L'lerrét Jazelle Ailith is a Black trans creative and communications strategist born and raised in Baltimore, MD. She now currently serves as the Communications Manager for BYP100 where she is integral is building out a comprehensive communications infrastructure to support Black, queer feminist youth organizing. L'errét lives and believes in a feminism that is sex positive, glamorous, and affirming but also all things raggedy and contradictory - acknowledging humanness and the complexity of life. She has a passion for acting, uses music as a love language, adores cosmetic surgery (if only she could afford it), and lives for a bomb lace unit.

by Anna Gibson

I’ve always considered myself “woke.” I’m an avid reader of history and because of this, I became aware of the forces that oppress black and brown people at a very young age. My parents introduced me to books like Introduction to African Civilization by John J. Jackson and From Babylon to Timbuktu by Rudolph R. Windsor when I was just ten years old. I thrived on the information I found in these books. However, at some point, I lost my way, and I can’t say that life in my teens and early 20’s was a reflection of the ideas I learned back then.


I decided to dive back into what it truly means to be conscious in the past six months. I’ve devoured books like When the World Was Black by Dr. Supreme Understanding and Maat: Guided Principles to Moral Living by KMT University Press. It’s like I’m a kid again. I can’t stop reading about my history and speaking to people of like minds who are interested in eradicating racism and all its subsequent effects on our people and our communities.

However, I was hurt by what I found in many of the major texts of the conscious community. Much of the community didn’t seem to accept me as a lesbian woman and would regulate my black womanhood to a secondary role within the movement. Many men in the “conscious” BLM community are masterful at hiding deep-seated homophobia and misogyny behind their “concern for the state of the black family,” avoidance of the “effeminization of the black man,” and protecting their “Queens” at all costs.

On the contrary, what I’ve found is that men in the BLM movement only define me as a queen when I fit into their narrow idea of femininity. They only find me respectable if I maintain a standard they can control. I’ve found myself in a number of perplexing situations. One brother practiced polygamy, but the moment one of his wives decided to get another lover she was a whore, simply for doing the same thing he did. I’ve been told I needed “correction,” as though I were a child who is disgraceful and completely out of line because I’m attracted to women. I’ve been dismissed, disregarded, and held in contempt. I’ve been judged and told I need to repent by the same individuals who claim that black and brown people need to throw off the religion of their slave masters and embrace who they truly are.

As this clip from Umar Johnson demonstrates, many of the foremost leaders of the black community would attempt to prove that we (women and the LGBTQIA community) hate the opposite sex for being who we are. Johnson often speaks about “treating” people in the LGBTQIA community as if we have a disease. He also makes hateful comments toward single black mothers, saying that they “castrate black boys and wonder why they grow into gay men.”

However, despite his rampant homophobia and misogyny he claims to love all African American people. This fear lies in the inability to understand the contributions that LGBTQIA people and black women have made to the civil rights and black power movements.

An interesting dynamic reveals the origins of misogyny and homophobia in the community. It illuminates a deep-seated fear of black men in the “conscious” community. I think Dr. Umar’s comments against single mothers and lesbians reflect a question that seems to be implied in black male anger against black women: What about me?

You see this question in many forms in the black conscious community, whether you hear about black men disparaging trans women, black men condemning lesbians, or black men hating gay men. A man is hated if he “behaves like a woman,” on one hand, but if a woman isn’t “his” it also becomes a serious problem. This is an issue of ownership and contempt, both of which serve as the foundation for misogyny, and the rejection of the LGBTQIA conscious community. This hatred is what’s REALLY meant in some of this discourse when we hear “Black women NEED black men,” and why men feel rejected enough to feel castrated when they aren’t involved.

If you need an example of this misogyny all you need to do check out articles on For Harriet’s comment threads, specifically the ones about LGBTQIA issues and love. You’ll see that while many men are completely silent about articles on the deaths of black women, they will come up at arms when conversations around LGBTQIA love and identity are centered and the discussion isn’t about them.

Dr. Umar Johnson’s misogyny and homophobia isn’t an isolated case. The issue is much bigger than him. The truth is, you can’t be concerned with the freedom of our people from oppression while excluding a large portion of our people. Black Lives Matter explicitly means that ALL black lives matter. If you throw out any portion of our people based on fear and ignorance, YOU don’t belong in the movement. For years LGBTQIA people have fought for have our freedom from the labyrinth of structural racism, and we will continue to do so because people of the Black diaspora need us.

Because of the ignorance outlined above, it’s understandable that many LGBTQIA people and women (God forbid if you’re both) may enter the Black Lives Matter movement and feel attacked on all sides. This is incredibly damaging, because quite frankly, we love our people and want to make sure they know who they are and how much of a powerful impact they can have on the world. I know how easy it is to become discouraged. You shouldn’t internalize misogyny or homophobia. Instead we should take time out to understand the common arguments against women and LGBTQIA community as well as further outline the origins of homophobia and misogyny within the movement.

People in BLM claim that the LGBTQIA conscious community are a “danger to BLM” and promote “black genocide.” On the contrary, I would posit that our unity can only be a danger the very establishment that oppresses us. The civil rights and black power movements didn’t collapse just because they gave LGBTQIA people a platform. LGBTQIA inclusion actually strengthened us. This can be proven by taking a look at some of the elders that helped place black liberation at the forefront of America’s consciousness.

Bayard Rustin was a prominent organizer that helped organize many of the events that made Dr. King’s platform possible. He was the mind behind the March on Washington and many of the sit-ins that occurred in the 1960’s civil rights movement. He wasn’t in the closet either. In an era that openly criminalized the LGBTQIA community and shunned women, he openly advocated for the rights of both. That level of fearlessness and tenacity in the face of adversity is exactly what we need in the BLM movement.

Alice Walker is another prominent writer. Her seminal work the Color Purple centered on such issues as bisexuality, domestic violence and revolution. Walker was also known for participating in the March on Washington and makes it a point to put out the inequities experienced by black community in her poetry and public speeches. Should her work be thrown away because of who she loves?

Some would claim that others would have come along and done the same thing if these powerful men and women didn’t, but this is a logical fallacy. We can’t deal with what could have been, since it didn’t happen. It can’t be denied that the elders I just mentioned—and many others—made extensive contributions to the movement, and we wouldn’t be where we are without their influence. If we’d rejected them on the basis of sexual orientation, identity, or gender, we would be missing out on a huge aspect of the liberation of our people.


Our ancestor Huey Newton, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, offers us insight into the primary insecurities that drive most “conscious men”. In his speech, “A Letter to the Revolutionary Brothers and Sisters About The Women’s Liberation and Gay Liberation Movements,” he states:

We should try to unite with them in a revolutionary fashion, whatever your insecurities are. I say ‘whatever your insecurities are’ because as we very well know, sometimes our first instinct is to want to hit a homosexual in the mouth, and want a woman to be quiet. We want to hit a homosexual in the mouth because we are afraid that we might be homosexual; and we want to hit the woman or shut her up because we are afraid that she might castrate us, or take the nuts that we might not have to start with. 

We must gain security in ourselves and therefore have respect and feelings for all oppressed people. We must not use the racist attitude that the White racists use against our people because they are Black and poor.

Newton was one of the few people in the Black Power Movement that openly reflected on its homophobia and misogyny. He even went as far as recognizing his own bias in the same speech and recognizing that rejecting us will do more harm than good.

In short, I would urge many members of the BLM movement to take an honest appraisal as to why they feel so threatened by the LGBTQIA and feminist communities, as Newton did. You aren’t protecting the conscious community. Instead, you’re wasting valuable time and energy rejecting a part of our people who contribute gems to black liberation and perpetuating the same cycles of oppression that holds us back as a people.

To my LGBTQIA brothers and sisters, let the track records of our elders speak for themselves and empower you to further action. You have a place in the BLM movement, even if you’re ridiculed for being who you are and loving who you love. Continue to lead our people to liberation and serve as an example to our brothers and sisters in the movement. Let it be known that unity is the key to success, and division will only lead to failure in the struggle against white supremacy.

Photo: Shutterstock

Anna Gibson is a student at Wayne State University who’s currently immersed in African Studies. You can catch up with her on Twitter @TheRealSankofa or on Facebook where she’s hiding in plain sight.

by Ari C. Johnson

Partnering with photographer Michael Williamson, journalist Chico Harlan authored a four part series for The Washington Post named 'A Region Left Behind: Lost Opportunity in the Deep South.' Utilizing photographs of bleak subjects in deep tones, dismal economic statistics, and personal stories from Southerners of different ages, Harlan's inquiry into the rural and urban South was subtle yet powerful. Leading the nation in counties with the worst male life expectancy, median income, and upward mobility, the Deep South is also home to a region known as the Black Belt, an area stretching from Maryland to Louisiana known for its high percentage of African Americans. The Black Belt contains the poorest counties in the nation.

Though relatively unknown at first, the series gained steam and began to circulate among blacktivist Facebook and Twitter circles, fueling my hope that finally the rural Black experience would at last become a serious subject of conversation within the movement. It was a faint hope. The Black Lives Matter movement is a city phenomenon with a primarily urban lens: Chicago, New York, and Oakland are the major capitols, and there are several hubs such as D.C., St. Louis, and Baltimore among others. Southern cities such as Atlanta, Charlotte, and New Orleans shows signs of life but are only fledglings so far.



Following up on Harlan's research piece, I looked into the 2010 census findings on the American Black population and found these statistics:

by Kel Daroe

The New Year is always a time of hope. I sit and create plans to make myself, my community, and the world just a little bit better than it was before. I actively anticipate the ways in which my Black womanhood will unfold, revealing its intricate beauty to my family, lovers, friends, and most importantly, myself. It’s the time for wishes, aspirations, and magic.

by Aya de Leon

In an era where we in the US fight for the idea that Black Lives Matter, to be black and female, African and a sex worker, is to inhabit a location of deepest neglect and disregard.

by Danielle Stevens

After Tuesday night’s 2016 Democratic Presidential Primary Debate, many Bernie Sanders supporters have been valorizing the candidate for saying ‎Sandra Bland’s name, expressing that Black Lives Matter, and discussing the importance of criminal justice reform. Although many believe this to be a groundbreaking proclamation, the true groundbreaking work comes from the Black women organizers who have been pushing Sanders consistently to act on the importance of dismantling structural violence and organizing and agitating for our freedom and livelihoods every single day; the same Black women who would never receive anywhere near this magnitude of recognition for our analyses and our labor.

By Veronica Agard

In a dynamic time of #BlackLivesMatter, the conversations around the violence inflicted upon Black bodies have been become more and more prevalent. However, despite the fact that the intention of the founders of #BlackLivesMatter was to always be inclusive of all Black lives, that has not completely translated to the movement. We’ve already seen examples of openly hostile and homophobic behavior of Black cisgendered men in the form of “Straight Black Pride.” This type of violence within the movement is only one example of what is the daily experience for trans and gender nonconforming people.

by Jai Danielle

Most of us have been here before: you’re on a date with a new guy. He appears smart, handsome, financially and emotionally stable. Down-to-earth. Confident. Stylish. Sexy. You get a good vibe.

by Sylvia Arthur

It seems Europe has taken its migrant policy from the American blues singer, Big Bill Broonzy, whose 1940s anthem “Black, Brown, White” eloquently captured the indignity of the Jim Crow era:

They says if you was white, should be all right
If you was brown, stick around
But as you's black, m-mm brother, git back git back git back

While European nations have grudgingly agreed to host 120,000 of the 500,000 refugees who’ve made the perilous journey to their shores this year, their offer of sanctuary is primarily to those fleeing the bloodshed in Syria. The same grace hasn’t been extended to those coming from outside Syria's war-torn borders, many of whom happen to be of a darker hue.

By Anna Gibson

The number of Black women who die in police custody continues to climb. A video was recently released of 37-year-old Natasha McKenna, who died in police custody in early February of 2015. McKenna had suffered from schizophrenia since she was a teenager and was having an episode in prison. The 45-minute video shows her staggering out of her cell, completely naked and clearly confused as a group of fully armed men, in hazmat suits and shields, pull her to the ground. They then proceeded to administer 5000 volts to her 5’3, 160 lb. frame. She was later pulled off of life support, and the cause of her death was listed as “agitated excitation.”

By Torie Weiston-Serdan

While the Ferguson's, Baltimore's, Cleveland's, New York's, Charleston's and Houston’s continue to capture our attention, let's not forget that the issues plaguing these communities have an impact on the youth living there even after all of the media attention goes away. Educational researchers have long been sharing important information about the demographic makeup of Ferguson schools and schools like them, as well as the trauma associated with such dramatic events for the youth who have had to live at the center of abundant state violence, on several fronts. Furthermore, it is strikingly clear that standard indicators of racial segregation, poverty and negative interactions with the law have been plaguing these communities long before America’s gaze, and the young people growing up in these communities have been exposed to these issues for their entire lives.

by Atima Omara

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be driving long distances by yourself,” said my husband.

In our activism and revolutionary self-reflection, we rarely talk about the growing pains of wanting liberation, how to get that liberation, and what we need to survive on the way to seeking that liberation. Historically, we’ve seen the Black Power Movement infiltrated, divided, and hindered by CointelPro, white supremacist tools (money and power), and unchecked egos. But when can we, individually and collectively, step back and address our personal motivations within Black liberation and recognize how we may be attributing to our movement not moving forward?

It's imperative to recognize that we can be contributors and perpetuators of tools and facets of white supremacy. And that’s some hard shit to swallow. Point. Blank. Period. As Black folks, it’s not our fault that we are oppressed, violated, murdered, and erased. We only have so much control over our lives and our trajectory but we have to recognize that the allure of money, power, and access is a hell of a white supremacist drug.
We all want money to be comfortable, to look good, to be happy, and to create a better living situation for families that we’ve never been able to experience. We all want power because some of us have never had the agency to be seen as powerful or worthy. Unfortunately, some of us want power to challenge systems that oppress us but also want to recreate those systems in other ways through privileges we have yet to check. We all want access because we’ve been systematically, interpersonally, and internally denied access to health care, education, food, clean and safe environments, body autonomy and choice, and/or emotional well-being.

But how do we decolonize our need to have these things, especially when they’re offered to us as an illusion by white supremacist agents? There are activists with large followings and name brands (generally folks with a lot of privilege – gender, sexuality, presentation, education, etc.) that get opportunities to get jobs, speaking engagements, media coverage, and invitations to events. And a lot of those same forerunners within the Black Lives Matter Movement* (not the organization) are folks who happen to be opportunists and focused on infiltrating a system while trying to benefit from it financially, representationally, and/ or egotistically.

At what point can these representational leaders be checked and accountable for their behavior? When can we have honest conversations with these same folks that are given platforms to discuss Black Liberation but refuse to listen to the same folks they represent? When can we talk about who is chosen to keep having these conversations for us? When will we know the true motives of the folks who get the most representation and platform? How do we also check the folks that are within our personal networks when there’s no audience to watch, no Twitter screenshots, and just internalized pain within our smaller communities?

Is it about access to liberation and if we know we can change the world? Do we fall victim to the idea that freedom is impossible to access within our lifetime? Do we try to navigate the system without challenging it more because we don't think we can ever do enough? Are some of us thinking we can exploit a system while also benefiting from it financially because we can't destroy it now anyways? Are we more caught up in opportunity and money than we are with true liberation because it’s easier? And can we even admit it when we are?

These same components of white supremacist capitalism – money, power, respect, access, opportunity – that we seek to gain are the same systems that violate us. Phantoms of white supremacy can and do exist within our activist work and our internal struggle. It revolves around our personal accountability and our private and interpersonal behaviors affecting our liberation and our community building. And it's hard to separate what we need, what we want, and what's necessary to get everyone liberated while still giving ourselves/folks the capacity to be complicated.

Ask yourself:

1. Do you truly believe liberation is possible? 
2. What power structure do you want to see if you choose to dismantle our current systems? 
3. What role do you want to play in dismantling this system and what role do you want to play within the new system? What form of power is required within these chosen roles?
4. What are you willing give up to dismantle oppressive power structures?
5. Do you truly understand that decolonization starts internally? Are you willing to be vulnerable and accountable enough to recognize your own interpersonal/internalized oppressive behavior? Are you willing to resolve and move forward from those behaviors and thoughts because we need each other?

Addressing how our activism, ego/human nature, and white supremacist systems all coincide when we discuss how to go about true liberation. And really, what is true liberation? Could you imagine a world rid of white supremacist patriarchal and capitalistic power, which in turn meant that it would eliminate gender roles/expectations, misogyny, transphobia, queerphobia, ableism, fatphobia, colorism, anti-Blackness, and classism? Is it possible to make liberation a reality without destroying everything we know? Do we honestly believe that violence, destruction, and reconstruction are not a part of the implementation of liberation? We cannot lend ourselves to our oppressor's moral conscious if they do not have one. Therefore we HAVE to understand that we will never be liberated without physical, emotional, structural, theoretical, and internal destruction of the society and anti-Black systems we currently know. We have to believe and trust that liberation is always possible regardless of how figurative it sounds. We will win. But in the words of Lauryn Hill, “How you gon’ win if you ain’t right within?”
We have to start the conversation(s) about where the Black Lives Matter Movement* (not the organization) is going and how we can address these realities that have been present historically within Black liberation tactics and efforts. It is imperative that we self-reflect to get free. It is imperative that we can effectively address these issues within our social circles, families, activist networks, and with our community to get liberated. In the words of the powerful Assata Shakur: We have nothing to lose but our chains.

*Black Lives Matter Movement refers to the present overall Black liberation effort. This is not to be conflated with the specific Black Lives Matter organization or its chapters but rather to recognize that our holistic efforts to get free have been justifiably and erroneously inserted under an umbrella term of ‘Black Lives Matter’ (to reflect the revolutionary hashtag #blacklivesmatter created by the founders of the Black Lives Matter organization). It has made it confusing to decipher between who’s associated with specific Black activist organizations (i.e. BYP, MAU, Dream Defenders, Million Hoodies, etc.) versus who’s associated with general Black liberation, but my references are specific to the movement overall and not towards any specific chapter or organization.

Photo: cdrin/Shutterstock

By Veronica Agard

The initial dust may have settled on the unscripted confrontation between Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus at the Video Music Awards, but the ongoing conversations on the subject are far from over. Tone policing and the debates on calling out versus calling in are critical and intense conversations to have, and the best examples of this can be found through discussions on #BlackLivesMatter. As the hashtag continues to move from the keyboard to the streets, the frequency of confrontations and debates has increased.

By Chanda Chandalala

They say the happenings are over there; they could not possibly find their way here. Those who say these things have chosen to be blind. Chosen to shut their ears, chosen to look the other way. It’s not that bad here they say. But the plight of Black Lives has always been an issue and my visit to the museum reminded me and the Canadian public of that fact.

by Candace Simpson

A few weeks ago, I sat on the train after a long day of work. I was tired, frustrated, upset, drained. I was kicking myself for committing to more activities than I should. I was running in and out of a revolving door of guilt and shame. I was disgusted with myself. I was mentally adding up my hours for the week and drafting a thought-spreadsheet of expenses. I was overwhelmed. Magically, I started humming a song out of nowhere.

by Leah C.K. Lewis

A recent Twitter beef occurred when Deray McKesson received a response from presidential candidate Bernie Sanders to discuss racial policy. Activist dream hampton tweeted that this moment should have happened between Sanders and founders of Black Lives Matter. Her response is being cast as a growing divide between the official BLM organizers and other protesters and activists such as McKesson who mobilize locally.

A little over a week ago, we published the article "What it Means to be Mixed Race During the Fight for Black Lives" by Shannon Luders-Manuel, which sparked a lot of discussion and was shared nearly 2,000 times.

by Uche Wogwugwu on Medium

Last month, I was suddenly and suspiciously let go from my job at a local media production company in Houston. Prior to being let go, I’d been in New York City for a couple of days hoping to retrieve the last of my things left there over a year ago.

by Altheria Gaston

In a more equitable world, 19 year-old Christian Taylor of Arlington, Texas would be preparing for his fall semester at Angelo State University. After spending the night in jail for [allegedly] breaking and entering and destruction of property/vandalism at a car dealership on August 7, 2015, his parents might have bailed him out and perhaps scolded him for his seemingly erratic actions. In a few years, after graduating from college, Christian might have looked back on this incident as a stupid episode performed by an immature, reckless teen. But this world is far from equitable, and instead of this hypothetical situation, Christian’s family gathered with hundreds of loved ones a couple days ago for his funeral.