"...the way showers..." so glad you found/ have begun to find way-showers in these tense days! As a same gender loving PanAfrican American male, I can attest to the unique shunning that Black folks practice that hurts / wounds far deeper ( in my experience) than what pink-skinned folk dish out. At 64, it also reappeared with ferousity as of March 23, 2016, the day we buried my mother's remains. I came 'back home' to Los Angeles, my two heterodox brothers head home northwest and southeast. No one on either side of my family knows how to use a cell phone, use texts, voicemails, or other means of staying in touch. My mother was apparently the only reason anyone "gave" me the time of day. Ironically, or not, as a survivor of two attempted poisonings (to compel me to surrender a rent-controlled unit) COVID-19 lockdown remains a nightmare that only my writing and a close circle of 99% straight male and female friends and fictive kin have been vital in helping me survive "thus far along the way."