From glbpoc-owner Thu Feb 22 12:44:20 1996 Received: (from root@localhost) by abacus.oxy.edu (8.6.10/8.6.11) id MAA23281; Thu, 22 Feb 1996 12:44:20 -0800 Date: Thu, 22 Feb 1996 12:44:20 -0800 Message-Id: <199602222044.MAA23281@abacus.oxy.edu> To: glbpoc-owner@abacus.oxy.edu From: glbpoc-owner@abacus.oxy.edu Subject: BOUNCE glbpoc@abacus.oxy.edu: Non-member submission from [NBGLLF@aol.com] Status: RO Content-Length: 19499 X-Lines: 280 >From glbpoc-owner Thu Feb 22 12:44:13 1996 Received: from emout04.mail.aol.com (emout04.mail.aol.com [198.81.10.12]) by abacus.oxy.edu (8.6.10/8.6.11) with ESMTP id MAA23268 for ; Thu, 22 Feb 1996 12:44:11 -0800 From: NBGLLF@aol.com Received: by emout04.mail.aol.com (8.6.12/8.6.12) id PAA28522; Thu, 22 Feb 1996 15:43:58 -0500 Date: Thu, 22 Feb 1996 15:43:58 -0500 Message-ID: <960222154357_329981732@emout04.mail.aol.com> To: glbpoc@abacus.oxy.edu, BMWHRD@aol.com, Vallerie.D.Wagner@jpl.nasa.gov, Tmoreno1@aol.com, DRHOLMESMD@aol.com, Sigma01@aol.com, Gayblkmn@aol.com, Linvil@aol.com, GDaffin@aol.com, Rbabe@aol.com, MandyC1995@aol.com, PhillBGLLF@aol.com, QueenCT@aol.com, ELLIOTEGO@aol.com, Ncmobe96@aol.com Subject: Remarks by NBGLLF Exec. Dir. (long) "WAITING TO EXHALE" Remarks Prepared for Delivery at the National Black Lesbian & Gay Conference February 17, 1996 (Dallas, Texas) By Keith Boykin Good Evening. Thank you very much for joining us here tonight. I would like to begin by acknowledging some of the hard-working souls who have labored so long to make this conference a success. I want to tell you the truth about this conference. Two months ago, we weren't even sure we were having this conference. We had no hotel, no schedule, no presenters, no speakers, no vendors, nothing. Because the Leadership Forum is undergoing a major restructuring, we weren't even sure we could afford to have this conference. An eight-year tradition was about to come to an end. But thanks to the hard work and dedication of many people, we are gathered here today in Texas at the Ninth Annual National Black Lesbian and Gay Conference. I don't want anybody to mislead you. Putting on a conference is always hard work. It requires nearly a year of advance planning and thought, and even then last minute developments, unexpected snow storms, and other crises can throw things off schedule. But if you think that's hard, putting on a conference in two months is an amazing challenge. So I want to begin tonight by saluting those individuals who have labored so diligently to make this event happen. I want to thank the Conference Co-Chairs Vallerie Wagner, Gregory May, and Steve Walker. I want to thank the Dallas Co-Chairs Nadine Rawls and Ronald Jefferson. I want to thank the AIDS Prevention Team staff in Los Angeles. And I want to thank all those volunteers, including members of the board of directors of the Leadership Forum, who staffed the tables, monitored the workshops, planned the schedules, secured the rooms, arranged the entertainment, located the volunteers, and led committees to plan this weekend. Thanks to all of you. This is only my third conference of the Black Gay & Lesbian Leadership Forum, but already I feel like a veteran. I hate to sound nostalgic, but my first conference only two years ago in Secaucus, New Jersey seems like ancient history. That was back in the day when the Democrats controlled Congress. Back in the day when white people still loved O. J. Simpson. Back in the day when no one brought a cell phone to the awards banquet. And back in the day when Michael Jackson was still single. Well, I guess some things haven't changed much. I've been asking everybody to do mental exercise routines this weekend, and I want to continue that tradition right now. I call this next exercise "Waiting to Exhale." So put down your glasses, forks and knives, papers and pens, and business cards for a moment. Grab the hands of the people sitting next to you, and on my count, take a deep, deep, deep breath. I want everybody to join in and inhale. Ready, inhale, 1-2-3-4, and now slowly exhale, 1-2-3-4. Keep you hands together for one more time, and I want you to concentrate. I want you to feel the tension leaving your body. Absorb the positive energy of your neighbor. Experience the collective warmth and the power of this room. Ready, inhale the strength, the hope, the optimism. And now slowly exhale the anxiety, the frustration, the doubt, the fear. You can let go now. This exercise is important because I want to talk to you tonight about waiting to exhale. . . Not the Terry Macmillan book or the hit movie, but I want to talk about the thought. Waiting to Exhale. And I want to start by recalling a moment from Scripture. I'm not concerned about what faith you are, if you are Jew, Gentile, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Spiritualist or Agnostic. It matters not if you attend First, Second or Third Baptist Church, Mosque #19, 20 or 21. I want to talk to you about faith. Not only the religious type of faith, but the faith we have in our brothers and sisters, the faith we have in our families and friends, the faith we have in our communities, the faith we have in our hearts and our souls, and most importantly, the faith we have in ourselves. Recall in the book of Luke, chapter 24, when a group of women came to the tomb of Jesus, and they found the stone rolled away from the grave. And they entered in, and found not the body of Jesus. And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shining garments. And as they were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth, the two men said unto them, why seek ye the living among the dead? . . . Why seek ye the living among the dead? I want to talk about that tonight in the context of "Waiting to Exhale" because when I read the book and when I saw the movie, I saw strong, beautiful African Americans sitting around, standing around waiting for someone, not just anyone, but someone to come galloping down the streets of downtown Phoenix on a horse and sweep them off their feet. And many of us know that feeling. We know what it's like to go out week after week, to club after club, bar after bar, play after play, even city after city, desperately seeking Mr. or Ms. Right, or both. We're tired of holding our breath. We're tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop in our relationships. Or sometimes, as civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer said, you're just sick and tired of being sick and tired. So we have a desire to settle down. We just want find that special someone, who's gonna make us feel allright, who's gonna make us feel special. You know, sometimes you just want somebody to treat you like you deserve to be treated. Believe me, I understand that feeling. But when it comes to our community, our people, we cannot just sit around and wait to exhale. We can't wait for Prince or Princess Charming to come riding in and save us. We have to save ourselves. As it says in the Bible, "the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and yet, we are not saved." You see, we can't wait for the NAACP, the SCLC, GMHC, the CDC, CBC or HRC, we have to see for ourselves. Because nobody, nobody can free us but ourselves. And nobody can free us from ourselves but ourselves. We've gotta pull ourselves together. We've gotta stop waiting for a savior to appear. We can't wait for another Martin Luther King, Jr.. We can't wait for another Harriet Tubman. We can't wait for another Malcolm X or Marcus Garvey. Dr. King himself said, "I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say 'wait.'" but we cannot afford that luxury today. Not when Pat Buchanan wants to put us in jail and Pat Robertson wants to put us in hell. Not when Newt Gingrich and Jesse Helms and Strom Thurmond and Bob Dornan are making the laws of this land. Not when Clarence Thomas is supposed to represent the opinions of black America. Not when Bob Dole wants to abandon affirmative action. Not when 435 mostly white men in an ivory-towered dome want to micromanage women's bodies when they can't even manage the body of Congress. Not when the state of Texas wants to police the bedrooms of lesbians, bisexuals and gay men. Not when Congress is poised to eliminate or reduce every major initiative of the Great Society and the New Deal. No, mam or sir, we cannot wait. It's time to tell Newt and the boys to get your petty, little money-grubbing, budget-slashing, race-baiting, gay-bashing hands off of Medicaid, off of Medicare, off of Head Start, off of Pell Grants, and off of Ryan White. That's why we can't wait. The National Black Gay & Lesbian Leadership Forum is not your savior. The NAACP is not your savior. The National Gay & Lesbian Task Force is not your savior. They are well-intentioned organizations, but they cannot function if you don't help them. This week, the NAACP will be swearing in Congressman Kweisi Mfume as its new Executive Director. But let me tell you something, Kweisi Mfume is not Moses. Barney Frank is not Moses. And you already know, that I'm nowhere near being Moses. I did not accept this job expecting to lead black gay and lesbian people out of the desert and into the promised land. Leadership is not just about running an organization, running up bills, or running our mouths. Leadership is about getting your act together and then helping other people do the same. Leadership is about service. Jesus said to his disciples, "She that is greatest among you shall be your servant." In one of his last sermons, Dr. King explained what Jesus meant. Jesus was saying that anybody can be great because anybody can serve. The great leaders of human history were not immaculately conceived; they were born of human parents. They had faults. They were not perfect. But when they saw a worthy challenge, they seized it. They accepted the responsibility. They knew, in the immortal words of Dr. Calvin Rolark, "If it is to be; it's up to me." If it is to be; it's up to me. Where would South Africa be today if an ordinary citizen, a little-known boxer, named Nelson Mandela had decided to wait for a savior before he took arms against injustice? Where would the lesbian and gay community be if a group of black and Latino drag queens in Greenwich Village decided to wait for a savior instead of fighting back against the police during a routine raid at a small gay bar called Stonewall in 1969? Where would the black community be if an obscure seamstress in Montgomery, Alabama named Rosa Parks had decided on a cold December evening in 1955 to wait for a savior instead of refusing to give up her seat on the bus when the driver asked her to move for a white man? Where would this nation be if ordinary people throughout its history sat around waiting to exhale instead of taking a deep breath, exhaling their fears, and then charging forward to challenge the racist, sexist, misogynist, classist, homophobic, sexphobic, AIDS-phobic, transgenderphobic status quo? Where would we be? I submit to you, that we would be in the same graveyard where Mary Magdalene stumbled across Jesus while looking for the living among the dead. We spend too much time wallowing in our own misery, lamenting the absence of the leaders of yesterday but all the while betraying their spirits by failing to carry forward the torches they passed onto us. Audre Lorde did not expect that her message would disappear when the messenger was gone. James Baldwin did not expect that his words would evaporate into thin air without provoking future generations to carry forth the struggle. And surely, Barbara Jordan did not wish that the meaning of her life would be forgotten by those well-intentioned admirers who would deify her in death without carrying on her legacy in the work of their lives. What would the late Rev. James Cleveland have said if he knew that a day would come when he did not have to live his life in the closet? Imagine the expression on the face of Benjamin Banneker, a black gay man, if he could have seen a gathering like this one when he was laying out the plans for Washington, DC 200 years ago. Bessie Smith, Wallace Thurman, Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes would be amazed if they could see that black homosexuality and bisexuality were not merely something to hide in a Harlem speakeasy but something to celebrate in a Dallas hotel room. All these individuals would want you to tell the stories of our people throughout herstory. They would want you to remember how far you have come. Before we were African American, or black, or negroes, or even colored, when we were just plain "niggers." Before we were the transgender, lesbian, bisexual, gay and questioning community, when we were just homosexuals, or when we were Uranists or when we had a little sugar in our tanks, or when were simply fags and dykes. You don't have to go back to Socrates, Aristophanes, Euripides or Sophocles to find the history of lesbians and gays. You can find it in the black community as well. But what is the point of knowing history if you don't learn from it? What is the point of remembering the struggles of the past if you do not continue the struggle into the future? The black lesbians and gay men from the past would look at us today and see reflections of themselves in us. They would see their spirits alive and immortal in the group of people here tonight. And they would say, why seek ye the living among the dead? You won't find Audre Lorde or Bayard Rustin buried underneath the ground in a cemetery. Their presence is greater than any human form can contain. Bayard and Audre and Essex and Dannitra are living inside of all of us. If they could be here tonight, they would all look at this gathering and say, my, how far you have come. When you think back about the people who were in Los Angeles at the very first conference and reflect on those who were there who have passed away, you must realize how proud they would be of what you have done. Who would have thought that a small, ragtag group of black lesbians and gay men in Los Angeles could create a national black lesbian and gay organization? Who would have thought that we would have an Internet Web Site? Who would have thought that we would ever march down Pennsylvania Avenue into a sea of one million black men, while chanting and carrying signs that said "black by birth/gay by God/proud by choice"? Who would have thought that that small L.A.-based organization could create a national board of directors and hire an executive director? Who would have thought that a conference would grow into an organization with an Aids Prevention Team? Who would have thought that the organization would grow into a movement, that the conference would grow into a tradition? Who would have imagined these wild and crazy ideas at the first conference in Los Angeles? I know how far we've come because I know how far I've come from the time the Forum started in 1988. I remember my senior year in college when a woman at a fraternity party asked me to dance, and I did. And I remember the horror and shock I felt when after our dance, she penetrated right through me and asked me if I was gay. And I said "no." I remember when I did finally come out in school, and I thought I was the only black gay man on earth. Never in my dreams could I have imagined that a day would come when I would be standing in a room, as I am tonight, with my sister, my mom and her husband, and hundreds of beautiful black gay men and lesbians. When I think back to the beginning, I know and appreciate the work of this organization. Look how far we've come from last year. Look how far we've come from 1988. We've come this far, by faith. But we have farther to go, by faith. This weekend is not just an opportunity to catch a special holiday sale. This is a weekend to reconnect, to charge our batteries as we go back to our communities. The road ahead is long and bumpy. But your response to that news must not be to surrender to negativity. We have to end the petty backstabbing and rumor mongering. We have to stop destroying each other, and start building each other. We cannot give in to the temptation of defeatism. We must fight against it. And we don't fight against it by merely pointing our fingers without lifting a finger to do something constructive. We are co-conspirators in our destruction if we blame other people and don't claim responsibility ourselves. We have too much work to do to be fighting one other. We have too much work to do not to be supporting one another. We need to build alliances with the NAACP, SCLC, Children's Defense Fund, National Black Women's Political Caucus and others. We need to create a public policy arm that allows us to be involved in the important debates of the day. We need to increase the visibility of black lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and transgendered people in the media. We need to register thousands of our people to vote in the 1996 elections. We need to launch an anti-racism campaign to confront racial bias in the gay white community. We need to arrange a national black church conference on homosexuality so that we can stop the conspiracy of silence and lies in the black church. We need to fully fund the Call to Resist campaign so we can stop the radical right from intruding into the black church. We need to create an information network of every black lesbian or gay organization, business, publication or nightclub throughout the country. We need to establish a national job bank so we can connect employers with employees in a nationwide database. We need to establish a permanent leadership training school to continue the work of this conference year-round. We need to be involved and supporting the lesbian and gay students at historically black colleges and universities. We need to stop complaining about the absence of people of color in the mainstream gay movement and start using our resources to locate and identify available black lesbians and gay men in every state of the union who can be plugged into their campaigns. I appreciate the work of HRC, NGLTF, Lambda, the Victory Fund and GLAAD, but I don't want to give them or anybody else any more reasons why they can't find more people of color to be in their work and in their media campaigns and on their staffs. We can't do any of these things without your support. We can't do them without your energy and skills and contacts. And we absolutely can't do them without your money. Yes, I said your money. We need to talk about this money thing. Because you can't eat Filet Mignon on a Burger King budget. You can't tackle all the problems I've mentioned tonight on the budget we have now. When other organizations tried to do too many things at once, they failed. Their eyes were bigger than their checking accounts. So many great ideas have been lost and so much time wasted because we did not support our own. The Third World Conference of Lesbians & Gay Men from the 1970s and the National Coalition of Black Lesbians & Gay Men from the 1980s no longer exist. They went out of business. We cannot allow the National Black Gay & Lesbian Leadership Forum to do the same in the 1990s. Scripture says, "where there is no vision, the people perish." So the vision I call for is a revolution. Not a revolution of guns and knives, but a revolution in our thinking. A revolution that teaches us to stop waiting for the next great black hope and start creating greatness and hope among our black lesbian and gay people. Take a deep breath. Exhale your fears, and remember the words: If it is to be; it's up to me. If it is to be; it's up to me.