I
COULD
HAVE
used
Steven
G.
Fullwood’s
new
book,
“Funny,”
a
few
weeks
ago.
I
was
in
a
debate
with
an
African-American,
heterosexual
male
journalist
about
San
Francisco’s
white
gay
organizations’
discussion
about
boycotting
concerts
by
homophobic
dancehall
entertainer
Beenie
Man.
The
journalist
challenged
me
to
choose
a
side
by
asking
that
notorious
political
question:
“What
are
you
first:
black
or
gay?”
Many
black
gay
people
who
are
still
on
a
quest
to
find
themselves
probably
wrestle
with
this
question.
“Funny,”
Fullwood’s
collection
of
30
short
personal
essays,
could
help
find
the
answer.
The
book
offers
a
much-needed
voice
for
a
population
of
gay
men
who
many
outsiders
seem
to
know
little
about.
This,
in
part,
is
because
of
the
deaths
of
poetic
gay
writers
like
Essex
Hemphill,
Joe
Beam
and
other
black
men
who
are
militantly
black
and
defiantly
homosexual.
Fullwood,
who
lives
in
New
York
City,
doesn’t
have
to
choose
whether
he
is
black
or
same-gender-loving.
He’s
a
proud
black
man
who
happens
to
proudly
love
“his
brothers.”
In
his
essay
“Why
We
Don’t
Cry,”
Fullwood
speaks
to
heterosexual
African-American
women
who
want
“sensitive
men”
but
berate
black
men
when
they
break
down
in
front
of
them.
“Confessions
of
a
Dick
Head”
is
Fullwood’s
“platform
to
publicly
apologize”
for
the
wrongs
he
did
to
African-American
lovers
—
and
to
himself.
His
essay
“Phone
Call”
made
me
look
at
my
own
shortcomings.
“There
is
no
real
reason
to
call
him,
because,
really,
you
have
nothing
at
all
to
say
to
him.
Not
one
thing
at
all.
But
will
that
stop
you?,”
Fullwood
writes.
“As
the
minutes
walk
by,
you
feel
a
burning
sensation
steadily
mounting
inside
of
you
that
propels
you
to
invent
a
reason
to
call
him.
There’s
the
phone.
You
begin
by
rolling
past
conversations
over
in
your
head,
till
reality
and
myth
intertwine,
and
soon
the
only
thing
that
makes
sense
is
that
you
should
call
him,
call
him,
call
him.
Call
him.”
FULLWOOD’S
WRITING
is
direct
and
in
your
face,
perhaps
too
much
so
at
times.
Do
readers
really
need
to
know
whether
the
author
has
one
or
two
testicles
—
or
the
length
of
his
penis?
Just
in
case,
it’s
an
average
size.
Nonetheless,
the
essays
are
revolutionary
because
they
challenge
attitudes
about
black
homosexuality
and
sometimes
they
are
just
humorous.
In
Fullwood’s
essay
“Celibacy:
It’s
Not
Just
for
Ugly
People,”
he
describes
this
as
“that
choice
that
chooses
us
when
our
dating
life
isn’t
going
as
planned.”
For
same-gender-loving
men
searching
for
guidance,
“Funny”
offers
an
entertaining
affirmation.
It
helps
satisfy
those
of
us
who
are
hungry
for
literature
about
our
lives.
I
wish
I
had
access
to
it
before
I
turned
30.
Steven G. Fullwood
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