Every June, communities around the world observe Pride Month, an unapologetic celebration of strength and resilience for the LGBT+ community and additionally, in the United States, the month honors Caribbean heritage. While Pride often features parades, parties and events, for some, like young queer Caribbeans Trevonae Williams, Quentin Price and Ananda Welch, the month is about more than merriment, but a time for introspection and self-acceptance, acting as a radical declaration of existence.
“I spent much of my childhood ignoring my queerness because I was socialized to believe I was immoral for my identity,” said Williams, 25, who was born and raised in Jamaica, uses she/they pronouns and identifies as a lesbian, non-binary woman. “Homophobia is unfortunately a cultural norm, almost as much as all the other stuff that Jamaicans take pride in.”
The only sovereign Caribbean nation where same-sex marriage is legal is Cuba. It was officially outlawed in Jamaica in 2011 when Parliament passed an amendment to explicitly deem any union that wasn’t between a man and a woman as invalid.
Same-sex encounters are also outlawed in Jamaica, punishable up to 10 years of imprisonment with hard labor per the country’s Offences Against the Person Act— a piece of legislation that prohibits homicide, assault, rape and other acts the government believes are misdeeds against citizens. To place the potential of two people’s physical attraction to each other within the same caliber as physical harm can put queer Jamaicans in a dangerous situation if they publically share their sexuality.
“I avoided the fullness of my identity for most of my upbringing because the cost, to me, would outweigh my honesty,” Williams told The Informer. “As a teen, being afraid of being disowned, kicked out or publicly shamed was constantly at the back of my mind.”
Support Systems That Shape Self-Acceptance
For 22-year-old Price, a Jamaican-American who identifies as gay, growing up surrounded by those traditional ideals from the Caribbean side of his family made accepting his sexuality difficult.
Growing up in Queens, New York, the borough’s extensive diversity gave Price a broad outlook on what the rest of the world looks like. Still, he was also subject to different forms of homophobia from the various communities surrounding him.
“It definitely made me feel like I had to close off that part of myself where I couldn’t fully embrace and walk in that part of my identity,” Price told The Informer.
Despite the anxiety surrounding his sexuality growing up, Price was able to come out to his close friends in middle school, who offered him love, support and comfort.
When he initially came to terms with his identity and began telling others, Price came out as bisexual, but as years went on and he learned more about himself as he matured, he realized he identified more as gay.
As an adult, he continues becoming more comfortable in his queerness, understanding that he will love whoever loves him, and not letting labels or expectations determine where and how he can extend his love. Price has grown to allow the intimate connection with someone’s soul to guide his attraction, and he is grateful to his long-time friends for their everlasting support.
“Being able to have those conversations early on with my chosen family that I still hold close to this day really made a lasting impact on me as they embraced me for who I was and didn’t make me feel less than,” Price told The Informer. “They’ve been with me through every phase of that journey and have always provided me comfort along the road.”
Similarly, Williams also commends the unwavering support she received from friends for contributing to her path of growth and self-acceptance.
During their freshman year at Howard University, Williams came out to a group of friends, who accepted her proclamation – almost unmoved. Through this interaction, Williams was able to skip past many parts of the inner turmoil many young queer people face, such as self doubt, regret, fear and self-hatred.
“It was a privilege that I’m always grateful for,” Williams told The Informer. “Because of them, I felt less inclined to come out to my Jamaican family because I developed a confidence in my identity that craves familial validation a little less.”
‘Aspects of My Identity That Are Non-Negotiable’
Welch, a 23-year-old bisexual Bajan-American, doesn’t feel the need to come out to the Bajan side of her family because of how taboo a topic homosexuality may be to them.
In Barbados, intimacy between same-sex partners has been legal since 2022, after the High Court condemned its criminalization by Sections 9 and 12 of the Sexual Offences Act. Regardless of this progress, same-sex marriage in the Caribbean country is still banned per the 1979 Marriage Act, which describes marriage as between a man and a woman.
“I feel like that side of my family is a little more hush-hush about it anyway,” Welch told The Informer. “I don’t know that [coming out] would be necessary.”
Welch shared that growing up in Montclair, New Jersey, she felt very comfortable in her sexuality, as queerness was regularly celebrated in her hometown. Because of this, coming out never seemed like a big deal to her to begin with, but when she did tell her friends and some family, she was met with support.
To Welch and many around her, the thought of two people of the same sex falling in love with each other never occurred as something unnatural. Because of this, Welch doesn’t feel the need to go over the top in celebrating during Pride Month, but said she always remains proud.
“I’ve never not been proud of being Caribbean, and I’ve never not been proud of being bisexual,” she told The Informer. “Those aspects of my personality are aspects of my identity that are non-negotiable.”
An unwavering support system can contribute to a young queer person’s sense of self, helping them remain confident in their identity no matter what communities around them may say.
Williams takes the pride that has grown within her in her adulthood and hopes to extend it to others who may be struggling.
“I remind myself to be proud because that’s what me then and me now both deserve,” Williams told The Informer. “And if by being proud of myself, someone else can feel compelled to be the same. That might save a life.”