June holds a sacred weight for Black Queer individuals. It’s a month where joy becomes a form of resistance, remembrance becomes ritual, and survival itself is a revolutionary act. It is a time for celebration, reflection and righteous rage. It is a time to honor the defiant, dazzling resilience of Black people who, even after being “freed,” have never truly known freedom without a fight. And it is a time to uplift the powerful and too-often overlooked role of Black Queer people in shaping every major social justice movement in this country. Because too often, the progress is celebrated, but the names are left behind.
We are the children of resistance. From the blood-soaked soil of slavery to the front lines of civil rights, from the ballroom to the voting booth, from the streets of Stonewall to the chants in Ferguson, Black Queer folks have always been there, loud and unapologetic. While this nation tried to bury us under chains, under silence, under shame, we rose. We sang. We marched. We danced. We dreamed. We built the culture, even as we were written out of it.
June, internationally recognized as Pride Month, was born from the fire of the Stonewall riots in 1969. But what the sanitized versions of history fail to tell you is that it was Black and Brown Queer and Trans folks, like Marsha P. Johnson, who were the first to rise up. Pride is not just a celebration; it is a rebellion rooted in pain, in power, and in our right to exist fully and freely. And for Black Queer individuals, it is a time to hold every part of ourselves with pride and to demand that the world do the same.
We honor the radical legacy of our trailblazers: James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, Bayard Rustin, Angela Davis, Gladys Bentley, Lorraine Hansberry, Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, Willi Ninja, local leader Sandy Williams, and so many more who carved out space for us with blood, brilliance, and boldness. These ancestors didn’t just make noise; they made change. They laid the path we now walk, march, and fight along.
And still, our fight is far from over.
We are still battling narratives that label us as sick, as predators, as threats to tradition and family values. These lies, rooted in fear, ignorance, and centuries of white supremacist oppression, are tearing at the fabric of our communities. The truth is: we are not here to harm your legacies. We are your legacy. We are your children, your siblings, your cousins, your choir directors, your kin. All we ask is the same grace you give that creepy uncle you don’t want around your kids … because even he gets a plate at the cookout.
We deserve more than tolerance. We deserve dignity. We deserve love.
We are not a monolith. Our community holds multitudes. And when harmful beliefs go unchecked, they rob our youth, our future, of joy, of discovery, of the freedom to move beyond the confines the world and especially our own people have placed on them. Do not let your shame or fear dictate the lives of others, especially your children. We were never meant to be boxed in.
To be Black and Queer is still to live in the crosshairs; shunned by parts of the Black community for our queerness and erased by the Queer community for our Blackness. Our culture is copied, our slang adopted, our style imitated…but our names? Often left unspoken. We are a part of the blueprint, the heartbeat of fashion, language, resilience, and innovation. And yet, we are treated like an afterthought.
But still … we rise.
June is not just a month. It is a mirror reflecting all that we are and all that we continue to fight for. It is a battle cry, a hymn, and a homecoming. Black Queer people are not a footnote we are a headline. We are the movement. We are the proof that liberation is possible when we refuse to let go of each other and of who we are.
This is our legacy. This is our power. This is our Pride.
And so, as we celebrate our freedom from the chains of our enslavers, let us also free our minds from the hate, the fear, and the biases toward the Queer community that too many of us still carry. These are not our truths. They are the burdens passed down by white oppressors. And it’s time that we lay them down.
Happy Juneteenth and Happy Pride Month, Black Spokane.
Read more about all the Black and Queer leaders who have helped shape America at nbcnews.com/nbc-out/nbc-out-proud/black-history-month-17-lgbtq-black-pioneers-who-made-history-n1130856
These people include, but are not limited, to:
Angela Davis
Audre Lorde
Gladys Bentley
Lorraine Hansberry
Marsha P. Johnson
Miss Major Griffin-Gracy (known as Miss Major or Mama)
Bayard Rustin
James Baldwin
Willi Ninja – The Grandfather of Vogue and mother of the House of Ninja, (1961-2006)