The Revolution Starts in Your Home: Being Still with Mycall Akeem Riley
Words by Felton Kizer
On The Present
So, the main themes surrounding this roll-out are reflecting on the past, staying grounded in the present, and dreaming about the future. I will say that I am really interested in where Mycall Akeem Riley is at this moment. Where are you right now?
We're in a spot we haven't really been in before, historically. I think for so many people, especially queer Black folk, we're used to giving a lot more. And by giving, I mean supporting somebody, going to this thing and going to that thing, and going to this party and being photographed at that thing because someone thought you looked cool.
I'm doing a lot more sitting in being with myself and my own reflections. For me, it’s been a year of me working from home. I'm definitely taking that all in and then reflecting on what this means, really reminiscing and being reflective of this moment and what we've lost. It’s given me the opportunity to be a lot more reflective and thoughtful. I'm really thankful to be here and thankful that you asked me to be in conversation. I’m also thankful to be alive.
Thank you for that. How would you describe, explain, introduce your queer Blackness?
I'm working really hard to not spend a lot of time explaining it to people, because a lot of people aren't going to get it. And it's not really for them to get. The world is inherently anti-Black; the world is inherently anti-queer, hegemonic, and horrible in so many ways. A part of it, for me, is more or less explaining like, this is who I am, this is a part of me. Here's one example of what that looks like: a boundless and infinite iteration of what Blackness and queerness can look like. And you're welcome.
Do your Blackness and queerness look any different during this pandemic?
Yes.
How so?
I think it's really different, because I feel like I'm moving toward this mentality that I want to call out of office in relation to the structural pressure that I feel as though I am constantly met with—in everything from my job title(s) to how people think I should look or what I should wear. I carry a lot of job titles, but folks sometimes make me feel inadequate to hold them all. I feel as though people only want me to do ONE thing, and that’s it—for the rest of my life. And I’m really trying to let go of paying them any attention.
It's disheartening to watch the ways that people really want that. They're like, Well, which one are you first? Like, are you Black? Are you queer? Black people have existed forever, right? People right now are doing new, exciting, and different things, but we've existed and you should be able to perceive and honor Black queer people—because we've been around forever.
We have been, and we're not going anywhere. But I think just navigating this different space has allowed me to not even care as much anymore. I'm interested in caring about other people’s ideas and not their questions about me, because that's not my business.
But it also must feel really liberating to not care?
It does. It feels AMAZING. I would love to transition a bit and speak about the work that you do but, most importantly, the ‘why’ of it all.
Honestly, a lot of it is for me. A lot of the things I get to do are for me. Anytime I get to work with a style client, I'm telling my clients about how to feel empowered or powerful in whatever they have on, even if people tell them they’re not supposed to wear it.
I also think that a lot of the shit that I've been through around my queer identity was really hard and really sad and really isolating. I spent a lot of my youth feeling like I was wrong. I feel like so many queer folks I know, especially queer Black people, hold a lot of that tension and hold a lot of those feelings of contempt for themselves. Because, it's the world that we've been surrounded by. But I also think it's kind of beautiful, though. Like, I have this thing placed on me. I didn’t asked to be born in this queer antagonistic world. That is the card I was dealt with. That is the world I live in. How beautiful is it that the work I get paid to do excites me.
That feels good. That feels fun. It feels like an honor and a privilege.
Thank you for that.
Can I ask you a question about your work in queerness?
Yes, let's do it!
As you grow more into your queerness, and Blackness, you evolve, which means those things change. How do you see that? How have you seen your work evolve? And what do you maybe see on the horizon?
I think the more I evolve into my Blackness and queerness I, in relation to the work that I do, learn more and more about how other folks who navigate the intersection of Black and queer are left out of conversations. Many of us aren’t considered until we’re needed as a prop for a marketing campaign. And that creates a lot of tension for me. Folks don’t always clock my queerness, and I’m often in the room when some of this chaos is happening. I work in a space that is supported by trends and what's hot and what's trendy. You know? Like, what's the NEXT thing? When I was first starting Off-Kilter, I didn't realize how much weight saying that I was creating a publication that was centered around inclusive storytelling held. I was unaware that I was trying to tackle a deeply rooted systemic issue.
I want to go one step further. I think authenticity is oftentimes counter to trendy. I think they’re actually pitted against one another.
They are.
And so, creating not just one magazine, but many magazines, just sounds like a lot to maneuver around.
We’re creating a media company...a media empire—
—that's rooted in authenticity.
And I'm really trying to do it at the root. You have some people who read a few books on dismantling white supremacy and feminism and attend a DEI workshop, and they think it’s done from there. That’s merely the beginning; it’s the summer reading before the course.
On the Future
What do you dream about?
I think when I daydream, I dream of a different world, a better world, spaces that feel like little pockets of clarity and of love. A lot of my physical dreams are oftentimes about unresolved traumas and hiccups and tensions that I haven't dealt with. I love dreaming. I dream of all those things that I envisioned—like, we can get there, or at least a little closer.
Are you happy?
Absolutely. I mean, there's a lot of hardship that happens. I think those who are faint of heart are not those who are Black and queer. But, I'm happy. And also, there are moments when I'm not happy. And I'm learning how to be more comfortable with that.
Are there ever times where you don't think about your Blackness and queerness?
No. Absolutely not. For me, now, it's part of me. Even in growing-up, I've always been queer. I've never been one of the boys. Some of the earliest memories I have of me is me doing something queer. I think about worlds where my queerness means something different, and we're not wrapped up in this hegemonic structure that means hardship. But, I've never not thought about it. And I don't think I know how not to.
Do you always think about your Blackness and queerness?
Nope.
Really. Say more?
A big part relates to my childhood and moving once a year and going to a new school. In always adjusting and molding to new schools, peers and environments, I learned how to set apart and find my space quickly. I didn’t start settling into myself until highschool. That was the first time I stayed at a school longer than a year. But, at that point, I learned to wear so many faces, that I had a hard time figuring out which one felt true to me. Also, I was quiet growing up. No one paid any attention to me, so I was able to float undetected for a long time.
I think going back to the Director of Chaos, that would make sense that you can navigate that so easily if you were changing that often. That change particularly for Black queer people, that's a whole kitten caboodle.
I don't have any final thoughts. Any final questions? Where do you want to leave people?
I hope people continually remember the juxtaposition of You can't beat this and What are you going to change in your sphere, in your space, and in your heart, mind, and soul? The revolution starts in your home—in your body.
What do you want to leave?
I was just gonna say I want to leave people with the truth. And the truth is–I'm just trying to figure it out.