“I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves or figments of their imagination, indeed, everything and anything except me.” ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
As a black lesbian who also heads Equality Florida, the state LGBT advocacy group, I initially wasn’t going to write about the accusations that our lieutenant governor Jennifer Carroll was caught in her office having sex with a female subordinate.
The tabloid-ready scandal involving a married, mother of three who is an anti-gay conservative naturally piques the imagination of our voyeur culture. But we’ve collectively feasted on right-wing sexual hypocrisy for so long that my care factor was half the size of the Higgs Boson God Particle. In fact, as I scrolled past the story in my email queue, my first reaction was “Oh that’s right. Florida has a lieutenant governor.”
There is no way for Carroll’s story to have a good ending. Either her accuser is using homophobia as a political weapon, or the lieutenant governor is abusing her power with a subordinate, or she is living a huge, sad and complicated lie.
I was content to steer clear of commenting, but then the Lt. governor went on TV and spewed her rebuttal: “Black women who look like me don’t engage in relationships like that.”
I’m not sure what kind of extensive research she has done to come to that conclusion about black lesbians but perhaps she’ll publish her findings.
There are many ways for a person to deny accusations, but Lt. Gov. Carroll reached into her anti-gay bag of tricks and ended up hurling a series of stereotypes about women, lesbians and black people in one fell swoop. The hyper, nervous giggling didn’t help matters.
What did and didn’t happen in her office I’ll leave for others to suss out. But let’s get to the coded language Lt. Gov. Carroll was tossing about and why it has to be challenged.
Saying that women who “look like” her aren’t lesbians renders a whole lot of lesbians invisible. And that invisibility has consequences.
We live in a culture that continues to ignore the lives, needs and health of black lesbians by rendering us invisible. Carroll reinforces that invisibility by perpetuating the misconception that all lesbian and same-gender loving women look and act the same, virtually erasing the diverse array of Black lesbians. And if lesbians look a certain way, Lt. Gov. Carroll, tell us, what do straight black women look like? In putting a fence around what lesbians are supposed to “look like” she corrals acceptable black heterosexual womens’ appearance as well.
And in case you didn’t buy the “just look at me” defense, she adds the motherhood gambit. Because of course we all know that lesbians aren’t mothers.
Oh, the irony. Jacksonville, part of Carroll’s district as a legislator is literally one of the largest concentration of black lesbian mothers in the US according to Census data.
At a time when leading Black and Hispanic civil rights groups are reaching out to embrace LGBT people within their communities, Carroll’s words are particularly off-key.
Surely Carroll, who spent 20 years in the military, and supported “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” understands a world in which gay people try to pass for straight. A world that during her tenure, told lesbians and gay men to hide and lie to protect their livelihood.
So passed all the “wink, wink” phrasing and caricatures of what gay people look like, let me answer your question: Yes Lt. Governor Jennifer Carroll, you do look like a black lesbian. You also look like a bisexual black woman and a heterosexual black woman too. And yes, some Black lesbians are gym coaches and some are models or elected leaders. Some are homeless and some anchor the news. Some are janitors and soldiers and fashion designers or pastors or chemical engineers. We come in all shapes and sizes and political and religious persuasions. Many of us look a lot like you.
You look like a heterosexual married woman wrongly accused of cheating on your husband and abusing her power. You also look just like a closeted woman, trapped by religious and cultural expectations into a world that never let you be you.
Which is your truth? I don’t know. And except for the allegations of abusing your power, it is none of my business. Because Black women are all things I can’t tell just by looking at you.
Perhaps you can find a way to defend your own truth without erasing mine.
Nadine Smith is the founding executive director for Equality Florida, the largest statewide LGBT advocacy group in Florida, and has worked in progressive movements for more than 20 years