Amplifying Queer & Trans history and the stories of Latinx & Afro-Latinx Gay | Queer | Trans | Bisexual Men & Bois
sanctuary is found on the dance floor. spirits are filled and pain is paused. last year’s attack at pulse night club in orlando, during latino night - was an attack on all of us who have ever feared loving openly in public.
today, we mourn the loss of 49 people. today, we speak their names.
today, we stand with all those who were and continue to be impacted by the pulse night club attack.
as pride month continues, remember to remember that PRIDE IS STILL POLITICAL and it is STILL NECESSARY! REMEMBER that we are NOT alone.
It is sorrow-heavy to count our losses and remember those who were ripped from us—in our collective memory—but we must not let their names go unspoken, because the defeat of memory through oppression and erasure will not encumber us. We shout their names, because they are beautiful, Black and their very existence: magical.
blessed are those who mother the children the world left alone to mind themselves. blessed are the queens who build a queendom for these children to survive and thrive. pepper labeija was both mother and queen and on this #mothersday weekend, we speak her name.
born on november 5, 1948 in the bronx, new york, pepper became the mother of the house of labeija (pronounced la-BAY-zha) in the 1982 after the founding mother, crystal labeija died.
under pepper’s leadership, the house continued to pave the way both drag and ballroom culture. the family structure that has long been the foundation of black and brown ballroom houses was created by the house of labeija and pepper played an integral part of this.
pepper and the house of labeija rose to mainstream prominence when they were featured in the 1990 documentary film, “paris is burning.”
pepper spent most of her life providing refuge for black and brown trans and queer young people during and after the height of the aids and crack epidemic. like many of the house mothers of her time, pepper helped to cultivate a space where black queer and trans people could live out their fantasies and those fantasies included a universe without homophobia, transphobia and racism.
on may 14, 2003, mother pepper labeija became an elder when she died of a heart attack at the age of 54.
in a new york times tribute printed on may 26, 2003, douglas martin wrote, “pepper was the last of the four great queens of modern harlem balls; angie xtravaganza, dorian corey and avis pendavis all died in recent years. these four exuded a sort of wild expressionism that might make las vegas girls seem tame.”
happy mother’s day, pepper! thank you for all of the new earths you helped to create when ours was burning down.
on this #MemorialDay, i am reminded of the 1988 “why we fight” speech given by queer rights and AIDS activist vito russo (july 11, 1946 – november 7, 1990) at ACT UP rallies.
may these selections serve as a reminder to those of us who were drafted into this war - we are not and we were never alone in our rage.
“Living with AIDS is like living through a war which is happening only for those people who happen to be in the trenches. Every time a shell explodes, you look around and you discover that you’ve lost more of your friends, but nobody else notices. It isn’t happening to them. They’re walking the streets as though we weren’t living through some sort of nightmare. And only you can hear the screams of the people who are dying and their cries for help. No one else seems to be noticing.
And it’s worse than a war, because during a war people are united in a shared experience. This war has not united us, it’s divided us. It’s separated those of us with AIDS and those of us who fight for people with AIDS from the rest of the population.
Someday, the AIDS crisis will be over. Remember that. And when that day comes — when that day has come and gone, there’ll be people alive on this earth — gay people and straight people, men and women, black and white, who will hear the story that once there was a terrible disease in this country and all over the world, and that a brave group of people stood up and fought and, in some cases, gave their lives, so that other people might live and be free.
And then after we kick the shit out of this disease, we are all gonna be alive to kick the shit out of this system so that this never happens again.”
Rest in power, Vito. You and millions of others would still be here had it not been for this government’s willful neglect and failure.
i grew up in costa rica, in a taiwanese family that migrated to costa rica in the late 70’s. growing up in costa rica was quite interesting because i was this asian person that didn’t feel like they belonged there. it was always this sense of otherness. children would always call me “chino” or “japonés” even though we were taiwanese.
in latin america there are these derogatory songs towards asians like “chino cochino” and “la china una china se perdió.” all these things, they used to sing to us and they made us feel like shit. my sister and i talk about it all the time. we hated it. so talking to other latin asians it helps - but then you add that layer of being queer.
i am sure you watched “selena”, right? when abraham tells selena and AB that its hard to be mexican-american in the US because they are not mexican enough for mexicans and they’re not american enough for americans. so i feel like i am always there. like when i go to taiwan to visit family, i’m not taiwanese enough, i’m always like the foreigner. when i’m in costa rica, i never feel ike i fully belong because i’m this asian person down there who eats “weird” things. here in the united states, i’m this asian with a spanish accent. there is a little bit of refuge hanging out with, there’s a group in the bay area called “latin asians of the bay area”, we used to be more active but we kinda dissolved a bit but it was nice to relate to other latin asians here in the US that were either born or raised or lived in the latin americas that kinda faced the issues we faced.
i had $300 and my backpack the year that i moved to the states. i was 17, it was really hard cuz it was not planned. i didn’t speak english every well. i lived with these two random gays guys that i knew from gay.com. at the time, one was 29 and the other 32 years old in baton rouge, lousinana. they took care of me. they taught me how to speak english, they taught me how to drive. so yeah, that was a tough year because i had to learn a lot. It was rough but thankfully, i made it and i’m here.
george, he/him/his
san francisco, ca.
interviewed & photographed by: louie a. ortiz-fonseca
By the time my 4th birthday came, June of 1994, I was already sure of who I was. Now not consciously, but naively. I was a tiny little being with a big imagination and little to worry about. My mom let me be exactly who I was.
Straight out of 94, Power Rangers was my jam! That was my show. My favorite characters were the Pink and Yellow rangers. I probably kicked and screamed for the cake I wanted, and my mom let me. Maybe the pink ranger was probably a little much for her, but at least I got the yellow one.
It would be in the following years to come that I would have the same love and obsessions for characters like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the the witches of Charmed.
I was diagnosed with HIV at age 19. I fuckin’ hated taking my meds. They made me feel absolutely terrible, but I knew I had to. The only thing that made the experience bearable was knowing that my HIV meds were in my body, decolonizing, slaying, and vanquishing the virus flowing freely in my blood.
I guess Iʼve always have an infinity for strong bad ass, ass kicking women. Just like the woman lighting the candles, my mother.
on may 6, 1989, puerto rican freestyle/pop singer, safire, peaked at #12 on the hot 100 and #4 on the AC chart with the ballad, “thinking of you.”
born wilma cosmé in san juan puerto rico and raised in east harlem, safire was one of the first freestyle solo artist to land a deal with a major record label after her first two independently released singles, “don’t break my heart” (1986) and “let me be the one” (1987). both singles helped to break freestyle music, then called “latin hip-hop” at pop radio in new york, chicago, los angeles and miami.
in the summer of 1988, safire released her self-titled debut album on polygram records. the lead single,“boy, i’ve been told,” penned by marc anthony, peaked at #48 on the hot 100 (an accomplishment for a dance song at the time) helped safire land the cover of the spin magazine, becoming the first latina artist to do so.
the follow-up single, “thinking of you”, would become her biggest hit to date across multiple formats. written by safire in memory of her uncle mario santiago who died of AIDS complications in 1984, “thinking” was a heartfelt remembrance of those lost during the onset of the epidemic.
the spanish translation of the song, “el recuerdo de ti”, translated by actor-singer ruben blades, was featured in a AIDS awareness public service announcement that aired on spanish language markets in both the US and across latin america.
in 1989, the number of U.S. reported AIDS cases reached 100,000. safire’s breakthrough hit also served as a breakthrough in HIV prevention messaging targeting latinxs during a period when targeted prevention messages were non-existent.
safire later received an ASCAP song writing award for “thinking.” she continued to record and perform but was not able to duplicate the success of “thinking.” 30 years later, we are still filled with gratitude that she used her platform to raise awareness about HIV. and because of her, her uncle mario santiago will never be forgotten.
Since last August, we have been working hard to make this Gran Varones Fellowship happen. When we launched Gran Varones on this date exactly five years ago, it has been our commitment to build power at the community level. It was this very commitment that inspired us to launch the Gran Varones Positive Digital Arts Fellowship.
Gran Varones was awarded a grant (our very first!) from ViiV Healthcare to launch a year-long (March 2019 – January 2020) national fellowship to develop the leadership of a cohort of six HIV positive Latinx Gay, Queer, Trans and Bisexual Men ages 21-35. This cohort of creatives will be supported with resources to combat HIV stigma and promote family acceptance in Latinx communities through digital storytelling, community building and cultural organizing.
Through an online application process, we received responses from brilliant applicants from all over the country. Narrowing the list down to six people was almost impossible. In fact, we were originally budgeted to select five fellows but decided on six because, well, why not?
We selected six brilliant creatives from just as many cities. We prioritized creatives who are new to the digital organizing and/or storytelling space. And after sharing time and space with them during our first of two convenings a few weeks ago, we are excited about all of the magic that they will be creating as individuals and as a cohort.
In addition to creating content for GV, each fellow will organize a community-based event. This will expand our commitment of building power through storytelling by making it even more accessible. These six fellows are going to create a new earth!
Here are the six Gran Varones Positive Digital Arts Fellowship:
Carlos Moreno (He/They) Los Angeles, CA
A Gemini in his 28th year of existence, Carlos is a proud Chicanx living his truth as an HIV Positive Queer person from Tucson, Arizona. A product of migration, this first generation being strives to make a helpful and lasting impact on the HIV/AIDS community, both globally and locally. He has stood alongside others in the fight against HIV/AIDS in prevention and as well as in care. Unscathed by stigma, He has navigated the last ten years of his life by reclaiming any animosity he’s faced and turned it into a therapeutic artistic expressions. A natural introvert himself, Carlos has struck chords with folks using simple imaging and messaging, leaving faces shocked, surprised, amused, or not in agreement, but definitely began a conversation. Carlos wants nothing more than for other Poz folk to join in on this ARTivism movement, share their experiences and connect with others so that we don’t all feel alone, especially Queer and Trans people of Color. It has been a dream of his to see there be space for distributing such products at events where other LGBTQ/Hetero/ HIV/AIDS information is being accessed. Carlos believes that it is important that people living with or affected by HIV/AIDS have access to the same empowering messages the HIV Negative and prevention communities do, that they are equally represented with pride and equity. Without a real push for some financial assistance, these items may only be limited to the creator and not have the opportunity to help inspire other Poz communities to flourish.
José A. Romero (He/They) Durham, NC
is an abolitionist organizer, immigrant defense strategist, and Poz Poet living in Durham, NC. The first in their bio-family born in the “US”, José is the descendant of working-class immigrants from Morazán, El Salvador and Michoacán, Mexico. Born in Washington State and raised between there and Michoacán, José’s political awakening arose while witnessing kindred femmes undo misogyny and while learning English to confront the borders their family endures. José moved to Philadelphia to attend the University of Pennsylvania where they were active in movements to confront anti-blackness/homophobia. In Durham they use their research background and direct-action experience to honor past, present, and future radical ancestors. Inspired by apocalypse and alchemy, José’s abolitionist organizing for black/brown flourishing includes work with Durham Beyond Policing, Durham’s Participatory Budgeting Steering Committee, and various immigrant/queer/trans defenders. They have worked on anti-deportation/sanctuary cases across NC and are a proud member of Southerner’s on New Ground working to end money bail, abolish ICE, and pleasurably undo anti-blackness in Latinx communities. José is currently Directing the first Latinx Southern Regional Health conference for the National Latino Commission on AIDS. They’re working on two collections of poetry titled ICEBREAKERSand POZITIVE. They are the host of an open mic series and queer friendship/dating party collectively called MELT. They make their money working at a queer punk bar, as an interpreter, and as a consultant. You can find/book them at @PupusaPapi_27 on Instagram and @RomeroFlux on Twitter. José dreams of curating an Arabic/Mandarin/Spanish exhibit/mixtape as well as opening and inviting y’all to a mobile Freedom School dedicated to astrobiology, pupusas, synesthesia, and uprising.
J. Aces Lira (He/Him/His) Chicago, IL
Aces Lira is an MSW/MA graduate student in Women Studies and Gender Studies at Loyola University Chicago. As a Research Assistant, he is based in the US Regional Network within the International Partnership for Queer Youth Resilience (INQYR) and is getting a foot in the door on all things research-related. Outside of the books, Aces orchestrates portraits along with art through different mediums and also lives for National Park excursions.
Marci Garcia (He/Him/His) Brownsville, TX
Sometimes life feels just like one of those theatrical plays or big screen movies; a bunch of dialogue, drama, adventure, tragedy and tears, and a lot of laughter and happy moments as well, all combined. My movie opens in Mexico, born and raised until the age of 10. I was a lucky boy that grew up in a very loving family; abuelos, tios, primos and my beautiful parents and brother always by my side. Still, I was a lonely kid. A kid that knew he was different and had a very a hard time fitting in, all the way through high school and college years. Never an obstacle to aspire to go out in the world and follow my dreams though. Today, I feel I am blessed and thankful to life for being different. I didn’t choose to be who I am, I just got lucky. Throughout my professional career I have wanted to find the place where I know I am not only getting a paycheck but also making a positive difference somehow. Again, through life’s unique way of arranging things I believe I have found that. I am currently part of an extraordinary non-profit organization whose goal is to provide sexual education, HIV prevention and wellness services to the community of South Texas. Being here truly inspires me to become more involved, gain knowledge and to help out combat the HIV stigma that is still out there. I know because I see it, I hear it, I live it. I believe I am working for this agency for a reason. I believe I am ready to accept and say who I am, what I am and what I aspire to become.
Dimetri O’Brien (He/Him/His) Washington, DC
Strategic, multidisciplinary designer & social media coordinator with a spirit for service & innovation born in Port of Spain Trinidad with roots in Jackson, MS . Dimetri has worked with a multitude of clients on projects ranging from graphic design to consultation & management and although his skill set is vast, his greatest expertise revolves in the worlds of programming for YMSM ages 18-29, social media, brand identity design, content creation and print collateral. Dimetri currently serves as a communications assistant in Washington, DC managing communications and branding for a national non-profit agency. His graphic design portfolio can be viewed at “dimmydoesit.com”
Raúl Xavier Ramos (He/Him/His/They/Them/Theirs) Brooklyn, NY
Raúl is a 26-year-old Boriqueer social justice organizer based out of Brooklyn, New York. Using graphic design and performance art as forms of accessible political education , Raúl is dedicated to the liberation of all queer and Gender Non-conforming people of color, persons with disabilities, and those that experience realities in ways the culture would call “mentally ill.” Healing justice is at the center of Raúl’s work, having become Poz at the turning point of his adult life. He is unapologetic in how he loves and in the ways he fights for justice.
As far back as I can remember, being a little kid in my bedroom, I would dance and put on little stage shows and lip-sync in the mirror before I even saw that on TV, ya know. I definitely grew up watching MTV and I was like a video baby where it was like, “whose music video is on TV?” Now they don’t play video on MTV. So when it was time to graduate high school, I was like, “Well, I need to go to college, what is that going to look like?” And I thought, “What do I want to do?” and I could never find clothes for myself, the way I envisioned them in my head, so I went to fashion school. Graduate Fashion School and I was working in the industry for a little bit, and I was till kinda bored and my soul always wanted to dance. One weekend I decided to go take a dance class and when I was done with that dance class, the instructor pulled me to side and he said, “Who’s your dance agent?” I was like, “What do you mean?” He was like, “You’re not signed?” I was like, “No, this is my first dance class.” He was like, “Oh my god. You did really well. You need to be doing this.”
I was doing fashion and then I was a back-dancer. I quit my job so that I could audition. I was booking a few commercials, coca-cola commercials, a few stage shows here and there, dancing back-up for some artists; I loved it but there something more calling me. One day, over Christmas break, I was in my kitchen and I just started spitting out lyrics and started writing them down. My first song, “Bangie Power”, came from that. I worked with a producer to come up with the song and I did a video for it; choreographed, styled it and I was like, “This is it!” I’m putting my fashion with my dance and what I have to say into this visual package. That’s when I found that I was home as an artist.
My first two performances, at Mustache Mondays and at Carnival, which is a Choreographers Ball, I knew that’s what I was to do. It was the easiest, effortless thing I could do. It was easier than just designing for another brand; it was easier than being a back-up dance and fitting in into a cast of like 10. Taking center stage, just expressing myself in all my authenticity, was the easiest thing for me to do that I was like, “I’m going to do this for the rest of my life.” No matter how hard it gets, no matter what I have to do, no matter how in debt I am, no matter where I’m living, who’s couch I’m crashing on, this is what I’m gonna do.
It’s that dream that I had when I was little kid. I would go to bed and dream of me being on this stage doing these elaborate performances that didn’t make sense then but now I’m like holy shit, I’m in my dream.
AB Soto, He/Him/His Los Angeles, CA
interviewed & photographed by: louie a. ortiz-fonseca
our hearts are heavy. just received the rebuke stating news that brayan has passed. i met brayan two years ago after he reached out expressing interest in sharing his story with the project. he drove over an hour to los angeles to meet with me. i am so grateful we shared time & space. the universe now exists without one of the sweetest and most gentle humans i have ever met.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month, so #KikiswithLouie engaged in an indepth conversation with Shamir, a young queer artist who sheds light on his experiences with his music career and mental health
psa. if we’re mutuals, we’re automatically friends. u don’t need to say things like “sorry to bother” or “sorry im annoying” bc ur not. ur my friend. u can come to me for anything. u need help? im here. wanna chat? hmu. just wanna gush abt your muse? go for it. we’re friends. ily.
miss-tries-way-too-hard
