Queer ways. Does that make them Queer? When you look at the way patriarchal society has been constructed, the contradictions within it make it very homoerotic.
I think there’s a perceived lack because it takes a lot for people to come out, and coming out is a very vulnerable thing and brave thing for people to do because it’s a major risk you are doing. When you’re coming out of the closet you’re changing the way people perceive you. Once you come out there’s no coming back. So I feel like why it may seem like there is a lack is because there are people who are not brave enough to be who they are because they are scared and wrapped in shame so they repress all that. So I don’t really think there’s a lack on campus or in the world and I think it shows by more and more people coming out every day or questioning themselves more and more every day or identifying in Queer ways every day.
How might your perceptions of homoscarcity affect how you view other Queer men of Color? Does it differ for Queer men of Color within versus outside your race? What about Queer white men? What are your beliefs about how other Queer men of diverse racial demographics view you?
When it comes to Queer Black men, something I’ve noticed is that, especially on this campus, it’s hard to discern whether it’s right to act on emotions or feelings with another because you interact with them in this small space. I think it’s especially pertinent for other Black Queer men because a lot of us have mutual friends who are Black so it can make it messy in a way that is just not conducive. So sometimes I’ll think about why am I hesitant to be in a relationship with or be involved with other Queer Black men on campus. There are times where I am intimate with others and it feels nice because we are so similar in some ways and it can be beautiful to have that connection across cultural lines because we have similar experiences.
In terms of just Queer men of Color as a whole, including Black men, I feel like my relationships with them tend to be really rife with conflict and disagreement and competition. I feel like sometimes because demographically we share such similar traits, I feel like I compare myself to other Queer men of Color and sometimes that comparison ends up me being a competitive person. So for me I feel like the relationships I have that are the most unfulfilling are those with Queer men of Color
What racialized scripts (or stereotypes) have you witnessed, encountered or enacted in Queer, relational life?
For me, if I’m with a white man I’m not going to be compelled to not be submissive. I’m usually more dominant because I’m fulfilling that stereotype. But also sometimes I play into it myself. I think in part, it has to do with mass programming. Just like what we’ve been programmed with, what you see and media like that. Unlearning that takes time even if it’s not necessarily my actual feelings and beliefs, it’s still controlled in some ways. If I’m with any dude of Color, I feel like it doesn’t really matter, like what position or role that I am playing in sex and just generally speaking.
How has the social-digital mediation of sexuality impacted Queer culture (think along the lines of social media and dating and hook-up apps)? In what ways do your digital interactions inform your analog (physical) experiences?
I feel like there are three things that most people are very attached to. Those three things are social media, drugs/alcohol and sex. There’s a lot of connections between creativity and sex because sex is a creative act, it is literally creating life. As something that is exciting and alluring, even addicting in some ways I think that the digital world makes all of that more accessible — too accessible. It blurs the lines and blurs people’s ideas of what should be done. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should do something. Apps like Grindr, because they are owned by corporations that seek to make money and be profitable, all the standards and values go out the window because it makes hooking up with people so accessible. And that is hard for me on an energetic level because when you are with someone, those chords are still attached.
What do you believe is the origin of (your) homo-social desire? In other words, what compels or propels you to purposefully seek relation with other men of the same sex?
Part of what makes (homosexuality) so exhilarating is the fact that it is so taboo, it is so stigmatized, because thinking back to what eroticism is and what it entails is that it transgresses social norms. And because you are transgressing those social norms it makes Queer sex and relationships so much more arousing and exciting on a psychic level because you are breaking those boundaries and whatnot. As someone who is a thrill seeker, I feel like that is why I am drawn to relationships to men. It’s just funny to see people’s reactions when you do defy the norms because a lot of times when people are retaliating it’s because they see you doing something that they are insecure about themselves.
Does the top/bottom binary perpetuate patriarchal modes of relation?
I don’t know honestly. There’s a lot of power in being vulnerable because you make yourself the object of attraction and you become the one that is sought after. You’re siphoning someone’s energy. Not knowing what’s going on or seeing what’s happening behind you and the pleasure of being a top is having that advantage point of dominance of being in control. In relationships where people are very clear in what you want you can have that role of playing with power, which can be fun. But tops can get carried away with it and violate people’s boundaries. But I do ultimately think that because tops play the highest level of aggression and penetration I think that does allow us to replicate patriarchy because there is a belief that people should fall into these roles even outside of a sexual act.
How might Queer men of Color find purpose and meaning in a life of multiple marginalization?
Sometimes we behave in ways that other people have socially conditioned us to behave. So part of my process of becoming who I am is unattachment from what society believes, what mass programming believes, what the collective wants me to believe about myself or act. But because of our free will, we have the autonomy to express ourselves in any way we want. We’re always on a journey, this body and this life. Sometimes you just have to embrace that this is all an illusion. We have the autonomy to do what we want.
Aaron Sabina — Senior — Latino/Hispanic
Top 3 Songs/Seeds
“Pray,” by Sam Smith
“Him,” by Sam Smith
“Used to Know Me,” by Charli XCX
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
How does your Queerness (or Queer identity) inform your other social identities (thinking along the lines of race, ethnicity, nationality, body size, gender, sex, spiritual affiliation, religion, class, physical ability, etc.)?
Being Latino and coming from a family that hasn’t been exposed to out gay people has really impacted the way I perceive my racial identity and if I even fit into the community. Within the culture there’s a pretty rigid definition of what makes a man a man. Part of that comes with supporting a wife and being able to do things traditional straight men have done in the past. Also, just the simple things of being a hard-worker or a laborer — my family’s working class individuals, my grandparents are immigrants, so not feeling the typical mode of having to work and do those things to provide. I’ve felt my masculinity has been lacking in that aspect because I thought masculinity meant having to use tools.
Body size is another big one. I don’t fit that specific type of body — white, slim to muscular … Either you’re slim to fit the white twink model or you’re muscular to fit like the way tough gay guy like you see on social media or in gay movies or TV shows. It’s always the same type of person.
How might this perceived scarcity inform how you relate to yourself and others (of closely similar and widely distinct demographics)? (How does this impact your relationships with and within the Queer community as a whole?)
I think when interacting with (other) Queer men of Color it’s easier to relate to them. Like if we were to become friends or even hooking up, it’s easier to unconsciously understand both of our experiences. Additionally, there’s no fear or thought that they’re going to immediately not be interested, whether that’s through a friendship or relationship. For me personally, it’d be nice to have Latino Queer male of Color relationships or friendships just because it adds intimacy on a deeper level through culture and traditions.
What racialized scripts (or stereotypes) have you witnessed, encountered or enacted in Queer, relational life?
I’d say specifically in Latino culture presenting myself as the man and being more masculine, such as wanting to provide for my partner, being the more dominant in a relationship and basically like the one who has the pants — like in a non-toxic way … like not forcing someone to listen to me and doing the things I do in an altruistic way.
I was raised that a man should care for their wife, pay for their costs and be able to care for them, so that’s how I’m continuing the stereotypes I’d say.
I think I’m definitely unconsciously trying to make up for those perceptions of me being less masculine by being more masculine in a (Queer) relationship. Because on the outside looking in they would see me doing that and they’d think, “Oh, he’s the man of the relationship.”
How does your perception of masculinity mold the way you act, speak and present yourself? In what ways does this perception inform your same-sex relationships and experiences?
I’ve sort of conditioned myself to try to act more masculine by trying to relate to straight men on certain things or not portraying myself as “a typical gay guy” — like talking like a girl or sitting more femininely. (Gay men) typically talk faster and with a higher pitch. They carry out their vowels more … Even though I’m still maintaining a certain standard that’s influenced by masculinity, when I’m in a same-sex relationship I’m more relaxed and less purposeful about the way I act or speak. It’s hard to explain, it feels like just a natural transition based on the two different environments.
How does your clothing and sense of style communicate or conceal your Queerness?
Oh god. They conceal it 100%. It isn’t purposeful, I just don’t know how to dress. I like to wear shorter shorts in the summer but then again everyone does now. I usually just wear what’s comfortable or what I like. My style’s very basic. If I’m not wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, I like to wear jeans and a button-up and a shirt underneath.
How does your Queerness operate energetically? To what degree does the context, circumstances, social codes, etc. inform — consciously or subconsciously — how you navigate the world?
I’d say when I’m in a comfortable space where I’m openly proud of my identity, there’s like good energy pulsing around. I’m happy and there’s not a lot of worries. It’s easier to explain when I’m back home, for example, in a different, straighter environment. I don’t have that energy there. And I feel a limiting on myself. There’s less good pulses. Here the majority of the time I’m good, academically and socially whether at a party or bar/club. I don’t have any worry … it can be worrisome to be with another man in public at times but it’s nice and comfortable to know that people around you also know like, “Oh they’re on a date” — it’s kind of empowering because growing up I never saw that.
How might we cleanse ourselves from homophobia at the psychic level?
For that to happen you have to physically move yourself into an accepting environment. If you can’t move environments then I think finding a partner can definitely help — having the comfort of someone being a home.
How has the social-digital mediation of sexuality impacted Queer culture (think along the lines of social media and dating and hook-up apps)? In what ways do your digital interactions inform your analog (physical) experiences?
I think social media has made being gay a lot more hypersexual. I think perceiving the best male physique online created a following because people like that. (I mostly see it) on Twitter … When I see someone who fits that perfect body standard I get self-conscious, ‘cause I think I’d be more desirable if I looked like that. I think it also affects how we view others who don’t look like that. Because all this sexual media for gays, it continues to reinforce their sexual desires at all times, and that can ruin relationships and I think that’s a very common experience for gay people. Because the digital world was one of the safest outlets for Queer men to release their desires, like it’s different than going to a porno store and buying a paper magazine cause versus looking it up on the internet on private browsing mode; no one’s gonna know. Because of that it’s accelerated the way gay men consume images and porn. It makes them super sexual.
Is homoscarcity a myth? How can we as Queer men of Color combat this idea of perceived homoscarcity? How can we shift away from viewing Queerness as scarce to abundant?
I don’t think it’s a myth. I think it’s reality just based on traditional Brown and Black traditions and cultures and ideas of masculinity because of past generations. People have only started coming out relatively early compared to all of history. I know homoscarcity isn’t a myth for the amount of gay people, but for the amount of “out” people. I think there are Queer men of Color who are able to suppress their Queerness.
Conclusion (Ripening)
So … is homoscarcity a myth? The wide-spread misconception that there is a heterosexual majority in the world appears to require a relentless nexus of repressive ideological structures, strung together over centuries through colonial brutality, patriarchal violence and capitalist exploitation. Do only a mere fraction of Queer men (of Color) exist on campus, in this world or are only a few handful of men able to fearlessly be in touch with the totality of our true nature?
This is not to say every straight-identifying man is secretly a homosexual or any sentiment similar of the sorts, but simply that there is significant value in allowing ourselves to question and Queer the utterly complex inclinations our body, soul, spirit and mind, moving away and coming out the binds of heteronormativity.
Our diverse cultures are unique yet united in the shared understanding of a love that knows no biological bounds or binaries. Through love, we have learned to survive, thrive in the everlasting revival of life, a return to our natural state of relational life.
As we blossom into our fuller forms, we should recall that at the root of our personhood, our purpose is to be like a flower — infinitely distinct from every other thing, never trying to fit precariously into a mold that cannot hold space for it. In bloom, we boldly accept ourselves, letting go of the noxious notions that our oddities, our idiosyncrasies, our Queerness is condemnable.
We can no longer allow the manufactured falsehoods of homoscarcity to hinder us from flourishing as our true selves, planted firmly on the path towards liberation, dwelling in (de)light, in darkness, dimensions seen, unseen and in between. Every instance in which we branch out, bravely, is one in which we so sincerely sow the seeds of courage in another who may still be sprouting themselves … in the midst of the most vulnerable, ongoing process of outing themselves. Sounds a little fruity to me. Am I ripe?
The Homoscarcity Chronicles is divided into five parts. Click the link to view the Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.
Former MiC Assistant Editor Hugo Quintana can be reached at hugoq@umich.edu.