Moonlight: The Significance of Black Male Identity & Sexuality
- tiat8012
- Dec 23, 2021
- 4 min read
by Tia Thomas

Moonlight (2016)
Sometimes you stumble upon a remarkable movie that’s both personally and culturally important and really shows what cinema really is capable of: Moonlight directed by Barry Jenkins is one of those movies. Moonlight is really incredible because it really embodies “show don’t tell” and embraces subtlety and strong visual storytelling to get across many powerful themes: coming to an acceptance of one's true identity is crucial to finding long-term happiness, Violence, while it may be momentarily satisfying, rarely solves anything in the long term, and often creates more problems than it solves (as shown in the climax of the movie where Chiron finally stands up to his tormentor only to be incarcerated and become the problematic “thug” persona that is infamous in the black community), and the biggest one (which brings all the broken characters into one circle) being: most people are ultimately simply trying to survive, and many of their most unpleasant actions are responses to social processes, unfortunate circumstances leaving them from few other friends, or other circumstances beyond their control. Poverty, in particular, tends to beget negative behavior as a result of the sheer desperation it causes those who suffer it. Even resorting to drugs and drug-dealing. Moonlight is very appropriately named, for it shines a blinding spotlight onto so many of these various issues that often go ignored or underrepresented in black communities.
Toxic masculinity (as the film shows as being unnecessary violence, drugs, ostracization of anything remotely feminine and emotional, etc.) is a problem that affects boys from a very young age, and that can manifest itself in violent or poisonous ways (the main bully Terrel being a perfect example). When you compound that with the unique experiences of growing up as a person (specifically a man of color) things get even more complicated, and the repercussions can often be more dramatic. For example, in the film, while nursing his wounds in the principal’s office, he finds himself bullied again: “If you were a man, there’d be four other knuckleheads sitting here.” To that, all he can do is cry because, as he chokes out through tears, “You don’t even know.” When he’s finally pushed too far, he makes a decision that sets him on a path towards dealing. The small, quiet boy is no more. The tall, gangly teen is no more. He’s become a negative embodiment of destructive qualities and problematic media exposed to black men: A muscled man with golden grills, a Biggie Smalls crown adorning his dashboard, a black wife-beater, a glistening chain, and a cold, hard demeanor. He’s hiding who he’s truly meant to be, and for me as a viewer, it’s absolutely heart-wretching to watch; watching this wonderful, gentle young boy giving his true identity up to the lifestyle of a stereotypically falsely masculine “thug”. For black men, it’s a stereotype: it’s the thug, the drug pusher, the hardcore rapper, and also one of hyper-masculine ideals. When Chiron showed emotion, he was beaten. When he allowed himself to kiss another boy, that boy eventually briefly betrayed him. When he was victimized, he was seen as less than a man for his inability to stand up for himself, to speak out: even though silence was his protection and part of who he was a person.
“The prevalence of toxic masculinity harms gay Black men by failing to recognize their manhood and humanity. It harms Black teen boys by robbing them of healthy outlets for their pain, goading them into dangerous “manly” flexing over urban territories they don’t own. It harms Black women and girls who are too-frequent victims of men taught to define manliness as power over women’s bodies. (Black women are more likely to experience intimate partner violence and 60 percent of us experience sexual assault before age 18)” (Tamara Winfrey). “It harms Black families by encouraging men to be dominating and emotionally inaccessible partners and fathers. For this reason, we should applaud the existence of Moonlight and all multi-layered, real stories that allow Black men (and women) to be their full and free selves. And we should give no quarter to anyone pimping the broken view of manhood that is killing that freedom—killing us all.” (Tamara Winfrey). For a movie about gay, black men to not only be funded, filmed, and released with a smaller budget, but to also be celebrated for transcending societal norms makes me feel such proudness and happiness! I hope to see more films like Moonlight; films that challenge what we perceive as “normal” or themes we normally don’t touch upon in films because they’re seen as “niche” or “not mainstream”. I want to see more films that aren’t afraid to explore sexuality, gender, identity, and handle it in a way of respect and love, and Moonlight is one of those films that will make young LGBTQ+ people of color (and myself included) feel less alone and finally seen.
Work Cited
Tamara Winfrey HarrisView profile » Tamara Winfrey-Harris is the author of The Sisters Are Alright: Changing the Broken Narrative of Black Women in America. “Shedding (Moon)Light on Toxic Masculinity: The Problem Is Homophobia, Not Gay Characters.” Bitch Media, www.bitchmedia.org/article/shedding-moonlight-toxic-masculinity/problem-homophobia-not-gay-characters.



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