‘I’m born gay, so I act on it’
I Can’t Date Jesus: Michael Arceneaux’s memoir loosens the chastity belt on queer intimacy, writes Nia Decaille
MICHAEL Arceneaux’s collection of essays, I Can’t Date Jesus, has generated quite the buzz at a time when there have been more first-person essays written by people of colour. But it also comes at a time when few of those stories are being told by queer people.
I Can’t Date Jesus gets personal about being queer, black and Southern during a slow cultural shift in American black churches. Black people still attend religious services at higher rates than other races.
But like Arceneaux, some are looking for answers outside of church pews, even though they’re certain about their belief in God. And the refreshing part? Arceneaux’s unapologetic humour doesn’t mince words on his experiences or backtrack on his unwavering faith in Beyoncé.
I caught up with the Houston native to talk about his new book and his personal touch on identity prose.
I read that you describe yourself as a
“recovering Catholic”. Why is that?
To be blunt, there were many things about religion that just didn’t make sense. I think ultimately knowing that I like boys way more than girls, knowing that those feelings were innate and being told you’re immediately going to hell. And on the other hand, you’re told God doesn’t make mistakes.
Is that where the title of your book I Can’t Date Jesus came from?
The title I Can’t Date Jesus relates to a conversation I had with my mom. I think – and I say this respectfully – religion can take brilliant people and suspend their better senses because faith is so important to them. They don’t want to question anything too much because it could shake everything. But this idea that I’m not supposed to – you know, I’m born gay – but I shouldn’t act on it because it’s some perceived affront to God. So, essentially, I shouldn’t lead a whole life based on the idea that if I die, I might get to go to heaven. So some people, they wait to die to live. I’m not that person. I don’t think God made any mistakes.
So why I Can’t Date Jesus over any other thing you have heard growing up?
I can’t think of anything else that better articulates my overall feeling and the spirit of the book and this the idea that, again, I shouldn’t act on my natural urges because I might go to hell. So, Jesus is wonderful. Jesus can be very helpful to people. Totally get it. Jesus seems like a great dude. However, we are all human beings. We all have urges.
How difficult was that trying to share all of that, the good and bad, in one book?
When it comes to a black queer male narrative, I ask people:
“Name someone you feel is whole, who gets to be funny, who gets to be thoughtful, who gets to be sarcastic the way a lot of white gay men get to be?” And no one ever can… this has been a long road because a lot of people liked me but they didn’t like what I wanted to present. They thought it would be easier for me to kind of lean into the darker parts of my life… But that’s not really my spirit… And I did not want to basically be this sad black gay man for, frankly, white consumption.
What I find interesting about the book was right from the title, you address queer intimacy. Why was that important to you?
A lot of the book is essentially forging your identity through actually having pleasure. As I write about in the book, I had a deep fear and paranoia about sex because I was exposed to it very early and the reality is that as a black person, it’s still very much a crisis within my community. My dating pool is more or less black and Latina people, and those are two communities deeply impacted by the virus. I write about overcoming that and dating (Hiv)-positive men and realising how silly it was even to have that paranoia.
Have you had more religious people reach out? What kind of feedback have you received about the essays?
The overwhelming response has been really generous. There was this idea that because I was black and queer, that I was very niche. But I’ve got feedback from all kinds of people. There’s been an outpouring of people who are absolutely nothing like me and it’s been vindicating and very affirming.
How do you think that black youth are challenging Christian religions?
I think millennials, in general, are probably breaking away for some of the same reasons I have. I just think that typically it’s a very patriarchal, conservative, not completely inclusive setting in many churches – but not necessarily all of them, to be fair. But if you are black in this country, it comes with its own unique set of problems, and while black churches have their issues, I would still say they’re safe spaces. That’s still where a lot of political activism happens… It’s still an integral part of the community. – The Washington Post