BURLINGTON, Vt. (AP) | Guests on the “Brown ‘n Out” podcast answer two questions:
What does black and brown queer culture in Vermont look like to you?
When do you feel most brown `n out?
Reggie Condra, a health and wellness coordinator at Burlington’s Pride Center, launched a “podcast about LGBTQ People of Color in Vermont” in February 2018.
Condra, 31, identifies as black and gay. He often felt the talking heads for the LGBTQ+ community were cisgender, white males.
So he started “Brown `n Out.”
The podcast, uploaded on Podbean, features a range of voices. Condra said people labeled him an activist. He does not disagree.
“But then also, I don’t think it’s so radical,” he said. “Like it shouldn’t always be an act of activism to just highlight people of color or queer people.”
Condra likes to build a rapport with his subjects, getting coffee before the interview. His episodes typically begin with a funny snippet embedded in the conversation.
“I never just want to ask, you know, a person kind of blanketly about their identity,” he said. “I want them to talk to me about things that they’re interested in.”
Condra acknowledged these topics might have nothing to do with their identities. He has published 26 of these conversations.
Since the podcast launched, he found himself taking it more seriously.
“It was always a super personal endeavor and one that no one was ever checking for — like I don’t have a boss …” he said. “I would like to say over time I’m just tightening it up a bit more and kind of learning how to be a professional podcaster.”
He does not listen to many podcasts. However, he felt “Brown `n Out” could be served through the medium, which he described as current and democratic, explaining anyone can make a podcast and it can be consumed on-the-go.
He considered the launch during Black History Month last year a “happy coincidence.”
“It wasn’t unintentional that it came out in February,” he said. “But I’m also very aware that February and only February is a time that a lot of media outlets, organizations — even nonprofits — like to roll out all of their black, or QTPOC, or POC-centered content in that month and sort of think … That takes care of the rest of the year.”
“I would say that I had advanced taste as a youth,” he said. “I was always absorbing any queer culture or what looked like queer culture, that I could possibly find. Like on the low, though.”
Condra’s mom allowed him to paint his nails, shop at Claire’s and took him to movies like Candy Man. They went to his first concert together: Korn.
“I liked that I was like the kid that was different,” he said.
He listened to staples of the 1990s — Prince, Lil Kim, Madonna, Michael Jackson. But he also loved rock: Marilyn Manson, Smashing Pumpkins, David Bowie, the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
He felt it was more common for his white friends to like hip hop in St. Louis, where it was somewhat embedded in the culture, than for kids of color to like rock.
Condra grew up around a mix of races. St. Louis is 45 percent white and 47 percent black.
Burlington is 84 percent white and 5 percent black.
Condra explained that while St. Louis was segregated, his neighborhood was relatively diverse — including black families, white families and refugees from Vietnam, Bosnia and Eritrea.
He felt white people were more comfortable around him because he is biracial.
“It does allow you to hold space where other folks, who otherwise are your family members, couldn’t,” he said, such as his father, who is black.
Condra pointed out his hometown does not sit far from Ferguson, Missouri, where Michael Brown, an 18-year-old black man, was shot by a white police officer in 2014. However, he felt more at risk of homophobia than racism. He explained spaces available to LGBTQ+ members in St. Louis — like clubs — would likely not have been accessible to him since he was underage.
Condra moved north to attend Lyndon State College (which later merged with Johnson State College to form Northern Vermont University), where he studied psychology. He was excited to move to Vermont, which he perceived as relatively LGBTQ+ friendly. He was familiar with the northeast, visiting family in New Hampshire throughout his childhood.
When asked which aspect of his identity — race or sexuality — was harder for people to digest in Vermont, Condra knew his answer.
“The black one.”
Condra enjoys hiking when it’s warmer; grabbing food, at places like Gaku Ramen and Honey Road; and supporting local music. He and his boyfriend recently saw Julia Caesar at The Monkey House.
Condra doesn’t visit Missouri, but his mom comes to Vermont. He also sees his family in New Hampshire.
Looking back, he felt people perhaps tolerated rather than accepted him during college, realizing meeting someone could mean introducing them to the first person of color they’ve encountered. While Condra felt Vermonters are comfortable championing LGBTQ+ rights, he does not sense the same sentiment is always extended to race.
There was a point Condra considered leaving Vermont: He worked at a library for seven years and said people asked what his plan was. He questioned his trajectory, considering further education. He was always interested in fashion, arts and entertainment — and even took classes in accounting at the Community College of Vermont.
“But right now, I’m happy that my career path looks like social justice work,” he said.
We asked what being brown `n out meant to Condra.
“It means self-advocating a lot. It means not always being able to find someone to stand up for you and taking it upon yourself to claim your existence. It looks like — when you do finally find community — the best feeling ever.”
