Black business can learn from gay entrepreneurs
Black business can learn from gay entrepreneurs
July 3, 2006
BY LAURA WASHINGTON
Copyright by The Chicago Sun-Times
What do British Petroleum, Amalgamated Transit Workers Local 241, the Coca-Cola Co. and the Chicago Police Department all have in common? They were all floating their boats (or floats) in last week's Pride Parade.
How about Judy Baar Topinka, Rod Blagojevich, Helen Shiller, Dawn Clark Netsch, Tom Tunney and 36 other Illinois pols? They all stepped up and politicked along the parade route. It was, as always, quite the spectacle. Three hours, 250 entries, 400,000 partiers and gawkers all added up to one of the biggest confabs ever.
It was so timely, coming on the heels of the Ozzie episode -- our own Ozzie "the mouth that roared" Guillen's recent and idiotic epithet (aka the "other F-word") at Chicago Sun-Times columnist Jay Mariotti. The White Sox manager should concentrate on what he does so well -- winning -- instead of whining about sports reporters. Still, the timing reminds us that despite Ozzie's gaffe, gays, lesbians and transgenders have marched a long, long way.
At a pre-parade reception at the Sidetrack on North Halsted, longtime lesbian activist Charlotte Newfeld tipped me to the origins of what may be a different, though equally vicious, F-word. It's about "firewood," she said.
In medieval times, "faggot" was a term for the kindling that would be used to burn witches at the stake. To do the job right, the populace would gather bundles of "faggot" to keep the blaze going. When the celebrants ran out of wood, some say, they would throw in a few more gays for good measure.
There are plenty of other equally ugly interpretations, but you get the picture. Business, however, is business. Guillen can shoot off his mouth and give Mariotti his PR props, but Guillen's boss, Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf, wants all those paradegoers in his grandstand and in the television viewing audience.
Speaking of money, the gay pride movement is a model for African-American activism.
Indeed, the Pride Parade is an annual showcase of the ferocious flexing of gay economic muscle. It demonstrates the ability of gay leadership to turn a somewhat apolitical constituency into a consequential force.
Art Johnston is an owner of Sidetrack, one of the nation's biggest gay watering holes. Johnston, a major donor to gay causes, says his business community has been a potent force in pushing for rights for their patrons.
It started in the 1970s in gay bars.
"During the period of AIDS, we had to rely on each other because no one else was paying attention," he recalls. Members of the neighborhood's Tavern Guild "stood in [bar] doors with tin cups" and helped raise $200,000 for a community center on North Sheffield.
"There is no question that gay-owned businesses are the critical heart" of funding gay-centered civil rights groups and nonprofits, Johnston said. Groups like Open Hand, which serves AIDS patients, and activist groups like Equality Illinois and ACT-UP were nourished by the largess of gay entrepreneurs, he notes, by "paying the bills and keeping the doors open."
It's a model that should be marketed in America's African diaspora. Black businesses were part of the 1960s civil rights struggles, but they were overshadowed by the preachers and activists. We have a lot to learn from gays. For decades, Chicago's Boys Town has been an engine for civil rights.
Chicago's Bronzeville offers the same promise. Bronzeville, historically the city's epicenter of black cultural, economic and political empowerment, has been to Chicago what Harlem is to New York City. According to a recent report by the U.S. Census Bureau, Chicago is second only to New York when it comes to black business ownership.
Chicago is home to 39,424 African-American-owned firms. After all, it's black-owned businesses who hire black workers. The time is right for Bronzeville to re-emerge as a black mecca.
July 3, 2006
BY LAURA WASHINGTON
Copyright by The Chicago Sun-Times
What do British Petroleum, Amalgamated Transit Workers Local 241, the Coca-Cola Co. and the Chicago Police Department all have in common? They were all floating their boats (or floats) in last week's Pride Parade.
How about Judy Baar Topinka, Rod Blagojevich, Helen Shiller, Dawn Clark Netsch, Tom Tunney and 36 other Illinois pols? They all stepped up and politicked along the parade route. It was, as always, quite the spectacle. Three hours, 250 entries, 400,000 partiers and gawkers all added up to one of the biggest confabs ever.
It was so timely, coming on the heels of the Ozzie episode -- our own Ozzie "the mouth that roared" Guillen's recent and idiotic epithet (aka the "other F-word") at Chicago Sun-Times columnist Jay Mariotti. The White Sox manager should concentrate on what he does so well -- winning -- instead of whining about sports reporters. Still, the timing reminds us that despite Ozzie's gaffe, gays, lesbians and transgenders have marched a long, long way.
At a pre-parade reception at the Sidetrack on North Halsted, longtime lesbian activist Charlotte Newfeld tipped me to the origins of what may be a different, though equally vicious, F-word. It's about "firewood," she said.
In medieval times, "faggot" was a term for the kindling that would be used to burn witches at the stake. To do the job right, the populace would gather bundles of "faggot" to keep the blaze going. When the celebrants ran out of wood, some say, they would throw in a few more gays for good measure.
There are plenty of other equally ugly interpretations, but you get the picture. Business, however, is business. Guillen can shoot off his mouth and give Mariotti his PR props, but Guillen's boss, Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf, wants all those paradegoers in his grandstand and in the television viewing audience.
Speaking of money, the gay pride movement is a model for African-American activism.
Indeed, the Pride Parade is an annual showcase of the ferocious flexing of gay economic muscle. It demonstrates the ability of gay leadership to turn a somewhat apolitical constituency into a consequential force.
Art Johnston is an owner of Sidetrack, one of the nation's biggest gay watering holes. Johnston, a major donor to gay causes, says his business community has been a potent force in pushing for rights for their patrons.
It started in the 1970s in gay bars.
"During the period of AIDS, we had to rely on each other because no one else was paying attention," he recalls. Members of the neighborhood's Tavern Guild "stood in [bar] doors with tin cups" and helped raise $200,000 for a community center on North Sheffield.
"There is no question that gay-owned businesses are the critical heart" of funding gay-centered civil rights groups and nonprofits, Johnston said. Groups like Open Hand, which serves AIDS patients, and activist groups like Equality Illinois and ACT-UP were nourished by the largess of gay entrepreneurs, he notes, by "paying the bills and keeping the doors open."
It's a model that should be marketed in America's African diaspora. Black businesses were part of the 1960s civil rights struggles, but they were overshadowed by the preachers and activists. We have a lot to learn from gays. For decades, Chicago's Boys Town has been an engine for civil rights.
Chicago's Bronzeville offers the same promise. Bronzeville, historically the city's epicenter of black cultural, economic and political empowerment, has been to Chicago what Harlem is to New York City. According to a recent report by the U.S. Census Bureau, Chicago is second only to New York when it comes to black business ownership.
Chicago is home to 39,424 African-American-owned firms. After all, it's black-owned businesses who hire black workers. The time is right for Bronzeville to re-emerge as a black mecca.
posted by Carlos T Mock at 9:15 AM
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