By Dr. Phillip J. Roundtree

Jacen Bowman knows what it means to fight for love—beginning with himself. The lessons he has learned about self-love are the foundation for how he loves others today.

This activist, leader, and advocate channels his awareness into his work on behalf of intentionally marginalized communities, particularly LGBTQIA+ individuals, to ensure their visibility, amplify their voices, and validate their experiences.

Jacen’s journey to self-acceptance, community activism, and a thriving career in cosmetics wasn’t linear—it was forged through trials and tribulations, resilience, and vulnerability. It was a commitment to show up for himself in ways he hadn’t before. His struggles with self-love became a pivotal turning point in his life, shaping how he saw love, compassion, and his place in the world. As Jacen put it, “There were many times when I didn’t love myself. And if I can’t love me… I can’t truly love others.”

To understand the importance of self-love and inner strength, Jacen didn’t need to look outside his home for a muse—he had his mother, Patricia Gordon.

Patricia was Jacen’s blueprint for resilience. Born with spina bifida, she wasn’t expected to walk, live past 14, or have children, but she defied limitations. Patricia’s first defiant act was – on a whim – shedding her walking braces. Jacen recounted the story passed down to him by his grandmother: “She was cooking at the stove, and my grandma would say, ‘Where are your braces? You’re going to fall.’ But my mom just said, ‘No, I’m not,’ and started walking. Everyone was amazed.”

For Jacen, his mother’s experiences were a masterclass in self-love. She’d give a lesson in acceptance, coloring how he saw love, compassion, and the world around him. Jacen identifies openly as a Black gay man, and upon reflection, he’s known his identity since his earliest memories. “I always believed I never really had a closet… I was born gay.”

Speculation about his identity reached an apex when, for prom, he wore a bright red suit with platinum-dyed hair—an homage to Sisqo. Recounting the story, amused, he remembers how his grandmother inquired about his sexuality. It wasn’t until he introduced his boyfriend to his family that he invited them into his identity. Often a defining and traumatic moment for queer Black boys and men, Jacen praised his mother for the process: “I got so much love and acceptance from my mom.”

Outside of the home, however, Jacen experienced stigma during his childhood. Because of it, he wasn’t ready to allow the world in. It would take humbling life experiences, maturation, and mentorship to understand his individual and community power: as writer and ancestor Toni Cade Bambara describes in her novel The Salt Eaters, Jacen wasn’t done “playing in the mud.” For Bowman, “playing in the mud” included homelessness—couch surfing due to pride—and incarceration from misplaced loyalty.

On the streets of Philly, Jacen found community in spaces like The Attic Youth Center (AYC) and COLOURS, lifelines for LGBTQIA+ people. In these safe spaces, Jacen found his chosen family—Black queer men like Mann Prodigy, Michael Hinson, Damon Hughes, Darryl Brown, and Tyrone Smith, who saw his worth and made sure he did, too. “[They] told me I wasn’t going to be a statistic. They helped me build brick walls when I ran into them—and then even gave me ladders to climb over those walls so I could see the rainbow on the other side.”

Jacen ran into his share of obstacles, most notably an arrest for shoplifting and a situation where loyalty trumped his well-being, resulting in another arrest. Though the charges were dropped, sitting in a cell, he realized he’d never reach his potential without changing his circle. “If you’re destined for something greater, you have to walk away and close those doors,” Jacen expressed. He chose to go all-in on a healthier path forged through his determination and supported by his chosen family.

“The key [was] to get started,” he said. “I was part of the problem until I got up and started working to change things.” For Jacen, that meant showing up—on the ground and in politics—building relationships with elected officials and understanding policy’s impact on his community.

Immersing himself in makeup, he became his own canvas. Jacen’s passion for beauty was shaped by his Aunt Yolanda, who styled his mother’s hair in their kitchen, along with the ballroom scene, and trans women like Nikki Dupree, Sinia Ebony, and Kerri Mizrahi. Through persistence and stints at cosmetology schools, he eventually landed a coveted role at MAC Cosmetics. His commitment, skill set, and strong relationships with customers at MAC made him the region’s highest seller at nearly a million dollars in sales in a calendar year. Despite record-breaking sales, his legal history impeded promotional progress.

Feeling stifled, career-wise and creatively, Jacen embarked on an entrepreneurial journey and created Shades of Jacen LLC, a company with an international clientele. In 2021, his talents earned him Philadelphia Magazine’s Best Makeup Artist, stamping him as a beauty authority and trailblazer in the world of cosmetology. Simultaneously, Jacen worked tirelessly to ensure representation of the Black LGBTQIA+ experience from Philly’s Gay Pride weekend to the political realm. 

Jacen’s advocacy began in high school as president of the human relations committee. Today, he’s the VP of Philadelphia Black Pride, an organization that offers year-round support and services for LGBTQIA+ people of color and ensures their visibility across the city. Jacen spoke on his history of advocacy: “I always advocated for people—both for myself and for others—and I constantly put others first because I realized I didn’t see enough people like me around.”

Jacen’s mission is to help shape the next generation of leaders, as his mentors shaped him. He recognizes the urgency of authentic representation in leadership to combat systemic inequalities, stating, “…representation is absolutely necessary if we’re going to fight this machine.”

Jacen uses his journey to self-love as a compass and cautionary tale to empower others in these spaces. His humility and vulnerability allow him to be a safe space for those taking the road less traveled to self-discovery. For him, molding the next generation means ensuring their survival: addressing stigmas around sexual health and self-destruction, which remain taboo in the LGBTQIA+ community. “I got so tired of burying my friends. I’ve been to more funerals than graduations and [realized] this work was necessary.” He continues, “I just got numb to death, and that numbness is something no one should have to experience.” 

Jacen Bowman’s legacy is clear—he’s a leader, mentor, and a safe space, forging paths in arenas that shun melanated people. He challenges us to rise, set aside our egos, and engage in community work that is authentic to us. 

He’s unsure how he’ll be remembered. “I never really sat with that thought long enough to define it.” After reflection, he offers, “I view legacy not as something to leave behind—it lives within people. By letting go of my ego and connecting with my true self, I create magic, inspire change, and make a difference.”