Strange Fruit

APerformance about Identity Politics

E.Patrick Johnson

Introduction Givenrecent developments incritical race, queer, feminist, and gendertheory , Iconsidered writingan essaythat would engage the various arguments circulating amongthese disciplinary camps: essentialismvs. constructionism,discursivity vs. materiality,class vs. race,etc. I wasgoing to submit theessay to the 1998 National CommunicationAssociation Convention (NCA) as part of apanelon race and sex- ualityto be presented inthe fall of 1998.Theessay failed. I lacked boththe moti- vationand drive towrite in that form. Ibeganto write what eventually became a script for aperformance of mylife history .Icalledmy colleague, Bryant Keith Al- exander,to see if hehadsomething in his performance bagon race and sexuality . He did. Thus,we submitteda performance panelto the Black Caucusof NCAen- titled,“ ResidueT races ofaBlack GayMasculinity .”The title of myperformance was Strange Fruit andBryant’ s was Brother Scars .Ourperformances atthe conference inNew York lasted 30 minuteseach, and were followedby alivelydiscussion that raised manyimportant questions about identity politics. Icontinuedto add moreto the script andit eventually became a 90-minuteper- formancein eight “ movements.”Each movement re ects adifferent aspect ofmy identityaround which my “ queerness”pivots. They range from myperformance of dragto issues of black masculinityto how I negotiatedrace, gender, and sexuality in Ghana,W estAfrica. The show utilizes slides, music, voice-overs,dance, and en- couragesaudience participation. Thefull-length version of Strange Fruit debuted on 19 January 1999 at the Uni- versityof NorthCarolina at Chapel Hill to a standing-room-onlyaudience. I was nervousabout performing such a provocativepiece onthe campus ofabig south- ernuniversity .Much tomy surprise, itwas well received, thoughnot without someunexpected and“ queer”responses from variousparts of theaudiences. For instance,on opening night —aFriday—the majority of theaudience was black womenacademics. Notonly did theyregister all of theinside academic punningin theperformance (e.g.,references toHortenseSpillers, Judith Butler, bell hooks,

TheDrama Review 47, 2 (T178), Summer 2003. Copyright q 2003 New YorkUniversity and the Massachusetts Institute ofTechnology

88 Strange Fruit 89 etc.),but they were notshy about participating in thosemoments in the show whenthe audience is encouragedto clap, dance, or say“ Amen.” Thesecond night,however, was decidedly different. Populatedwith mostly black gaymen —someof whomI knew—theSaturday night audience was cold anddespondent. Theirfaces looked pained andperforming for themwas work. I noticedthat a few black meneven left at intermission.During the black gayclub scene inwhich I encourageaudience members toclap andverbally respond, the black gaymen in the audience in particularsat motionless, taciturnly resisting my invitationto participate in the performance. Afterthe show ,Iasked oneof my goodfriends, whois alsoa black gayman, if hesensed thetension in theaudience from otherblack queer brothers.His response wastelling: “ Ican’t believe youput ourbusiness inthe street like that,” he said. “Whatdo youmean?” I responded. “Thechildren don’ t wantall of thosestraight folks knowingtheir business. Some ofusain’t asoutabout that stuff asyou are. W e[are] still intheSouth, you know .” IguessI knew,butI hadn’t remembered. Inthe pseudo-liberal space of this“ south- ernivy ,”Idid notregister the anxiety that a showsuch as Strange Fruit wouldcreate for black gaymen whose lives are complicated by thehegemony of homophobia notonly in black communities,but also in the South in general.My representa- tionof aspects of“thelife” transgressed an unspokencontract among southern black gaymen: never speak of oursexuality outside the boundaries of “our”des- ignatedspaces. Therefore,responding favorably to my show and participating wouldhave implicated themin its discursive meanings—i.e.,interpellated 1 them as“queer.”The stakes weretoo high —atleastfor someof them—for suchrec- ognition.They were fathers, schoolteachers, corporate executives, ministers even, who,for whateverreason, had not come toterms with their sexuality in ways that wouldallow them to be comfortableeven watching a performance abouta black gayman’ s experience—their experience. Thereafter,I performed Strange Fruit atvarious colleges and universities around thecountry including the University of Texasat Austin, Mt. Holyoke College, BatesCollege, T rinityCollege, American University ,CaliforniaState University atLos Angeles,Northwestern University ,theUniversity of Vermont,Emory University,PurdueUniversity ,theUniversity of Californiaat Berkeley ,theUni- versityof Massachusettsat Amherst, and the University of Chicago.Again, the showreceived variousresponses from sheerdelight to utterdisgust. After my ex- perience withthe black gayaudience in North Carolina, I neverassumed theshow’ s receptionbased onthe demographics of theaudience. At BatesCollege, for exam- ple,the audience was all white with the exception of aboutfour people of color. Yet,this audience was one of, if notthe most, responsive audiencesI haveper- formed for.During the “ church”scene, for instance,in which I encouragecall and response,there were moments when I hadto pause to let the audience quiet down because their“ hallelujahs,”“amens,” “preach brothers,” and “ tellits” drowned out my“ sermon.” Themost moving response Ihadto theshow ,however,was at Purdue Univer- sity.Located innorth central Indiana in the town of WestLafayette (where, inci- dentally,theKu Klux Klan is stillknown to march),Purdue is mostlyrecognized asanengineering and hard sciences university.Nonetheless,I wasinvited by the AfricanAmerican Cultural Center to come perform Strange Fruit .Iwasmore than abitanxious about performing the show at Purdue, namely because of itsloca- tion,the fact that I wouldhave to drive there,and because ofallof thepreshow publicitythe performance received: thestudent newspaper contactedcolleagues atNorthwesternabout the show; black fraternitiesvolunteered to usher; and I re- ceived e-mailinquiries about the show from Lafayettereporters. Given the con- text,all of thisinterest in theshow set my teeth on edge. So much so that I asked mypartner to drive withme sothat I wouldnot be alone. 90 E.Patrick Johnson Myanxiety intensiŽ ed untilI actuallywalked onstageto face astanding-room- onlycrowd of over 300.Studentswere sittingand standing in the aisles, in the back of thetheatre, and down front on the oor.They hung on to every word throughoutthe performance andgave me aŽve-minutestanding ovation. After thequestion and answer period, asteadystream of teary-eyedstudents came up tometoexpress howmuch they appreciated theshow .“Yousaved mylife to- night,”one white female student said. “I’ve been strugglingwith my sexuality for ayearnow .I’ve thoughtabout suicide andeverything. Y ourshow let me know thatit’ s OK.I’mgonnabe alright.”And with that, she embraced me ina long, heartfelthug. I wouldhave never expected thisresponse tothe show at a conser- vativemidwestern university.Nonetheless,it was a pedagogicalmoment not only for theaudience who undoubtedly were hungry for ashowlike Strange Fruit , but for measwell. The response atPurdue taught me thatthe places inwhich our work asperformance artists/scholarsis mostneeded is notin locations where transgressivework andradical discourse isthenorm (if notpasse ´),butin locales wherethose radical voices aremuzzled by institutionalracism, sexism, classism, andhomophobia.Such responses tothe show also conŽ rm thesubversive poten- tialof performance, theinterventions and “ radicalresearch” it galvanizes by “commingling[...] analyticaland artistic ways of knowingthat unsettles the insti- tutionalorganization of knowledgeand disciplines” (Conquergood 2002:151). Alwaysfollowed by livelydiscussions and/ordebate, each performance of Strange Fruit accomplished whatI hadintended: to raise questions around race, class, gen- der, andsexual identity .Besides wantingto contribute to a dialogueon these issues, onemight ask whyI chosethe autoethnographic performance mode toengage theseideas asopposed tothecritical essay . Over thepast few years,I havebeen thinkingabout the connection between physicaland social location and identity .Raisedin a single-parenthome in west- ernNorth Carolina on the “ black”side of town,my choices regardingrace, gen- der, class,religious, and sexual identiŽ cation were mapped outlong before I wouldconsciously make up myown mind aboutthose identiŽ cations. For the mostpart, I performed accordingto the script: Ilived inpublic housing,played sports, anddated girls.But there were conspicuous “ misperformances”as well.I

1.“Masculinity.”North- westernUniversity perfor- mance (2000).(Courtesyof E.Patrick Johnson) Strange Fruit 91 hada veryhigh voice andsang soprano; I hadvery effeminatemannerisms; I made goodgrades in school and spoke ina “standard”(i.e., non-black, non-southern) dialect—neitherof whichwere considered “black”in the eyes of myblack class- matesand neighbors; I pretended asif myfamily lived ina homeat thetop of our streetrather than in public housing,by havingmy white high school friends drop me off therewhen they gave me rides homefrom school.These performative de- viationsfrom theprescribed racial,gender, and class script raised morethan one eyebrowwithin the black communityin whichI lived, aswell as within my own family. Itonly got worse. When I wentoff toschoolto attend the University of North Carolinaat Chapel Hill, I beganto misperform masculinity.Becauseof theways inwhich effeminacy inmen is linked togayness,my bad performance onlyinten- siŽed growingsuspicions aboutmy sexual identity .Atthetime, I did notrealize howbad myperformance was,in part because effeminacy wasnot necessarily a signiŽer of gaynessback home.Or if itwas,one’ s performance of femininityhad tobe sohyperbolic that there was no questionthat the man in question was clearly a“sissy.”Becausemy  amedidn’ t burnas bright,at home I wasable to camou- agemy budding homosexuality.Butnot at UNC. I couldrun, but I certainly couldnot hide. Still, I continuedto datewomen —onewoman in particular — andperform heterosexuality. Allof thatchanged yet again, when I moved toLouisiana in 1991 to attend LouisianaState University for graduateschool. While Baton Rouge was not the bedrock of liberalismand progressive politics,it was there where I feltmost free toexploremy sexual identity .Whileracism ourishedin ways I hadneverexpe- rienced, Ifeltcomfortable allowing my queerness toperform me asmuch as I performed it.Alternatively ,mywhite students who were native Louisianians chal- lengedthe authenticity of mysoutherness on adailybasis. Theyreminded methat NorthCarolina is not really intheSouth. Besides, Icouldn’t possibly teachthem toforgettheir “ heritage”by makingthem pronounce the “ ing”endings of words whenthey gave their speeches inmy public speakingcourse. As oneirate white malestudent succinctly stated, “ There’s nowayyou’ re gonna learn [ sic] me to for- getmy heritage. There’ s justno motherfuckin’ way!” Myperformance ofblackness heldup fairlywell in BatonRouge, but varied amongwhites and blacks. WhenI metmy white landlord for theŽ rsttime (I rentedthe apartment sight unseen), for instance,she told me thatI did not sound likea black person overthe phone. “ Icanusually pick ’em [black people] out,” shesaid, “based onthe stereotype. But you didn’ t soundlike a black person atall. Youdidn’ t havethat drawl like most of ’em have.I justwasn’ t prepared for youto be black.”Around some African Americans, my performance ofblackness proved tobe off-puttingbecause Iwastoo “ uppity”or “militant”or just...“ too.” Thus, I retreatedto the sanctity of myqueerness, careful however, to parade itonlyin the presence of myclosest friends. In 1993,Ireceived adissertationfellowship from andeventually became afac- ultymember atAmherstCollege in Massachusetts. My days atAmherstwere the best of timesand the worst of times,and called for evenmore performances. A place wherepedigree, region,and class make orbreak you,Amherst brought to thefore allof the“ whatnesses”2 ofmyidentity: blackness, queerness,maleness, lowerclassness, southerness, and so on. The pressure proved tobe toomuch as I triedto conceal my southerness here, exaggerate my queerness there,foreground myblackness here,cast off mylower-classness there —theperformance wasspin- ningout of control.Then the material reality of itall set in and I became theob- ject ofemotionaland psychological abuse —from colleaguesand from students. Steadily,mybody became thesite upon which performativity met performance, wheretextuality became corporeality,theorybecame practice. Ireceived aleavefrom Amherstand moved back toNorthCarolina in 1998. 92 E.Patrick Johnson Whata difference eightyears can make. I leftas acloseted“ straight”man and re- turnedas a radicallyout “ queer”one. I stillperformed outsidethe lines, however, thumbingmy nose at racial,gender, class, and sexualidentiŽ cations, especially the morepopular ones prescribed inthe South (as nebulousas the demarcation of NorthCarolina as the“ South”may be!). Misbehaviorand misperformance be- camesynonymous with my name. I faired well,nonetheless. My friends kept speaking tome andI neverreceived aletterfrom thestate’ s greatSenator Jesse Helms. Now thatI haverelocated again, and for theŽ rsttime to a “major”city like Chicago,I beginanew in my negotiations of identity.AlthoughChicago is lo- catedin the“ heartland”of theUnited States —indeed, ageographical“ center” wherethe land as wellas identities are thought of as“attened”— IamconŽ dent thatidentity politics will reign supreme. Thepoint is thatidentity and one’ s ex- perience of itshift not only alongside physical movement, but psychological movementas well. Mypersonal and physical journey to variouslocations, sites and citations, spaces andplaces, provides acontextfor theimpetus of Strange Fruit .Atthevarious sites whereI lived, geographicallyand psychologically ,andwithin the subject positions Iinhabited,my identities were afŽ rmed accordingto discursive criteriabased uponan identitypolitic. In many instances, I felta ourishof anxietyabout some aspect of theidentity that I mayor maynot have been performingat the time. Indeed, therewere manytimes when I feltthat if Imisperformed, evenin the slightestway ,mylife might be indanger. Thus, Strange Fruit was born. Itakethe title from the 1939 songwritten by AbelMeeropol (aka “ Lewis Al- lan”) andsung by BillieHoliday .Thesong is amanifestoagainst lynching in the South:

Southerntrees bear strangefruit, Bloodon the leaves and blood attheroot, Black body swingingin theSouthern breeze, Strangefruit hanging from thepoplar trees.

Pastoralscene ofthegallant South, Thebulging eyes and the twisted mouth, Scentof magnoliasweet and fresh, Andthe sudden smellof burning esh!

Hereis afruitfor thecrows topluck, For therain to gather,for thewind tosuck, For thesun to rot, for atreeto drop, Hereis astrangeand bitter crop. (Allan 1939)

Becausethe lyrics of thesong necessarily conjoin gender, race, and sexualityas theyare mapped ontothe black body uponwhich the violence of lynchingis en- acted,I, too,employ the metaphor of lynchingthroughout this performance. WhileI intentionallynever play or perform thesong during the show ,Idraw uponthe title as a tropefor thevarious kinds of“lynchings”that occur atthe handsof purists whoattempt to demarcate the boundaries of authenticidentity . Threatenedby anever impending“ exorcism”of myidentities of black, middle class,male, gay ,Christian,and southern (among others), I wroteand perform my version of Strange Fruit by incorporatingmy personal narrative, poetry ,dance,mu- sic, andvisual media to callattention to the ways in which identity is embraced andaverted, adorned and discarded, authenticatedand destabilized— all in rela- tionto one’ s physical,geographical, cultural, psychological, and social location. Beyondits signiŽ cation of “fruit”as the black lynchedbody ,thetitle is alsosig- Strange Fruit 93 niŽcant in the context of thisperformance because italso symbolizesthe lynched homosexual body .Originally conceived asa homophobicepithet, “ fruit,”like “ queer” hasbeen reappropriated by gaysas a vernacularterm whosemeaning is ambivalent.That this particular fruit is “strange”also speaks tothe peculiarity and “ quareness” of theblack gaybody withinlarger society (see Johnson 2001). Thus,the performance attemptsto demonstrate thistitular doubling by complicatingthe ways in which “blackness”and “ queerness”signify in overlapping as wellas disparate ways. Identitypolitics is amessy business. Noless messy are thetheories that attempt to disentanglethe knotty re- lationshipbetween identity as discursive andidentityas materialreality . Strange Fruit is myattempt to (dis)inter 2.Openingimage at UC- myown body —inall of itscomplicity and duplicity ,aversionsand dispersions of Berkeleyperformance “whatness”— intothe groundswell of theorieson identity ,atthegravesite and in (2002).(Courtesyof E. thewomb whereI andothers mourn and celebrate the death and birth of “messy” Patrick Johnson) bodies.

StrangeFruit

The stage has fourperformance areas: Atfar stage leftis a small tableand chair ,andon the tableis a mirror,coldcream, and a whiteface cloth ; inthe stage leftarea isablack 38 x 28 black woodenblock onwhich are setgym clothes, sneakers, a setof two 10-lb.weights, and atambourine;a scrim hangs centerstage; stage right has atableand chair with threebooks; andat far stage right thereis a setof steps. Asilhouetteof the PERFORMER’ s effeminatelyposed body appears behindthe scrim. It isclear fromthe silhouette that heis wearing adress anda wig. The PERFORMERbegins singing“ GodBless theChild” and walks frombehind the scrim toreveal that heis in drag andblackface. Whilecontinuing to sing, he walks offstageand into the audience, passing outgold cards totheaudience that read,“ Black AmericanExpress: Membership Has Its Privileges.”In thecenter of thecard isapictureof a paper bag with ahandreaching outof it.The bag reads “Trick orTreat.”Where the account number would usually appear are importantdates in American/ African Americanhistory (e.g., 1640, 1776, 1865, 1968, 1970).3 The nameon the card is“ Dr.ColoredA. Negro.”At theend of thesong, the PERFORMERstands at centerstage andfaces theaudience. PERFORMER:“ Let’s face it.I amamarked woman,but not everybody knows myname. ‘ Peaches’and ‘ BrownSugar,’ (Slide #1 ofmammyon washing powderbox) PERFORMER:‘ Sugar,’‘Sapphire,’ and ‘ EarthMother,’ (Slide #2 of“Nigger Hair”tobacco can) PERFORMER:‘ Aunty,’‘Granny,’‘God’s HolyFool,’ (Slide #3 ofAuntJemima Pancake Box) 94 E.Patrick Johnson

3.“MammyY ams.” NorthwesternUniversity performance( 2000). (Cour- tesyof E. Patrick Johnson)

PERFORMER:a ‘Miss EbonyFirst,’ or ‘ Black Woman 4.E.Patrick Johnson,age atthePodium’ : three,wearing his mother’s (Slide #4 of“ MammyY ams”) wig, 1970.(Photoby Sarah M. Johnson) PERFORMER:I describe alocusof confounded identities,a meetingground of investmentsand priva- tionsin the national treasury of rhetoricalwealth. My countryneeds me,and if Iwerenot here, I wouldhave tobe invented”[Spillers 1987:65].That’s myalter ego talking:Miss HortenseSpillers. Andspeakingof inventions,I bet youthought that Ma- donnainvented the vogue. Oh no.I havebeen voguing since 1971.Strikea pose! (Tapeof Madonna’s “Vogue”begins to play .Twelveslides, #5–16,ofPERFORMER“ posing”as alittleboy; the last slideis PERFORMER in clown face.After the slides, the musicfades.) PERFORMER:Mama started dressing me indrag whenI wasjust a littlething. (Slide #17 ofPERFORMER as child wearing awig) PERFORMER:Little did sheknow thatshe would playsuch a vitalrole in making me the“ man”I amto- day. (Slide #18 ofPERFORMER in drag) PERFORMER:Now ,I’mnottrying to suggestsome kind ofontologicallink between gender and sexuality . Ohno,no, no. I’ mmuchtoo smart for thatnow that Judy Butlerhas taught me thatthe two are not coexten- Strange Fruit 95

5. Slide #27 ofalynching. (Courtesyof E. Patrick Johnson)

sive [see Butler 1990 and 1993].AllI’ msayingis, Mama thought it wascute when sheput that wig on my head back then,but she didn’ t thinkit was so cute when Istartedsneaking into her bedroom andputting it onfor myself.Agency is such adragfor thosein power! If youdon’ t believe me,ask yourmama! (Slide #19 ofthewords “Mother’s Pearls”) 96 E.Patrick Johnson PERFORMER:Speaking of mothers, (Slide #20 ofPERFORMER’ s motherwith handon her hip) PERFORMER:that’ s mine.That’ s somepose, huh? Yep, Ipicked thatone up realearly as mymother gen- dered me atan earlyage. (Slides #21 and #22 ofPERFORMER with handon his hip) PERFORMER:But I wastalking about wigs wasn’ t I? (PERFORMERsits down at thetable and begins removing makeup)

6.Performerremoving (Slide #23 ofPERFORMER as child inawig) blackface at theNorthwest- PERFORMER:W ell,mother’ s wigsand I goway back. Shedidn’ t havethat ernUniversity performance many,butthe ones she did havewere great. There was something about the feel (2000).(Courtesyof E. ofallthat curly hair on top of myhead that freed me.Those days wereshort lived, Patrick Johnson) however,as I soontraded inmy wigs for footballhelmets. Y es, Iplayedon the footballteam —well,I shouldsay that I warmed thebench. Butit didn’ t matter.I wasa footballplayer. A member of theteam. I onlyplayed on one team—notthe other—anddeŽ nitely not both (winks at theaudience ).Ihadto liveup totheŽ ve otherbrothers who had come before me.They had allplayed sports, sothere was noquestionthat their little brother would as well.See, my brothers bought into thewhole black machothing early on. Check outthis picture of oneof mybroth- ers, for instance. (Slide #24 ofPERFORMER’ s brother pointinga gunat thecamera) PERFORMER:It’ s scaryto think that this notion of black masculinitywas what Ihadas arolemodel. Good thingI preferred wigsto ski caps. (Pauses) But now thatI thinkabout it, I did haveanother brother who also dressed indrag. In fact, itwasmy most homophobic brother who dressed indrag in the eighth grade. (Slide #25 ofPERFORMER’ s brother indrag) PERFORMER:I don’t know what itis aboutthose Johnson boys anddrag. It’ s thequeerest thing. But I digress. Iwastalking about my mother. W ehavea won- derful relationshipand I’ ve nevergiven her any reason to be disappointed inme. I’mherbaby . (Slide #26 ofPERFORMER’ s baby picture) PERFORMER:Mama’ s baby...Papa’s Maybe[see Spillers 1987]. (Rapidly,slide# 27 oflynching thenslide # 28 ofPERFORMER’s baby picture) PERFORMER:But again, I transgress.I mean,digress. AsIwassaying, Mom andI havea greatrelationship, but it has deŽ nitely changed since Icameout to her.W e’re now under this complicity of silenceabout my gayness. It’ s almostas if Inevertold her. But that story ,mycoming out story that is, is nota horribleone atall.In fact, it’ s ratheramusing: She was up visitingme inAmherst and I had decided thatit was “ time.”W ewerewatching the late evening news when I turnedto herand said, “Well,Mama, I need totalk to youabout something. I’ ve wantedto tellyou this for sometime now ,butI’ ve been afraidto.” And shesaid, “Whathave you done?” And I said, “Ihaven’t doneanything. I’ mgay.”Andshe lookedat me andsaid, “Pat!Y oumeanto tell me thatyou like other men?” “ Yes, ma’am.” “Why?” “W ell,I thinkI’ ve alwaysknown.” Strange Fruit 97 (Slide #29 ofPERFORMERin wig) PERFORMER:She said, “Well,I don’t understandit.” I said toher, “ Let me ask yousomething, Mama. Have you ever found yourselfattracted to another woman?”She said, “No.”Isaid, “Neitherhave I.” (Slide #30 ofyoungPERFORMER kissing alittlegirl onthe cheek) PERFORMER:Then she got it. She said again,“ Idon’t understandit, but if that’s theway you are I justhave to accept it.Y ou’re my child andI loveyou.” No crying.No screaming. No Bible thumping.It was great. But we haven’t talked aboutit since. (Slide #31 that reads “Transitions”; PERFORMERwalks tocenter stage andbegins to takeoff the dress) PERFORMER:Can someone help me withthis? (Getssomeone from the audience tohelp him out of thedress. )Youknow black is greatfor givingan illusion,but it can alsobe very conŽning. (Tapeof “ Macho Man.”PERFORMER steps out of dress andputs on sneakers,shorts, anda tanktop and begins lifting the dumb bells. Music fades whenPERFORMER is dressed.) PERFORMER: (Looksat audience )Mybutch drag. Come on, you didn’ t thinkI wasa femme fataledid you?But seriously ,if youreally want to “ unveil”your mas- culinity,allyou have to do is cutoff allyour hair —especiallyif you’re a black man. (Slide #32 oftheword “Hair”) PERFORMER:Now ,duringmy college days Iwasthe queen of big hair.Check it out. (Fourslides, # 33–36,ofPERFORMERwith “big”hair) PERFORMER:But dis hairis dis-cursive! Imean,I’ ve neverseen so much purse grabbing,door locking, fast walking, child protectingin my life until I shaved my head!It opened up awholenew world tome!I hadalwaystheorized about how threateningthe black mancan be inthe psyche of somewhite folk, butbecause I’mgayI thoughtthat I wouldnever experience thatkind ofrace-based fear.All thatchanged when I shaved myhead. (Slide #37 ofPERFORMERwith shaved head) PERFORMER:And then, I decided thatI woulduse my new look to myad- vantageand perform hyper–black masculinityby playingwhat Brent Staples calls, “Scatterthe Pigeons.” At a talkI attended,Staples read from hiswork: 4 (PERFORMERbegins to do curls with thedumb bells as atapeplays excerptfrom Par- allel Times by BrentStaples) VOICE-OVER:I triedto be innocuousbut I didn’t know how.Themore I thoughtabout how I moved, theless mybody belongedto me; I became afalse characterriding along inside it.I beganto avoidpeople. Iturnedout of myway intoside streetsto spare themthe sense that they were beingstalked. I letthem clearthe lobbies of buildingsbefore Ientered,so they wouldn’ t feeltrapped. [...] ThenI changed.I don’t know why,butI remember when.I waswalking west on 57thStreet, after dark, cominghome from thelake. The man and the woman walkingtoward me werelaughing and talking but clammed up whenthey saw me. Theman touched the woman’ s elbow,guidingher toward the curb. NormallyI’ d havegiven way and begun to whistle,but not thistime. This time I veered toward 98 E.Patrick Johnson themand aimedmyself sothat they’ d haveto part to avoidwalking into me. The manstiffened, threwback hishead and assumed thestare: eyes dead ahead,mouth open.His face tookon a bluishhue under the sodium vapor streetlamps. I sup- pressed theurge to scream intohis face. InsteadI glided betweenthem, my shoul- der nearlybrushing his. A few steps beyond themI stopped andhowled with laughter [1994:203–03]. PERFORMER:What amazes me aboutthat passage is howbeautifully Brent Staplescaptures how empowering it is for black mento reappropriate racist ste- reotypesand use them as weaponsagainst whites. How ironic then —andunfor- tunate—thatin the same book, heinvokes thatsame masculinist discourse to castigatehis mother’ s beautician: VOICE-OVER:My mother’ s beautician,Gene, was the star of Saturdays.He didn’t appear everySaturday but just when he wasneeded andwhen, as he said, “someheads need doin’.” Genewas a faggot.He minced andtwisted as he walked. Buthis body hadwrenched itselfinto a caricatureof awoman’s. His be- hindstuck outso that he seemed tobe wearinga bustle.He chain-smokedas he walked, withhis cigarette hand at a girlishangle in the air. His otherarm pressed tohis torso the brown paper bagthat contained his curling irons. [...] Teenage boys hootedand howled when he passed. Geneminced morebrazenly then andblew smoke—POOF!—thatcurled overhis head like steam from apassing train [39]. PERFORMER:And, perhaps itwasa coincidence, butI couldn’t helpbut think ofJames Baldwinas Ilistenedto Staplesdescribe this“ Gene”character further: (Slide #38 ofJames Baldwin) VOICE-OVER:His voice wasraspy and cawing and came out of himin a deep Georgiaaccent. He beganhis sentences with “ chile”or “girl,”as in:“ Chile,guess whoI raninto walkin’ over here today?” ; “Girl,I’ mgladI gothere when I did. Thishead sho needs doin’.” His eyeswere bulging and widely set, always blood- shotfrom drinking.The eyes, over his enormous mouth, made himlook like a frog.He laughedwith his head thrown back, andthe froggish mouth open, show- ingthe capacious spaces amonghis teeth [ 39–40]. PERFORMER:Staples went on todescribe Genedoing hair. His description of Gene’s hairstyling was nothing short of lyricaland  attering.I wasconfused. Howcould he paint him as astereotypical“ queen”on the one hand, and as a creativehair artist on theother? My heart began to race as it always does when I’maboutto ask apointedquestion of someonewho’ s reallyimportant. But, I couldn’t letthis one go. (PERFORMERraises his hand )Mr. Staples,in that last sectionyou just read, you do awonderfuljob of describing Genedoing your mother’s hair.I mean,your description wasso methodical and lyrical and poetic. Yet,in the preceding pages,you describe Geneas a“faggot.”Can you talk about thosetwo disparaging images?” And in the most machismo posture he could mus- ter,his shirt unbuttoned down to hisnavel and hislegs straddling the podium, his response tome was:“ Well,he was afaggot.I mean,it was 1957 andthat’ s what hewould have been called.There’ s noother way to say it. But I tellyou this, whoeverplays Gene in the movie (and there will be amovie),he’ s goingto win theAcademy Award.” Dis hairis deŽnitely discursive. (Fiveslides of different black hairstyles # 39–43 [see Mercer 1994:230–35]; slide #44 of RuPaul;tape of RuPaul’ s “Supermodel”begins to play .PERFORMERputs on adoc- toral gown completewith hoodand cap and“ models”the gown inrunway fashion.) PERFORMER:Now thisis onegown I didn’t mind wearing.And although I Strange Fruit 99 wasglad to leave LSU ,Imade mymark whileI was there.I evenbecame the“ posterchild” for minorityre- cruitment: (Slide #45 ofPERFORMERon LSU brochure with quote: “Ithinkit is very importantto increase the number of minority graduate studentsat historically whiteinstitutions. Not only dowe serve as asupportsystem for oneanother ,butwe pave theway for andbecome mentors for thosewho comeafter us.”) PERFORMER:As you can see, my “ big hair”days continuedwell into graduate school! I didn’t beginto losemy hair until I gotto Amherst College. Y ep, atAm- herstmy hair came out and I cameout —infact, hair loss,racism, andhomophobia worked togetherrather well there. 7.“Quare Studies.” NorthwesternUniversity (Slide #46 ofJohnsonChapel at AmherstCollege; PERFORMER stands infront of the performance( 2000). (Cour- projectedslide) tesyof E.Patrick Johnson) PERFORMER:This site is namedafter me. It’ s calledJohnson Chapel. It houses theEnglish Department at the“ Fairest”College —aka,Amherst College. My of- Žce is inthebasement. (Slide #47 ofthewords “Black Bucks”; PERFORMERbegins to walk aroundthe stage) PERFORMER:What does itmean to queer aspace? Howdoes onego about thatif hisbody is alwaysalready bound toa contradictorydiscourse ofhyper- heterosexualityand bestiality on theone hand, and childlike docility on theother? Imean,what’ s agirlto do? Answer:examine the ways in which the black queer body is trafŽcked downthose ivory halls. (Slide #48 ofpictureof casket beingcarried through acrowd) PERFORMER:But again, I transgress,I meandigress. (Slide #49 ofthewords “Collegialityand ‘ Quare’Studies” ) PERFORMER:I’ ve alwaysliked theword “queer”because mymother and my grandmotherused tosayit allthe time when I waslittle. They’ d sayit in thisthick, southernblack dialect.They’ d say,“thatsho’ ll is a‘quare’chile.” For them, queer meant“ odd”or slightly off-kilter, as my grandmother might say —notexactly straight.So, it’ s nowonderthat my research has increasingly become moreabout queer studies.In fact, everything I know aboutqueer studies Ilearnedfrom my grandmother. (Slide #50 ofpictureof PERFORMER’s grandmother) PERFORMER:When I wentto live with my grandmother to collect her life historyfor mydissertation, she brought me uptodate on the people whohad moved intoher neighborhood since mylast visit. My grandmother says, “ Well, we gotone of them‘ homalsexuals’living down here.” “A what?,”I asked. “You know,oneof themhomalsexuals.” “W ell,how do youknow the man’ s ahomo- sexual,Grandma?” “ Well,he gardens,keeps acleanhouse, and bakes pies.”Now , allof theseapplied tome aswell,except for gardening.I don’t likegetting my handsdirty .Quare,indeed. HaveI startedtransgressing again? Back toAmherst. (Slide #51 ofJohnsonChapel; PERFORMER crosses tostage right andpicks upa book) PERFORMER:The Ž rstqueer thing:I’ mstandingat thecopier, whena senior colleaguewalks uptome holdingsomething behind hisback. Thisparticular col- 100 E.Patrick Johnson league,you should know ,writes/theorizesabout sports —raceand sports, hom- osocialityand sports, cheeseburgers andsports, sports andsports —youget the picture.He brings hishand from aroundhis back toreveal his latest book. “Pat- rick,”he says, “ haveyou seen the cover of mylatest book?” “ No,I haven’t.” In a ash,he’ s holdingthe book aninch from myface chanting,“ Isn’t thathot? Wouldn’t youlike that? W ouldn’t youlike to taste that? W ouldn’t youlike to look atthat?Isn’ t thathot?” The cover is apictureof GregLouganis in Speedos diving intoa poolof water.I lookat mycolleague and reply , (Slide #52 ofa Klansman “hushing”) PERFORMER:It’ s anicecover. (Slide #53 ofJohnson Chapel) PERFORMER:The second queer thing:The second week ofOctober is Na- tionalComing Out W eek andthe Lesbian, Gay,Bisexual,and T ransgenderAs- sociationusually has events to celebrate this week of queerness.I’ mrunninglate for ofŽce hours,so I barelynotice the pink andyellow chalkings lining the side- walks.I walkinto Johnson Chapel and this same colleague is standingin the hall talkingto another colleague. I gointothe main ofŽ ce, grabmy mail and as I step back intothe hallway ,said colleagueturns, points at me andsays, “ Ohlook! There’ s one.There’ s Patrick.”He runsover to me andgives me abig bearhug. As Ipry himoff ofme Isay,“Whatare you doing?” And he replies, “ Well,the signs out- side say,‘Huga queer today.’” (Slide #54 oflynching) PERFORMER:But it wouldbe thestudents (Slide #55 ofJohnson Chapel) 8. Slide #52 of a Klans- PERFORMER:who would bring into clear focus theintersection of race,gen- man“ hushing.”(Courtesy der, andsexuality as they have been historicallyintertwined when mapping racist ofE.Patrick Johnson) andhomophobicsigns onto the black malebody .If my colleaguesdidn’ t view me asthe lurking, animalistic sex machine, (Slide #56 ofmonstrous black personchasing whites) PERFORMER:some of thestudents sure did. (Slide #57 of cover of CapitolPages uponwhich thePER- FORMER’s pictureappears abovethe caption “ NotExactly Straight: SexualIdentity at Amherst”; PERFORMERsits downat tableon stage right) PERFORMER:Thus, the third queer thing:A stu- dentasks me togivean interview for hismagazine —a special issueon sexual identity .He asks me totalkabout theintersection of raceand sexuality .Littledid Iknow thatthis would be thecover theywould use for thatedi- tion,but that’ s whatI getfor agreeingto thisinterview , andit’s harmlessenough. So Ithink.W ell,because I’m soshy and timid, I’ mverycandid inthe interview aboutmy experience withinterracial dating in thegay communityand how racism affects thatcoupling. (Slide #58 ofquotefrom CapitolPages aboutwhite men: “ I Žndthat I’m suspectof any white man who isinterestedin me. Strange Fruit 101 BecauseI want toknow why .Is itbecauseyou just love black skin?”) PERFORMER:Again, never be candid ina student newspaper. Itwill always come back tohaunt you. (Slide #59 of“Lynch Party: EverybodyInvited” ) PERFORMER:Before Iknew it,the backlash began: (Slide #60 ofquotefrom TheSpectator .Tapeof VOICE- OVERreadingquote): VOICE-OVER:“ Super,Thanks for Asking:Prof. E. PatrickJohnson of ‘Black GayFiction’ fame, in the fall ‘97 CapitolPages says,‘ Personally,IŽnd thatI’ msuspect ofanywhite man who is interestedin me. Because I 9.“Spectator Award”given wantto know why .Whyare you interested? Is itbecause youthink I havebig toJohnsonby conservative dick?’ studentnewspaper at Am- herst College, 1998. (Photo (Slide #61 ofRobertMapplethorpe’ s Manin Polyester Suit, then back toslide# 60 of by E.Patrick Johnson) Spectator quote) VOICE-OVER:‘ Isitbecause youjust love black skin?’No, Dr. Johnson,the an- swer is noneof theabove. W e’re interested in you because ofyourintentional crudeness, butmore importantly ,yoursupreme ignorance.Later in the article, Johnsonmentions, ‘ Whiteprivilege is goingto be presentin any context [...], whereI’ mautomaticallygoing to be discriminated againstbecause ofmyskin color.’W ewouldexpect thatkind of jaded, extremistsentiment from somefac- tionsof thestudent body ,buta professor shouldknow better.” PERFORMER:But they didn’ t stop there.This prestigious student magazine gaveme anaward: (Slide #62 of“ Spectator Award.”T apeof VOICE-OVERwith “beautypageant” music inthebackground) VOICE-OVER:Good eveningand welcome to the 1stAnnual Spectator Awards,the award show celebrating our most infamous, PC, and liberal faculty (drum roll).Andnow the moment we’ ve allbeen waitingfor, the announcement ofour“ BonesThugs N’ HarmonyAward.” (Slide #63 ofAward Star/Trophy) VOICE-OVER:And the award goes to our very ownblack buck ofaprofessor, E.PatrickJohnson. (Applause) Professor Johnsonwins this award for allof his “hard”work onyetanother left-wing political cause. (Slide #64 ofposterof “PositivelyFabulous” ) VOICE-OVER:Especially “ PositivelyFabulous” that fucking AIDSbeneŽ t he organized. (Slide #65 ofSpectator Award wording) VOICE-OVER:The plaque reads: “TheMacho Man Johnson knows allthe tools ofhistrade. His equipment,we hear,is notonly big, but very powerful.And he’ s notafraid to  auntit. But, we’ ll take his word for it.Here’ s tothechocophile in usall.”(More applause) (Slide #66 oflist of words —“Faggot”“ Nigger”“ Punk”“ Coon”“Fudge Packer” “Abomination”— inthe shape ofacross) 102 E.Patrick Johnson PERFORMER:“ Wemightconcede atthe very least,that sticks andbricks mightbreak ourbones, but words willmost certainly kill us”[Spillers 1987:70]. (Slide #67 ofburning cross) PERFORMER:But then again, we eachhave our own cross tobear. (Slide #68 oftheword “Family.”Tapeof “WeAreFamily” ;PERFORMER goes to the audienceto collect “Black AmericanExpress Cards.” ) PERFORMER:“ Family.”Now there’s aword for you.It has come tomean a wholehost of thingswithin this postmodern, or postmortem, society .But,be- causeI fashionmyself asa“black”person, I havea special relationshipwith the word “family.”Ithinkof loveand community and struggle and pride —andin- clusivity.Itryto love“ family”as I love“ blackness”— asbellhooks suggests —as politicalresistance [see hooks 1995].Butwhat of myqueerness? CanI lovemy queerness andstill keep myblack card? (Slide #69 oftheword “Church”; PERFORMERremoves hat andhood and sits on block stage left) PERFORMER:I grewup inthe church. I didn’t havea choice.My mother draggedme toSunday school and morningworship service everySunday .Aftera whilethough, she didn’ t haveto drag me: I wenton myown. I enjoyedgoing to churchbecause therewas so much to do. (Slide #70 ofMorning Star Church) PERFORMER:This is mychurch back homein Hickory .Iremember whenwe moved from theold church building to the new one. (Slide #71 ofPERFORMER at groundbreaking) PERFORMER:This is me atthe groundbreaking. I waswearing my usher’ s uni- form, whichthen consisted of thisgod awful animal print dashiki anda turtle neck. And,of course,big hair! (Slide #72 ofthewords “MorningStar First BaptistChurch: Whereeverybody is some- bodyand Jesus is Lord.” )

10.Johnson,right ofcenter, inthe soprano section of the children’s choir, 1981. (Photoby Sarah M.John- son) Strange Fruit 103 PERFORMER:This was our church motto. It’ s printed onthe weekly church bulletin,which I receive everyweek from thechurch secretary .Itlets me know what’s goingon back home—whodied, who’s onthesick andshut-inlist, who’ s goingoff toschool,etc. (Tapeof “MyLiberty”begins) PERFORMER:I haveso many fond memoriesof church,especially singing in thechoir. I joinedthe church and the children’ s choirat the age of six. (Slide #73 ofPERFORMERin thechoir) PERFORMER:I wasthe only boy in the soprano section and I couldout sing allthe girls. I wasthis fat, boy soprano with a big buttand big voice whogot the churchto shoutin’ every Sunday with this solo. The song is called,“ MyLib- erty”— howprophetic. (The musicswells andPERFORMER sings alonguntil the music fades. Slide # 74 of MorningStar Church) PERFORMER:W ehadoneof thebest choirsin the areaand I garneredquite a reputationas the little fat boy who could sing soprano. I wasalso teased about my highvoice —especiallyas Igotolder. When I reached 15 andwasstill singing so- prano...well,let’ s justsay it seemed alittle“ quare.”But I justkept righton singing mysoprano, until at age 17,muchto my chagrin, my voice changedand I could nolongerhit those high notes and Sherri Shade took over the lead to “ MyLib- erty”...Me? Bitter?Nooooooooooo. WhileI miss mychurch back home,I rarelygo back. Tohiscredit, mypastor neverpreached ahomophobicsermon, but then again, he nevermentioned ho- mosexualityat all.And although there were plenty of gaymen in thechurch — from thechoir stand to the deacon board —therewas never any afŽ rmation of gay andlesbian members. Noone talked about it. If thereare three things the church knows howto do well(and Iain’t talkingabout the Father,Son, and Holy Ghost either),it’ s shame,guilt, and denial! (PERFORMERputs robe backstage. PERFORMERbegins to put on black dress shoes, black jeans,and a spandexblack shirt.) PERFORMER:That’ s whyI thinkso many gays are Ž ndingalternative routes to afŽrm theirspirituality and sexuality [see Johnson 1998a]. (Tapeof housemusic begins. Slide # 75 ofPERFORMERdancing with othermen) PERFORMER:It’ s Labor Dayweekend in 1995,Itakea trip toAtlanta, Geor- gia,to visit friends, toescape from mymostly white New Englandenvironment andto return home to theSouth to Ž nd arefugeamongst my black queer peers. Whilethere, my friends takeme toanumberof gaynightclubs: some are predom- inatelywhite; some are racially mixed; whileothers are predominately African American.One of themore popular African American clubs we visitis called “Tracks”or “TheW arehouse,”though it is gayonly two nights a week—Friday andSaturday .WegotoTracks onSaturday,arrivingthere just a littlepast mid- night.(Among gay bar hoppers, itis unheardof togo toaclub before midnight!) Located abouta mileand a halffrom downtownAtlanta, T racks isindistinguish- ablefrom theother warehouses in the industrial district —indistinguishable,that is,except for theline of people thatcoils around the side ofthebuilding and down theblock. Whilestanding in line, we overhearthe catty,yetplayful conversations ofthosein front and in back ofus:“ She[he] thinkshe cute. T oobad sheain’ t” (laughs);“Chile,I ain’t tryin’to be standin’in this line all night —notwith these pumps on!”; “Look, Miss Thing.I ain’t gotno otherID .Miss Thingat thedoor 104 E.Patrick Johnson betternot try to be shady.I’llcuther ass.” In general,we cruise andget cruised, negotiatesexual deals. W e’re all men on amission.I know I’mhome. Inside, myfriends andI squeeze downthe staircase and descend intothe sea of bodies ontothe dance oor.There is barelyenough room to breathe, let alone move.Every inch of thespace is Žlledwith bodies: fatbodies, thinbodies, hard bodies, softbodies, warmbodies, sweatybodies —everybody imaginable.Clearly , thebody is ondisplay:There are drag queens in skintight hotpants and platform shoes.There are “ butch”men donning their black leatherjackets, liningup along thewall like two by fours holdingthe structure together. There are “ queens” dressed inblack chiffon blousesunbuttoned to their navels and tight black jeans, whoare constantly pursing their lips whilelooking over the tops oftheirretro “cat-eye”shades; there are older men (in this context anyone over 45) sitting on bar stools,dressed conservativelyin slacks andbutton-up shirts sipping their scotchand sodas whilelooking longingly at the young bodies saunteringacross thedance oor.The hip-hopcontingent is sprinkled throughoutthe club intheir baggyjeans, ski caps, sneakers,and black shades,some sucking onblowpops while otherssip Budweisers. Andthen there are those like me andmy friends whoare dressed indesigner jeans (Calvin Klein) and tight,spandex muscleshirts, perform- ingmiddle class (actingbourgeoisie)— as if we actuallyhave two nickels torub together!Y oucansmell us coming because we sprayed andresprayed colognebe- hindour ankles, on thesmall of ourbacks, and,of courseon the front of ourchests andall around our necks. We’re beyond reproach.W emanageto dance—spoon fashion—againstthe seemingly thousands of yingarms, legs, and butts. I dance withthe same man all night —Kevin—afriend of afriend. Kevinand I don’t meanto be exclusivedance partners;it just works outthat way .Wedance close. Everynow and then we back off from oneanother as far aswe canand then come togetheragain. W ekiss. Webump booties.W eholdon to each other for dear life asthebeat of themusic, thesmells of Drakkar, CoolW ater,Eternity ,Escape, and CK-1,thesweat drenching our shirts and moistening our bulging crotches, and theholy sexual spirit thatpresides works usintoa shamanisticstate of euphoria. Timestands still.

Around Ž ve a.m. themood oftheclub shifts andthere is afeelingof anticipation intheair.The music shifts to—No itcouldn’ t be!—whatsounds likethe “ shout” music playedin my church back home.Kevin and I stareat each other with a car- nalintensity as the driving rhythm of themusic causes usto grind harder. Before long,the DJ, a 300-pound,African American man —dressed ina owing whiteshirt, blue jeans, high-top sneakers, a thick goldchain, glittering rings on eitherhand, a baseballcap, anddiamond trimmed sunglasses—appears onthe stage,and begins to do arollcall of different cities: “Wegotany LA inthe house? Show your hands if you’re from thegay mecca of DC!Howabout the northern children from Ms. New York City?Detroit! Chi- cago!W egotany Boston children up inhere? And last, but not least, let me see thechildren from Hotlanta!”W echeerand wave our hands in the air if ourcity is called.Then, the DJ beginsto testify: “ThankHim! For how He kept yousafe overthe dangerous highways and by- ways.Thank Him, because youclosed inyour right mind! Look aroundyou. Somebody thatwas here last year ain’ t heretonight! Look aroundyou! Somebody thatwas dancing right next to you ain’ t heretonight! Look aroundyou! Somebody’ s loverhas passed on!Look aroundyou! Some- body’s brother,somebody’ s sister,somebody’ s cousin,somebody’ s uncledone goneon totheMaker. SisterMary ,haspassed ontonight!Brother Joe, has gone Strange Fruit 105 ontohis resting place! But Grace, woke youup thismorning! Grace startedyou onyourway! Grace putfood onyourtable! How many of youknow whatI’ m talkingabout? If He’s been goodto you, let me see youwave your hands.” Kevinand I, alongwith others, dance ontothebeat of themusic, wavingour hands,crying, kissing, and shouting, “ Yes!”A dragqueen appears from nowhere andbegins to walkaround the side ofthedance oorbeatinga tambourineto the beatof therhythm. The DJ’ s preachingalong with the repetitive beat of themu- sic, works usinto a frenzy.Intermittentlydispersed throughoutthe music, are soundbites from gospelsinger Shirley Caesar’ s song,“ HoldMy Mule.” (Slide #76 ofthe word “Spirit.”PERFORMER dances with tambourinein front of scrim andencourages audience to clap; PERFORMERleaves the stage. Slide # 77 of the words “Black Is, Black Ain’t” ; Tapeof “Black Is, Black Ain’t” chant begins.As thetape fades, PERFORMERreturns wearing robeand carrying apodium.) PERFORMER:God is good.For those of youwho are not familiar with the protocolof theblack church,our worship services arebased ona dynamiccalled antiphonyor, as we sayin the black vernacular:call and response. Soif Icall,you aresupposed torespond. Soif Isay,“God isgood”you should respond with“ All thetime.” God is good! (Waitsfor response) Thank you. Now,thismorning, I’ mgoingto takemy text from fourbooks outof theblack nationalistversion of theBible. I’ llread from thebook ofCleaver,Baraka, Mad- hubuti,and King (Alveda, that is)— not to be confused withthe prophet. Thetitle of mysermon is “YetDo IMarvelat this Queer Thing!” First,I goto thebook of Cleaver[ 1968]. (Slide #78 ofEldridgeCleaver) PERFORMER:In this book we Žndaman,suffering from primevalmitosis; we see aman,trying to obtainlaw and order whilewriting letters from prisonto all black womenfrom allblack men;a man,on becominga black eunuch,prays for

11.“Spirit.”UC-Berkeley performance( 2002). (Cour- tesyof E.Patrick Johnson) 106 E.Patrick Johnson Lazarusto come forth;this man’ s —this black man’s —soulis onice, ashetakes noteson a nativeson— ablack son,a queer son,Harlem’ s son,Emma’ s boy.Cleaver saysof thisson in chapter 2, page 100, paragraph 12,sayshe: “ Itseems thatmany Negrohomosexuals, acquiescing in thisracial death-wish, are outraged and frus- tratedbecause intheirsickness theyare unable to havea baby by awhiteman. The cross theyhave to bear is that,already bending over and touching their toes for the whiteman, the fruit of theirmiscegenation is notthe little half-white offspring of theirdreams butan increase in the unwinding of theirnerves— though they redou- ble theirefforts andintake of thewhite man’ s sperm”[ 1968 :100]. Alittlefurther down in paragraph 13 hecontinues:“ Hebecomes awhiteman in ablack body.Aself-willed,automated slave, he becomes thewhite man’ s most valuabletool in oppressing otherblacks. “Theblack homosexual,when his twist has a racialnexus, is anextremeembod- imentof thiscontradiction. The white man has deprived himof hismasculinity , castratedhim in the center of hisburning skull, and when he submits tothis changeand takes the white man for hislover as wellas BigDaddy ,hefocuses on ‘whiteness’all the love in his pent up souland turns the razor edge of hatred against‘ blackness’himself, what he is,and all those who look like him, remind himof himself.He mayeven hate the darkness of night”[ 101 ]. Yetdo Imarvelat this queer thing.Can I geta Amen!The next passage is taken from thebook ofBaraka— (Slide #79 ofImamu Baraka) PERFORMER:— (or“ Jones”in the Old Testament).As youmay recall, Jaraka wasa troubledsoul —ohthe pressures ofbeautifulblack womenin the system of Dante’s hell—itwas like Babylon revisited. Poorprophet Bones was troubled in mind—theyoung soul wrote a “preface toatwentyvolume suicide note.”Oh brotherLeraka —we lookfor youyesterday and here you come today.Butthough atroubledprophet, he is authorto someof themost important words oftheblack nationalistversion of theBible. Mostinsightful, for instance,is hisanalysis of then president of theNAACP Roy Wilkins. In chapter“ SelectedPoetry” verse “Civil RightsPoem,” says prophet a mammal,says he: “ Roywilkinsis aneternal faggot/ His spirit is afaggot/his projection/ and image, this is/ tosay ,thatif Iever see roywilkins/on thesidewalks/ imonna/stick halfmy sandal/ up his/ass” [Baraka 1979:115].Yetdo Imarvelat this queer, queer thing,Amen! Movingright along. W emove tothe book ofMadhubuti— (Slide #80 ofHaki Madhubuti) PERFORMER:— (alsofound inthe Old Testamentas “Lee”). Isyoubootiwas a righteousman. A manfor change.But he wascool. Change. He preached ofa black Christ—change,change. In the book of “Don’t Cry,Scream,”verses 75 to 80,Haiku,recounts an eventthat challenged his walk with God. DonL. Get-out- of-my-bootysays, says he: “ (swungon a faggotwho politely/ scratched hisass in mypresence./ hesmiled broken teethstained from/ hisover-used tongue. Ž sted- face./ teethdropped intune with ray/ charles singing ‘ yesterday’)” [Madhubuti 1969:27–31].Oh,yet, yet do Imarvelat thisqueer, queer, queer thing!But let us move onto thelast book —thebook ofKing. Inthe Black Nationalistversion, you might remember thatprophetess Alvedawas theniece of thegreat prophet, Martin. Her uncle’s followers,however, scourged Velveeta,and this made hervery resentful. And pretty soon along came old Rea- gan.And Alveda and Reagan got friendly .ThenAlveda got to walking on shaky ground!Don’ t ever getfriendly with Reagan. But my God is aforgivingGod. Strange Fruit 107 MyGod is awonderfulGod. Amen!And he forgaveold V elveetaand gave her the giftof speaking intongues. (Slide #81 ofnewspaper clippingfrom TheDailyT arheel ) PERFORMER:If youhave your slide projectors withyou, advance with me, willyou, to oneof AlvedaKing’ s mostquoted books, thebook of Bigotry.And turnwith me tochapter 3, (Slide #82 ofKing’s quote) PERFORMER:paragraphs 1–5.Readwith me: “ Kingspent a signiŽcant amountof thespeech explainingwhy homosexuals should not be included inthe civil rightsmovement. ‘ God hatesracism; God hateshomosexuality ,’Kingsaid. ‘God lovespeople whohave been victims of racism andhomosexuals. Homosex- ualityis abindinglifestyle,’ she said. Manypeople sheknows areformer lesbians orformer gaymen —butshe says she knows of noformer blacks, Kingsaid. ‘If youwere bornthat way ,youcan be bornagain’ ” [King 1998:1].Amen!Amen! Yetdo Imarvel.Y etdo Imarvelat this queer, queer, queer, queer, queer, queer, queer thing! (Slide #83 ofemptyslide) PERFORMER:But I submit toyouthis morning. That long before therewas a Cleaver.Long before therewas a LeRoiJones. And way back therebefore we heardof aDonL. Madhubuti.And way on back before Alveda.There was God. AGod whosaid suffer untome queer children.Mother/ Father/Spiritwho said, it’s yours,for theasking. Y ours!It’ s yourblessing. Whatever you need. It’ s yours. Sohowcan it be thatyou question my authenticity? Howcan it be thatyou question my authenticity? Howcan it be thatyou question my authenticitywhen I amthe Queen? (Slide #84 ofLittleRichard) PERFORMER:So I ask again Howcan it be thatyou question my authenticity? Howcan it/ howcan it be? For you see IamtheQueen you know theQueen who hits those high E atson Sundaymorning, eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEeheheheheheheh getsthe sistahs to shoutin’ thebrothahs to squirmingin their seats before ol’preach takeshis text from Leviticus/how/can/it/be? (Slide #85 ofemptyslide) PERFORMER:the Queen whostands like a teacup handon hip anddressed tokill in retail storesall over the country 108 E.Patrick Johnson readyto accessorize youout of yourheretofore tacky fashions/ how/can/it/be? thatyou question my authenticity? the Queen whoserviced youlast night whenshe had better things todo withher time andwhohad hadbetter ohhowcan it be? the Queen whoSNAPPED! andgavea mana heart attack/on/his/manly/subjectivity/how/can/it/be? whenQueen rustin couldn’t gethis props for beinga Queen Queen Bee Black Queen causehis afro-sheen smellin’ “brothahs”said notin my black artsmovement outof shackles intothe black handsthat do notknow the power oftheirhold on the Queen’ s throat untilher song is inaudible untilher song is gone untilher song is please/baby/please/baby/baby/baby/please mr. lee/excuse/me/mr./haki/madhubuti don’t hateme causeI’ mbeautiful/how/can/it/be? thatyou question my authenticity? whenQueen langston writin’the weary blues for mr.charlie/ blues/cause he’s blueat the “ Cafe: 3 a.m.” causehis friend wentaway bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu blew me away whenthey said he’s not gay/how/can/it/be? whenjimmy b. thegrand Queentress justabove my head turnswords intoŽ renext time/Hallelujah!/says theamen corner because theyhave the evidence ofthingsnot seen in theQueen beingstrangled by cleaver’s soulon ice whodropped adime andspread theword ain’t youheard theQueen has noname in thestreet butif bealestreet could talk it would gotellit on the mountain because the devil Žnds work inanother country but theQueen can’ t gobecause noonewill tell how Strange Fruit 109 longthe train’ s been gone gone/gone/gone/goingto meetthe man ingiovanni’ s roomto have a rap onrace sothe Queen sits withnikki giovanniand hasa dialogueabout whethera niggercan kill is thata rhetoricalquestion? theQueen wants to know is thata rhetoricalquestion? mr.don l. lee/excuse me/mr.haki madhubuti but excuse me but/excuse me canthe Queen speak? canthe Queen speak of black authenticity canthe faggot tell of His goodness alongsiderev .leroi(jones thatis) whoproselytizes black art astheblack/as/the/black as/the blackass underhis dick? canthe faggot Queen celebrate her nubianhue like the pearls she clutches ever sogently canthe faggot sissy Queen serve youup abig heapin’ ofblue/black blurple? canher high Queerness speak in authenticafrocentric Ž eld hollers/scream/shout we wearthe mask thatgrins and lies andlies on theQueen whenher voice is anthropomorphized theorized televised ventriloquized more lies colonizedlike herstory inmanifest destiny inmanifest faggotry because negrofaggotry (Slide #86 of“Menon Film” from TV show ,InLiving Color ) PERFORMER:because negrofaggotry (Slide #87 “Menon Film”from TV show, InLiving Color ) PERFORMER:because negrofaggotry (Slide #88 “Menon Film”from TV show, InLiving Color ) PERFORMER:is invogue is in vogue asindamonwayans 110 E.Patrick Johnson asindavid alangrier talkin’’bout they “hated it” as when black face becomes queer face as when black racedenies queer space as when black machokills black homo as when black masculinityreads black heterosexuality (Slide #89 ofscene from Spike Lee’ s Žlm, School Days) PERFORMER:as when Isaygamma, you say fag. Gamma. Fag. Gamma. Fag. butI don’t wantto be likespike ormike oreventhe other mike (Slide #90 ofMichael Jordan) PERFORMER:but I’ llstep up tothe mike to say thatyou owe me respect for myblood andsweat on your Ž st (Slide #91 emptyslide) PERFORMER:and you/owe/me black poems that callblack people thatcall black people thatcall all people thatcall queer love black love and you owe me hi-Žves andsoul brothah shakes and you owe me what’s up myniggah what’s up onthedown low and you owe me aspace onthe team arightin the Ž ght aride onthebus causewe gottahave trust/ and you owe me mycard/ my/x/my/check intheblank/ and you owe me somethingother than other causeother didn’ t save your black ass Strange Fruit 111 itwas the Queen sohow can it be thatyou question my authenticity? howcan it be when how/how/how/how howlong before we bleed brother blood/how/long before we getit together how/long before we getit together how/long before we getit together howlong/ not/long/how/long/not/long or Lord I long for theday that I STOP countingthe t- cellsthat keep usgridlocked (Fadein Martin Luther King,Jr .’s“Montgomery”speech on tape) PERFORMER:from brotherhood howcan it be? brothah?[ Johnson 1998b]

(PERFORMERwalks offstageand lights dim.T wo slides# 92 and 93 of MLK. PER- FORMERsings “SometimesI Feellike a MotherlessChild” offstage. Thirteen slides # 94 through 106 ofdeceasedblack gays andlesbians, including Marlon Riggs, EssexHemphill, AudreLorde, Langston Hughes, AlainLocke, Zora NealeHurston, Countee Cullen, Sylvester,andBayard Rustinwhile, PERFORMER sings song.Slide # 107 of the word “Home.”T apeof song “ Shooz”by HerbieHancock. PERFORMERcomes out dressed inwhiteAfrican attireand sits on stepson far stage right. Slide# 108 ofthe word “Africa.”) PERFORMER:Unlike many African Americans, I didn’t haveany romantic no- tionsabout Africa before Iwentthere. I didn’t thinkthe people therewould run uptomeafterI gotoff theplane and say ,“Welcome,My Brother.” No, I knew thatthey would see me asarichAmerican before theysaw me asanythingelse. Butas theysay ,youhave to gothere, to knowthere. And so, I wenton this jour- neyto themotherland. (Slide #109 ofLa BodiBeach inGhana, W estAfrica) PERFORMER:I neverunderstood Duboisian twoness until I stoodon the banks of Accrastaring out into the distance —intoblackness wherescreams bom- barded myhead, the ocean’ s ebb drew myear to the wind [see DuBois 1994:1– 7].Listen.Can’ t youhear the cries for home?But where is home?The Ž xed melancholysettles and thevoice is mute.Listen. Can’ t youhear the drums? Can’t youhear the muted blood-curdling screams? Listen.Speak tome, Wind. T ellme Iamyourchild, twice removed. Listen. (Slide #110 oflittlegirl carrying anAmerican  ag) PERFORMER:And she appears. Wrapped inthe contradictionsof doublecon- sciousness andcolonization. Her dress, whiteas mymaster’ s skin, fallsjust so over herposed body.I’monthe other end of thegaze objectifying her to speak against herobjectiŽ cation. It’ s acruelirony .Shecarries the aglikea handkerchief to wipe awaythe tears that will come because ofmyrude invasion.Where is my 112 E.Patrick Johnson blackness inall of this?I don’t belonghere. Her tearshave told me, but she holds my ag.Where is myAmericaness in all of this?I hatethat symbol draped over herprecious littlebody .Thistwoness is killingme. (Slide #111 ofDuBois’s grave) PERFORMER:I wentto DuBois for answers.I triedto dig himup tomake him answerme. Listen. Can’ t youhear the cries for home?But where is home?Can’ t youhear the drums? Listen.“ Go,”he said, “andlisten.” (Slide #112 oflittlegirl with ag) PERFORMER:I giveher 500 cedis andshe stops crying.She drops the agon theground and picks itup againand looks at me.She knows. Listen. (Slide #113 pictureof Edison) PERFORMER:And he appears. Edison.He hasbeen atthecamp since 1990. Lisa andSoyini asked himto be ourguide on the camp, butto mehewasmuch more. Hetookus to a club calledLIPS. Now,Ithoughtit strange that there would be a liquorbar ona LiberianRefugee Camp, but hey ,povertydoes notmean you can’ t havea sociallife. So we wentto LIPS. Onceinside, the twoness came to me again. Ghana,Durham? Durham, Ghana? Near the back wallsat a womanwith a weave halfwaydown her back, jeansthat she had to have painted on, and a brotherrap- pinghard to her in his native tongue of Twi.At thebar satthree brothers telling lies,like characters out of someZora Neale Hurston story or like the men that con- gregateat the barbershop inmy hometown. They don’ t gothere to get their hair cut,but to tell lies, drink liquor,and hiton unsuspecting women. (Slide #114 ofownerof LIPS) PERFORMER:The owner of LIPS wasfamiliar, too. He lookedlike my Uncle Boot,who used tofrequentthe barbershop inmy hometown. He showed usto a table,when I couldn’t helpbut notice the sign behind thecounter. (Slide #115 ofsignup close) PERFORMER:“ Nounauthorized persons areallowed behind thecounter. Pleasetake notice and govern yourselves accordingly to avoidembarrassment.” Ok? Andthis all too familiar sign found inblack establishmentsaround the coun- try: (Slide #116 of“NoCredit” ) PERFORMER:“ NoCredit. Pay as youcall, pls.” (Slide #117 ofbartender) PERFORMER:It’ s hot.W eneed somethingcool to drink. Wesitdown at a tableand Edison orders twomineral waters for Soyiniand Lisa, abitterlemon for me,and a coke for himself.When the drinks come,Lisa quizzes Edisonabout his lifeon thecamp asSoyinilistens intently .Ibeginto think about the night before whenwe gotlost trying to Ž nd ourway from theairport. Lisa wouldask inher New Orleansaccent dipped inT wi,“ Good Evening,can you tell me howto get toOsu?” “ Straight.Go straight,” they would always say and “ straight”never meantstraight. It inevitably meant take a left,drive twomiles, then turn right and followthe curve —butnever simply ,unequivocally,“straight.”W espenthalf the nightgoing “ straight”and it got us nowhere.“ Straight,”indeed. (Tapeof Mariah Carey’s “Dreamlover”) Strange Fruit 113 PERFORMER:I beginto doze off when,over the fuzzy stereospeakers Ihear...MariahCarey? (Slide #118 ofMariah Carey) PERFORMER:“ Dreamlover”no less. Why would theybe listeningto Mariah Carey at aLiberianRefugee Camp?Dumbfounded, Iturnto Edison and ask him, “Edison,do youlike Mariah Carey?” “Y es,”he answers asiftosay ,“What’s soodd aboutthat?” “Why?” I ask inan accusatorytone. “ Becauseshe sounds likea black woman,”he says.I cannotspeak. Myvoice is mutedby theinstability of myown identity —ofmyown con- ventionsof readingrace. The African teaches the Afri- 12.Johnsonand Edison on canAmerican to listen.Can’ t youhear the drums? Liberianrefugee camp in (“Dreamlover”fades) 1999.(Photoby D.Soyini Madison) PERFORMER:I liked Edison.There was something sexy about him. But I hada difŽcult time negotiating sexuality in Ghana —thenatives’ and my own. I hadseen menin town holding hands, hugging, and even kiss eachother, but it had nothing todo withtheir sexuality .Infact, I metno self-identiŽed gaymen while I was there.There, W esternnotions of genderperformance ew outthe door. Exam- ple:Edison asked meearlierthat day about my girlfriend —aboutmy Ž ance´e.“ I don’t havea girlfriend,Edison. I don’t havea Žance´e.”He hadno clueI wasgay , northat I was irtingwith him. I haven’t been mistakenfor aheterosexualin years—Imustbe downon my job. (Slide #119 ofMrs.Powell outside her house/restaurant) PERFORMER:W erise toleaveto go to Mrs. Powell’s. Mrs. Powellworks with oneof thenon-governmental organizations and runs a smallrestaurant on the camp. Onour way out, some LIPS patrons,four men, surround me —eachhold- inga Žfthof liquor.“ Eh!EH! MyAmerican brother! EH! Youbuy us adrink? Eh!My friend, do youknow yourhistory? Do youknow thatin 17...55, the white man,he come andtake you, he stealyou from yourhomeland, my brother. Do youknow thatwe arebrothers? W earebrothers, my friend. Youbuyus drink?” “I’llbuyyou a drink if youtell me howto getto Mrs. Powell’s place,”I say,lying. Yep. That’s right.Y ouknow whatthey told me. “ Gostraight.” Aswe continueto walkaway from LIPS, thejeers of themenfading into the dis- tance,out of theblue, Edison takes my hand. (Slide #120 ofPERFORMERand Edison) PERFORMER:W ewalklike that, hand-in-hand “ straight”down theroad. (Tapeof drumming begins. Slide # 121 ofmaleslave dungeon.Slide # 122 ofslave dungeon entrance) PERFORMER:Have I been down thisroad before? Shhhhhh.Listen. Can’ t you hearthe blood-curdling screams? Shhhhhh.Listen. (Slide #123 ofdungeoninterior) PERFORMER:Where am I?Whatis thisblackness? Shhhhh,listen. The drum willtell you. (Slide #124 of“Doorof NoReturn”) 5 PERFORMER:Behind that door lies the answer. Behind the door of noreturn? Yes. Go.Shhhh. 114 E.Patrick Johnson (Slide #125 ofempty slide. The drumminggets louderand PERFORMERtakes offhis hat andtop and goes behind the scrim;drumming ends and the back ofthe scrim islit to cast PERFORMER’s silhouette.T apeof instrumentalof Nina Simone’s “FourW omen.”6 PERFORMERdances behind thescrim whilesinging:) Myskin is black Myarmsare long Myhairis woolly Myback isstrong Strongenough to take the pain Inicted againand again Whatdo theycall me? Mynameis AuntSarah Mynameis AuntSarah, Aunt Sarah Myskin is yellow Myhairis long Betweentwo worlds I do belong Myfatherwas rich and white Heforced mymother late one night Whatdo theycall me? Mynameis Saphronia Mynameis Saphronia Myskin is burned Myhairis charred 13.“Doorof NoReturn,” Myeyesbleed red ElminaCastle, Cape Mymouthajar Coast,Ghana, 1999. Whoselittle boy am I? (Photoby E.Patrick John- Theonetothe fence youwould tie son) Whatdo theycall me? Mynameis Matthew Mynameis MatthewShepard Myskin is brown Mymanneris tough I’llkill the Žrstbigot I see Mylifehas been rough I’mawfullybitter these days Thesenseless killingof gays Whatdo theycall me? Mynameis Faggot! (Lights fade.Slide # 126 ofmultiplelynchings. Slide # 127 of“MembershipHas Its Privi- leges.”) THE END

Notes 1.Thisuse of “ interpellate”is takenfrom language philosopher Louis Althusser who reŽ gures theword to mean“ to call into being”or “ to makesomeone a subject”by “ hailing”them by callingthem a name.His reconŽguration of the word can be foundin Leninand Philosophy andOtherEssays , 173–183. Strange Fruit 115

2.Iborrowthis termfrom Diana Fuss in herdiscussion of essentialism: “Essentialism is most commonlyunderstood as a beliefin thereal, trueessence of things, theinvariable and Ž xed propertieswhich deŽ ne the‘ whatness’of agivenentity” ( 1989 :xi). 3. 1640:blackswere denied the right to beararms in Virginia; 1776:theUnited States won independencefrom Britain; 1865:southernerscreated Black Codes to controland inhibit thefreedom of ex-slaves; 1968:Martin LutherKing, Jr. wasassassinated; 1970:AngelaDavis wastried, convicted,and subsequently released on kidnapping, conspiracy ,andmurder charges. 4.Inthe spring of 1995,Staplesgave a publicreading of his bookat AmherstCollege where I wason facultyand a memberof the audience. The proceeding excerpts are among those that Staplesread. Our exchange occurred during the question and answer session of that talk. 5.The“ Doorof NoReturn” is socalled because it is thelast doorthrough which enslaved Africanspassed before being boarded onto slave ships. 6.Ialteredthe last twostanzas of this song.In the original, thelast twostanzas are: “ Myskinis tan/ myhair is Žne/My hips invite you/My mouthlike wine/ Whose little girl amI?/ The onewith moneyto buy/What dothey call me?/My nameis sweetthing/ My nameis sweet thing. Myskin is brown/My manner is tough/I’ ll kill theŽ rst motherI see/My life has beenrough/ I’ mawfullybitter thesedays/ Cause my parents were slaves/ What dothey call me?/My nameis Peaches!”

References

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Allan, Lewis[Abel Meeropol] 1939 “StrangeFruit.” Billie Holiday. Ultimate Billie Holiday. Polygram, 1997.

Baldwin,James 1954 TheAmen Corner .NewY ork:Laurel. 1956 Giovanni’s Room .NewY ork:Dial. 1963 NobodyKnows My Name .NewY ork:Dell. 1963 TheFire NextTime .NewY ork:Dial. 1964 Bluesfor Mr.Charlie .NewY ork:Dial. 1966 Goingto Meetthe Man .NewY ork:Dell. 1968 Tell MeHow Long the T rain’s BeenGone .NewY ork:Laurel. 1974 If BealeStreet CouldT alk .NewY ork:Laurel. 1979 Just AboveMy Head. NewY ork:Laurel. 1985 Go Tell It onthe Mountain .NewY ork:Laurel. 1985 TheEvidence of ThingsNot Seen .NewY ork:Henry Holt. 1993 AnotherCountry .NewY ork:Griot Editions.

Baldwin,James, and Nikki Giovanni 1973 A Dialogue.NewY ork:L.P .Lippincott.

Baraka,Imamu Amiri [LeRoiJones] 1979 “CIVILRIGHTSPOEM”and “ BlackArt.” In TheSelected Poetry of ImamuBa- raka/LeRoiJones .NewY ork:William Morrow.

Butler, Judith 1990 GenderT rouble .NewY ork:Routledge. 1993 BodiesThat Matter: Onthe Discursive Limits of“Sex.” NewY ork:Routledge.

Cleaver,Eldridge 1968 Soul on Ice.NewY ork:Dell.

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DuBois, W.E.B. 1994 TheSouls of BlackFolk .NewY ork:Dover. 116 E.Patrick Johnson

Fuss, Diana 1989 Essentially Speaking:Feminism, Nature and Difference .NewY ork:Routledge. Giovanni, Nikki 1971 “TheT rueImport of Present Dialogue: Black vs. Negro.”In TheBlack Poets , ed- itedby Dudley Randall, 318–19.NewY ork:Bantam. hooks, bell 1995 “LovingBlackness as Political Resistance.”In KillingRage: Ending Racism . New York:Henry Holt. Hughes,Langston 1983 “ILovedMy Friend” and “ Cafe: 3 a.m.” In BlackMen/ White Men:A GayAn- thology,editedby Michael J. Smith, 30.SanFrancisco: GaySunshine Press. Johnson,E. Patrick 1998a “Feelingthe Spirit in theDark: Expanding Notions ofthe Sacred in theAfrican AmericanGay Community .” Callaloo 21, 2: 399–416. 1998b “Canthe Queen Speak?” Unpublished poem. 2001 “‘Quare’Studies or (Almost) Everything I Knowabout Queer Studies I Learned fromMy Grandmother.” Textand Performance Quarterly 21, 1:1–25. King, Alveda 1998 “KingAddresses Racism, Homosexuality.” DailyT arheel . 19 February:1. Mercer,Kobena 1994 Welcometo theJungle .NewY ork:Routledge. Madhubuti,Haki R. [DonL. Lee] 1969 “Don’t Cry,Scream.”In Don’t Cry,Scream .Detroit: BroadsidePress. Mapplethorpe,Robert 1980 “Manin PolyesterSuit.” Photo. TheEstate ofRobert Mapplethorpe. Spillers,Hortense

1987 “Mama’s Baby,Papa’s Maybe:An American Grammar Book.” Diacritics 17, 2: 65–81. Staples,Brent 1994 Parallel Time .NewY ork:Pantheon.

E.Patrick Johnson isAssistant Professor ofPerformanceStudies at NorthwesternUni- versity.Hehas writtenand directed a numberof performancesat UNC-ChapelHill, Loui- sianaState University ,andAmherst College, and has performedfor nationaland internationalaudiences. He has also publishedessays in Textand Performance Quar- terly, OBSIDIAN II, and Callaloo. His book, AppropriatingBlackness: Perfor- manceand the Politics of Authenticity ,andanthology (with MaeHenderson), Black QueerStudies: A CriticalAnthology will bepublished in fall 2003 by DukeUniversity Press.