The Power of the Nod in a Pandemic
For one brief moment in Sydney, I was no longer alone
Do you ever pass a stranger on the street and feel a particular something? Maybe it’s an odd sense of camaraderie; maybe it’s the reassurance that there’s safety in numbers. Regardless of what emotion it elicits, you see something in them that you recognize in yourself, even though you’re both different.
Being Black and gay in a world where White and straight dominate can give you a perpetual feeling of being an outsider. The frustration of disenfranchisement isn’t always on the surface. It’s often simmering just below until something — or someone — happens, and it’s all you can think about.
In general, I’m able to negotiate my complicated feelings about being a double minority without too much Sturm und Drang. My straight friends, accepting as they may be, will never truly understand what it’s like to be gay, but I have enough gay friends who do. In the big cities I’ve lived in—including New York, Buenos Aires, Bangkok, Cape Town, and Sydney—I’ve rarely felt entirely alone and isolated because of my sexual orientation.
And then I spot that other Black face in a sea of White. They see me, too, and we nod. We’re not alone.
