Craig Washington discusses his archive at the Auburn Avenue Research Library, which preserves Black queer history, honors untold stories, community, and courage.

It was 30 years ago, on November 7, that basketball legend Earvin “Magic” Johnson Jr. announced he’d acquired HIV. No other HIV disclosure has had such a reverberating impact before or since. From the Great Western Forum in Los Angeles, where he achieved era-defining success with the LA Lakers, the cherub-faced icon held a press conference where he revealed he was living with HIV and would immediately retire from basketball. The magnitude of this event was due not only to his popularity as a sports hero; he was a 32-year-old heterosexual Black man who appeared to be perfectly healthy and still in his athletic prime.

Unlike other celebrities with HIV whose disclosure and/or death made mainstream (Rock Hudson, Liberace) and LGBTQ (Sylvester) headlines, Magic was not gay, nor did he use intravenous drugs. He was heterosexual, which meant he was "just like anybody else" and not like those dispensable others. Those others made up a besieged minority who did not need to be convinced that AIDS was real. Among them were Black gay men.

Lil Nas X is a self-affirming Black gay millennial, a megastar still rising, and an impresario of social media. His releases shatter sales and streaming records. His videos and live performances display unambiguously queer Black sexiness before mainstream audiences.

We met at a friend's Super Bowl party over 10 years ago. I’m no real fan of the sport although I will check out the phyne players on either team. When it comes to the Super Bowl, I am only really down for a fabulous halftime show. In 2007, Prince did the honors and his royal badness did not let us down. I noticed this brother a few minutes before my friend introduced us. Within minutes, we found ourselves a little corner off the kitchen where we could focus without interruption. He was playful and blunt about his desires, and that turned me on. “I don’t like no bread,” he told me. “Just give me the meat.”

I expected it to be really painful the first time I got fucked.

I was 20 years old. I had placed nothing bigger than my finger inside. Before this initiation, I enjoyed getting and giving head and frottage, but no penetration whatsoever. It was a college friend who did the honors. I was not only infatuated with him. I trusted him. I was so relaxed throughout it all that it stumped him. “You sure you haven't done this before?” I told him I really liked it and that I looked forward to getting better at it. Lighting a second post-sex Newport, he advised, “Well if you do that with someone, make sure you get yours back.”