A honest re-introduction to my "Black".

We call it being “woke” – the state of being black and conscious of it in the 21^st century.

I became woke in the strangest way – at times I feel I did not have a choice when this state called upon me.

Growing up in a predominantly homophobic society, my energy had been reserved for fighting for acceptance without terms and conditions.

I could not imagine any other fight that life had in store for me besides the usual judgement that I received for the lack of masculinity in my swag and no I was not part of the “Secretly We Are Gay” (SWAG) boys club.

Apologising for my true self was never an option for me - my truth was too loud, too proud.

Whatever hurtful insults were hurled at me landed on thick skin that was more resilient than any Vaseline lubricated knee. This led to detachment from my skin colour of sorts, and the nuances that it carried. In my mind all the world saw when it looked at me was only a gay man.              

It is only when I went to university that I became exposed to the other identity – my blackness - that I had carried my whole entire life but had not dared to know or explore to better equip myself with the armour I would need to defend it, appreciate it, take pride in it.

I discovered that before I am a gay male, I am black.

What did that mean to my young mind? It meant that all I had come to know about myself was a lie; that I had been secretly conditioned to loathe my identity without even realising it. I had denied myself the magic that comes with the history and resilience of this skin. I communicated and went as far as priding myself on a language that was not my own. I even went as far as seeing the colour black in a rainbow that never sought to include us.

I came into my blackness when I opened my eyes and began associating myself with the “them” that I had unconsciously “othered” under the guise of “not having the same struggles”.

                                                                                                    

When I opened my eyes it became clear that this melanin carries not only my story but that of a collective that has risen above more than any other, that this skin is my magic and the only reason I was armoured to fight off all the hate and homophobia I had endured. See, that is the magic with us, our power to shine in all of our glory whilst the world refuses to dance under the bright light we shine.

Hello my name is Ibanathi Ngcobo and I am a BLACK gay male. How are you?

*Edited by Siphiliselwe Makhanya