Peace family! Welcome back to The Tea! We are so excited to share this issue with you. At M4BL, we believe the future is in great hands: Black queer and trans kids are changing the world for the better. Even in the face of hostile politicians taking away their rights to play sports, school systems denying the celebration of queer history, and losing access to gender-affirming care and support, young folks are staying grounded in their identities, telling their stories, and organizing to fight back.
Today’s generation of young people have been courageous in their expression and unapologetic in holding adults accountable, as they lead movements and carry the torch of our ancestors toward a liberated future. In honor of their brilliance and tenacity, this issue of The Tea features Black queer youth voices from all over the country.
Read on to learn about the positive impacts they are making, the art they are creating, and their dreams for the future of Black folks! And don’t forget to check out our What We’re Vibin’ To section, which features youth-inspired picks this month.
Tell us about yourself!
I am an indie folk artist based in Miami, FL! I use my music to bring the Trans community in Miami together. Currently, I am working on a zine in tandem with my second album, which includes interviews with Black, masculine-identified people about finding their own definitions of masculinity.
Listen to Mikah’s music here!
What positive impact are you making in the community?
As I create my own art, I strive to create in a way that brings others together. The zine that I’m currently putting together (titled “Leonidas” after a track on my album) is a tribute to Black queer and trans masculinity. The goal of the project is to bring our true stories into the hands of people who otherwise may not seek out such stories, or have any awareness of them. In addition, as the zine is being created, I believe that there has already been a huge impact behind the scenes. I am actively bringing together a group of Black, trans and queer artists, which has helped to create a small community in my city. I’m hoping that with the release of the zine, the network will only grow larger. I would love for other folks to be able to see themselves, and to feel seen, with the sharing of this project.
What inspired you to want to be an artist and community organizer?
Creating has always been my most important connection to living. When I was a kid, my art came very naturally to me, and as I’ve grown older (as it goes), I have had to learn to keep that connection strong. Creating while also navigating the complexities of early, Black, trans adulthood is a lifeline, an intense passion, and a choice that I have to make every day.
I try not to take the term “community organizer” lightly. It’s a role that I aspire to, and they are big shoes to fill. I hope that each project I create is more vast, more inclusive, and simultaneously more thoughtful of the voices I choose to highlight, than its predecessors. I know what it is like to feel alone, because I have lived much of my life that way. Now, I feel immensely proud of my transness, Blackness, the mental health challenges I’ve overcome, and of my artistry, and there is still a long way to go, both for me and for my communities. It’s funny and sad how there can be so many of us who feel alone at the same time. The question for myself is, how can I play a role in changing that? Logically, I know that any movement starts within. I can’t help others if I don’t nurture myself. My internal movement involves singing and writing my experiences. I suppose my hope is that the art can be a sort of ripple that moves others—I want to inspire, to uplift ,to raise questions, and I want for people like me to feel seen and heard. Connection is what I’ve always wanted; I think it’s what we all want.
What is your hope for the future of Black folks?
I hope for the kind of love that invites and honors all experiences of gender-divergence and sexuality. As Black people, we’ve been taught to zoom into our differences, and separate based on them. It’s such an ironic shame to watch the work of oppressors replicate itself within us, and it is also not an accident. Queerness and transness are sacred, Blackness is sacred, and they all exist at once! It’s really important that we examine our internalized ideals of what it means to be Black. Unity is more important, and more of an act of resistance in this movement, than ever.
Is there any message or call to action that you’d like to share with the readers? How can folks best support your work?
My message is simply that grace and positivity and love extend like wildfire among black folks. It becomes so clear once you give those things to yourself and to those who are close to you!
The best way to support me right now is to follow my social media and stream or share my music. I am @mikahsmanyblues on Instagram, and Mikah Amani on all streaming platforms. The Hooded Crow, my debut album, is out everywhere!
Tell us about yourself!
I am a political organizer in Memphis, Tennessee! My comrades and I have organized marches, demonstrations, and other campaigns for Palestine, transgender liberation, and Black lives.
What positive impact are you making in the community?
I’ve helped my local BCTGM (Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers) union raise thousands of dollars for their strike fund during the Kellogg’s strike, organized rallies to increase public support for the Palestinian struggle, as well as helped the first Black woman in Tennessee history win a statewide primary.
What inspired you to get involved in organizing?
I first got involved in political organizing when I was really young, maybe 15 or 16. That was when I first started volunteering with political campaigns and organizations.
What is your hope for the future of Black folks?
I want Black people to have the right to be our true and authentic selves, because that’s when we’re most beautiful. We must be allowed to exercise self-determination as individuals and as a group! Our future is ours and ours alone. We have to fight to realize our freedom!
Is there anything else you’d like to share with The Tea readers? How can they support your work?
I want readers to know that no matter where or who you are, you can make a difference. Grab a friend or two and read some Angela Davis. Contact a national or local organization and join their active campaigns for justice. Serve the people in your communities through mutual aid. Many hands make the load light. Long live the George Floyd uprising!
Instagram: @thekekefield / Twitter: @belikekxkx
Age: 16
A poetic analysis of the painting “Blue Monday” by Annie Lee
I know her.
I know the pain she goes through.
I know the emptiness, the numbness, the sadness.
I know how she moves throughout her days waiting for something that never comes.
In the tints, and tones, and shades I see more than her blueness,
I see the fear and the anger.
I can feel how she shakes.
I can sense the restlessness,
And I know the struggle in her eyes to keep herself awake is reminiscent of her struggle to keep everyone awake.
Always caring for others and pushing herself aside.
She is the single black mom who works two jobs so her kids have everything they need.
Who does it all for none of the praise.
Who is the backbone of the community while being treated as the problem within it.
Whose pain and cries are mistaken for strength.
Who must always push forward and never stop because if she does their judgment and anger will eat her up.
She is the eldest daughter who is charged with being a parent when needed, and the child when discarded.
Who constantly must exceed expectations.
Who desperately longs to escape, but is bound to the kitchen table, and makes it easier for everyone to leave but her.
Who cries silently in the night, then wipes the tears away and curses at herself, then ultimately gets on with it in the morning.
She is the community elder who feeds, cares for, and shelters everyone.
Who gives and gives pieces of herself in the delusion that it’ll make her whole.
Who gives life, yet having none of her own.
She is the mammy, the jezebel, and the sapphire, after hours.
After hours, days, years, of being told what they are and conforming.
Being reduced to nothing but a fragment of her soul.
A fragment you created and only you define.
I know her because I am her.
I am her past and she is my future.
In this reality she is all I will summize to.
No matter what I do,
Good or Bad,
Respectable or Devious,
Just or Injust,
I will end up in that room,
Cold, shaking, and tired.
Oh so very tired.
Tell us about your poem.
“Tired Black Woman” is a poetic analysis of the painting, “Blue Monday” by Annie Lee. At first sight the painting struck me and sparked so many thoughts and feelings. I first saw the painting on Pinterest and mistakenly thought it was called, “Tired Black Woman.” After learning the true name and the meaning of the piece, that mistaken title still stuck with me, and still shaped my definition of this painting. In a way I saw myself in that painting, and this poem is me going through that feeling.
Tell us about yourself!
I am a high school student who likes her math classes, being creative and hanging out with my friends. I enjoy reading, crocheting, sitcoms, and baking. I am interested in medicine, queer theory, and Black Women Caribbean studies. I hope to be a dermatologist in the future and to work on the issues in that field that target BIPOC (Black and Indigenous people of color) and other marginalized groups. My favorite film is Sorry To Bother You and my favorite shows are Community, Young Royals, Sister Sister, and Haikyu. I do a lot of volunteer journalism for student organizations that address issues affecting marginalized groups along with current issues, environmental issues, dermatology, and politics.
What positive impact are you making in the community?
I am currently in the process of creating a student organization centered around assisting women in my community. The plan is to assist women within my community who are assault survivors, victims of period poverty and in need of financial assistance. With the help of other young women in my community we will also provide resources to educate, empower and uplift the women in our community. I would like to make it a county wide and hands on (project), and along with helping women, we would help queer, trans, and BIPOC folk within the community.
What inspired you to do this work?
I was inspired by students around me and I decided to create a student organization. I constantly interact with youth around my age and even younger who are doing outstanding work for their communities, and they have inspired me to do some of that outstanding work within my own community. I also wanted to create something that could allow young women to grow and explore through activism and outreach.
What is your hope for the future of Black folks?
My hope for the future of Black folks is that we create a more united front and we start having more solidarity and love within and for the different black identities. I hope that we put down the respectability politics and begin to protect, accept, and demand more of each other, and hold each other accountable.
Is there anything else you’d like to share with The Tea readers? How can they support your work?
I would like to remind the readers to never compromise yourself, your values or your goals, in the face of a world that is unwilling to accept them. The best way to support my work is to follow @untitled.womens.project on Instagram and share our posts and events that we plan.
Tell us about this piece and the meaning behind it.
My piece Sugar and Spice was my way of representing the LGBTQIA+, women, and POC (people of color) community, and it means a ton to me as a gay woman of color myself!
How did you become an artist and what inspires you?
I have been drawing since I could hold a pencil. As a small child I talked about being a book illustrator. I became serious about art when I got into video games and literature when I was about 12. Other independent artist’s always inspired me to draw since. Currently, I have passion for character design, photography, and animation.
Is there anything else you’d like to share with The Tea readers? How can they support your work?
The Tea readers can support me by following me. My users are @cokii.su on instagram and @cokii_su on twitter!
In each issue of The Tea, we feature our favorite reads, music, and things we love to watch by the Black LGBTQIA+ community! Here are our youth-inspired picks for this month:
By Junauda Petrus
“Told in two distinct and irresistible voices, Junauda Petrus’ bold and lyrical debut is the story of two Black girls from very different backgrounds finding love and happiness in a world that seems determined to deny them both.
Port of Spain, Trinidad. Sixteen-year-old Audre is despondent, having just found out she’s going to be sent to live in America with her father because her strictly religious mother caught her with her secret girlfriend, the pastor’s daughter. Audre’s grandmother Queenie (a former dancer who drives a white convertible Cadillac and who has a few secrets of her own) tries to reassure her granddaughter that she won’t lose her roots, not even in some place called Minneapolis. “America have dey spirits too, believe me,” she tells Audre.
Minneapolis, USA. Sixteen-year-old Mabel is lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out why she feels the way she feels–about her ex Terrell, about her girl Jada and that moment they had in the woods, and about the vague feeling of illness that’s plagued her all summer. Mabel’s reverie is cut short when her father announces that his best friend and his just-arrived-from-Trinidad daughter are coming for dinner.
Mabel quickly falls hard for Audre and is determined to take care of her as she tries to navigate an American high school. But their romance takes a turn when test results reveal exactly why Mabel has been feeling low-key sick all summer and suddenly it’s Audre who is caring for Mabel as she faces a deeply uncertain future.
Junauda Petrus’s debut brilliantly captures the distinctly lush and lyrical voices of Mabel and Audre as they conjure a love that is stronger than hatred, prison, and death and as vast as the blackness between the stars.” – Penguin Random House
Read an excerpt from, The Stars and the Blackness Between Them, here!
Though Kaleena isn’t a young artist, her inspiration to create is largely based on her experiences as a young person. “She reflects, ‘When I was a young kid, between 7 and 9 years old, at school I used to defend the kids that would get bullied’ like a “kid vigilante fighting for the underdog. Growing up, I’ve hidden behind a facade of not being myself, not being openly gay,’ she says. ‘I experienced a lot of despair and hopelessness—very disconnected and feeling trapped inside my head.’ Music has become Zanders’s “safe space” to express and let go of her feelings.”
Follow her @KaleenaZanders. Quotes sourced from 7 Queer Musicians Who Are Changing the Game, By Taylor Henderson, The Advocate
Zaya Wade on their Journey, Trans Identity, and Dreams on Logo
“Transphobia still exists and is widely common. There are genuinely people out there who think that you’re a kid, this is a phase, or you don’t actually know what you’re talking about. I know that I’m trans and it’s not like one day I just went, ‘I want to try out being trans.’ No. So just suck it up. We are who we are.” – Zaya Wade, for LOGO
Thanks so much to everyone who submitted to be featured, referred your loved ones, and helped us to spread the word for this month’s Special Edition: Youth Issue of The Tea! We appreciate you for making this possible.
If you didn’t get a chance to participate, but would like to share your work and/or contribute to The Tea in the future, please fill out this form!