Yes, I’ll admit it. I was a choir boy. I was the seven-year-old that would have singing lessons with his grandma that wouldn’t end until I either held my notes longer than her, or practiced my scales to her pleasing. Embarrassingly, I wanted to be in the choir for many years, and when I finally… Continue reading My Kind of Gospel
Imagine a 15-year-old black boy sucking dick on a staircase while his mother thought he was at the library. Or a 15-year-old boy going to Pride to have sexual encounters with random men on the street. Or even a 16-year-old boy scared to go to the supermarket out of fear that he might see the… Continue reading What’s the Real Danger Here?
I woke up on Sunday morning in my grandmother’s apartment, smelling the steam that came from my ironed dress pants that hung on the wall. I could hear the loud voice of Pastor Joel Osteen on the television preaching about forgiveness and the goodness of God. “By the glorious grace of God” or “Turn to… Continue reading Sundays With My Grandmother