My Gender is Black
My Gender Is Black is an experimental documentary exploring how Blackness shapes, complicates, and expands gender identity through masculinity, sexuality, embodiment, performance, vulnerability, and self-definition.
Excerpt
The first step towards living in your intersectionalities is being seen, and acknowledging that the things that make us different, also make us human. Terry Blade’s "My Gender is Black (2026)" is an artful reckoning that invites the viewer to figure out where they belong.
Limitless
Intersectionality is an interesting concept that discusses when a person has multiple social identities. A woman may have the same needs as other women, but a Black woman might require specialized care. Whether an Asian queer man, a transgender biracial woman, intersectionalities provide contact to how we interact in this world and how we’re perceived. There are so many ways we can define ourselves! On a clear day, these intersections have working lights that manage the traffic smoothly. But other times – more often than not it seems – you end up with a big ole wreck. However, the first step towards living in your intersectionalities is being seen, and acknowledging that the things that make us different, also make us human. Terry Blade’s My Gender is Black (2026) is an artful reckoning that invites the viewer to figure out where they belong.
The experimental documentary is only 20 minutes long, but it packs a lot of punch into that time. We are met with talking heads by Cristian Julian Chigboli – a Black trans man, Ujah Ogbole, Big Sexy, Syd Tillman, and James Baldwin. All give insight into the conversation of what it means to be Black, queer and male and what it means to be perceived by the Black community. Chigboli opens his portion chastising labels and boxes. He’s always felt like a little boy and the idea that he was anything but was what caused confusion. Once he was bombarded with female gender norms, he knew immediately it wasn’t for him.
After his section we see Black men in a series of poses that morph into interpretive dance with music in the background. We see very masc presenting men, but with long hair, shades of pinks and covered in florals. There’s not a need to be overly macho which then tenderizes the masculinity on display without the threat of emasculation. Ogbole talks about being raised to believe boys can’t cry because crying is not manly. He says, if you’re told as a boy, you can’t be a man unless you don’t cry, you grow up learning to just not communicate.
The idea of what a man is or isn’t runs as a central thread throughout the film. We see a male model showing off handbags and tight fitting blouses. He embodies feminine movements demonstrated by the female photographer. The masculinity is shown not in contrast to the femininity of the items, but in concert.
When You Poppin’
There are beautiful conversations and the interstitials bring a lot of life to the piece though they can feel a bit too disconnected. There were a couple of skateboarding ones in the middle and they looked great, but I don’t know that the connection to the main theme was as successful as it could have been. That said, the final interpretive dance was absolutely perfect.
I have only one issue and it’s that this topic is far too broad for a 20 minute documentary – even if it’s experimental. The topics discussed are heavy and most present premises that are experiential and not based on stats or data. This is a documentary of emotions which can seem a bit oxymoronic, and maybe it is, but it’s not bad, just incomplete. There’s a lack of focus because while “black queen men” can be a topic, as Big Sexy says, Black queer men are not a monolithe. Intersectionalities need to be broken down and this doc would be better served as a series that focused on specific facets of the Black queer male identity. So much is introduced and then left behind leaving the viewer wanting more, but not being sure how to elongate the conversation. My Gender is Black felt more like an intro to a museum collection than a documentary. As a documentarian, while it’s the job of the curator/director to remain neutral, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a central goal. The truth without optimism brings an unnecessary negativity to what seems to be a hopeful project. I saw there was a 46 minute feature and I’d be really interested to see if that addresses some of my concerns.
Musician and personality Big Sexy talked about the “no fats, no blacks, no femmes” aspect of being a queer Black man in the community. He says correctly that Black queer men are not a monolith and not everyone chooses to live their sexuality out loud. This is fair, but then he smoothly transitions into talk about not feeling accepted because of the mix of his intersexualities within his own community. A few more moments about why this phenomenon of self hate occurs could have added some really interesting depth to the film.
Additionally, a segment featuring Syd Hillman rubbed me the wrong way. She was saying how some women have made gay men “cute”. Turning them into someone we can shop with or talk about men. She goes on to say, “that’s a man, that’s a gay man. That doesn’t need to be romanticized or sexualized.” This statement ends with Hillman saying these types of women would probably describe their gay male friend as “my gay friend” and goes on to clarify she would never do that. She then wonders if women are accepting the gay man, or accepting the frills that come with being gay.
Until We’re Gone
This in and of itself is a much needed and fantastic conversation, but it’s just said and left hanging. The one thing they say about women (outside of Big Sexy saying that moms, baby mamas and aunties can’t handle their men being gay) and it’s kind of condescending and based on negative stereotypes informed by “vibes”. The phenomena of gay male/female friendships seems to mystify the masses, but the argument hinges on the gay male being too feminine and the woman wanting a “purse gay” or a “cute gay” as Hillman says. I don’t know that you can have a conversation about what it is to truly be a queer Black man without talking about misogyny and specifically misogynoir. And segments like this point to the need because this kind of hyperbolized rhetoric is completely formed by misogyny. Both against women and gay men. Looking at the media sources, I learned the clip came from Kevin Samuels podcast: Kevin Samuels Started This Conversation. And that’s… where I started to question the identity of the film.
Controversial podcast host Kevin Samuels made a name spouting anti gay, misogynist, queerphobic sentiment and calling it “advice”. He profits from division and his pundits only add fuel to the fire. In a film talking about embracing the feminine while retaining masculinity, why are we ordering women to see gay men as anything other than what they desire? Hillman says “that’s a man” as though his manhood disables the ability to keke with the girls. So which is it? Gay men are Men™ or gay men are humans and should be treated accordingly? There’s this anti-femme sentiment sewn through the segment and while I believe Tillman is coming from a place of concern, without structure it comes off as disunity.
If the thesis of Black is My Gender is “What makes me a man?” then the answer I got was “When you say you’re a man”. When a couple of the interstitials support that notion while others seem to negate it, it’s hard to pinpoint the core of the message. And we don’t spend enough time in any segment to find out.
And maybe that’s part of the point? Maybe it is just to get our juices flowing and to springboard conversations like these to ensure we’re having them in our own communities. I love that My Gender is Black is about Black queer thought by Black queer filmmakers and performers. The cinematography and performances were beautiful and provided room to expand the audience’s perceptions before heading into the next segment. My Gender is Black is a great start, and I can’t wait to see what other topics Blade has in store.
Score: 6/10