One of the basic theories of identity in the context of feminist and queer studies is intersectionality. It is a critical theory and analytical framework which aims to understand how the various elements of a person’s social identities combine to create the various forms of oppression or privilege. Intersectionality can both complicate people’s lives and also serve as a source of privilege. In any form, it is largely inescapable as humans as we belong to the various social groups some under our control while others are not, but personal identity is influenced by these deeply, sometimes opposing concepts of intersectionality (Meem et al. 188). This paper will focus on exploring my own identity as an African, gay male growing up in a highly conservative and religious family and society.
In the words of Eric Effiong from the acclaimed Netflix series, “I’ll be hurt either way. Isn’t it better to be who I am?” (Sex Education). The character greatly appeals to me as in the show they experience many of the same struggles with acceptance, culture, and identity that I have throughout my life. I was born in Nairobi, Kenya, which despite being one of the largest economies in Eastern Africa, remains impoverished with high levels of economic inequality. My father was a church minister, we were not wealthy, but he tried his best to provide a life for us. Kenya’s population is over 70% Christian since it was a British Colony. A significant portion of society is highly religious and adhering to conservative Christian values. I went to an all-boys boarding school growing up, and despite dating girls, I have known from a young age that I am gay.
Due to the religious values, Kenyan society is extremely homophobic to the point where it is dangerous to “come out” publicly as non-heterosexual. Families would distance themselves and denounce such individuals in the community, while society is extremely punishing. The state does not recognize any relationships between persons of the same sex, and publicly, an LGBTQ individual can be easily assaulted, raped, or even killed. Any LGBTQ+ communities in Kenya are extremely covert and underground, and as a gay man growing up in the country, I had to constantly pretend that I was heterosexual, even to my closest family members.
Eventually, I was able to move to the United States, where I have worked hard to create a good life for my family. At the same time, being present in a more diverse environment, especially in recent years where being LGBTQ+ has been more accepting in the society, I finally felt that I could no longer have to suppress that part of my identity. At first, when arriving in the US, I was curious, but cautious after witnessing years of discrimination. However, eventually, I felt safe and confident enough to let the people close to me know that I was gay and had known since I was young. Unfortunately, very few of them took it well, and my family and old friends in Kenya have largely disavowed from me and will not attempt to understand. It is painful to experience, and I struggle with personal guilt to this day, that my ‘gayness’ is the root of so many problems in the relationships I had with family and friends. However, my social circle here in the US is accepting and supportive of me, they are either LGBTQ+ themselves or are so called ‘allies.’ This allows me to feel comfortable and know that I have a support system that accepts my identity and myself as an individual without letting my sexual orientation influence their judgement.
Circling back to the concept of intersectionality, it is evident that my personal set of backgrounds, circumstances, and influences have contributed to the formation of my identity as an adult. I have experienced both sources of power and those of vulnerability. Notably, my biggest oppression came from the society where I grew up – the long-held traditions, family expectations, religious suppression, conservative views, and personal guilt. My biggest source of vulnerability in that context is that I am gay. It is not accepted by either my family, my ethnic community or tradition, or my religion. I am also a gay African man, that fact presents its own set of challenges. According to Meem et al., an experience of a gay black man “assumes complexities and nuances that are intrinsic to how this culture understands and constructs both race and sexuality” (p.188). While being African where the majority of the population is black in Kenya, and African American in the United States are different experiences, the innate factor of being LGBTQ+ while black is also a challenging concept.
The intersectional stigma that occurs at different levels of influence (such as community, structural, or interpersonal) is based on co-occurring and intersecting identities. For example, black men who have sex with men are disproportionately affected by HIV infection compared to other races, despite reporting consistently having fewer partners and even low-risk behaviors. However, half of black gay men are expected to acquire HIV at some point in their sexual lives, compared to 25% Hispanic and 9% white. That disparity stems from a much lower uptake of PrEP use, with 11% in black men, compared to 69% white men. That lower PrEP uptake is attributed to intersectional stigma that creates discrimination based on the multiple identities in areas such as healthcare, counseling, sexual education, and socioeconomic opportunities to access protection or medicines (Samuel). Therefore, my major points of vulnerability that have contributed to my identity in intersectionality are:
- ethnicity/race as an African black individual, an inherent stigma that carries across the world, as I am not only black but part of the Kenyan tradition, which also does not necessarily fit with the traditional African American culture in the US;
- my sexual orientation as gay that I had to suppress for more than a decade for my own safety, and could only learn about it and understand my sexuality based on the rare materials and testimonies I could find;
- social isolation since I was essentially always different from my peers in Kenya, and once coming out in America, many of the deeply ingrained connections with my family, friends, and community were severed because of their lack of acceptance.
However, there are also elements of my identity that serve as sources of power, which have helped me tremendously on my path to becoming a strong, independent, and openly gay man in an environment where I feel safe. My ability played a role, as I have always been strong and could stand up for myself, giving me confidence and some security. I am also a male, which in Kenyan society especially, does have intrinsic social benefits as I was provided more opportunities for education and jobs that eventually allowed me to immigrate to the US. That is something that a female is less likely to have in Kenya without first marrying a successful husband. I also have strong psychological resources, with my life experience giving me the ability to cope with challenges and maintain stability even in the most difficult moments. These points of power and privilege have contributed to my identity and achievements, which in turn, allowed me to explore my sexual identity fully and come out as gay once in America.
Works Cited
Meem, Deborah T., et al. Finding Out: An Introduction to LGBTQ Studies. 3rd Edition, Sage Publications, 2017.
Samuel, Krishen. “Being Black and Gay: How Intersectional Stigma Impacts on the Uptake of PrEP.” Aidsmap, Web.
Sex Education. Created by Laurie Nunn, Netflix, 2019-present.