History, Culture & Community Storytelling Through a Black Latinx Queer Lens
growing up, i never believed adults were god. i was always curious about their ways and their secret jokes like what “NEWPORT” really meant. i knew they were flawed beyond belief. i had my own lived experience to rely on as scientific data. but one of the things that made adults god-like for me was their ability to create tradition and space - a kind of utopia with beautiful rituals. my aunt carmen was one of those people.
for as long as i can remember, her house was the place to be on new year’s eve. i have many memories of my mother taking us to carmen’s. i’d wind up dancing to patti labelle’s “stir it up” to speaking in the middle of a song’s mid-section break - just the way marilyn mccoo did on “solid gold.” (google all those references).
when my mother moved to florida in the late 90s, carmen’s house became the place i went for thanksgiving. she became another mother. her daughters, my sisters. the day became another of our traditions. it was also the only all-family event i felt the most welcomed.
my aunt carmen mothered me in the absence of my own. when i suffered my first broken heart and broke down in her kitchen, she held me and promised that i would find love again. i did. when my brother nicholas died, she reminded me i was not alone. when i became a father, i’d take my son to her house for new year’s eve, just as my mother had taken me. i was now the adult keeping tradition. and this was all made possible because of the space she created decades ago.
my dear aunt carmen was the closest to a god of any person i met. she never talked shit about anyone. she was one of the few family members to believe me - EVEN when it was the hardest for her. she believed me.
my aunt became an ancestor in march 2020. when she died peacefully in her home. the same home she made me and countless others feel welcomed, loved, and wanted. the home that is and will forever be my template, my yardstick for safety.
thanksgiving dinner and new year’s eve are now held at her oldest daughter’s house. it is now our charge to continue create space for each other.
to my aunt carmen, the creator of eternal space, we miss you & thank you.
You know, just growing up and in that era of grandparents taking care of the grandkids, and the parent, you know, engaged in the street life. Im talking about the 90’s, the early 2000s. I had an amazing childhood. But then I had a troubling transition teen years because I had the addition of gender identity, with the struggle of a family trying to understand the difference between sexual orientation, which because of historical ignorance, didn’t know how to support me.
The first time I ever heard of HIV was it was in correlation to me and like my journey, but also like the realization that my uncle was living with HIV. I didn’t know it because I was a child. And so when I started to express who I was or how I felt, my family, jump straight to the “who I love’ kind of thing. It was like, “Let’s try to protect you is this disease” that people get “kind of mentality”.
I love my family down, you know, they didnt have the support. They also didnt have the the language. And stigma was really prevalent. I mean, as it is today. And worse back then.
I was like maybe 13 or 14 [years old], my first time learning that it really impacted my community as hard as it did is because when I came into the gayborhood, into the ballroom scene.
I came inthrough a House and I had a House mother and a House Father, and also how siblings who were experiencing this. We watched how our house mother and house father nurtured siblings back to hell, or healthier than when they were. As we assupporting them through their journey as they transitioned.
It reminds me of “Pose” That’s literally what it was like. One thing I did learn, too, is to stop apologizing when I take up too much space because, you know, our ancestors lost their lives so that we can be here today. So im offering up now more ‘ you welcomes” for me taking up the space because I am here. Im alive. 38 years old, a trans woman of color.
Our stories hold our truths. Share your experiences in the US Trans Survey so that our community is seen, heard, and honored: ustranssurvey.org
The US Trans Survey — live October 19 — November 21, 2022 — is conducted by the National Center for Transgender Equality, the nation’s leading social justice advocacy organization winning life-saving change for transgender people, in partnership with the National Black Trans Advocacy Coalition, the TransLatin@ Coalition, and the National Queer Asian Pacific Islander Alliance. The survey is conducted by a team of well-respected researchers, guided by a prestigious scientific advisory council who are experts in trans research.
Are you a Trans person of color? Let’s celebrate the beauty of our community by sharing your story at ustranssurvey.com
This #KikisWithLouie is dedicated to Nigel Shelby and all the LGBTQ youth of color like him who are facing harassment and bullying. LGBTQ youth of color deserve to lead safe and healthy lives in supportive and non-toxic environments. In the latest #KikisWithLouie, Louie returns to Philadelphia to discuss navigating stigma and harassment with young leaders at Galaei , a local queer Latinx social organization that sustained Louie when he was a teenager.
gran varones turns 5 this year and what better way to begin that celebration by announcing our first fellowship for hiv positive varones creatives.
the positive digital arts fellowship will work with 5 hiv positive latinx and afro-latinx men who identify as gay, queer, trans or bi. the fellowship will provide support and tools on creating digital content that challenges hiv stigma and promotes family acceptance.
for more information or to check out the application
as a kid in the early half of the the 1980′s, i’d watch as my mother and her gay friends shuffle through a crate of vinyl records to choose a song to dance to. one of those songs was “let the music play” any shannon. her friend, Josie, a black gay man who looked very similar to “leroy” from the 1980 film, “fame.” he would dance and lip-sync as we watched. i remember being so captivated by his presence and in complete awe by the sound of percussions and the hypnotic hook (which was sung by a white dude named jimi tunnell) of the song. i am sure that my musical pallet and my incessant need to lip-sync songs was and still is informed by these memories.
on february 1, 1984, shannon’s debut album “let the music play” was released. the success of the title track & the follow-up “give me tonight” were critical in the evolution of both dance and pop music.
today we celebrate the unsung dance icon, shannon!
by 1982, after the homophobic and racist driven disco backlash of 1979, dance music still struggled to garner play at pop radio. many uptempo songs, in an effort to not to be confused with “disco”, leaned more pop and r&b. high energy dance songs like sylvester’s “do you wanna funk” were regulated to dance clubs. particularly, black, latinx and queers clubs. mainstream audiences were still afraid of dance music. that would soon change with the release of afrika bambaataa’s “planet rock.”
released in 1982, “planet rock” was sonically unlike anything on heard on radio or the clubs. it was accompanied by songs electro-pop songs like jenny burton’s “one more shot” and “i remember what i like” and freeze’s “IOU. while these songs brought a more melodic yet harder sound to pop music, they did not crack the pop top 40.
in 1983, shannon auditioned for chris barbosa, a bronx raised Puerto rican who was experimenting with pop, dance and latin sounds. shannon landed the opportunity to sing the barbosa penned song entitled, “let the music play.”
“let the music play” became a massive cross-over hit peaking at #8 pop, #2 r&b and #1 dance. the song would also go on to become an international smash reaching top 20 in several countries.
shannon’s follow-up single was the equally slammin’, and in my opinion one of the greatest pop songs in history, “give me tonight.” the song would reach top spot on both the r&b and dance charts. while many consider “let the music play” as the song that gave birth to the freestyle genre, and in many ways that is true. however, there are elements in “give me tonight”, the glitchy iconic breaks, that many subsequent freestyle songs would successfully and unsuccessfully duplicate. i just think “give me tonight” is just a far superior song.
by the time shannon released “my heart’s divided”, her 3rd consecutive #1 dance record in the spring of 1984, no one knew what to call her sound. was it r&b? was it pop? was it dance? many in the industry just began to call it “the shannon sound.” i remember being a music loving kid calling songs by nolan thomas “yo little brother” and chaka khan’s “my love is alive”m the Shannon sound. kid calling songs the “shannon” sound. it was this sound that fellow dance legends Lisa Lisa and shannon would build on to create the sound that we now officially call freestyle.
shannon quickly followed up here debut album with the release of “do you wanna get away”, her 1985 sophomore album. by this time radio was now saturated with other “shannon” sounding songs. in an effort to separate herself from the pack, songs on “do you wanna get away” were a bit more poppy and not as dance oriented as her previous singles. the the title track, however, did give her another #1 on the dance/club chart and another top 20 r&b hit.
after the release of a few more singles and one more album, shannon asked to be released from her contract and took an extended break from performing.
in 1997, the dance music landscape had shifted. freestyle had long fallen out of favor and giving way to the house music dominance. but with shannon was still able to notch herself another #1 dance song with the release the Todd Terry produced “it’s over love.”
shannon is still out here doing her damn thing in 2019! i saw her perform live once as part of a freestyle ensemble concert. she was the opening act. she greeted the crowd w/, “look at what i helped to create. i did this!” she got a standing ovation.
yes, you created this miss shannon!
shannon’s “give me tonight” impact is still felt. miss aja kills this gawd damn performance by lip-syncing the best part of the song - the glitchy vocal break! lawd! this is how you honor a legend!
it has been two years since christopher collins left this world. he was 37 years old. he was my first love and for years, my only love. he was an integral part of hiv prevention youth program development in philadelphia.
we met in the mid 1990s. we were a part of a group of black & brown queer & trans youth who were minding themselves. we didn’t have many mentors as most of the adults in our lives were either dying, caring for the dying or traumatized by the impact hiv/aids had on our community.
we were kids building rome with bricks cemented by our commitment to fuckin’ exist without apologies and shame. we bought our first rainbow necklaces together. we imagined a world for us that was yet to be written about in the books we read but we still imagined.
we both worked in hiv non-profit. that shit drained us both of life and spirit. we built programs that we had no access to. we gave the world everything including our relationship.
chris and i would work together again in 2012. we facilitated a weekly youth group for black & brown trans & queer youth. we joked about all that we survived. we cried about how the work & movement sometimes does not love you back.
chris wanted the movement and work to love him back. some of us learn to breathe through straws under the weight of the world that tells us we are not enough, our love is not enough. and some of us choose to fly in a dimension where oxygen is not restricted. chris chose the latter.
chris, the loss of your spirit is felt by those of us who survived hiv prevention of the 1990s. it is felt by those of us who continue to (barely) survive the non-profit industrial complex. your loss is felt by everyone who thought this work would save us.
chris was my first love. he was my friend. he was one of the most important relationships i had in this work. i miss his laugh. i miss him. today, i raise him up.
rest well, chris.
if you are feeling alone and/struggling right now, remember that lifeline is here for you. call the national suicide prevention hotline at 1.800.273.TALK (8255)
whitney houston was a queer icon decades before the term became a marketing ploy. she was one of us before, during and after all of the rumors. confirmation was never required or desired from us - the gay boys who lip synced her songs when left alone in the room. we, the gay boys knew that the world would peck and pick it apart - the connection she had with us. the little gay boys.
i have distinct memories of singing “how will i know” as an 8 year-old for hours as i babysat for aunt janet while she out visiting her then boyfriend in prison. i remember knowing that “didn’t we almost have it all” was a song about loss and regret years before i experienced how polarizing that kind of pain can be. i remember a lot of my life in music and whitney’s voice is ever present.
i bought every album, every single. because that was my hobby. i memorized her every achievement because knowledge about divas was the only education i valued. when other boys talked about which football player scored the most touchdowns, i’d remind them that whitney held the record for the most consecutive #1 songs on the hot 100. SEVEN! and eleven total.
whitney houston was one of the most successful recording artists of all time. she is still regarded as the greatest vocalist of lifetime. all of these are undisputed facts. she was a singer, song writer, actor, producer, pioneer, icon and mother. and she paid the greatest of prices for her success. the queer icon who was simply because she existed, sacrificed everything so that her voice would reach little gay boys dancing in the dark.
whitney houston, the legend who was oh so human, died on february 11, 2012. i still remember where i was and what i was wearing. i remember the feelings of lost and regret. i remember thinking, “didn’t we almost have it all.”
there has been much conversation about whitney’s loves, feelings and all of the things she kept a secret. i have no opinion, really. i am grateful for the soundtrack she provided. and i am filled with gratitude that i got exist on this earth the same time to witness her greatness in real time.
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
Alex was an outgoing person. He was very funny, just very creative. He loved to decorate, he loved to do make-up. He loved to hook me up because I wasn’t very talented at doing hair and make-up and matching clothes. He was a very, very proud gay man. He was known all around the community for just being an artist. They took my brother’s life and all that we have to remember him is his art work and the memories we have of Alex Martinez.
My brother Alex was murdered in January of 2012. The case currently unsolved. He was walking with my nephew to the Chinese store to pick up some dinner when two guys approached him and attempted to take their stuff. And protecting my nephew, my brother Alexander was shot.
There’s video but it’s not clear. We want them to take it somewhere so that they can enhance it and they don’t wanna do that. They’re saying they don’t have the means to do it. What? Does my brother have to be a white straight guy for them to get justice for him? Is it because he is a gay man? Is it because he is Latino? Why is it that they won’t make that extra effort for my brother? I can’t be still until I get justice for my brother.
How Afro-Latinx Queer Non-Binary Artist is taking control of their Musical Destiny
The musical landscape has changed drastically since my days of buying cassette tapes and consuming music via BET’s Video Soul. Lawd, I still miss me some Donnie Simpson and Sherry Carter!
We now exist and thankfully so, during a period when artists can create art on their own terms and share it with their fan base and the world on their own terms. This has been the journey of Kareem. The Lancaster, Pennsylvania based Afro-Latinx Queer Non-Binary singer, songwriter, and producer, Kareem, who uses They/Them pronouns, is taking full advantage of how we consume music in 2018 while pushing the envelope of what is represented in music.
I met up with the magical Kareem a few weeks ago to talk about their journey, their healing and their new album, “Silhouette of a Black Queer.”
Louie: So when did you get the inkling that you could sing?
Kareem: I started singing when I was five and actually it was discovered by my aunt. She was a singer as well and I look up to her so much. She is a gospel singer. I grew up in the church and that is where I got my singing chops. One day in church, I was singing and mimicking her, just making fun of her and how she sang. I didn’t know that she was behind me. So I turned around and she was like, “What are you doing?” I thought I was in trouble but she took me to the youth pastor had me sing for him. That’s when I realized I had a gift.
Louie: Did that experience give you confidence?
Kareem: I was always very uncomfortable with it because I didn’t know what it was given to me for. Because I was very uncomfortable in my own skin, I was bullied a lot. I was told that I was ugly. I was told many things about myself. I had a low self-esteem. I was very depressed. I didn’t look at myself as worth anything or with any talent. It wasn’t until I broke up with my ex-boyfriend, who would say some nasty shit to me like “Kill yourself.”, that I really began to search for what I really wanted for myself and music was a way to cope with a lot of the feelings I was dealing with. I channeled all of it into music.
Louie: So your first EP, “Zesty: The EP” was released just a little over a year ago, 13 months to be exact, what was that like for you?
Kareem: I did the whole project on my iPhone 6. I didn’t have the resources so I was just like I am gonna utilize what I have and make something and it turned out to be better than what I expected. With this project, I talked about what it’s like to be an Afro-Boricua, non-binary. I talk about sexual assault. I talk about sexual liberation. I talk about stuff that is very important to me. A lot of the times when I was growing up, I was locked in this fuckin’ box and I had to conform t everybody else’s standard of what they wanted me to be. And I dealt with that in very unhealthy ways. But looking back, I see my growth. I appreciate who I am as a person. It has made me fall in love with my community more and more and has made we want to be more active and be somebody that can reach out and pull somebody out of that space.
Louie: Falling in love with ourselves can help to save our lives sometimes.
Kareem: I look in the mirror and I am very comfortable in my skin now. I will throw on a full lace front and pump out in public! I would have never imagined at 16 that I would be out here with full bundles! It feels great to out and actually be myself. I get looks and I don’t give a fuck. If you have a problem, I am right here! Come say something to me!
Louie: What has been the toughest part of your musical journey?
Kareem: I was in talks with Atlantic Records, that fell through because they tried to have too much control over me as an artist and they were trying to make me do things that were out of my morality and wanted me to stop doing the type of music that I wanted to do. We could not reach a middle a ground so they just x’ed it out and I was devastated because I thought that we could make something work.
Louie: Fun fact, I have a similar experience. Almost got signed to one of the largest Dance Music labels and walked away when they wanted me to be something I wasn’t. I’ll do a twitter thread about it one day. But that was in 1997 and back then, the thought of creating music on a phone seemed like science fiction. That’s why I love artists like yourself. You are manifesting your own destiny and that is fuckin’ inspiring.
Kareem: That makes me feel very good because I never saw myself being like this at all or doing anything like this. Having people rooting for me, I don’t take that for granted at all. It makes me feel good because I wanted to make music that was authentic, that expressed what I have experienced, what Black queer and trans people go through. I know what it’s like growing up and not seeing myself.
Louie: Is that what inspired the title of the album?
Kareem: It’s called “Silhouette of a Black Queer.” Knowing that there’s not enough representation but I also know that my experience may not be exactly like everyone else’s. We may have similarities. Two of the big things we have are, Blackness and we also have our queerness. So that why I call it Silhouette of a Black Queer. I came up with while I was at the club. I took a picture and I was like “what do I wanna caption this?” and it just came to me.
One of my favorite tracks on the album is a song called “Nasty Queer.” It is everything! I love it because I have never been free to able to talk like that. I did wonder, “What are my parents gonna think when they hear this shit?” But I gotta not worry about what people are gonna think and I gotta have fun.
Louie: If I was a recording artist my sound and visual would so be like Janet Jackson. That is because as a kid, she was the epitome of the perfect Popstar. Who was your “Janet” growing up?
Kareem: Beyoncé! But I get a lot of influences from Black women because they are the ones that I listened to when I was going through all my bullshit in high school and they grace me all my courage and they have been the ones to always root for me and I appreciate that so much. Black women have always been at the forefront of my success. My sister and my cousins have helped me to get to this point and I am always going to elevate and support them. Black women!
Louie: Is Beyoncé to you what Mariah is to me?
Kareem: Yes but I also gravitate toward different artists. There’s Phylis Hyman, Aretha Franklin, Patti LaBelle, Gladys Knight, Mariah Carey, Mary J. Blige, Toni Braxton, There are so many artists that I listened to, that I grew up on. Their music has stood the test o time and now I’m trying to pull from their sound – give me some of this, give me some of that and make it my own. And you hear those influences throughout the album.
Louie: I am so excited for you and excited to listen to the album.
Kareem: I am really happy about this project because it has taken many months and setbacks. I wrote every single song. I produced 80% of the album myself. The backing track of “Sprung” is produced by my 13-year-old Puerto Rican cousin who lives in New York. I remember going to visit him and he was like “let me play you some of my stuff” and I was like, “Oh shit! What the fuck!” I was like in a trance, I was like I need this, hand it over! I love seeing young people doing artistic stuff. Because for me, I suppressed a lot of that stuff because of my issues. If I knew that this could be an outlet earlier on in the game, I know I would have been further along. But I am good and getting to where I need to be. This is a good body of work. it covers a lot of things I advocate for and things that I am going through.
I feel like people are seeing a growth of me from the beginning of my career until now. I am actually very relaxed about releasing this album. I don’t have anything to critique about this. It’s perfect as it is.
“Silhouette of a Black Queer” is available on all music streaming sites.
Interviewed and Photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
