Remarks Prepared for Delivery: The Millions More March

Remarks Prepared for Delivery
The Millions More March
Saturday, October 15, 2005
By Keith Boykin

Good Afternoon. Today I am honored to stand here at the Millions More
Movement March as a representative of the National Black Justice
Coalition, the country's only national civil rights organization for
Black lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgendered people. The
National Black Justice Coalition strongly supports the goals of the
Millions More Movement for unity and inclusion of our entire
community.

In February of this year, Minister Farrakhan and I participated in
Tavis Smiley's annual "State of The Black Union" event in Atlanta.
During a press conference that day, Minister Farrakhan announced that
women and gays would be encouraged to participate in today's March.
"The makeup will be our people, whoever we are," he said. Then he
added, "Male, female, gay, straight, light, dark, rich, poor,
ignorant, wise. We are family. We will be coming together to discuss
family business."

After the press conference, I spoke to the Minister and I introduced
myself. "Minister Farrakhan," I said, while shaking his hand, "My
name is Keith Boykin, and I am a Black gay man. And I want to thank
you for your inclusive comments about gays in the Million Man March."
Without missing a beat, Minister Farrakhan responded to me with a
long, warm embrace. "Brother, I love you," he said as we hugged. "We
are all part of the family. We are all part of the same community."
That was an historic moment.

Ten years ago, I joined more than a million of my brothers on this
very location for the Million Man March. At that time, there were no
openly gay, lesbian or bisexual speakers at that March. This time,
however, I am able to speak here today as an openly gay man because
of the courageous leadership of one man - Minister Louis Farrakhan. I
publicly and honestly thank him and salute him for the invitation to
speak. The diversity of speakers assembled here today is a powerful
signal that we in the Black community will not allow ourselves to be
divided by differences of opinion, religion, gender, class or sexual
orientation ever again.

As Minister Farrakhan himself said in August, "we must not allow
painful utterances of the past or present, based on sincere belief,
or based on our ignorance, or based on our ideology or philosophy to
cripple a movement that deserves and needs all of us-and, when I say
all, I mean all of us."

Earlier this week, two of my colleagues and I sat with Minister
Farrakhan, his wife, his daughter, and his son, and with Rev. Willie
Wilson, the executive director of this March. Minister Farrakhan said
it was the first time he had ever sat down with a group of openly gay
and lesbian African Americans. Let me be honest. It was an intense,
passionate and candid meeting where both sides shared their pain and
frustration with the other. At the end of the discussion, however, we
made progress. We realized that there are no "both sides" of the
table. There is only one side, and that is the side of justice.

So today I accept the olive branch offered by Minister Farrakhan and
Rev. Wilson and offer an olive branch of my own. We acknowledge the
hurt and pain that has been caused by both sides in our past
conflicts, and we fully commit ourselves to heal the deep wounds that
have hurt us. Thank you, Minster Farrakhan and Rev. Wilson for the
love.

We have disagreed in the past and we may disagree in the future, but
we all agree that we must move forward together. We all agree that we
will not allow ourselves to be manipulated by the media to create
divisions among us. We all agree that we are stronger together than
we are apart. And we all agree that the struggle for the liberation
of our people is more important than our individual differences of
opinion.

Fifty years ago, Ralph Ellison wrote, "I am an invisible man. . . I
am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. . .
. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or
figments of their imagination -- indeed, everything and anything
except me." Ralph Ellison was talking about the invisibility of the
African American, but the same could be said of Black gays and
lesbians.

When Dr. King spoke at the 1963 Civil Rights March, he called on one
person, Bayard Rustin, a Black gay man, to organize that march. When
Duke Ellington performed "Take The 'A' Train," he called on one
person, Billy Strayhorn, a Black gay man to serve as his composer.
And when Black actors and directors put on performances of "A Raisin
In The Sun," they call on one person, Lorraine Hansberry, a Black
bisexual playwright, to serve as their muse.

Black culture as we know it today would not exist without the words
of James Baldwin, the poetry of Audre Lorde, or the choreography of
Alvin Ailey. That is why I am here today - to honor their legacy.

But I am also here to honor the living heroes and sheroes of today.
My good friend Phill Wilson likes to say that our people cannot love
us if they do not know us. So I want you to know who we are. I want
you to know the activist Angela Davis, the Pulitzer Prize-winning
Author Alice Walker, the Grammy-nominated recording artist Me'Shell
Ndege'Ocello, Editor-at-Large and former executive editor for ESSENCE
magazine Linda Villarosa, and the former Adviser to New York Mayor
David Dinkins, Dr. Marjorie Hill.

And I want you to know the living male heroes. Men like New York City
Council Member Phillip Reed, Former Mayor of Cambridge Ken Reeves,
Mayor of Palm Springs Ron Oden, Bestselling Author E. Lynn Harris,
and Harvard University Chaplain Rev. Peter Gomes.

And finally, I want you to know that we are your brothers and sons
and fathers. We are your sisters and daughters and mothers. And we
are your cousins and nieces and nephews as well. We cannot separate
ourselves from the larger Black family because we are an integral
part of the Black family. We raise our families, we send money to our
nephews, and yes we sing in the choir as well.

The issues that affect Black gays and lesbians are issues that affect
all Black people. Last year I sat in the living room of a young
mother who had lost her child to violence in Newark, New Jersey. Her
15-year-old daughter, Sakia Gunn, was murdered because the killer
thought she was gay. When black homosexuals and bisexuals are
murdered, black heterosexual family members still have to bury their
kin. What happens to Black gays and lesbians directly affects black
straight people as well.

HIV and AIDS is the leading cause of death for young Black people,
gay or straight. Forty-five million Americans do not have health
insurance, and too many of this group are Black, gay or straight.
Unemployment is still too high among Black people, gay or straight.
We are all connected.

When Black people were forced to sit in the back of the bus, Black
gay people were forced to sit in the back of the bus. When Black
people could not vote, Black lesbians could not vote. And when Black
people are beaten and abused by the police, Black bisexuals are
beaten and abused by the police.

We share the same goals and aspirations as the rest of the Black
community, but none of us can accomplish those goals without unity
and courage. We all need courage in our lives. It took courage for
you to come here today. It took courage for Minister Farrakhan to
invite me to speak today. And it will take courage to heal the wounds
that have divided us for far too long.

In the timeless words of Audre Lorde, "When I dare to be powerful -
to use my strength in the service of my vision - then it becomes less
and less important whether I am afraid." So I say to you today: Be
strong, be proud, be courageous.