This Pride Month, Native Son reminds us that joy is a form of protest

With stars like Colman Domingo, Cynthia Erivo, and more, the 2025 Native Son Awards affirmed the joy, power, and pride

This Pride Month, Native Son reminds us that joy is a form of protest

With stars like Colman Domingo, Cynthia Erivo, and more, the 2025 Native Son Awards affirmed the joy, power, and pride of the LGBTQ+ community.

The 2025 Native Son Awards were a radiant reminder that no system can strip away the joy, strength, and power of the Black LGBTQ+ community. This month, Native Son, a nonprofit organization advocating for Black queer men, gathered the community in New York City to celebrate Pride Month and honor the brilliance of visionaries like Colman Domingo, Tony and Emmy-winning designer Paul Tazewell, celebrity choreographer Sean Bankhead, and more.

But beyond the accolades and applause, there was a deeper current running through the room. The evening shed light on the growing urgency to protect the community organizations built to preserve and support the spaces where Black LGBTQ+ lives are affirmed and celebrated.

“It is a scary time in America. The dismantling of civil rights, institutions of history and learning, and our democracy threaten our equality, inclusion, and existence — especially for Black, immigrant, LGBTQ, women, and other minority groups,” Emil Wilbekin, founder of Native Son, told theGrio  “We need to pay attention, wake up, and work collectively to create change the way Bayard Rustin did with the March on Washington. As so many freedom fighters have said, none of us is free until we all are free.” 

That duality, both fight and freedom, was woven into every moment of the evening. It felt like a love letter to the community: one part celebration, one part call to action.

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Emil Wilbekin, founder of Native Son (Photo courtesy of Native Son)

“Just as much as we need fuel to fight in the streets and advocate for what’s right, we also need people to throw the parties, to love on people, and to bring the sunshine. We need it all,” Domingo shared. 

And indeed, the room glowed with the warmth of that sunshine. Just as Durand Bernarr lit up the stage with his soulful performance, community leaders like Don Lemon—who hosted the evening—along with honorees Phill Wilson, the internationally recognized HIV/AIDS advocate and founder of the Black AIDS Institute, and Dr. David J. Johns, CEO and Executive Director of the National Black Justice Coalition (NBJC), sparked something deeper. Together, they ignited a flame of advocacy and hope that moved through the room (well, at least, they did for me). 

“There was a time when most of the people in this room would not dare have even the courage to be out and be at an event like this,” Lemon reflected. “Everything is temporary. We have made progress. Progress is not linear. It’s not straight up. Sometimes it’s jagged; it’s up and down like steps, but it continues to move forward. So this is temporary. When this administration is gone, we’re going to be okay.”

Dr. Johns followed that sentiment with grounded wisdom: “We win when we reclaim African ways of being; when we remember that we have always had every resource that we need in order not just to survive–Black people have a patent on survival–but to thrive like we have all of that. We know how to do this thing called existing under insurmountable conditions, and I don’t want us to be consumed or suffocated by the conditions caused by a current occupant or any other people who are hoarding power. None of that matters. The power that we have as people manifests in community.”

And that’s precisely what Native Son was created for.

Founded in 2016, Wilbekin says Native Son’s inception was rooted in a desire for community. Since then, it has grown to be a global platform created to inspire and empower Black gay/queer men. 

“Native Son was created as an intervention for myself. I wanted to be in community with other Black gay men — to share experiences about being the only one at work, living with HIV, wanting to be in a relationship,” the organization’s founder shared. “It was also about creating community with like-minded Black gay men so we didn’t have to be alone in our existence in this world that often times marginalizes us, dismisses us, and ignores our tremendous contributions to art, culture, literature, politics, activism, and fashion.”

The organization’s name pays homage to James Baldwin—its spiritual muse and North Star. Inspired by Baldwin’s “Notes of a Native Son,” Native Son honors Baldwin’s legacy of telling the truth, no matter how uncomfortable.

“Baldwin is considered our North Star, our icon. It feels even more poignant to have Black as the movement, community, and platform’s namesake in today’s dark political climate. Baldwin spoke truth to power during the Civil Rights Movement and wasn’t afraid to challenge the status quo. His life and legacy serve as inspiration and a blueprint for us today,” Wilbekin continued. 

And in today’s climate, that blueprint is more vital than ever. As anti-LGBTQ+ legislation gains traction and programs like Medicaid face unprecedented threats, the stakes are exceptionally high for Black queer and trans communities, many of whom already live on the margins.

Part of weathering this storm is facing the reality that Black communites, especially Black gay and queer communties have to save themselves. One of the most poignant realities was the reality of how the current administration’s policy changes have left people like Wilbelkin who are living with HIV with the support of certain medications, concerned about their own existance as those with insurance are now faced with maxed-out co-pay assistance and those without private insurance face the risk of programs like Medicaid being stripped from them. 

The message was clear: no one is coming to save us but us. But in that truth, there’s also tremendous power.

As we consider the ripple effects of these political decisions, we must also look inward and ask what it means to stand in solidarity with our Black queer siblings. It’s not just about Pride parades and hashtags. It’s about showing up, speaking out, and supporting organizations like Native Son that serve as lifelines.

Black queer and trans communities have long been asked to save themselves. And still, they do. But they shouldn’t have to do it alone.

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