Well-rounded with nuanced, compelling perspectives, Mighty Real: Black Voices In Conversation on Sunday, November 7 was exceptional, so much so that I found myself caught up in the show, forgetting I was working. As event moderator and producer, endless hours were spent curating a virtual space that felt comfortable and welcoming… a plan well executed.
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“Welcome to Gay Church,” emcee Sampson McCormick said with a laugh, kicking off the show. “Gay Church as in a sense of healing, and getting to the point where we are able to pull the next generation along. What it’s about is community.”
Of Mighty Real’s headline segment with New York Times best selling author Robert Jones, Jr., McCormick said, “I found out about Robert when I was living in Oakland. Nobody was more pro-Black than Son Of Baldwin,” referring to Jones, Jr.’s social-justice, social-media community. “He says things we need to hear. Robert has always been intentional about creating conversations, even the uncomfortable ones, so that we can come out as better as human beings on the other side.”
I’ve moderated conversations and interviewed all types of folks, but being in conversation with the prolific Robert Jones, Jr., and following along in my own copy of The Prophets as he read aloud from his own was once-in-a-lifetime Sunday sermon.
Porsha Olayiwola spit her poetic gospel with fluidity and such fullness that I felt transported into a space with her, no screen between us. “I’m definitely in gay church and being fed,” she confirmed before opening into her set, with themes of history, water, Blackness, queer intimacy and sex, hunger, desire, and fatness.
During a follow-up Q&A, Olayiwola shared, “I feel like a gay lesbian. ‘Dyke’ feels most true. It’s chosen for its sonics, the sound and history of it. It makes such a good sound, ‘dyke.’ Simultaneously I do feel queer. A queer dyke… being fluid, juxtaposing something solid.”
Charming and delightful, Morgan Rogers dropped knowledge for aspiring writers, and encouraged one of the event’s most quotable moments. “The first person you write for is yourself,” Rogers said. “And if you don’t like it, the reader can tell. Remind yourself that the first draft is for [you]. With every page [I write], I have to remind myself that I’m the target audience.”
Of her gender identity, Rogers said, “I don't wanna fit myself into a box and I reached a point in my identity where I’m vibing with who I’m vibing, not feeling restricted.” Inspired, someone commented into the chat, “Gender of the day is vibes.”
“I’m not a man, not a woman, I’m a vibe,” McCormick added.
Softly, carefully, during his poetry reading, Randy James set the chat aflame; and caught some hearts, too.
“I step onto the floor with no ballroom pedigree, leave with little fanfare. ‘Minorities do not fit into the gentrification plans of the city.’ Our bracelets & boas bespeak Black magic, our magic shablams on Father Time. The girls lip sync to a T y todo - will cut you if you act funny.”
– Club Land, Randy James
Sharing expressions of radical forgiveness and radical healing while spread across the bed of a Palm Springs hotel room, “Auntie” Brontez Purnell, read from Johnny Would You Love Me If My Dick Were Bigger and Hoodoo.
Of his graphic novel 100 Boyfriends, Purnell said, “It’s a literary metaphor. Every time you’re dating someone, you’re dating their ghosts. We’re all left with the imprint of somebody… with psychic imprints. The heaviness of trauma ricocheting off of one another.”
Let the church say, Amen.