WHEN
IT
COMES
to
race,
myths
abound.
White
guys
can’t
dance.
Black
athletes
are
naturally
better
at
sports.
White
people
don’t
sing
the
blues
the
way
they
should
be
sung.
Black
folks
have
“rhythm.”
White
people
can’t
rap.
Black
men
are
much
more
prodigiously
endowed.
Whoa,
that
last
one
—
it’s
more
than
just
a
myth,
right?
For
sure,
it’s
got
to
be
true.
Well,
maybe.
And
maybe
not.
Scott
Poulson-Bryant
says
the
black-man-with-large-member
myth
isn’t
necessarily
so.
In
his
new
book
“Hung:
A
Meditation
on
the
Measure
of
Black
Men
in
America,”
he
examines
the
rumors,
the
truth,
and
how
and
why
the
sexuality
of
black
men
has
become
so
mythologized.
All
African
Americans
—
and
most
whites
—
are
familiar
with
the
famous
snapshots
of
lynched
black
men
hanging
from
trees,
surrounded
by
leering,
grinning
white
townspeople.
Poulson-Bryant
points
out
that,
at
times
in
American
history,
lynching
was
a
twisted
form
of
entertainment.
During
the
time
of
Jim
Crow
laws,
they
were
advertised
in
the
local
paper
as
community
events.
Lying,
stealing,
even
merely
looking
at
a
white
woman
was
justification
for
an
attack
on
a
black
man.
Poulson-Bryant
says
that
an
element
of
sex
was
usually
included
in
the
“reason.”
Those
men
were
hung
for
being
hung,
swinging
from
trees
because
of
what
was
supposedly
swinging
in
their
pants.
As
a
college
student,
Poulson-Bryant
began
to
think
about
how
black
men
measure
up.
One
night,
a
white
girl
took
him
back
to
her
apartment
for
sex,
under
the
incorrect
assumption
that
he
was
“bigger”
because
he
was
black.
After
being
“White-Girl-ed,”
Poulson-Bryant
remembered
something
his
cousin
had
said
when
they
were
children:
if
a
man
is
small,
he’s
not
a
man.
He
has
thought
long
and,
er,
hard
about
how
this
affects
his
life.
“I
don’t
want
to
be
the
stereotype,”
he
writes.
“I
don’t
want
to
be
Mister
Myth,
because
if
I
am,
then
I’m
just
a
dick;
the
big
dick
in
the
locker
room;
the
recipient
of
the
real,
live,
guy-on-guy
penis
envy
no
one
talks
about;
the
guy
white
boys
hate
yet
want
to
be;
the
brother
other
black
dudes
recognize
as
representative
of
their
gender;
the
stone-cold
stud
with
a
dick
of
doom…[But]
let’s
be
real
here:
Who
doesn’t
want
to
have
the
biggest
dick
in
the
room?”
SO,
BLACK,
WHITE,
or
Asian,
how
does
a
man
know
whether
or
not
he
“measures
up?”
Scientifically,
Poulson-Bryant
cites
the
Journal
of
Research
in
Personality
that
found
Asian
men
to
be
slightly
smaller
than
white
men,
who
are
slightly
smaller
than
black
men
in
size.
Poulson-Bryant
tells
the
story
of
one
of
his
gay
friends
who,
despite
his
inability
to
“perform”
one
particular
night,
was
asked
to
stay
at
a
party
because
of
his
physical
attributes.
This
makes
him
wonder
if
James
Baldwin
was
correct
when
he
wrote
“its
color
was
its
size”.
Which
leads
to
the
big
question:
Does
size
truly
matter?
It
appears
that
most
men
want
to
be
able
to
brag
about
their
own
bigger-is-better,
but
most
women
who
are
interviewed
agreed
that
size
isn’t
important,
as
long
as
a
man
knows
what
to
do
with
it.
One
gay
model-cum-hustler
said
that
smaller
was
better.
Interestingly
enough,
Poulson-Bryant
talked
to
at
least
one
black
man
who
says
that
his
extra-large
endowment
is
an
embarrassment,
one
that
he
takes
care
to
hide
in
the
locker
room.
By
weaving
history,
culture,
film,
music,
and
sports
in
with
personal
stories
and
observations
from
women
and
men
both
gay
and
straight,
Poulson-Bryant,
a
founding
editor
of
Vibe
magazine
and
successful
music
journalist,
turns
this
myth
into
quite
an
astonishing
book.
He
isn’t
afraid
to
expose
himself
in
more
ways
than
one,
and
his
wit
and
honesty
only
amplify
the
subject
matter.
There
are
very
few
hard-and-fast
answers
within
this
book,
and
not
much
that
settles
the
question
of
whether
the
stereotype
has
any
basis
in
truth
or
not,
but
his
ruminations
will
make
you
think
about
race
and
sexuality
in
a
whole
new
way.
Considering
the
unusual
subject
matter,
“Hung”
definitely
measures
up.
