For five decades, Kenneth “Kenn” Mitchell has been a community advocate and political activist in New Orleans. He has been involved with countless community organizations and initiatives, including LAGPAC, Project Brotherhood, and NOAGE, to name just a few. He was recently honored with the Carmen Vázquez SAGE Award for Excellence in Leadership on Aging.
JM: Hi, Kenn. Thank you for meeting with me. Could you talk a little bit about your early life?
KM: I was born and raised in New Orleans and grew up in the 7th Ward, and was one of ten children. My mom died when we were little, so my aunt and uncle stepped in to help my dad raise us. Most of us attended Catholic schools, which was one of my mom’s wishes. After graduating from high school, I got an undergraduate degree in psychology from Dillard, and a master’s degree in social work from Tulane. I was a school social worker in New Orleans public schools for over 30 years.
JM: When did you come out of the closet?
KM: I was a junior at Dillard, and was going out with a woman, but I fell in love with my fraternity brother. When I fell in love with him – and it was mutual – I thought, “What could be wrong with this? God is love.” That experience enabled me to reconcile my sexuality with my spirituality. I’d been a very strict Catholic, and that made it difficult for me to come to terms with my sexuality. But meeting him and coming out was a profound spiritual experience for me.
JM: How did people react?
KM: I came out to my family first. My dad was the one I was most afraid to come out to, but it ended up being a bonding experience for us. Coming out was an unpredictable experience. The people I thought would be accepting were not, and the people I expected to reject me did not. Then when I applied to graduate school, part of the application was to write an autobiography, so I wrote about my experience coming out. I got a call from one of the secretaries, and she advised me not to say that. She meant well; she thought she was looking out for me. Anyway, I declined her suggestion, and it turned out fine. Not long after that, I started volunteering at the first local LGBTQ center [Gay Services Center], which was on Burgundy Street. It was run by a former Baptist minister named Mike Stark. He was quite a character! He always wore caftans, and designed Mardi Gras masks.
JM: What made you want to get involved with activism?
KM: Well, it was just the right time for that. Anita Bryant was doing her anti-gay thing. And the Black community had gotten very organized and political and was gaining strength. So at the time, it just kind of gelled for me.
JM: You were one of the first members of LAGPAC (Louisiana Gay Political Action Caucus). What was that like?
KM: LAGPAC had a healthy mix of men and women, but not many people of color. At one meeting of the early meetings, a man named Alfred Doolittle blurted out: “Where’s the Black people?!”
JM: Was there an answer?
KM: Well, it was obvious that there were very few Black people there. But that led to the birth of the Langston/Jones Society [named for Langston Hughes and Mary Jones], which was a wing of LAGPAC focused on African Americans in the gay community.
JM: Were there other groups or organizations that focused on the needs of LGBTQ people of color in New Orleans?
KM: A group called Men of Color New Orleans was formed in response to the need for cultural sensitivity for Black men who were suffering and dying of AIDS. Project Brotherhood [not to be confused with Brotherhood Inc., which still exists] was under that umbrella. And ManTalk, which still meets regularly, was another subgroup of Men of Color New Orleans.
JM: What do you remember about the height of the AIDS epidemic?
KM: I remember losing so many friends. And being concerned about my own health. I remember how fearful people were of those who were diagnosed. For example, I took a friend of mine to an appointment at Charity. I dropped him off at the clinic on my way to work, and when I went to pick him up after work, he was in the same spot I left him. People were afraid to touch him, and that’s how people were being treated at the time.
JM: Were Black people being treated differently by AIDS service providers?
KM: I don’t want to say that they didn’t reach out to the Black community. I just know there was a need for culturally sensitive programs because whatever was being done wasn’t effective in the Black community. So [Black-led groups] would go to the bars to do outreach, not just set up a table somewhere. We would mingle with the guys, talk to them, and hand out condoms, and I think they appreciated that personal approach.
JM: Can you talk about what the bar scene was like in those days?
KM: It was just very disheartening to go to [predominantly White] bars and be treated differently. You’d have to have three forms of ID. If you didn’t, you couldn’t get in. And then the White guy behind you just walked through. And we had to pay different prices for the drinks. I found it puzzling that one group of oppressed people would treat another oppressed group like that. Service organizations and nonprofits made more concerted efforts to be inclusive. It didn’t always work, but there was usually more of an effort. But most people who are both Black and gay feel the pain of racism more than the pain of homophobia. Because as soon as you walk out the door, you can be a target of racism. But I think both require healing; from the external hate, and from the internalized stigma that comes from racism and homophobia.
JM: I met you through your work at NOAGE. How did you get involved with that?
KM: I was introduced to it by Paul Metoyer, who was involved with ManTalk, and I wound up serving as one of the first board members. [NOAGE co-founder] Jason Waguespack was inspired to help isolated elders after seeing what happened to one of his elderly neighbors who had lost a partner. The board was very diverse. And it just took off, and is still doing great work today.
JM: What would you say to people who aren’t aware of the history of LGBTQ and other civil rights movements? How do you keep moving forward when there has been such a rise in animosity toward so many groups of people lately?
KM: I talk to young people, and they give me hope. Because they know that things are going backwards, and their response is, “we’re going to fight.” But the thing I’d say to young people is this: Whenever there’s progress for any oppressed group, there’s always going to be backlash from people who want to maintain the status quo. That’s a given. All of us, not just young people, have to be prepared for that backlash. Stay informed, but take care of your mental health. And just be active. Volunteer. And donate. Giving five dollars to a political campaign may not seem like it makes a difference, but it does. Those grassroots dollars really matter.
JM: Who are your heroes?
KM: One of my heroes is Bayard Rustin. Not just because of his organizing the March on Washington; it’s a disservice to him to only credit him for that. This man brought the whole concept of nonviolence to MLK, and that concept of nonviolent resistance is a pillar that really created change. The Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act are direct results of his work and influence.
JM: I know that animal rights are also important to you. Would you feel comfortable talking about that?
KM: Yes, I am an animal rights activist. The slaughter of animals, and how they’re treated by the meat industry, is an atrocity. These are sentient beings, and their offspring are ripped away from their mothers and slaughtered. Most people think we need animals for protein, and that’s a fallacy. It’s no longer a valid argument. We can get protein from plants. And here’s another insight that relates to aging healthily and eating dead animals: If we stop treating our bodies like cemeteries, we might age better.
JM: Is there anything that I haven’t asked you about that you’d like to say?
KM: Yes. I recommend that everybody have at least a year of therapy!
JM: Amen to that!
