ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book was made possible by a community that believed in bringing Lorraine into greater view. I am especially grateful to my amazing editor, Gayatri Patnaik; editorial assistant Molly Velasquez; and the entire Beacon Press community. Elleza Kelly was the research assistant of my dreams. Steven Fullwood and Alexsandra Mitchell provided indispensable support and guidance with the Lorraine Hansberry Collections at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. The students in my Lorraine Hansberry 20th Century Master Course—Destiny Crockett, Nicky Steidel, Imani Ford, Imani Thornton, Alana Clark, Abigail Jean Baptiste, and Jennifer Bunkley—inspired me with their diligent study and active imaginations. Brilliant documentarian Tracy Strain and her crew gave me abundant information and encouragement and meaningful camaraderie. At a fortuitous meeting with the premier Hansberry scholar Margaret Wilkerson in the Bay Area, she gave me insight and encouragement, and that meant a great deal to me. The great Beverly Guy-Sheftall, a beacon and guide in Black feminist study, opened doors and shared important stories and details. My dear friend Theo Davis and the community of the Mahindra Center at Harvard were wonderful discussants as I wrote. My friend Ashon Crawley helped me distill the essence of Lorraine over hundreds of text messages and meditations on soul searching. My friends Michele Alexandre and Simone White held me down and lifted me up the many times the vagaries of life threatened to take me away from my calling. All of my friends listened and encouraged, especially Kathy Van Cleve, Farah Griffin, Regina Bradley, Tarana Burke, Darnell Moore, Shantrelle Lewis, and Robert Garland.

And as always, being a part of my wonderful community in the African American Studies Department at Princeton facilitated and nurtured this project. I am especially grateful for my writing partner and interlocutor, Eddie S. Glaude Jr.; my Northwest Philly community café buddy and fellow Black feminist socialist, Keeanga-Yamatta Taylor; and the ever-organized, supportive, and delightful Dionne Worthy.

My family is always with me as I study and write. I attempt to honor my extended family and the legacy of our matriarch, Neida Garner Perry, in every effort. Throughout the book-writing process the guidance and support of my mother, Theresa Perry, was essential. My sons, Freeman Diallo Rabb and Issa Garner Rabb, who are gorgeous beings in every way, believe in my work and the importance of effort, craft, ideas, and art. That keeps me writing. My late father, Steve Whitman, gifted me with his love for Lorraine. What a gift!

Finally, this is a labor of love offered with gratitude to the many, the people whom Lorraine loved and I love, our people. In particular, I am indebted to the long genealogy of “Black queer genius,” to riff on Steven Fullwood’s book title and subject. Against all odds, facing enormous obstacles, Black queer genius has been sustained on pages, on stages, canvases and testimonies, ballrooms and battlefields, scores and clubs, indoors and out in the streets. Queer contributions to the tradition of Black thought and art are immense and essential. It is now time to bring Black queer work and stories from the margins to the center.