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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Flamingos fighting can look just like kissing, pecking beak-to-beak. Freeze frame and you may see a love heart in the shape of their two necks arching out and together again.
I’m thinking about going to Hell when I die and a living Hell on Earth.
Such a common fear and thought for newly realkized queer kids
Our PE teacher wears rainbow laces on his soccer cleats. The two things I enjoy about soccer are watching Kieran play, and how our teacher’s laces say to me: “It’s okay to be gay.”
Representation matters!!
Broken / Home Because the turtle carries its home on its back, it does not have to search for one. It is born with a soft shell that hardens as it grows. The turtle’s backbone is part of its shell, meaning an accident or attack could break the turtle’s back, leaving the turtle with a broken home it cannot escape from.
I don’t feel handsome, I don’t feel beautiful, and I don’t feel brave.
Grandad goes back inside. He draws my attention to the news: the story, a black flamingo has landed on the island. An expert on screen explaining it is the opposite of an albino. “Too much melanin,” he says. Camera pans the salt lake full of pink but my eye is drawn to that one black body in the flamboyance.
The black flamingo is on the news again. I pick the dining chair facing the TV. Grandad asks, “Why does it matter if he’s black?” Adding, “The other flamingos don’t care.” And I am certain what he’s saying is: “I love you.”
People Like Me I’d love to go to Jamaica with Granny, Uncle B, Aunty B, and the rest of the family but I’ve looked it up and you can go to prison for having gay sex there. I’m old enough here; why would my equal rights not travel with me? It doesn’t seem fair for people like me in Jamaica to hide, to live in fear.
“Someone in my family came out to me recently and I’ve realized . . .” continues Destiny. She looks to Faith to finish her sentence. “We’ve realized . . .” “We were complete bitches,” says Faith, “and we feel so bad and so awkward doing this play with you without knowing if you hate us? Can you forgive us?”
It is a shame what it can take for people to be accepting
“I just don’t want anyone thinking I’m a lesbian,” she replies. “What would be so wrong with that?” I ask. “It makes me feel sick, the idea of two women sleeping together. Two men doesn’t bother me but two women, I don’t get it.” “What about it makes you feel sick?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it. Will you just protect me from any lesbians that try anything?” “They need protecting from you. You’re a homophobe, Daisy.” “Michael, you can’t force me to be comfortable with all this. I’m not homophobic, I’m your best friend. Nothing changed between us when you came out
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GOOD FOR HIM
They interrupt our joy. Our history. Our progress.
They fear sharing anything. Our success is a threat.”
I feel safe in this room with my new drag family; I carry this room with me for the rest of the week. This room has many other functions to other people, just another room in the Students’ Union building, but when we meet here, it’s a place without fear.
“We don’t have to know each other to show each other love.”
I remember the “sandcastles” Anna and I built on our day trip to Brighton, how she didn’t care there were pebbles and not sand but how on the journey I was so fearful that she was going to cry when we got there, that she would only be happy with sand but she didn’t mind that her “sandcastles” didn’t stay in the shape of the bucket; she was perfectly happy to play with pebbles and call it a sandcastle anyway.
Men are sandcastles made out of pebbles and the bucket is patriarchy: if you remove it, we fear we won’t be able to hold ourselves together, we pour in cement to fill the gaps to make ourselves concrete constructions.
To have a loving family is to feel afraid and yet believe you are going to be all right.
“So who is The Black Flamingo?” asks Katy, with genuine curiosity. I reply, “He is me, who I have been, who I am, who I hope to become. Someone fabulous, wild, and strong. With or without a costume on.”
I Wanna Be Fierce I’ve been friendly. I’ve been frightened. I’ve been fake. But I’ve never been fierce. I’ve been frustrated. I’ve been forgotten. I’ve been forgiving. But I’ve never been fierce. I wanna be fabulous. I wanna be flamboyant. I wanna flaunt what I’ve got. I want to be fierce.
Remember you have the right to be proud. Remember you have the right to be you.
