Gay in a Black Family


By Erma BreAnn

As family reunion season begins to wind down, I can’t help but reminisce. The passing down ancestors stories and seeing family who’ve moved far away always touches my spirit. I can feel the heat of the south and the smell of the fish fry. My grandmother's hands in mine as we dance and I sink into a hole of memories. It’s my favorite season and yet the season of my greatest anxiety. 

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