The Power of the A-Gays

“Power without generosity is hollow. Visibility without solidarity is shallow.” - Jim Fielding

The New York Times recently profiled the so-called “A-Gays” of Washington, D.C.—an elite circle of privileged, cisgender, mostly white gay men who position themselves at the top of a hierarchy in our own community. The piece landed like a punch in the gut because it laid bare something we don’t often say out loud: sometimes, we recreate the very systems that once excluded us.

The obsession with proximity to power, the desperate assimilation into heteronormativity, the curated performances of wealth and access—these behaviors don’t liberate us, they repeat the old script with new actors. And too often, the price is paid by others: queer people of color, trans and non-binary folks, and anyone who doesn’t fit into a glossy magazine cover version of “acceptable” gay.

Earlier this month, my fiancé and I celebrated Atlanta Black Pride. It was an extraordinary experience—joyful, authentic, and filled with love. And yet, I left with mixed emotions.

Why do we need separate Prides to feel seen?

Why can’t every Pride celebrate the full spectrum of our rainbow?

Because the hard truth is that division works in our detractors’ favor. They thrive on splintering us, whispering the lie that some of us are more valuable than others.

The sad truth is that Representation and Visiblity Matter so much, that historically underrepresented and marginalized voices in our community need to demand their own space to celebrate, because certain factions of our system do not create it for them.

That is simply SAD.

Which brings me back to the “A-Gays.”

What is the point of influence if it circles back only to benefit you and your inner circle? Where is the mentorship for the next generation? The hand extended to those less fortunate? The voice raised when trans lives are under attack? If you have a seat at the table and you aren’t using it to lift others, then you aren’t leading—you’re just fitting in.

James Baldwin once wrote, “The place in which I’ll fit will not exist until I make it.” 

He wasn’t talking about assimilation; he was demanding creation—a new space, one rooted in justice, visibility, and truth. That’s the challenge before us. To stop trying to squeeze into rooms never built for us, and instead build tables wide enough to hold us all.

My own leadership philosophy, Ask for an Answer, pushes us to wrestle with uncomfortable questions. What answer are you giving with your choices? Are you using privilege to build bridges, or walls? Are you practicing the Golden—or better yet, the Platinum—Rule? Or are you quietly reinforcing a hierarchy that leaves too many of us behind?

Because let’s be clear: power without generosity is hollow.

Visibility without solidarity is shallow.

And acceptance that applies only to some of us is not acceptance at all.

We don’t need more “A-Gays” climbing ladders that were designed to keep most of us out. We need a community grounded in radical kindness—brave enough to include everyone, especially those pushed furthest to the margins.

So, my ask today is simple.

If you’re one of those with influence, look in the mirror and ask yourself:

What answer am I giving?

Am I lifting others as I rise, or am I just chasing belonging in a world that was never meant for me?

“Stop climbing ladders built to keep most of us out. Build wider tables instead.”

The choice is ours. And so is the responsibility.