“The axe soon forgets, but the tree always remembers”- Someone
In Marlon Riggs’ Tongues Untied, there is a moment where he sits in one place, surrounded by a blackness blacker than himself; a reminder of what the color black actually looks like and how uncertain and scared it makes me feel. But it is not Riggs’ affective commentary on blackness that intrigues me the most right now…It’s the solemn but pained way that he sits still while he remembers his family at the dinner table, and how they have ostracized him from their physical and metaphorical table. I’m not queer, and I’m not a black man either, but I’ve had experiences where my family has asked me to erase parts of myself I’d rather keep.
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