Learning from Laverne: What to do with Black queer generational divides?

It has been several months since trailblazer Laverne Cox admitted she was once enthralled by a “blue-eyed MAGA Republican voter” for three years. In her viral video, Laverne disclosed that she once dated a man who was 22 years younger but did not “adopt any of his politics.” Many, especially members of the Black queer community, still expressed betrayal, frustration, and disdain. In a world where transphobia and racism are rapidly rising, how could such a connection be possible? Over the months that followed, in the laundry list of think pieces, commentary, and more on the topic, I have found one issue to be largely under-discussed. Age and the need for intergenerational conversations in the Black queer community.  

Accountability & Calling in?

After the righteous uproar, Laverne went to social media to explain and contextualize her romantic rendezvous in multiple ways. From IG to TikTok, the actress repeatedly stated that this was years ago (2020) and happened in a different phase of her life, when and where her desirability varied.

One of the most culturally salient and impactful moments came from the Black queer YouTube Channel, Olay and Friends. The video titled “Laverne Cox dated a MAGA Cop…Let’s Talk About It.” featured Laverne and a panel of exclusively Black people, including other Black trans women, discussing the relationship. While it was intended to “call in” and framed as a conversation about accountability, the session quickly turned into a reading and roasting session about Laverne and her desires. While I may not personally agree with Laverne’s romantic choices, I applaud her ability to engage in such a strenuous and vulnerable conversation. I do not think most people have the ability, capacity, and/or desire to resurrect their toxic and/or remorseful romantic choices. Especially in a massive public forum. 

The invisible elephant in the room: Age 

Something about the conversation rubbed me the wrong way. So I listened to others. After watching the video again and reflecting, I listened to TS Madison’s response. TS Madison, 47, who is a Black trans woman,  said she was offended not because of the topic, but the tone and lack of respect, especially considering Laverne’s age. Age? 

Then I googled and was floored. Laverne Cox is 53 years old, placing her firmly in Gen X. And it hit me. The conversation didn’t bother me because it critiqued Laverne; in fact, public figures should embrace accountability. What troubled me was the lack of nuance, respect, and understanding across generations of Black queer people. In my opinion, one can listen to understand without justifying and/or promoting a position.

“What troubled me was the lack of nuance, respect, and understanding across generations of Black queer people. In my opinion, one can listen to understand without justifying and/or promoting a position.”

While trans rights are under attack, Laverne has lived through decades of profound shifts in the rights and visibility of Black trans people. Like Laverne, these experiences fundamentally shape all people, influencing what we desire, value, and understand as “safe.” Laverne Cox’s definition and understanding of safety and love could vary from that of a 20-year-old Black transwoman. The conditions and expectations of love are literally different. 

Gender dysphoria was not renamed until 2013, and Laverne was featured on the cover of Time in 2014. This iconic cover cemented her legacy and enshrined her as a pillar of queer identity. And in that 11 years alone, the rhetoric related to and understandings of Black queer love are not the same.

Lessons learned: Connecting across generations

More than a decade later, the YouTube sessions showed me that the generational divide around Black queer identity has seemed to deepen. I find this rather alarming. We are just now stepping into an era where Black queer people can publicly thrive, with the freedom to ask, learn, and build across generations. Secrecy and silence no longer have to be the norm.

It is well known that, amongst other things, HIV devastated our communities and ruptured the very intergenerational bonds that could have carried forward wisdom. Therefore, intentionally reflecting on and rebuilding intergenerational Black queer connections is urgent, if not life-saving. Intergenerational conversations are vital because they preserve the erased and misrepresented history of Black queer people. Our love. Our resistance. There is no future without understanding the past. 

“We need intergenerational dialogue that holds our leaders accountable while also honoring the complexity of their experiences.  We can respect and contextualize without justifying.”

The conversation did not have to justify the relationship, but the discourse certainly could have been leveraged as a learning moment. For example, instead of shaming Laverne, what if Laverne were granted the opportunity to talk/teach young people about the perils of desirability and fetishization? About the importance of political and personal alignment? 

Let’s say someone vehemently disagreed with Laverne’s romantic choices. Chances are, they would be more likely to judge Laverne than learn from it. They would likely laugh at, instead of reflect on, how/why they may harbor toxic romantic desires.  It may not necessarily be a Blue-eyed MAGA cop, but it could still be incredibly hurtful and harmful for oneself personally and for the larger community. 

I am not here to intrude on romantic desires and/or justify aspects of White Supremacy, but I do believe that the immediate inclination to critique and criticize Black queer leaders without generational context and clarity is harmful. What we need now is not knee-jerk condemnation, which happens everywhere else outside of Black queer spaces.

We need intergenerational dialogue that holds our leaders accountable while also honoring the complexity of their experiences.  We can respect and contextualize without justifying. Black queer survival has always required nuance, care, and a willingness to wrestle with contradictions. Black queer survival has always required context. And our liberation demands that accountability is rooted in context, too.