In this poignant and urgent love letter to his son, award-winning Broadway, TV and film producer Richie Jackson reflects on his experiences as a gay man in America and the progress and setbacks of the LGBTQ community over the last 50 years.
“My son is kind, responsible, and hardworking. He is ready for college. He is not ready to be a gay man living in America.”
When Jackson's 18-year-old son born through surrogacy came out to him, the successful producer, now in his 50s, was compelled to reflect on his experiences and share his wisdom on life for LGBTQ Americans over the past half-century.
Gay Like Me is a celebration of gay identity and parenting, and a powerful warning for his son, other gay men and the world. Jackson looks back at his own journey as a gay man coming of age through decades of political and cultural turmoil.
Jackson's son lives in a seemingly more liberated America, and Jackson beautifully lays out how far we’ve come since Stonewall -- the increased visibility of gay people in society, the legal right to marry, and the existence of a drug to prevent HIV. But bigotry is on the rise, ignited by a president who has declared war on the gay community and fanned the flames of homophobia. A newly constituted Supreme Court with a conservative tilt is poised to overturn equality laws and set the clock back decades. Being gay is a gift, Jackson writes, but with their gains in jeopardy the gay community must not be complacent.
As Ta-Nehisi Coates awakened us to the continued pervasiveness of racism in America in Between the World and Me, Jackson’s rallying cry in Gay Like Me is an eye-opening indictment to straight-lash in America. This book is an intimate, personal exploration of our uncertain times and most troubling questions and profound concerns about issues as fundamental as dignity, equality, and justice.
Gay Like Me is a blueprint for our time that bridges the knowledge gap of what it’s like to be gay in America. This is a cultural manifesto that will stand the test of time. Angry, proud, fierce, tender, it is powerful letter of love from a father to a son that holds lasting insight for us all.
The naiveté it takes to use a W.E.B. DuBois quote about the black experience, in order to describe the [white] gay experience, while failing to talk even once about white privilege in the LGBT community is upsetting. In fact, Richie Jackson's "Gay Like Me" left me wondering: if a gay father is writing a letter about "being gay" to his gay son in 2020, is it irresponsible to remain silent on the ways in which white gays have gained numerous privileges while their trans and PoC siblings have not?
Written as a long form letter to his college-aged gay son, "Gay Like Me" is a memoir-meets-epistle that recounts the numerous struggles members of the LGBT community have faced from the AIDS crisis through the current Trump presidency. Much of this is admirable, and I, for one, am thankful for the activism and work Jackson did in his own time in ACT UP and with other organizations organizing for our community.
The issue, though, is that his book fails to analyze the ways in which he, himself, as a white, wealthy, gay man, also experiences a vast amount privilege that buffers him from the experiences of members of the LGBT community who aren't as lucky. The book is rife with conversations on surrogacy that fail to acknowledge the privilege (and potential irresponsibility) of choosing surrogacy over adoption (or having no kids for those queer people who can't afford it), conversations that outright deny that marriage is a heteronormative institution (which it is. That's not a critique; it's a historical fact), and conversations that just don't seem to want to acknowledge that organizations like the HRC and people like Pete Buttigieg, while certainly being nominally gay, actually stand for political positions that negatively impact a lot of non-white, non-cis, and non-male queer people.
I came to this book with high hopes, but ultimately I was disappointed. It IS the responsibility of older generations of queer people to guide younger generations, just as it is the younger generations task to listen. But that guidance must be charged with true self-reflection that understands our pasts as being filled with much oppression, but also much privilege, and then teaches us how to use that privilege to build a truly powerful, rich queer community.
this book is for HRC members who think Ellen and Rupaul are good role models. neoliberal, really reductive. multiple times he uses rhetoric and quotes directly from black liberation movements, and just applies the exact same thing to gayness?? like w.e.b. dubois, audre lorde, etc, and does the thing that white liberals constantly do — referencing a couple common ideas from black radical work and not engaging with their work as a whole or from any sort of radical perspective.
also repeatedly misuses more radical language like intersectionality and liberation. marriage equality is not??? gay liberation??????
When I was 18, I wanted to hear "It gets better" and "There are other people like you." In this book, written by a gay father to his gay son, he says, "It's a cruel world out there and you have to be careful."
When women are told to be aware of their surroundings, that can be considered “victim blaming.” When a young man is told to be aware of his surroundings, that is considered good advice. We all need to be aware of our surroundings.
I had a complicated reaction to this book. On one hand, the writer is coming from a place of privilege, with financial resources and celebrity friends. Like some gay men, he really really wanted to have children. He thinks gay people should always be gay, because we have our enemies and any sort of progress can easily be taken away. Recent events hint at a backwards momentum.
I guess the book made me sad, in a way, because instead of a hopeful message, like "It gets better" or "We have come so far" the real message here seems to be "We have to keep fighting or we could lose everything."
And that makes me sad because it's true. We do have to be aware of our surroundings, and we do not always live in a safe place.
But, Jackson says, "Be kind. When you are ready for anything, and valuing the people around you, the possibilities of what you can achieve are endless."
So let's all be kind, people, and see what we can achieve.
If I had to compare this book to another, I would say it’s similar to “Between the World and Me” by Ta-Nehisi Coates but a gay man writing to his gay son, instructing him how to survive in a straight world. This book is a memoir, a love letter, a warning. it is urgent, prescient, emotional. I could hand this book to so many people. Read this, talk to me. This is the experience of a gay man. Every day requires coming out. Disease is still a very serious risk. Hatred is rampant, bubbling just under the surface of a gleaming veneer of wokeness. It’s a very specific experience but the prejudice, the fear, the separation, are all so universal they can apply to many experiences.
I listened to the audiobook. Listen if you can, because the narration by the author is beautiful. Hearing this father speak directly to his son in the second person voice was emotional and visceral. At times the book stopped me cold as the author felt like he was talking to me. I wish I had a father who spoke to me like this.
The author raised a boy who was conceived and carried through surrogacy. The way a gay man can have a child is not easy. And yet, gay men are not immune from the heartbreak of losing a child, getting divorced, having a career. The author describes his experience with moving to New York City, coming out, the AIDS epidemic, and leading up to marriage equality. The author has many famous friends and seemed to be in the heart of the gay revolution in New York. He uses history, setting, and politics to explain his position in the world.
The power of this book comes as a warning. AIDS is not over. Prejudice, violence, hatred still exists towards gay people in the United States and around the world. Employers can still discriminate against people. But these warnings are not just political but practical and personal. This a father telling his son as he goes out into the world to guard his heart but have fun, fall in love create a family. Be kind, be polite, others will not be.
At times, I reacted strongly to some of this statements. This is not my experience, how dare you! The tone and the voice, you, you, you hit me deeply, emotionally in a way that I never expected. This book may not describe my exact experience, but it summarizes the struggle, the tone, the joy, and the sadness perfectly. But my reaction is the baggage of a gay man. These words are powerful. I felt them deep inside me.
I can’t recommend this book of love and empathy enough. Go, read this. Listen. Absorb these words. Put yourself in the shoes of this father. Put yourself in the shoes of the son. If you do not live as a gay man every day, this may be the closest you’ll get. ★★★★★ • Audiobook • Nonfiction • Listened on the Scribd app. ◾︎
An important book marking the generations between father and son from a gay male perspective. Richie Jackson lays out the reality of living as a gay man in the United States. Jackson came of age as a young man in NYC during the 1980's at the beginning and height of the AIDS crisis. He now passes on his wisdom to his eldest son as that son prepares to leave home for college. Honest, brutal, tender, loving, political - this book clearly describes the world younger gay men face never sugar coating. Jackson celebrates the positive and warns of the negative. Our work is not done for full LGBTQ equality at home and abroad. This book lovingly and intelligently lays out one man's journey, defining his generation for his teenage gay son.
My Review: I'm afraid this isn't my kindest review.
Your cotton is down, Miss Richie. A wealthy white man using WEB DuBois quotes to bring up points in the QUILTBAG struggle needs to cross a high bar of interrogating his privilege, acknowledging his appropriation and justifying it, and not speaking to the son he conceived through surrogacy and raised in the world where that simply *is* as though that is the world his son will inherit. Much has changed since Stonewall. But much that has changed seems not to have made a mark on the author...or the publisher. Between the World and Me does not inhabit the same ZIP code as this book, any more than the authors do.
Now for the parts I can relate to, and acknowledge as positive: This is a good and solid rumination on the trajectory of the movement for 2SLGBTQIA+ to be fully included in the politics and culture of this country. I'm glad this gay dad is writing to his gay son about his life, and his work to make the world more inclusive. I simply wish that he had been more aware of what did not get dome and who was not included, and asked his son to advance the work already done. Sadly it was left as "this is your dad" and that, in the 2020s, is just not enough.
This had an ok premise, but really didn't work in execution. Jackson is gay and otherwise super-privileged, which he acknowledges, but is still apparent in his writing. His identity is completely vested in his being gay, which I understand, but he is very oblivious in other aspects.
It's so irresponsible to conflate the experiences of cis gays and trans people, especially since trans people are statistically more at-risk when it comes to hate crimes and similar situations. Jackson has a history of fighting for LGBT rights (especially during the AIDS crisis) and that's super important, but his views are so dated. The name-checking of Pete Buttigieg, while not acknowledging all the harm Buttigieg has done as a fellow gay white man, really makes this clear. If you're looking for a super-basic oversharing from a white gay father to a biracial gay son, this is that, but it hits all these notes soullessly.
Richie Jackson is the award-winning talent manager and producer of the hit television show, Nurse Jackie, as well as other Broadway plays, films, and television shows. He is the former partner of the actor B.D. Wong with whom he had a surrogacy-born son. Since 2012, he has been married to Jordan Roth, a Tony-Award winning producer.
At the age of 18, Richie Jackson’s son came out to him as gay. Writing that “my son is kind, responsible, and hardworking” Jackson goes on to say that “he is ready for college. He is not ready to be a gay man living in America.”
Jackson begins his book telling the birth story of his prematurely born twins. One child died just hours after birth. The surviving baby weighed less than three pounds. When the baby needed a blood transfusion a couple months later, Jackson writes his son that “because BD and I are gay, we were prohibited by US Food and Drug Administration regulations to be your blood donor…because we were gay we couldn’t take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of, the way we had pledged to take care of you.”
He goes on to say that even though the hospital staff knew the two men were HIV-negative, “it was a smackdown. A smackdown when we were already down—one son dead, one son in critical condition who may not survive…Just a few months old and you were already confronted with gay prejudice.”
Gay Like Me is Jackson’s letter to his gay son, a book-length letter in which he reflects upon gay identity, history, and culture as he prepares his son to live as a gay man in a country that “doesn’t want you, doesn’t accept you, is systematically attempting to erase you.”
He tells his son that gay visibility is not a cure-all. Writing about his own coming out experience, Jackson reminds his son that even though gay persons are now visible, “our new mainstream identity…is a false salve. The veneer is better but not good enough, and better doesn’t mean right or just.���
Jackson then writes his son that “your confident attitude about being gay when you say your generation just doesn’t think it is a “big deal” greatly concerns me. I am afraid that you aren’t aware of what it takes to be an out gay man in a society that deems you as less than others, of the fortitude, stamina, and perseverance needed to live a safe, fulfilling, and prideful life of gay self-esteem in a world that is trying to erase you.”
In reminding his son that while there has been advancement and increased visibility, “our recent liberation has also been observed by our adversaries. Anti-LGBTQ organizations, the Trump administration, and the majority of state legislatures have witnessed our liberation, too, and are lined up against us to deny us our hard-fought freedoms, our gains won with the loss of lives equivalent to a war, and to not allow us our human rights again.”
Jackson also encourages his son not to seek assimilation but to celebrate his “otherness.” He tells him that “those elements of your otherness are your deep well of creativity and divinity.” He goes on to say that one way to celebrate that otherness which “breeds empathy, emboldens ideas, and expands boundaries” is to see what gay artists and writers have understood about being gay in a straight world.
He tells him to look at the art of Keith Haring and Robert Mapplethorpe, to see plays like Angels in America, and to read books by James Baldwin and Andrew Holleran. He tells his son that “reading books by gay writers writing about gay people…will help you claim your space.” He goes on to say that when we read books from the heterosexual culture “we have to bend or stretch to put ourselves in the story like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.”
Though each chapter of this short book invites reflection, when I read this section of Gay Like Me, I thought about what happens when I read. I taught the beautiful Shakespeare play, Romeo and Juliet, countless times and read it even more. Yet, as much as I love that play and its beautiful use of language, I never fully connected with it. I just do not emotionally understand the love between Romeo and Juliet. Instead, I felt deeply the unexpressed love between Romeo and Mercutio.
As Jackson tells his son, “we rehear each pronoun; we squint just enough to pretend to see two men…[but] substitution is not an acceptable paradigm. It places you firmly on a margin. Each place where you look and fail to find yourself reinforces the fact that you don’t exist, that you aren’t worthy, that you don’t belong.” Thinking about Jackson’s words to his son reminds me why I read so much literature by gay authors and why I devour movies that represent and acknowledge my existence.
As humans we all have much in common. But as humans, we also have differences that we must not ignore if we hope to live authentically and be guided by our potential. It is the arts that nourish us as we discover ourselves and how to live into the world.
In writing about family, friendship, love, sex, AIDS, grief, parenting, politics, anger, and more, the author has written a love letter to inform and empower his gay son. He has also written it to bridge two generations: one which fought to bring gay life out of the shadows and one that seems complacent and unprepared for LGBTQ life in America.
While Jackson wrote Gay Like Me as a letter to his son, he has written a letter for all gay men across the generations. He has also written a letter that will help those who are straight better understand the people in their life who are gay men.
Finally, Gay Like Me seeks to empower and break down complacency. Ask any older LGBTQ person with enough life experience how secure and fully accepted they feel today. I am in my 60s. I assure you; the veneer is thin.
Some things I hadn't heard about. There were intense parts. Sad that nowadays you can't read a book without politics taking over. Most of it happens in the last hour and a half. All-in-all, I didn't agree with everything, but it was a quick and interesting read.
Political examples include the following.
Donald Trump and Melania go a same-sex wedding. Trump says it was beautiful. Later Trump gets called homophobic.
"....But every same-sex wedding is inherently political too".
"Beware to the Republican allies who tell you they are fiscally conservative but socially liberal. They are telling you that our community will always come second to them".
Although I knew nothing of Richie Jackson's career or significance to the queer community prior to reading this book, this letter to his son brought me to tears. Between the touching personal stories, raw love and deep appreciation for his family, and painful and prideful history of the community, this was as informative as it was emotional.
My father bought me this book for Christmas a few years ago. I've finally read it. Aside from simply becoming busy and reading other, perhaps more pressing books, there may have been a part of me scared to read this. My parents have thankfully been supportive of my queerness even though that journey has not been easy for any of us. I'm grateful to have them still in my life. Though my sexuality comes up on a semi-regular basis, we usually discuss this in relation to art like movies, fiction books, and music. It's accessible that way and only sometimes do we discuss my place in the political world.
For my father to give me this book was a marked turning point. It was his way of continuing to parent me even though I was 21 when I received the book and 25 when I read it. It was him recognizing his shortcomings parenting a queer child because he is not queer, nor is my mother. There will always be things that they don't understand but this book is the symbol of them bridging that gap. It must be torture to accept there are things you cannot teach your child, places within them you cannot travel, that sometimes you must relinquish your parental duty of protection to someone else or, in an even harder move, to the entire world.
I read this book in just under a week. I could've read faster, but from the very first pages I knew I would need some reflection time. There's much to unpack and not everything is easy to read. When I first began, I did so on a day where my mental health was shattered, so I put on glasses on a nighttime bus ride to see a friend. The shades hid my mental state from the passengers as I got too close to crying in public. I read half of the book that day then took a several day break. When I finally returned to reading, I did it from the comfort of my apartment.
Gay Like Me will forever be a special book. I will read other histories of queer existence and perhaps better memoirs and advice from my queer elders. But Gay Like Me was meant for me at this time in my life. I would've loved this book eight years ago when I was setting off to college, but I'm glad to have it now in a phase of my life that is overwhelmingly and contradictorily filled to the brim with happiness, sadness, confusion, seeking, and above all change. To be given a book by my father that in no uncertain terms discusses queer sex, queer parenting, queer marriage, queer art, and the simple idea that being queer will forever be the most defining part of oneself; to be told this in a book that is not fiction but is matter of fact guidelines and advice; to be given a book that says 'Son, this is everything I cannot tell you but that you need to know. I've read it and I understand it and I want you to learn this because I love you.'
It's easy to forget that Jackson is talking to his son here, and feel as if he is talking to an entire younger generation of the queer community.
So often we take for granted what we have, and fail to seek an understanding of how we got here. Who fought, who died, who sacrificed so we have the rights we have today. This book serves as one man's perspective into those fights. His advice, while sometimes short sided, is such a beautiful reminder to take into account what the queer men and women before us did to get us here.
Jackson says so many things in this book that I have felt and said myself, though perhaps he says them more eloquently then I ever could. His take on Pride, Gay Safe Spaces, Gay identity feel so personal to me that reading them here felt affirming and wonderful. There were certainly areas that I differed on his opinions, especially when discussing his views on sex and relationships, yet still, despite my disagreeing, it is important to hear and understand others perspectives.
I think so many younger gay men could benefit from reading this. Not to change your mind, or to say you must agree with everything he advises, but to understand why our sense of community, and queerness is so important to not only us, but to them as well. To understand why being gay, IS a big deal, and why, even with advancements in our rights and visibility, we still need to fight, and still need to be proud.
It all culminated best in one of the final chapters, were Jackson spoke on the Pride festival and weekend. Not only did he talk about his views on the festivities, but was able to understand a new perspective on them based on other people's thoughts and feelings. He grew to understand it differently, and I think, from reading these letters to his son, and to a younger gay generation, we can all come to understand things a little differently too.
"You don't have to be gay like me, but you do need to be sufficiently gay your own way."
I can’t imagine the experience of being a gay kid with a gay dad. That must be amazing. Having a dad care enough to write a book like this is an incredible gift. But, as an adult who is not Richie Jackson’s kid, I didn’t get a ton out of it.
The author’s perspective is often hard to relate to. Although being gay is a core piece of my identity and experience of life, this author has a peculiar way of narrowing life to the extent that basically nothing outside of being gay even seems to exist. It is his only discernible lens. I’ve never heard the word gay more times in any book other than this one. (Ditto “extraordinary.”)
He seems to simultaneously over-romanticize being gay as if he really hit the jackpot somehow while simultaneously overstating the challenges of being gay. His son grew up in a white, affluent household with gay dads in a famously gay-affirming city, but dad constantly warns how hard life will be for him. There is no recognition of their privilege, even though he literally had Donald Trump as a guest at his wedding, just to give an idea how far in a wealthy Manhattan bubble these people live in.
And dad goes off on all sorts of preachy dad speeches. Stay away from porn. Use a condom each and every time you have sex no matter what. Never use drugs. Don’t we all know that every young person will break all of those rules at some point?
a very uncomfortable mix of 1) a dad talking about how kids on their phones will never have as genuine of experiences as he did back in his day 2) attributing quotes from black activists to a wealthy white experience 3) more detailed sex anecdotes than most kids no matter their age would want to hear about their own parents. this feels also like a sad imitation of Ta-Nehisi Coates' book, with very little to contribute to queer discourse beyond "you kids these days, good luck at college"
To put it briefly: There’s so much more that should have been said about LGBTQIA+ people of color, given the fact that his son his half Chinese. Though his son has high proximity to whiteness, there are so many more ways in which he is not “gay like him.” I hope THAT is a specific and vulnerable discussion that they have had.
Just wasn’t for me. I found the whole book very winy and bitchy. Bet the author is a blast at parties… and for a white man to use excerpts of black liberation authors to describe gayness and the acceptance of being a white gay man says a lot about him. I hope his son doesn’t take this book as some gay bible as the author intended.
Parents who suspect their son is gay should read this book immediately, and gift it to their child once they come out. It could open the door to many healthy discussions. (Content may be most applicable to ages 15-25.)
I don't know what genre this piece of rich, white privilege of a book should fall into, it's not a memoir, although if your were to read the synopsis, you'd think you'd be reading an in-person account of gay life and history circa 1980 to present day. What you'll get is a gay father's "letter" to his son who is turning 18 and has come out as gay, however, this letter is more like a lecture in fear and lament over what the author didn't do because he lives his life scared of what being gay might mean in the outside world. This same fear has dominated his own life and limited his personal enjoyment of sex (something he rants about throughout the book).
What really made this irritating (aside from the author's narration, or his white privilege, or the fact that he only mentions briefly midway through the book that his son is bi-racial), is the utter frightfulness that he creates about gay life while at the same time trying to tell his son to be proud of his gayness, celebrate it, but always look over your shoulder because someone will want to hurt or kill you because of it. Jackson's whole pretense in this letter is for his son to acknowledge that he's gay first and that is the very core of his being and is part of everything he will do. You're gay first!
I'm only a couple years older that the author. I came out in 1979, at the age of 18 and had my first kiss and gay sex right in college. I wasn't afraid of it. In fact, it is one of the greatest stories in my life, that first kiss. I grew up in a small, Iowa town. Homophobia was something I grew up with. I was relentlessly teased in school because I was drama and chorus. For pity's sake, I received the typing award one year (nothing says gay like being the only guy in a class of girls and being the fastest typist). I was also a big kid, football big, and this got me even more ridicule from the football coach who tried to get me to join the football team beginning my freshman year. I lived through the AIDS crisis of the late 80s and into the 2000s, I was diagnosed with AIDS in 2002. My partner of 21 years died as a result of complications due to his viral status in 2011. I knew a great many men in Florida who died during this time. I saw the AIDS Quilt when it came to Tampa, I cried with all the other visitors. These are all part of who I am at age 62 now.
By the author's advice, we should introduce ourselves as gay and then give people our name. We shouldn't hide our gayness (I agree with this, but let's be practical...I live in a small town once more in Iowa and while my partner and I present very obviously as gay, we don't push it in our neighbor's faces, nor do we hide our life from them).
I want to go back to the hypocrisy of the author's advice, advice that is so tinged with rich, white privilege that as a white male who has acknowledged his white privilege (and the fact that he doesn't present as gay), I found his tone pompous and unrelatable to almost anyone other than another rich, white gay man living in New York City. You want to know how he's rich: Donald and Melania Trump were at his wedding and even tweeted out their congratulations! Jesus fucking Christ! And then later, he goes into the horrors of the Trump presidency without really commenting on the uncomfortable fact he was at their 'big gay wedding.'
I could rant on and on about this shitty book, about his very white-washing of gay history reducing it all down to some name drops, the same for gay literature which was all about authors from our generation and never even bothering to consider the vast number of gay and lesbian authors producing work today. I won't get into the 'gay geography' portion of the book, but suffice to say, if I planned any trip anywhere considering what kind of laws and codes are in place, I would never be able to see my mother or brother in FL again.
Do not read this book unless you want to spend your life living in fear and loathing.
ARC provided by the publisher via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
I have pretty mixed opinions about this book. I didn't know who Richie Jackson was before getting this arc, so I didn't realize he's actually in the entertainment industry. From reading this book, I understand that Richie is a very intellectual, loving, and caring man and father. He'd lived through the AIDS crisis and now has a gay son who is going away to college and wants to share all the vital information he's learned throughout his gay life. It made me jealous that I don't have parents like Richie! It was really sweet that Jackson has a father like Richie.
However, I felt like I didn't benefit much from this book, and it's hard to see how people besides Jackson will benefit. Yes, there were many spectacular quotes that made me think, but the book was so personal and specific to Jackson that I found it hard to relate. Maybe I wasn't supposed to. But it still made me feel like an outsider to this family. Not everyone is the gay son of rich white parents in New York City's entertainment industry. Some advice was for the general queer population, but a lot of it had nothing to do with me as a queer WoC and I felt like we as viewers shouldn't be reading it. I really think only Jackson should be the one reading it, and I think this book/letter was only published because it was just long enough to be considered a book.
Besides that, I was a bit nit-picky about a few things. Richie's tone with Jackson seemed a bit condescending at times, and obviously Jackson is his son and knows his father's tone better than I do, but he talked to Jackson like he was absolutely stupid at times. Other times were a bit repetitive, maybe for good reason, as it discussed important topics. For example, there were about three chapters that emphasized safe sex. At least six chapters talking about how Jackson needs to stay safe because we may think queer people are safe now but we're truly not. Important topics, mind you, but I feel like they didn't need to be repeated over and over. Finally, Jackson is literally half-Chinese and his Chinese heritage is never mentioned besides calling him biracial once. Jackson being Chinese and gay leads to a whole other set of issues that his father could have addressed but never did? It just seemed a lot like "advice from your rich white gay dad's point of view who erases your ethnicity and trashes modern-day gay culture." The book was short, which was nice because I don't think it could have been longer, but I don't think it should have been published as a book at all.
I know it seems like I'm trashing the book, and I did have a few problems with it, but I definitely feel like Richie's intentions were anything but malicious. He and his family seem like such pure-hearted individuals and I truly wish him and his son, Jackson, all the best.
As someone who takes pride in living an authentic life — in my career, in my artistic pursuits, and just in everyday life — Gay Like Me by Richie Jackson spoke to me in ways I didn't quite expect when I first picked it up. This is not just a gay book; it's a letter from a father to his son, overflowing with all the tough love, hard realities, and hard-earned knowledge that come from living openly in a world that is not always glad of difference.
Jackson's writing is deeply personal, yet it's also universal. He nails the emotional push-and-pull of fear and pride — something I know all too well. His message to his son resonates with the messages I wish younger LGBTQ+ individuals heard more clearly: that being gay isn't something you survive; it's something you rejoice in.
I appreciated that Jackson isn't afraid to speak his mind. He's honest about the progress we've made and the dangers that still exist. It's a reminder that just as the world has changed (and continues to change), the struggle for visibility, for rights, and for real acceptance continues — something I catch myself thinking about a lot when I work in public spaces like libraries, where visibility matters.
Jackson's writing is clear and accessible — perfect for readers who want something sincere but perhaps not scholarly. It's written almost like a conversation or advice session, which made it intimate to me, as if guidance being passed across generations of LGBTQ+ people. I can see how this book could be really life altering for a younger person, just beginning their path, or even to someone who is an ally and wishes for a more accurate view of what it means to be gay outside of stereotypes.
In a nutshell, Gay Like Me is a love letter, a call to action, and a celebration all combined. It made me feel visible, heard, and ignited to keep on being seen, be proud, and be true to myself, but also to others who are yet to find their voice.
If I ever have a queer son I'll have to warn them about how no one can cut down queer people like other queer people--which is why I hate to do this, buuuut...like, Gay Like Me is a very fitting title. Just not how they intended. But for a book purporting to be a collective story of the queer community that falls into a far narrower slot while conjuring the civil rights struggle of Black Americans, many, many times, while simultaneously completely failing to acknowledge privilege and racism within the queer community, or really any sort of intersectional thinking...it's just really appropriate to cop it's title from Black Like Me, which was written by a white person. Doing a Borat-type sociological experiment in the 1960s South. Like, at that time there were actual books about the Black experience written by actual Black people...but the book more people read and talked about was the one written by a white dude. Because white people needed a white person to tell them that Black people are actually just also people and we've been treating them badly.
Gay Like Me is just super narrow in its focus while presenting itself as broad. And it dips into some very important history, but with the detail of a Wikipedia article. I'm sorry to do this, but there are just so many better books for younger queer people to discover their history and bolster themselves for their present. And, like, how Between the World and Me was like one of the only books by Black Americans that a lot of white people read the year of its release...I just wouldn't want this to be like one of the only books straight people read about the gays. Sorry.
I found alot to identify with in writer/producer Jackson’s heartfelt entreaty to his son. Being the same age I remember what it felt like coming of age when he did, before hookup apps, before the Internet, before pronouns, and gender neutral bathrooms, and certainly before gay parents. (Unless they were previously in heterosexual relationships and were now divorced and living their authentic lives). I remember the journey to fatherhood, the NICU six weeks early than was intended, my son no bigger than my forearm and the luck we had at receiving care from a gay neonatologist in what was otherwise a fairly conservative part of California. The confusion at airports, the inquiries after our wives, and the people who still ask, “Who’s the mom and who’s the dad”, and the constant scratching out on forms mother and replacing with father. ⠀ 🌈 ⠀ But it’s second half of Jackson’s book should be necessary reading for young people today on the rainbow spectrum to understand and learn from the people who marched and fought and pushed ,and yes died for the progress that has been made today and which is under severe attack by this current administration. Jackson argues and rightfully for the necessity of the tribe. As he says to his son, “You don’t have to be gay like me, but you do need to be sufficiently gay your own way”.
We recieved the book, "Gay Like Me", from a Goodreads giveaway, and it was a pleasure to read. With all of the sensitive issues in the Gay lifestyles of today, this book tells it like it is. The author was proud to be a man about revealing his right to be a Gay, and explores many of the fascinating aspects of his unique lifestyle. He also explains how the changing culture in America affected his many tough decisions as a Gay man. Great biographical account of a complex human being, very moving. Well recommended!
A lot of people are hating on this book because they feel it excludes experiences of their queer identities. But as the title implies…ya obviously. It’s a letter from one gay man to his gay son. It was never meant to be used as a reference to queer history. It’s truly impossible for one person to have insight on all queer outcomes. This is a personal story written for a familiar audience (his son).
I did like how Richie dismissed gay people who claim their homosexuality to only be one part of them. "These type of devaluations are disguised apologies for who you are, diminishing you bit by bit, robbing you of the full utilization and expression of yourself... Being gay is the most important thing about me."
A gay father writes to his gay son about his 50 years of lived experience as a gay man in this country. I couldn't relate one bit but it was still a very interesting read.
It was a good book and brought to life the struggles of the past and the struggles of the present. There are some good insights as this father wrote this book to his out of the closet son.
Having just adopted a son with my husband, I felt very emotional thinking how far LGBTQ+ people have come and how much I am living a dream many of my gay ancestors could hardly imagine.
Jackson writes beautifully on his experiences as a gay youth, his involvement with gay theater in NY, his activism with ACTUP and his experience surviving the AIDS epidemic. He advises his son on how to survive in society as a gay man and how to be a good global gay citizen.
I’ve read many other reviews here on GR and I sometimes wonder if some read the entire book. Jackson is very forthright with his privilege as a white man and “passing.” He spends a lot of the book highlighting trans activists from past and present, highlights queer POC’s activism, art and struggles. He implores his son to fight on behalf of the community, for those in countries where it is not safe to be gay, for those in America that are being persecuted. He specifically quotes statistics about the epidemic of trans people being murdered in the US.
Gay Like Me was a great look at where we are, where we were and where we still have to go as a gay community. It’s never been a safer time to be gay in America, especially a white gay male, and Jackson implores his son (a cis gay mixed race child) to not be comfortable in his privilege but continue to fight for himself and for the community.