September 17: Billy Strayhorn — Black, Gay, Gifted & Changing the Sound of America
🏳️🌈 THIS DAY IN LGBTQ+ HISTORY
Some people make history standing behind a microphone. Others make history writing the music the person holding the microphone performs. September 17 belongs to one of those creative forces. Billy Strayhorn was a Black gay composer, pianist, lyricist and arranger whose music became deeply connected to the sound of one of America's greatest jazz orchestras. Yet for many years, the name most people recognized wasn't Strayhorn's. It was Duke Ellington's. That makes Strayhorn's story especially important when discussing LGBTQ+ history, because sometimes the people who transform culture aren't necessarily the people history places in the brightest spotlight.
William Thomas “Billy” Strayhorn was born September 17, 1915, in Dayton, Ohio, and spent much of his youth in Pittsburgh. Music became central to his life early. Strayhorn studied classical music and developed extraordinary skills as a pianist, composer and arranger. But he was coming of age as a Black man in an America where racial segregation shaped nearly every professional opportunity available to him. Classical music offered limited pathways for Black musicians, regardless of talent. Strayhorn eventually turned more of his attention toward jazz and popular music, setting the stage for a partnership that would help shape American music.
In 1938, Strayhorn met Duke Ellington, beginning one of jazz history's most significant creative collaborations. Strayhorn joined Ellington's organization soon afterward and spent nearly three decades composing, arranging and collaborating with him. His fingerprints can be found throughout the Ellington orchestra's sound. One of Strayhorn's best-known compositions, “Take the ‘A’ Train,” became the Duke Ellington Orchestra's signature tune and eventually one of the most recognizable compositions in jazz.
But Strayhorn wasn't simply an employee standing behind a famous bandleader. His musical sophistication became an essential part of the Ellington sound. The two men developed a creative relationship in which their musical ideas became deeply intertwined. Ellington publicly acknowledged Strayhorn's extraordinary abilities, while musicians who worked with them understood just how important Strayhorn was to the orchestra.
That alone would make Billy Strayhorn historically important.
But there was another part of his identity that makes his story especially meaningful to LGBTQ+ history.
Billy Strayhorn was openly gay.
Think about the period we're discussing. Strayhorn was building his career during the 1930s, 1940s, 1950s and 1960s. This was decades before marriage equality, decades before modern Pride celebrations and years before the Stonewall uprising became a defining moment of gay liberation. Homosexuality could lead to arrest, employment discrimination, public humiliation and rejection. Yet people who knew Strayhorn understood that he was gay, and historical accounts describe him as unusually open about his sexuality for a man living during that period.
That visibility becomes even more significant when race is added to the picture. Strayhorn wasn't navigating only homophobia. He was a Black gay man working in an America structured by racial segregation and discrimination. The spaces available to Black musicians were already restricted. Being gay added another layer to a life lived outside what mainstream America considered acceptable.
And still, he created.
He composed.
He arranged.
He played.
He loved.
He helped change American music.
That is why Black LGBTQ+ history matters. When we look backward, it's easy to imagine that Black gay people suddenly appeared during the modern LGBTQ+ movement. We didn't. Black LGBTQ+ people were already inside America's cultural movements, creating art and influencing society even when the language used to describe our identities was different and public visibility carried enormous risks.
Strayhorn also understood that racial equality mattered beyond the music industry. He became involved with the broader civil-rights struggle and supported efforts challenging racial injustice. His music intersected with that activism as well. Strayhorn arranged and composed material connected to Ellington's “My People,” a 1963 stage production celebrating Black history, culture and achievement during the centennial of the Emancipation Proclamation.
His life therefore refuses to fit into only one category. Billy Strayhorn was Black. He was gay. He was an artist. He was an intellectual. He was a composer. He was part of the civil-rights generation. None of those identities cancels out the others.
They all belonged to the same man.
That is an important lesson when discussing Black LGBTQ+ trailblazers. Too often, history separates people into categories. Someone gets placed in Black history while their LGBTQ+ identity disappears. Another person gets placed in LGBTQ+ history while their race becomes a footnote. But people don't actually live their lives in separate chapters.
Black LGBTQ+ history lives at the intersection.
Strayhorn wasn't the only Black LGBTQ+ creative force shaping American culture during the twentieth century. Artists and writers including Langston Hughes, Alain Locke, James Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry, Audre Lorde, Alvin Ailey, Sylvester and Essex Hemphill each contributed to American culture while navigating sexuality, race, gender or expectations surrounding identity in different ways. Their individual relationships to identity and labels weren't identical, and historical figures shouldn't automatically be forced into today's terminology. What their stories collectively demonstrate, however, is that queer Black creativity has been woven throughout American culture for generations.
Some of the music people danced to was created by us.
Some of the books people studied were written by us.
Some of the movements people celebrate were organized by us.
Some of the art America calls iconic came from us.
And sometimes the world celebrated the creation without fully acknowledging the LGBTQ+ person behind it.
Billy Strayhorn died from esophageal cancer in 1967 at only 51 years old, but his music continued traveling long after his death. “Take the ‘A’ Train,” “Lush Life,” “Chelsea Bridge” and other compositions remain part of his musical legacy. His work has been studied, performed and rediscovered by generations of musicians, historians and jazz lovers.
His story also raises an important question about how history remembers creative partnerships. Fame doesn't always tell us who contributed what. Sometimes one person's name becomes the brand while another person's brilliance operates behind it. Learning about Strayhorn doesn't diminish Duke Ellington's greatness. Instead, it gives us a fuller understanding of how that extraordinary body of music was created.
And that is exactly what LGBTQ+ history should do.
It shouldn't erase other history.
It should complete it.
When we uncover the LGBTQ+ people who were already present in music, literature, politics, religion, business, activism and everyday life, we aren't rewriting history. We are restoring people who were too often edited out of the version we were originally taught.
Billy Strayhorn deserves his place in that history.
Not simply because he was gay.
Not simply because he was Black.
And not simply because he worked with Duke Ellington.
He deserves recognition because Billy Strayhorn was brilliant.
He was a Black gay man whose creativity helped shape the soundtrack of America during an era when America wasn't prepared to fully embrace everything he was.
And he created anyway.
Before Black LGBTQ+ representation became mainstream, WE WERE CREATING CULTURE.
Before Pride flags hung outside corporations, WE WERE MAKING MUSIC.
Before openly gay Black celebrities became more visible, WE WERE ALREADY IN THE ROOM.
Before America learned how to celebrate Black queer creativity, BLACK QUEER PEOPLE WERE ALREADY HELPING CREATE AMERICAN CULTURE.
September 17 is a reminder to look behind the famous names, behind the credits and behind the stories we were taught. Sometimes another history is sitting there waiting to be heard.
And sometimes it sounds like jazz.
🏳️🌈 Know the history. Say their names. Honor Black LGBTQ+ brilliance. Preserve the legacy. Keep building the future.
I AM ME INC.
This Day in LGBTQ+ History is presented by I Am Me Inc. as part of our commitment to informing, empowering, connecting and celebrating LGBTQ+ people and our Allies.
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Our History. Our Voices. Our Legacy.
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