All Boys Aren't Blue

“My family provided the kind of upbringing and support system anyone would hope their children would have. The type of care, wealth, and love that should prevent a child from ever having to experience trauma or the same struggles that affected previous generations. Unfortunately, my life story is proof that no amount of money, love, or support can protect you from a society intent on killing you for your Blackness. Any community that has been taught that anyone not ‘straight’ is dangerous, is in itself a danger to LGBTQIAP+ people.”

Johnson emphasizes that their upbringing was ideal to highlight the extent to which systemic oppression shapes the lives of marginalized people. Even with the perfect upbringing, care, and family wealth, Johnson still became traumatized for being Black and queer, which they blame on the society that views queer people as dangerous.

“I had agency—the power to control my narrative—and this was a moment where I was choosing to do what I felt was best for me, no questions asked.”

This quote about Johnson’s decision to use their middle name marks the first time Johnson feels they have control over their life. Even then, it comes with stipulations, like knowing that they wouldn’t have so much freedom if they wanted to have a girl’s name. However, even a small amount of control over their own life and expression is incredibly important given the lack agency they generally experience as a queer person.

“Terms like shade and yaaassss that we so often hear used in television or on social media—especially by those not from the LGBTQIAP+ community—have become common in pop culture. Lingo that children like me were ostracized for using. Lingo that queer children today still get ostracized for using. And yet straight people use it out of context safely.”

Johnson examines the appropriation of queer slang and African American Vernacular English (AAVE) by people outside of those groups. These two groups meet in the category of “Black femmes,” which Johnson discusses and which is especially vulnerable to this appropriation. For example, the mostly non-queer and non-Black audience of popular shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race can safely use the language that Johnson is forced to stop using at school. This is an example of the hostility society directs at Black queer people.

“But later that night, I realized the only place that was truly safe for me would be in my imagination. My ability to be a kid came at the expense of my gender identity.”

Johnson begins to isolate when they realize they’ll be punished for not acting like a boy is “supposed to”—that is, like somebody who is a cisgender and heterosexual man. This marks the point where Johnson begins to frequently daydream about being a girl named Dominique. As Dominique, their feminine behavior and mannerisms would not expose them to punishment.

“It was me jumping in between personas: the person I wanted to be on the inside versus the person society told me I had to be on the outside.”

Jump rope gives Johnson a way of expressing their internal feelings and frustrations in a public activity. It’s also a way to express their gender by participating in a girl-oriented activity where they can be as feminine as they want with no harassment.

“Symbolism gives folks hope. But I’ve come to learn that symbolism is a threat to actual change—it’s a chance for those in power to say, ‘Look how far you have come’ rather than admitting, ‘Look how long we’ve stopped you from getting here.’”

Johnson takes two concepts often viewed as connected—progressive symbolism and change—and contrasts them with one another. For Johnson, representation matters: It’s the whole reason they’ve written their memoir for a younger generation. However, representation isn’t where change happens. Johnson asserts in this quote that action and desire to change have to accompany symbols of progress.

“Consider recent American history: After the integration of public swimming pools, pools were filled with cement or simply closed in predominantly Black areas. This prevented Black families and their children from learning to swim. That is the type of social pathology that runs through us. Find a flaw, deficit, or disadvantage in our community, and I can find a system that oppressed us and made it that way.”

This quote is an example of Johnson putting critical race theory into practice. Black people face stereotypes about being unable to swim. Johnson takes these stereotypes and links them to institutional inequalities. Critical race theory refutes the other alternative, which is the racist assumption that something innate and biological hampers Black people’s ability to swim.

“You are living proof that it really isn’t as hard as most think to get along with and enjoy the company of people from different sexual identities.”

Throughout the memoir, Johnson provides multiple examples of cishet friends and family that love them and accept them in ways that society tells us are impossible. These relationships illustrate Johnson’s point that hate is taught, not innate.

“I was becoming isolated around the age of ten, and she saw it. As hard as I tried to suppress my queer identity and fit in, I just didn’t. I had friends, but not how my cousins and brothers had friends.”

Johnson shows readers that repression (or masking, as they call it in Chapter 1) never works in the long term. A queer person cannot ultimately be happy or fit in while lying to themself. Nanny can sense something is different with Johnson, as can all of Johnson’s peers that they cannot fit in with. Nanny steps in to save her grandchild and forever changes their life by making sure they don’t spiral into total isolation.

“It’s unfortunate that we lost out on so much time. Had we been brave enough to talk to each other about what we were both feeling, we might’ve learned how we were much more alike than we knew.”

Missed connections with other queer people are a motif within the memoir. G.G. and Zamis are examples. Johnson could have potentially had a robust support network of other queer people growing up, but because they each felt compelled to lie and cover up, each of them grew up isolated and assuming they were alone.

“There is truly something to be said about the fact that you sometimes can’t see yourself if you can’t see other people like you existing, thriving, working. I can only imagine the courage it took for you to be yourself. Even though you had a safe home to go to, the world was not a safe place for people like you.”

This quote shows just how important role models, stories, and the language people use to describe themselves can be. Johnson struggles with understanding their feelings and articulating them until they see Hope living authentically. Johnson’s world shifts dramatically because of Hope, and they no longer feel as if they’re the only different person that exists.

“But because of you, I knew that I existed.”

Johnson uses exaggeration here to reinforce the importance of queer community and role models. By exaggerating, Johnson shows how crucial it is for a queer child to know they aren’t alone; otherwise, they can feel as if they don’t exist. This is something that cishet people don’t struggle with as cishet people.

“That day would also be the first day that I ever had to feed you. In that moment, it was bittersweet. But now looking back, it was just beautiful. To be able to take care of the woman who had done so much for me throughout my life.”

Mutual responsibility is an important aspect of Johnson’s family. The ability to care for their mother like their mother took care of them is a beautiful act of family bonding for Johnson. This concept of shared responsibility of caring for one another is evident in all of their relationships with family and their line brothers.

“Your saving me will allow me, my words, and our story to save others, because at the end of the day, this is all about storytelling.”

If everything is storytelling, those who lack the right language to accurately describe their feelings and thoughts in some sense don’t exist. Nanny saving Johnson allows them to tell stories to save others. Their cousin Hope taught them they existed, and Nanny gave them the ability to live and tell their story.

“Think. The same masculinity and manhood ideology that forced you and me to hide our identities is the same masculinity and manhood ideology that got you killed.”

Johnson refers in this quote to what some other authors might call “toxic masculinity.” The masculinity that killed their cousin is the same that rewards men for being anti-gay and expressing those feelings loudly. Johnson’s quest to find masculinity through the fraternity contrasts with this kind of masculinity.

“Love who you want to love and do it unapologetically, including that face you see every day in the mirror. I deserved that kind of love. Zae deserved that kind of love. We deserved that kind of love. We should have been prom kings.”

Zamis, Johnson’s first crush, is also a missed opportunity for queer community because they both had to hide their feelings. In an ideal world, they would have been prom kings together. This quote highlights how different things could be for queer people if they weren’t conditioned to hide who they are.

“As much as I wanted to lead an openly gay life, I also didn’t want to be a disappointment. Even from the little bit of knowledge I had from the treatment of gays in media, to my own experience, I knew being gay was not something to be celebrated.”

An adult now free and away at college, Johnson is still unable to come to terms with their queerness and live out of the closet. An important factor in this is the portrayal of LGBTQ+ people in the media. Especially when Johnson was growing up, depictions of LGBTQ+ people in popular media were often very degrading and existed for the purpose of making harmful jokes. Representation carries weight, and this anti-LGBTQ+ representation was one factor that kept Johnson in the closet.

“I wanted to have the friendships and the good grades and the parties, but as a gay person. Not as this guy who was petrified of having sex out of fear that someone would find out. I was depressed without even knowing what depression was.”

This passage illustrates the dire consequences of forcing queer people to stay in the closet. Johnson ends up deeply depressed and performs poorly in college because of this, despite their track record of academic success.

“We were all practicing at my apartment one night when I had an older brother contact me and, of course, pull that same question I had gotten my whole life. He was on speakerphone when he shouted, ‘I heard you were a gay. We don’t allow that f***** shit in our chapter.’ My first response was, ‘I’m not gay, big brother, and I understand.’ He hung up the phone.”

Even when joining the fraternity, Johnson cannot escape people digging at them for their orientation. Although Johnson lies on this phone call, their line brothers sense Johnson’s turmoil and all eight of them come to comfort Johnson. This is the first time in the memoir that anybody comforts Johnson when he is dealing with the pain inflicted by bigotry.

“I didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t make me. I did, however, get up to make a phone call to one of my line brothers. I left him a voicemail saying that I had finally had sex.”

Johnson’s ability to proudly proclaim losing their virginity to a line brother is significant. Not too long before, they were unable to tell a soul about their orientation. Which line brother it is isn’t important, implying that Johnson feels comfortable with all of them knowing.

“We suppress who we are during those early formative years when we should be learning and growing beside our straight peers, and within the safety and support of our families. The heteronormative systems in our society literally have the power to change the trajectory of our lives.”

Johnson expresses a frustration common among queer people: that they lag behind cishet peers because they figure out who they are much later in life. For Johnson, this is largely due to the silence on queer topics, the lack of queer representation, and the inadequacies of sex education.

“It was my first experience of being myself with the very people society kept telling me would never accept me. The people in my own community I was conditioned to fear could see past my identity. Kenny was only nineteen at the time. And for a person of that age during that time, from the hood, who grew up to not have ANY issue with my sexuality? That was a miracle in my life.”

Kenny is the first non-family member to accept Johnson and the prime example of somebody who, despite growing up in an anti-gay environment, doesn’t hate queer people. Kenny’s acceptance of Johnson is simultaneously a small exchange and something large enough for Johnson to describe as a miracle.

“Time waits for no one, and for Black queer people, there are too many trying to steal the little bit of time we have. So, live your life.”

The high mortality rate among Black people is prevalent throughout the memoir. Hope, Thomas, and Kenny all die very young—Hope and Thomas because they are queer. Johnson’s message to live life is both for Black queer people themselves and for those around them, whose lives will be improved by seeing them live authentically.