How Black Culture Birthed the First Gay Anthem

Not what you’d expect, right?

Isn’t the common wisdom (common, yes; wisdom, no) that African Americans are more homophobic than the rest of American society? And aren’t Black churches infamous repositories of anti-gay bigotry (in spite of the unacknowledged presence of many closeted queers)? So how did this famously unfriendly subculture produce “I Was Born This Way” in 1975? The butterfly hatched from a Black chrysalis, make no mistake.

In 1971, a straight Black Christian wife and mother, Bunny Jones, wrote the following lyrics to a song which had no music, no performer, no recording studio, and, one would think, no chance.

I'm walking through life in nature’s disguise.

You laugh at me and you criticize

Just because I’m happy, I’m carefree

And I’m GAY. Yes I’m GAY.

T'Aint a fault; ‘tis a fact.

I was born this way.

Why? Because as the owner of several Harlem beauty salons, some of her employees were . . . GAY! She got to know their stories and “I began to feel that gays are more suppressed than blacks, Chicanos or other minorities. You hear of great designers or famous hairdressers, and that’s about as far as society will let gays go.”

Bunny was determined. The lyrics lay fallow for four years. Then, during a casual conversation with an aquarium designer and ex-musician, Chris Spierer, she asked if this straight white guy would be interested in writing the music for “I Was Born This Way.” Of course he said yes. Now the lyrics had music. All she needed was a performer who would sing “And I’m GAY. Yes I’m Gay” before God and everybody. A tall order for 1975. However, she plucked a Black singer/dancer out of a successful revival of Hair on Long Island, Valentino, and … the Lord be praised . . . he was GAY!

It was all perfect, except Bunny didn’t have a label or distribution. Mere quibbles. She founded the first recording studio, slyly titled Gaiee Records, owned and operated by a Black woman in America. Over time, Bunny sold 15,000 records, mostly out the trunk of her car. Somehow word got to Motown founder Berry Gordy about this crazy one-woman crusade, and he signed her to a distribution deal. The song did well in the New York city underground and became a #1 dance hit in London, but Motown didn’t put much effort or money into promotion. It should have died a quiet death.

Motown wasn’t through with the song yet. Though it would be a stretch to claim any sort of gay liberation agenda, Motown wasn't as homophobic as other major recording labels, and, as disco, an unabashedly gay genre, was exploding everywhere, why not make a buck with a property they already owned? Being a Black label, Motown figured that injecting some spirit into the song would goose its energy level. One exec there recommended Carl Bean, a singer who had been signed under the Gospel division at ABC. And—God is Good!—he was GAY!

Bean had grown up in a socially progressive Baltimore church and had experienced little homophobia until he was outed as a teen, making him a pariah in his family and community. Gospel singing offered him a way out (straight boys who could sing went into doo-wop) but when he started touring, he heard all the fire-and-brimstone preachers rail against the sin of sodomy, all the while trying to bed members of the choir passing through. Gospel got him a recording contract with ABC in Los Angeles, but he realized he wanted to make “message” music (like Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On”) and requested that the label release him. That was when Gordy contacted him and asked if he’d record for Motown. Bean thought it was a joke and hung up.

Motown called back and shared the song they wanted him to re-record. He couldn't believe a major label wanted him to sing this positive affirmation of gay identity. If this wasn’t proof of God’s acceptance, what was? His 1977 version features not only his gospel-trained powerhouse vocals but the then-dominant disco arrangement: a four-on-the-floor beat in the drums and bass amped by a slick orchestral accompaniment.

Motown didn’t push the song beyond disco venues, but Bean’s version proved a reliable hit on the dance floor and a touchstone of gay culture. Its significance outweighed its sales. Bean was a gospel singer who had come out, and the song's unapologetic message arrived years before gay visibility was common.

Wishing to give the song the best possible launch into the gay community, the Motown execs planned to have Bean premiere a live performance at Studio One, the definitive West Hollywood mega-club of the era. No, Bean said. He’d sing the premiere at Jewel’s Catch One, one of the largest (and perhaps only) Black-owned dance bars in the country.

This is the part of the story that is downplayed or overlooked. “I Was Born This Way” rolled out of a unique confluence of Black cultures: Harlem hair salons, an entrepreneurial woman, gospel music, Motown, DISCO! The only white element – and not the strongest – in this cultural petri dish was Chris Spierer’s music.

Bean followed his convictions, both as Black and queer, probably to the detriment of his musical career. He refused to sing heterosexual love songs and told Motown he wouldn’t return to the closet. He continued to follow a religious calling, enrolling in the seminary of the gay-created Metropolitan Community Church to study for the ministry.

The Call was confirmed when AIDS scythed its way through increasingly large numbers of gay men. Bean spoke publicly about the epidemic in Black communities and about the stigma associated with the disease in Black churches. When afflicted Black Christians no longer wanted to attend their traditional churches because the disease was visible in their appearance, Bean founded the Unity Fellowship Church, a Black-led denomination that affirmed lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender folk. Eventually becoming an archbishop, Bean did heroic work in the Black community until his death in 2021.

So once again, an important contribution to queer history with deep and unmistakable African American roots is dismissed, ignored, or unknown. At least Lady Gaga didn’t hide the fact that Bean’s song inspired her monster 2011 hit, “Born This Way.” (Different song; not a cover.) She said as much at her album's 10-year anniversary and christened her baby daughter, born last June, Rose Bean Polansky.

— Dr. Robert Philipson

Read more about Dr. Robert Philipson's personal connection to this foray in Disco Almost Passes Me By.

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