That volume, which I spotted on the shelves of the Glad Day Bookstore in Boston, was Joseph Beam’s In the Life: A Black Gay Anthology, and the front cover image, featuring two fly brothers drawn by Deryl Mackie, and its back cover photo of a very beautiful, dark brown man, Joseph Beam himself, along with a description of the book’s contents and Beam’s rationale for producing the book, were akin to me finding the most precious and life-giving essence I had long dreamt of. In fact, that back cover précis pointed out that Beam “began collecting this material after years of frustration with gay literature that had no message for--and little mention of--Black gay men.”  

During the late 1980s, Beam wrote as if time were leaking, when to be Black and gay was to live inside a series of narrowing spaces:  within a country that congratulated itself on progress while perfecting new forms of racial abandonment; within Black communal spaces that guarded masculinity like a border; within gay worlds that mistook whiteness for universality.

When writer Joseph Beam published In the Life: A Black Gay Anthology with Alyson Publications in 1986, he helped usher in a new era of Black lesbian and gay publishing. This moment marked the rise of journals, magazines, newsletters, pamphlets, and zines created in the United States and the Caribbean. After Joe passed away just two years later, that work didn’t slow down. In fact, it expanded.

“As one of the most powerful human beings this country has seen in the past 30 years, and someone whose show I grew up watching, it would be nice if you realized your influence and took more personal responsibility for the quality of your shows that address serious topics like HIV in the Black community.” - Dr. David Malebranche

At the 2025 Paradise Garage Reunion at Xanadu in Brooklyn, writer Craig Washington joins fellow “Garageheads” to celebrate the legendary club’s enduring legacy. Through an intimate interview with original resident DJ and reunion co-organizer David Depino, the piece explores how the gathering has evolved into both a multigenerational dance floor and a living memorial to those lost to HIV.

On this episode of The Reckoning, host Dr. Deion Hawkins sits down with guest Dr. Lance T. McCready for an honest conversation about what it truly means to break barriers as Black men in higher education.

Tubi’s “Demascus” upends TV norms, blending sci-fi, comedy, and therapy to deeply explore Black masculinity and vulnerability. Writer, Josha Alston, argues that the show is a fresh, essential vision for Black storytelling, revealing how real revolution comes when platforms dare to center authentic voices and complex emotional journeys.

William Johnson, the Director of PEN America’s Florida office, writes this tribute to poet Jubi Arriola-Headley.

The Red Dress Run in New Orleans is famous for its spectacle, but its true impact and meaning for the Black queer community remain complex and deeply debated. Dr. Deion Hawkins explores how visibility, philanthropy, and Black queer joy intersect, and sometimes collide, at one of the city’s most colorful events.

Laverne Cox’s viral confession sparks a vital call for nuanced, intergenerational dialogue on accountability and history in Black queer communities, beyond quick criticism or shame.

Magic Johnson celebrates 66 years of life as a person with HIV, a testament to medical progress, while highlighting persistent disparities facing Black gay men who still bear the epidemic's heaviest burden despite available treatments.

Recorded in January 2021, Archbishop Carl Bean, spiritual leader, HIV activism pioneer, and the voice behind 1977’s “I Was Born This Way,” recounts his journey from gospel stages and Motown to founding Unity Fellowship and ministering through the HIV crisis of the 1980s and 1990s. It’s a candid, joy-filled reflection on faith, music, and queer Black liberation that turns history into a call to love openly and live unapologetically.

When Keith Lee’s fitness video drew sexualized comments from some men, his response highlighted a broader tension over how Black men’s bodies are policed online. Dr. Deion Hawkins argues that attraction isn’t the issue; the issue is harassment, and true queer-straight solidarity requires respecting boundaries and allowing all Black men to be carefree.

Mr. Loverman is a quietly stunning drama about a 74 year old Antiguan-born British patriarch who has hidden a decades-long same-sex affair with his best friend and soulmate. The story of love, regret, and longing, inside the glass closet, is told through theatrical storytelling and remarkable performances.

After surviving a near-fatal cardiac arrest during a routine surgery, Los Angeles-based physician and wellness advocate Dr. Leo Moore emerged with a renewed mission to empower Black men to proactively manage their health. His new book serves as a practical guide to screenings, self-care, and breaking long-standing barriers between men and the healthcare system.

Malcolm-Jamal Warner’s portrayal of Theo Huxtable on The Cosby Show redefined Black boyhood on television. Through Warner’s work, generations of Black boys, from all backgrounds, found permission to be complex and unapologetically themselves.

After being laid off, Everett Long navigates the uncertainty by reflecting on his values and focusing on personal growth. His journey highlights the importance of redefining success beyond traditional career paths.

Noah’s Arc: The Movie revisits the groundbreaking Black gay series two decades later to deliver a searing meditation on aging and loss centering the seldom-told experiences of middle-aged Black gay men.

Freak Twitter, a hidden in plain sight, digital space where Black queer men explore their sexuality and build supportive connections is more than just an outlet for adult content. Dr. Deion Hawkins discusses how this overlooked corner of the internet offers a unique avenue for self-discovery and connection.

Dennis Rodman was a rebounding king and a style icon. He bent gender norms in the macho NBA of the 90s, hanging with Madonna & wearing dresses. But did his flamboyance change the game for LGBTQIA+ athletes, or was it just another Rodman spectacle?