Peterson Toscano's A Musing

The low-carb craze proceeds relentlessly in the US. Now every store sells low-carb pasta, reduced carb non-dairy creamer and of course nearly carbless bread. I’ve tried the low-carb bread with its extra chewy, spongy consistency. It’s a lot like the real stuff but not quite. It looks and smells like the bread I’ve devoured since youth, but after three slices—dressed up with almond butter and apricot jam or faux turkey and soy cheese, it still does not satisfy, does not provide that starchy comfort, that real food feeling I crave. It’s nothing new though; I’m used to this feeling of dissatisfaction. I’ve consumed low-carb Jesus all my life. I don’t mean those bone-dry wafers the priest adhered to my tongue during my Catholic youth. (I couldn’t even wash down those woodchip-like hosts with wine since the cup was reserved for the sole use of Father Justin and his altar thugs.) No, Jesus with reduced carbs is not just a Catholic offering. This low-carb Jesus transce...

Her father sexually abused her relentlessly. He referred to queer people as "those goddamn faggots!" He cursed her for being lesbian. He died in bitterness and alcoholism. Regina never liked him. But Regina's mother sat her down this past November to set the story straight. "Regina, when you told me you were a lesbian, you may have wondered how I took it all so well," her mother began then dropped the bomb. "Your father liked men." Seems all his homophobia was aimed right at himself as part of his own self-loathing. He never hated Regina because she was lesbian; he hated himself. In spite of the mess she was given, Regina speaks of hope and healing and love. Regina: "If we are not real, it will kill us and we will take other people with us." Regina: "I want to expand the meaning of the phrase, 'My People.'" Regina wants to include more than just other African-American Lesbian Women in ...

Human We want so much to be OKAY, but part of being human beings is being desperately Unwell. Part of being human is emptiness is confusion Part of being human feels disconnected. Being human in the modern world, We want to be fixed, To be whole, To spackle over the flaws and gashes, To facelift it, tuck it, liposuck it. but we war not against flesh and blood We have to live with it. Although it feels like stacks of jagged bricks Cascading on my head, pummeling my body, Bloodying me…it will pass. Yes, The pain will lessen, will dull. These shadows have become part of what makes me Beautiful, Noble, Authentic. Some wounds do not heal Or if they do, they leave behind their Beauty Marks, gnarling our souls, making us human to each other

The Bible speaks of a blessing or a curse that can be passed down from one or both parents. Parents have the power to bestow a blessing on their children. Many give this blessing passively through their example and personal success. The good things they have they share with their children. Most powerfully, they speak words of affirmation to a child; these words give life. Similarly parents possess the power to invoke a curse that mars the life-path of a child, not always permanently, but the curse leaves the way cluttered with doubt and low self-esteem suffered by the cursed child. I've seen this so clearly in the queer community. Many folks who become well adjusted in their sexuality and personality received the blessing from their parents. Even if there was an initial difficulty on the part of the parents to accept a gay, lesbian, transgendered child, once folks come on board and embrace their child, queerness and all, it results in blessing, confidence, health. Similar...

His bright, sunny smile could easily beam over South Beach or P-Town's glamor throngs, but he shines his light in the Mid-West, snuggly set in the buckle of the Bible Belt. Fearlessly but never recklessly he speaks truth to power, shoots straight to the top to undo a wrong. He is a founder, a builder, a funder, a worker tending to the fruits, yes the fruity fruits, amongst him. He feeds them, organizes them, provides social activities for them, raises money for them, takes them in not realizing that he is entertaining angels unaware, these queer folk, he makes them family. Yet he never trudges, he strolls with a grace and elegance that he draps over all he touches. Even when his own body seems to war against him, and medication jazzes or drags him through the day, his effervescence saves each day and propels him to make the world a better and much more beautiful place. (note: Tim G. founded Openarms Youth P...

At a conference I appeared at Saturday in Ypsilanti, MI, I met Rev. John S. A commanding presence with a quick, broad wit, he presented during the opening session and spoke about race, queer issues and the church. Love the LOCKS! His dreadlocks, full and long, took many years to grow. From listening to him and then connecting with him after the conference, I was taken by his journey with its unique twists and turns. Solid man. Man of vision. Man of love. Hi is a bisexual, Black, Christian minister who oversees a residence for those suffering with HIV. He is a teacher. He is a preacher. He is a father and husband. and I can tell you right now... He will be a dear friend.

Yes, I am a virgin. A blog virgin. I feel a tremor of anxiety and anticipation as I reveal my first tender thoughts to you on this screen. Will I know what to do? Will I seem too eager? Will I disappoint you? Gentle reader this is my first time; please, go easy on me. After months of ruminating, "To blog or not to blog," (that was the question) I have chosen to go all the way with you. As I stand here before you, naked, (okay, not really naked, and I'm actually sitting down,) I lay back on my pillowed bed, force myself to relax and open wide my...alright, this is getting too weird. Hey, I'm here, I'm Queer (in so many ways) and I'm about to explode on the screen. Look out! (This might get messy) ;-)