Introduction

Black Maskulinity started off as a play on words for an Instagram caption. It came to me in 2017: a time when I was exploring ways to express myself and bend some of the rules around masculinity. It wasn’t something that I had never seen before because inspirations like Andre 3000, Miguel, and Prince exists. Their expression of their masculinity inspired me to push the boundaries for myself and it allowed me to feel validated in my need to not be this super masculine man that the world expects a Black man to be. At this time, I was in graduate school; working on my Masters of Social Work at Hunter and interning at NYU. In order to get through the rigidness of academia, I created art. I created music and did photoshoots in order to add balance. I’ve always had a creative part to me that needed to be fed in ways that could carry me through the academic rat race. During a photoshoot, I painted my nails gold to match the body makeup that was applied. After the photoshoot was done, I washed off the body glitter and make up but never took the nail polish off. I wanted to keep it on. Apart of me wanted to use it to make a statement: that a straight cis gender Black man can wear nail polish and it doesn’t define who he is. The other part of me simply thought it was cute.

I watched people’s reactions shift toward me just for wearing nail polish. I saw my parents freak out a bit. My mom telling me to take the nail polish off and to not go to internship or school with it on my fingers. I saw the eyes that would look at my hands holding onto the subway pole expecting it to be attached to a different person then being confused after seeing that it wasn’t. All this from wearing gold nail polish. Sometimes I would hide them in efforts to not feel like I could be in harm’s way. Because to society, what straight Black man would dare to wear nail polish. I knew that even being perceived as a gay Black man would put me in the reticle sight of a homophobic person, particularly a homophobic Black man. I also know that I have the privilege to just take this nail polish off or hide my fingers as a straight cis gender man in an attempt to get back in line with all the rest of us without too much damage to my self-expression.

Some reactions expressed admiration, praise, and encouragement. The reactions I noticed the most were from people who identified as women. They loved the color gold on my nails and how it matched with my skin’s undertone. I later found out from my mentor and big brother that he admired the way I would show up to internship with my nails. Another close friend who I consider to be a big brother as well, expressed the same sentiment. At the time, I was just trying to feel freer than I felt. I was trying to fight against the notion that I had to be super masculine or stoic in order to meet the list of requirements that society gives Black men at birth. These requirements are heteronormative, patriarchal, and racist. The world tells us to stay within the realm of being bland and colorless: without expression. The requirements that kept me feeling ashamed of being emotionally open and imaginative. All of these thoughts intensified as I started to explore how I was showing up as a man and has been a continuing thought process for me as I go through more experiences in life.

Once I started working my first full time job, I didn’t really make time to think about Black Maskulinity again. I even stopped painting my nails out of fear that I would be judged in the workspace. Nail polish, just like Black Maskulinity began and was put on pause within the time that it took me to post the photos on Instagram. I was too busy trying to find my footing in my first career job as a social worker, trying to solidify my job by passing the exam, and showing up for everyone else. I didn’t know how to make time for this specific project and looking back, I also wasn’t emotionally ready to. I continued to put my energy in music and the moment I released a project called Cleanse is when I realized that there were things that needed to be worked on. There was undealt with hurt from the trauma I experienced when I was young that kept me from dreaming and imagining my life to be more than just survival. I was stuck in the same narrative and hiding my undealt with trauma by being stoic and reliable. I hid parts of myself from myself and thus I was hiding them from every person that I loved and was in relationship with. After my trip to Ethiopia in 2019, I told myself that I would invest in therapy. I knew that I could not CBT and psychoanalyze myself. I needed help organizing and unpacking what I was feeling.

Through therapy the idea of Black Maskulinity resurfaced as I began to dig deeper in an attempt to understand myself more. My therapist became a significant part of my journey toward self and the pieces started to fall in and out of place. I also started reading Bell Hook’s The Will To Change around the same time the city shut down due to the pandemic. I sat with that book and read every page in an attempt to dismantle any part of patriarchal masculinity. I allowed myself to cry into the pages and address the parts of me that I did not like; the parts of me that I was ashamed of and the parts of me that I am still embarrassed about. Between therapy, journaling, and reading, I felt myself walking into a new place emotionally. I was more aware of my emotions. Anger became sadness, disappointment, loneliness, hurt, and guilt. I allowed myself be in my feelings and for the first time in my life since I was a kid, I felt human. I realized that I was wearing so many masks that I didn’t know myself. I didn’t know how to spend time with myself because my unresolved hurt kept resurfacing but the pandemic forced me to work and be home. Home, during the evening and on weekends, I spent alone in my bedroom journaling, reading, and meditating. I spent nights crying and lamenting relationships that I didn’t give myself time to grieve and the past hurt that I never tended to. I stopped seeing myself as just a therapist or social worker. I started to see myself as human. I started to see myself as me: unhealed but still beautiful and worthy of love, care, empathy, and nurturing.

Creating this forum; creating a podcast and blog posts is a part of my vision to normalize what I was able to experience. To give people an understanding that Black men are emotional beings just like anyone else. I know that I am not the only one who is feeling the pressure of patriarchy to be “strong”. I know my journey is not singular, thus I decided to create a virtual space where people who identify as Black men can read posts and listen to episodes that resonates with them: that allows them to feel encouraged to talk things out, to be aware of their emotions, and to see the importance of their healing. I am on this journey like anyone else. I wouldn’t have thought keeping gold nail polish on would have created something like this but I’m glad it did. Thank you for reading Black Maskulinity’s first blog post.

With Love,

Josh the Therapist