Tyrone Smith, longtime leader and activist, recently passed away after decades of advocacy as a champion for the Black, LGBTQ+ community in Philadelphia. Smith founded and supported various organizations that addressed disparities felt by the most marginalized LGBTQ+ and Black community members — including the Black Gay Men’s Leadership Council in Philadelphia and UNITY, Inc.
His efforts often emphasized the need to empower the most marginalized — ensuring they were a meaningful presence in discussions and leadership. Smith was a member of Penn’s CFAR Community Advisory Board and was a vocal participant in various other HIV/AIDS organizations and health initiatives. Even his more casual meet-ups — like the parties he hosted in the 1960s that evolved into today’s Philly Black Pride — had a profound impact on the queer community.
“Tyrone Smith was a trailblazer, and I knew that from the day I met him as an activist with ACT UP,” said Councilmember Rue Landau. “He forever changed the landscape for Philadelphia’s LGBTQ+ community when he co-founded Unity, Inc., a grassroots organization for Black, gay men that was among the first to address HIV and AIDS.”
“Tyrone built bridges where none existed and created spaces of empowerment where they were most needed,” she continued. “I was honored to recognize his work with the Living Legacy Award at my first annual LGBTQ+ Hall of Fame Awards in December last year and look forward to honoring his legacy in city council soon.”
Over a dozen people mourning Smith reached out to PGN to remember their friend, colleague and mentor as someone who never cared about status and didn’t treat activism as a hobby or a job. It’s just who he was.
A black-and-white photo shows young Kenny Bullock — eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as though he’s sleeping — resting peacefully on the shoulder of Tyrone Smith in an embrace. The image is the subject of an oral narrative Smith shared with I’m from Driftwood, a queer and trans story archive, in 2012.
“This young man transformed my life,” Smith said in the video, noting that he supported Bullock, a local bartender, when he was diagnosed with AIDS.
“I really was never an activist…” he said. “I mean — issues, unless they affected me, I didn’t give a damn. But because of me interacting with him, seeing the struggles in others that they had to go through, [that] has made me the activist that I am today.”
David Fair, remembering the same photo — his favorite of Smith — said the image is a perfect representation of his life: “He spent a lot of time taking care of individual people those days. At that time, everybody was leaning on Tyrone for help.”
Fair was introduced to Smith during a time when the white, gay community was receiving most of the attention — and funding — for HIV/AIDS work. They collaborated to establish funding for Black and Latinx communities through Bebashi and Esperanza in the early 1980s.
“That led to a 40-year relationship where we worked in tandem around issues of AIDS in the Black community,” Fair said. “I think there’s probably nobody in the city who has had a more dramatic impact on preventing AIDS in the Black, gay community — and the Black community generally — than Tyrone.”
“We mentored each other,” Fair explained, noting that Fair helped Smith learn to work within systems as an advocate as Fair learned to be more immersed in the lives of the people he advocated for — “not just to know them — but to hold their hands, to be there with them when they were struggling.”
“What Tyrone taught me was that we have no choice but to be advocates and caretakers at the same time,” Fair said.
Smith was a tangible presence as an advocate, Fair explained — “harassing” attendants so HIV patients would be cleaned, fed, or otherwise properly cared for during a time when they were neglected and mistreated.
Fair said Smith tried to create change at the institution level, “But he was there to wipe your ass if you needed that too — which was not something that the typical AIDS activist was doing.”
“What’s different about Tyrone is that he naturally fit into both of those roles,” Fair continued. “He never thought of himself as a caretaker. He never thought of himself as an advocate. He was just a person living his life and interacting with the people who showed up in his life.”
Winslow Mason met Smith while working as a journalist for the Philadelphia Tribune after publishing an article that asked, “Do Black gay men leave the struggle for their people to take up the struggle for their sexuality?” Smith read it and responded. A relationship unfolded over time as Mason learned Smith’s life itself was as an answer to the question — embodying the Black, queer experience of “both/and” rather than a segmenting or abandoning parts of himself.
Mason later named Smith a “leader to watch,” acknowledging his commitment to the entire Black community.
“He was very committed to doing the work in Black communities as himself — never denying who he was, never putting that on a back burner to come and receive the respect from community,” said filmmaker and writer Aishah Shahidah Simmons about Smith, who modeled for her how to show up in the world without erasing aspects of personal identity.
Although Smith was her mentor, Simmons said they interacted as peers too — growing together as they both aged into their lives and advocacy. He was someone she felt comfortable “calling in” when he needed to learn, and he listened to her guidance. She’s learned from his accessible and approachable nature as she begins to mentor younger generations.
“He was a mentor to so many,” Simmons said. “And he had a gift of making everybody feel special who was in his life.”
Kevin Jones, founder of the Black LGBT Archivists Society of Philadelphia, said Smith would walk with him through the Gayborhood — sharing histories and stories as they wandered. Jones said Smith, who didn’t use a cell phone, was sometimes hard to track down — but those who wanted to find him knew where to look. That slow-paced, old-fashioned way of navigating time and space was a respite for LGBTQ+ younger people who knew Smith.
“He also gave me an example of what I could be,” Jones said. “That I too could grow older and continue to be vibrant, that could give to my community, that I could stay faithful to my reality and my faith and my family.”
Jones, who didn’t have grandfathers, said Smith became a father figure for him and many other young, Black gay men — teaching them about self-care, reminding them to go to the doctor, and ready to share homemade meals from his satchel.
His favorite image of Smith is a portrait titled “Misc. Tyrone” by Barkley L. Hendricks that depicts him in recognizable overalls looking straight into the eyes of the viewer with that satchel tucked under his arm.
He and many others said Smith will live on as an “inner voice.”
“He was a tremendous nurturer of other leaders of all generations,” said Chris Bartlett, executive director of William Way LGBT Community Center — an elder in the community today who met Smith when he was just 24.
He described Smith as wise, playful and loving — someone you could trust would greet others with a warm welcome and curiosity.
Bartlett was one of the many LGBTQ+ leaders Smith would regularly bring a bag of epsom salts with a reminder to slow down and relax with a bath. Bartlett said he plans to continue the tradition to show that someone still cares and offer the kind of extra attention that used to come from Smith.
Smith, who was a deeply religious and spiritual person, shared his spirituality with Bartlett and others — not in an attempt to convert but to help them adapt practices for wellness and resistance. This taught Bartlett that faith can be a powerful resource offering resilience and connection and opened his mind about the role religion can play in community organizing.
He also underlined that Smith — who remembered a time when Black LGBTQ+ people were chased out of the Gayborhood — had the unique ability to reach across invisible boundaries that often separate people from one another, like class, race, age, gender, and sexuality, to form relationships that helped intersecting communities progress.
“He spoke in a way that people listened and he appealed to not only their intellect, but to their emotions and to their sense of goodness,” he said. “And I think, more than ever, we need voices like that.”
Michael Simmons, an international human rights and peace activist, said that Smith could cut through “isms” without arguing or proselytizing — often showing those who disagreed with him their errors in judgment through his profound kindness instead. This helped him find a path around differences to build allies and coalitions of joined forces.
Tyrell Brown, executive director of Galaei, said their relationship with Smith reminds them of what it means to live in solidarity with others. It requires people to truly see each other as people before they can be authentic partners in advocacy work or justice movements.
Brown noted that Smith had a bit of an omnipresence which was reassuring. Visits together often felt calming and restorative.
“He was just very much concerned about you,” Brown underlined about the way Smith saw the humanity in people.
“Sometimes queer elders are invisible and forgotten. You haven’t forgotten, and you see us,” Smith once said to Brown. “We have wisdom, and you listen.”
Now is time, Brown said, to intentionally pursue connections queer elders — and to lift up the words and visions of Smith and others who have come before us as tools to help navigate the challenges to come.
“You really have to know your history to know your future,” said Sheila Alexander-Reid of the Philadelphia Convention and Visitors Bureau, who featured Smith in a Pride video that explored Giovanni’s Room.
“The remarkable thing about Tyrone is that he was out and proud when it was not safe to do so,” she said — noting that unfortunately, young people today are faced with similar risks. “It was important that he be visible, because there’s a whole nother generation that needs that knowledge, that needs that support, that needs that inspiration — because they’re getting ready to go through it themselves.”