The Gran Varones is a legacy project that uses video and photography to tell the stories of Latino & Afro-Latino Gay, Queer and Trans men. Our stories shine light on what being “out” and “proud” means to us, our families, and our communities.
“i never thought i’d make it here.” when felix stated that one sentence
during his interview, i was floored. not because it was sad but rather
because it is a truth about me that i didn’t know put into words or
maybe was too afraid to say out loud. he held up a mirror to me and i
was left transformed. thank you felix for being so damn wonderful and
courageous. thank you for supporting this project. thank you for
existing.
this past june, we began our GoFundMe campaign. our goal was to raise
$1000 to purchase 200 shirts to give one for every varon that participated.
while we did not “reach” our goal (in
terms of money), we reached so much more.
we raised a total of $799, enough to get 145 shirts! this
guarantees that the 100 varones we have interviewed and/or photographed so far
will get a shirt - for free! we could not have achieved this without you and
your generous support.
yesterday, we attended outfest in philadelphia and walked around
with 3 tote bags to personally deliver shirts away to varones. we walked and
walked until our arms hurt and trust me – bags of shirts will do that to you!
lol this direct community engagement provided an opportunity for varones to
meet other varones. it was another reminder and declaration that only WE can
build the community that we need.
in the coming weeks, we will mail, set-up pick sights and
personally deliver shirts until every varòn receives one. once all varones have
received their shirts, we will be sending shirts to our donors.
thank you again for your support in our vision and in our
community.
Louie: Describe the moment you know unequivocally that you were gay?
Adrian: My family used to go to the mall a lot when I was little. I realized I was staring into the Abercrombie window more than the Victoria’s Secret window. And then the men and not the women who were passing by us. I knew I liked boys and the way they made me feel. I was probably 10.
Louie: We have met several varones who have recently been diagnosed, all of them while in the hospital. Many of them are afraid of the stigma that they will unfortunately and inevitably experience. What would you want them to know about the journey of living with HIV?
Adrian: I’d want them to know that they’re not alone. When I went to my first conference (USCA2014) only a few months after I was diagnosed, I saw this huge community. I’m not talking about the pharmaceutical reps and doctors. I’m talking about the advocates. People that were where I was. People my age. Latinx people. Like, I was very fortunate to have a support system. And that’s part of why I got into this work. I want to be there for that person that might not have anyone. Because I get it. I know how uncomfortable that hospital bed is. And I know how scary it is to disclose to someone for the first time. Can we start a big sibling project for newly diagnosed folks? Lol
Louie: Who is the person that got you through your most difficult time?
Adrian: Oh man, my mama. She’s the MVP, almost literally ride or die. When I collapsed she got me into the car and drove me to the hospital. She hates driving at night. She refused to leave my side in the hospital. She’s literally the first person I told. Why are you trying to make me cry? Lol Yeah my mom. I had just left my ex too. She got me through all that. When I was on bed rest for a month after the hospital she was there every second. We were going through a lot with my dad at that time too. I’ve never met anyone more resilient in my life. She’s literally a goddess.
Adrian Castellanos, Rio Grande Valley, Texas AIDS Activist, Blogger and contributing writer to The Gran Varones
(yvette santiago, sadie ramos, anthony leon, samantha martinez & louie a. ortiz-fonseca)photo by jose hernandez
two years ago Anthony Leon sat in my office and after discussing the invisibility and erasure of Latino gay men in philly, we dreamt up the gran varones. we called Sean Laughlin (our video editor) into the office and he was like “cool. when do we start shooting?” so with no money, a few iPhones, a flip cam, Sean’s shoddy microphone and Anthony’s car, we set out to document the stories of latino gay men.
photo by jose hernandez
never did i imagine the impact and reach this project would have. i certainly never imagined being presented with the prestigious Vision Aware for Creative Artist of the Year by the Hispanic Choice Awards this past Saturday night.
the community that i have (re)discovered while working on this project has provided healing and hope for my raging heart. it is this love that continues to inspire me to challenge systems of oppression that are committed to reducing our experiences and existence as latino gay men to “hot,” “sexy” and “spicy.”
(louie a. ortiz-fonseca, anthony leon, emmanuel coreano and fran cortes)
thank yous:
to the varones who generously and courageously shared their stories: you are my heroes and i salute you. it is your magic and your light that make this project shine.
to Javier Suarez, Cecilia Ramirez and the entire team at Hispanic Choice awards: thank you for everything! i am humbled and honored.
(samantha martinez, nikki lopez, louie, carlos nunez and david agosto)
to Carlos Nunez: who called me a few months back and said “listen, people better nominate you for this award.” i know you can win it!“ you put it out into the universe.
to galaei: thank you for believing and supporting our project from day one. also, thank you for always providing space (on always short notice lol) for us to film interviews.
to all of the mothers, fathers, grand mothers, grand fathers, aunts, uncles, cousins, niece, nephews, neighbors and friends who love & support varones in their life: you help change the narrative that latinos are “more” homophobic than other communities.
to EVERY varòn: you matter right now. not for what you were or what you may be - but for what you are now. you matter right now.
anthony martinez: i was attending an online school but i didn’t like it. i am an outgoing person and i cannot be stuck behind a computer all day.
jacquelin martinez: he is a bright kid. i am so proud of him. he gets annoyed when i talk about him to other people but what can i say, i am a proud mother.
anthony: my sister got dressed so she can be in the picture. can she?
anthony martinez, high school student and dreamer in north philly.
when we started to the gran varones project, we never
imagined that the outcome would be a documentary film. in the winter of 2013,
with a no money, a few iphones, a flip cam and a shoddy microphone, we began
interviewing gay latino men from north philadelphia for a portrait photography
project. our goal was to raise the voices of gay latino men in philadelphia
telling our stories, the stories that often times get left out of the lgbtq
narrative.
in just a few months, we quickly amassed about 20 hours of film.
we knew we had to do something with the footage so we decided to download an
editing program, and learned how to use it as we edited the footage. The final
product is a 55 minute documentary of latino gay men courageously sharing their
stories and experiences.
the “our legacy is alive” documentary is a reminder that we
must tell our stories. the stonewall movie is a sobering truth that if we do
not tell and share our stories, no one will. we hope that you are inspired by
the film to share yours . we hope that this film serves as proof that our
stories can heal and brief life in our communities right here, right now. our
legacy is alive.
project coordinators:
louie a. ortiz-fonseca
anthony leon
sean laughlin
this film and project are dedicated to the courageous varones who have
so generously shared their stories in effort to raise our voices.
special thanks: gloria casarez, brent morales, charlotte sahadeo, erika
amiròn niz, nikki lopez, elicia gonzales, jaymie campbell, kira manser, samantha dato,
raices culturales latinoamericanas, concilio taller puertorriqueño and everyone
who has supported the making of this film and project.
Nick (left): Before puberty hit, I had a very squeaky voice, so I just got made fun of a lot. I remember, middle and high school, I wanted to run away. I would beg my mom to home school me. It was a dark time. It was a sad time. I was overweight. I was very insecrure, low self-esteem and it really wasn’t until I lost about 80-90 pounds, after high school and after I came out, that I really started feeling good about myself. I didn’t need to tackle being gay. I just felt good being me.
Nate (right) Coming out to my family, loved ones and friends, I was afraid. I was scared of their actions and how they would take it. That same night, I remember crying a lot, by myself before going to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I felt wonderful. I felt great. Because at that point, I was like “I don’t care if my family accepts me. I don’t care if my friends never speak to me.” I just didn’t care because it just felt great to come out. Then slowly, I started to fear becaause I started hearing stories about gay bashing. My uncle, who is also gay, got beat up. I was about 15 or 16 years old and he was put in a hopsital. I didn’t even recognize him. So that put fear in me. The fear dimmed when my parents began to accept me. If wasn’t that they accpected their gay son but rather they accpected their son who just happened to be gay.
I wonder what it was like when my ancestors prayed: amid the chorus of the misty rainforest to the lonely god on the cloudy mountain peak. I wonder what it was like on the sands of the beach where they prayed to the sea: its waves coming and going endlessly- the same waves breaking against my stomach as I wade into the sea of time filling my palms with salty water murmuring mantras an offering for the Sun an offering for the sages and an offering for those same ancestors who stood where I stand, swam where I swim. I let the water seep through my hands time flows like water a current like the warm blood flowing in me carrying the spirits of countless mothers and fathers |
My family feels as if I have turned my back on my history trading as it were the church for the mandir, Spanish for Sanskrit. but I know my ancestors reject neither the water I offer nor the rice I feed them. my blood is their blood, the sea their god and mine also ||
Yagnaram Ramanuja Dasan is a queer, Latino Hindu blogger. He studies at Temple University, where he is earning a BA in Religion. He is also in the process of becoming a Hindu priest. He is the founder of LGBT Hindu Satsang, an affirming worship space for LGBT-identified Hindus. He blogs at his personal website, Jnana-dipena.
Raised in a Roman Catholic household, he later converted to Hinduism in high school after reading the Bhagavad Gita for the first time and finding an immense amount of spiritual fulfillment in it. Due to his religious conversion and coming out as queer, he has felt at odds at times with members of his own family. He struggled to find a place where he truly belonged, never really seeing himself represented anywhere. Through writing, traveling, networking, and finding his voice, he has managed to build a family of his own that celebrates all the various parts of his identity.
When he is not in school or doing work with the Satsang, you can catch him taking photos, going on meditation walks, or making a batch of tostones.
You can follow Yagna here: on his blog: jnanadipena.wordpress.com on Twitter: @YRD108 on FB: facebook.com/YRD108 on Tumblr: yrd108.tumblr.com
“My name is Angel Mendoza. I was born and raised for the most part in Texas and moved to Philadelphia in 2010. I went to Chicago last year because I came out while I was in school and the experience was more than difficult and turned out to be too much for me to handle. So I went out there to find a space that I could be myself and be open and discover who I am. So I was able to unrestricted from all of the obligations of being who I was in the past didn’t exist in Chicago. I was able to for grow and discover what it means to be me and after doing all that - I still felt empty because I wasn’t doing anything with it. So I looked back at Philly and realized all of the connections I had with advocacy and social justice and with trying to make this world a little bit of a better place. I decided to come back here (to Philly) to do something with my life and for other people who experienced the same things I did.”