The News Journal (Wilmington, DE) Why blacks are silent by Betty Winston Baye (Betty Winston Baye is a columnist for The Louisville Courier-Journal, 525 W. Broadway, Louisville, KY 40202) Michelle Johnson was terrified. "it was like standing up in front of my parents; standing up in front of my family." Tom Morgan didn't expect a crowd early on a Saturday. "We had to order more chairs twice," he says. The issue was black gay people. Never in the National Association of Black Journalists' 18-year history had it 2,000 or so members openly broached the subject of the gays among us. And that's true even though in 1989, NABJ members elected Tom Morgan, of the New York Times, our president. Other than nasty slurs during the campaign, Tom's homosexuality rarely was discussed. One reason is that black people in general are ambivalent toward the so-called gay-rights agenda. Right or wrong, many black people fear that the push for gay rights distracts from the struggle against racism. Although some at the convention probably knew that Michelle is a lesbian, most did not. She doesn't wear a big L on her forehead. "I had such anxiety," she said, describing how she felt last month when she essentially "came out of the closet." "But why?" "We can be tough on our own. You step outside the line and somebody whacks you upside your head. It's the tradition," Michelle saig. She didn't get whacked. But traditionally, black people generally haven't discussed homosexuality--and would appreciate it if black gay people didn't talk about it either. Our silence persists even though gay people are deeply woven into the fabric of our lives. It's an open secret that many of our black heroes and heroines were and are gay. But most also have kept silent, allowing themselves and us to focus exclusibley on their achievements. "They keep silent for the sake of the race," Tom said. "But for how long?" Forever, I imagine many black people would say. For one thing, Christianity is deeply embedded in the African-American experience. For another, on the agenda of collective black suffering, many black people, maybe most, simply do not perceive gay rights as deserving to rank as high up as racism, poverty, illiteracy, crime and some of the other issues black people struggle with now, as opposed to later. So former NABJ President and Chicago Sun-Times columnist Vernon Jarrett was speaking for many black people when he said he deeply resents gay activists, whether they're black or white, appropriating the language of the civil rights movement to make the case that homosexuals are as oppressed as black people are. He was heckled and booed, but Vernon didn't hold his tongue. Many others did. Indeed, it was more than ironic that black journalists, many of whom are outspoken on practically everything on NABJ's agenda, feared expressing an honest opinion lest we be perceived ignorant or, worse than that, homophobic. In the same way, white people often approach matters of race, fearing the brand of racist. I believe many were silent because they appreciated the seemingly inherent contradiction for black people to be publically seen, even tacitly, as condoning the oppression of any minority group. The speakers at the NABJ forum talked about the gay-bashing that goes on, and, they said, many of the victims have been black. During the forum, I saw tears. I sensed in some people a longing for understanding. I also saw pain etched into the faces of a few journalists I've come to know over the years. I realized that I hadn't noticed that pain before. I realized that I hadn't looked for it, and that perhaps I had never made my friends feel comfortable enough to know that if they wished, they could have told me that they were gay. And their pain continues to haunt. Hence this column. Hence my calling Tom and Michelle to ask the obvious: What is it that gay and Lesbian journalists want from NABJ, and what is it that they want from me? "I wanat NABJ members to just recognize the commonalities between the struggle for gay rights and black rights," Michelle said. "they are not exactly the same, but there are some common themes." One commonality, she said, is workplace discrimination. Tom doesn't ever expect NABJ or all people to embrace the gay agenda. Nontheless, he said, straight black journalists must avail themselves of information. They must, in fact, be educated about a part of black life that most of us know little about, he added. The tables have turned. Now it's non-gay black journalists who must be educated, much in the way we have sought to educate our white media colleagues about the broader African-American experience.