julio mangual aka lady labelle is one of philadelphia’s most beloved afro-boricua drag queens. he has one of the first queens to organize drag shows in the heart of north philly - a world away from philly’s gayborhood - in the early 1990s. lady labelle continues to break down barriers by performing in bars and clubs that my uncle, my bother and aunts go to.
watch our latest gran varones profile video as julio aka lady label shares their story.
happy father’s day to all varones. those who are raising and nurturing. those who are guiding and leading. those who are passing along family traditions while expanding what our familia looks like. we celebrate and salute you on this day.
¡feliz día de los padres!
photo: karlos nuñez & david agosto with their lovely daughter natalia.
photographed by: louie a. ortiz-fonseca
RECALLING ONE OF NORTH PHILLY’S FIRST LATINX QUEER NIGHTS
Louie: So how are you holding up?
Ricky: It’s been hard. I knew many people lost in the attack at Pulse. I knew them through my days as a club promoter. Ya know, when we go clubbing we go everywhere. That’s why I Travesura was important to me.
Louie: Yes, Travesura was lit! One of the first Latin Queer nights in North Philly. In a North Philly straight bar too!
Ricky: We had to. Latinos like you and me are able to go downtown and be in those other spaces. We had to learn that shit because how else would we have survived the 90’s. We old, gurl. (LOL) But seriously, I saw how they looked at other Latinos from North Philly. They looked at them with disgust because they didn’t “fit” in with the downtown culture. They didn’t want to interact act with them or even acknowledge them. That pissed me off.
Louie: Is that what inspired you to start Travesura?
Ricky: Well actually, it was started by DJ Chill Will and DJ Who? They started having Travesura nights at some bar in North Philly. After maybe like the first two events, they reached out to me to be the face of it. I had just moved back to Philly and was getting my life together but I agreed. I knew it would help build a stronger connection for and with the Latino gay community. I also wanted to be a part of a something that would accept all of us no matter how we presented or how we acted. And believe me, those nights at Travesura were lit as hell. People fought and argued. There was enough drama to go around but it brought Latinos from South Philly up to North Philly. And you saw Latino gays meeting other Latino gays for the first time. A lot of them are still friends. Soon we took the party to Delaware because just like Philly, there wasn’t a place for Latino gays there. It was like over 5 years ago since we stopped but I remember it like it was yesterday.
foto courtesy of Ricardo Melendez. Travesura Latino Queer Night in Philly
Louie: Do you think you will return to promoting Latin
nights again?
Ricky: Yes. I actually just spoke to Lady LaBelle last week because she is trying to do Latin Nights with Drag Shows in North Philly. She wants to team up. Now it is even more important that we do this, ya know. We need it. There is a disconnect in our community now. Everyone just stays in North Philly and go to straight bars with their cousins. Or they have house parties. Yeah, we go to Woody’s on Thursdays for their Latin night but you won’t hear our music. It’s mainly English music. So me Lady LaBelle talked and decided to put aside our differences and try to make this work. She and I are both crazy but we are both dedicated to our community. So I will keep you updated.
foto courtesy of Ricardo Melendez. Travesura Latino Queer Night in Philly
“Yes, this tragedy has impacted our entire queer community. And yes, in these critical times we must find every bridge that connects all of our oppressions, but we must do this without reinforcing erasure of Puerto Ricans, a community that continues to be colonized by the U.S. Puerto Ricans continue to be migrants in their own country, and while many of us are not fleeing the island because of violent dictatorship, some come to the mainland seeking solace and refuge from an island that has been and continues to be pillaged by white supremacy.” - Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca, Creator of Gran Varones
“untitled”
The floors have been painted,
But it was not by choice
This room was not in need of renovation
This room was filled with innovation
Masterpiece after masterpiece
What an exhibition of artistry
Yet hate brought his concept of interior design
And with it he painted the dance floor red
With his bullets
He destroyed priceless works of arts
Oh beautiful earthen vessels shattered in pieces
Hidden treasures
The world had yet to behold you
In all your splendor
Rumbling in the distance
Are the sounds of the steps of many
Which took the road less traveled
So that we could enjoy our liberty.
WE are not sick nor diseased
WE are strength, WE are bold
Damn it, WE own everything
Written by: Efrain Gomez, Philadelphia
sanctuary is found on the dance floor. spirits are filled and pain is paused. know that last night’s attack at pulse night club in orlando, during latino night - is an yet ANOTHER attack on all of us who have ever feared loving openly in public.
as pride month continues, remember to remember that PRIDE IS STILL POLITICAL and it is STILL NECESSARY! rage more and march harder!
we love you all so very much.
love, light and healing to everyone impacted by the pulse night club attack.
Louie: Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today. I think this our first time ever chatting in person.
Jay: Is it?
Louie: Yes. I remember seeing you at Shampoo Night Club but we never really talked.
Jay: Oh I remember those days. Too bad they closed it, right?
Louie: Yes. I used to get my dance on in that damn velvet room. So where in Philly did you grow up?
Jay: I grew up in northern liberties neighborhood which back then it didn’t have that name.
Louie: Yes! I grew up around there too before all the Ricans were pushed out.
Jay: My upbringing was awesome I experienced how a Latino American can enjoy living in the early 80’s enjoying the culture and music both in Spanish and English. I was the oldest in my family and I wanted to become someone that didn’t exist in my family. I didn’t want to become another gay male Hispanic in the “system”, like some who come over to just live out of the government. My view of being in the United States was to fight and strive for opportunities that some of my family members didn’t have.
Louie: When did you come “out”?
Jay: I came out late when I was 27years old. It wasn’t a bad thing. My family had wanted me to come out but I was not ready. I was battling with my beliefs and the person who I was.
Louie: What is one thing you regret?
Jay: The one thing I regret doing is leaving my old job at the Public Defenders Association. I have to say it was the best job and a blessing for me.
Louie: Ya know, Mariah left Columbia for Virgin records because of the money. “Glitter” flopped and she was released from her contract. She has since said that was the first and last time she made a decision based on money. I think of that whenever I am being tempted to leave a job just for money.
Jay: I know its scary now to me because of what happened to me. Once I left, I everything went wrong and I lasted a year. I was fired for the first time in my life! The day I was fired, I left the building and rain fell on me. It was like a movie. So I headed to the bar at Woody’s to get drunk. [LMAO]
Louie: What is one thing you don’t regret?
Jay: I don’t regret being honest and blunt about things. I was told to keep my mouth shut when I was growing up. Not anymore.
Jay Ruiz, Philadelphia
Interviewed and Photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
someone once said that the shortest distance between life and death was AIDS. this shit was hella true before the introduction of antiretroviral therapy (HIV treatment) in the mid 1990’s.
sadly, now the quickest way for build an empire for HIV service agencies is to say that they struggle and ideas of black & latino gay men and black & latina trans women.
these same agencies remain silent as black and latino people living with HIV continue to be criminalized.
these same agencies continue to get increasingly more money even as 1 in 2 black gay men and 1 and 4 latino gay men are projected to be diagnosed with HIV in their lifetimes.
despite their failures, these agencies continue to make a profit.
yesterday, marked the 35th anniversary the first published report by the centers for disease control (CDC) of a mysterious disease that would later become known as AIDS. while we have witnessed profound breakthroughs in treatment, black, latino and poor people continue to disproportionately impacted even as HIV service agencies have grown by leaps and bounds. THIS CANNOT CONTINUE.
remember to remember that HIV IS NOT A CRIME. AIDS PROFITEERING IS.
join us on saturday, june 11th at 4.30PM as creators of the gran varones facilitate an interactive workshop on how gran varones became a multi-discipline social media project. this event is free and will take place in philadelphia. for more information, email us at [email protected]
http://www.phlaff.org/festival/2016/film-guide#the-gran-varones-section
Louie: Finally chyle! Took you forever to do this?
Jonathan: I know. I have been so busy.
Louie: Yes, I know. I see you doing thangs. I am so, so proud of you.
Jonathan: Thank you.
Louie: So let’s get started. Where did you grow up?
Jonathan: I was born in NYC and when my mom split with my dad, we moved here with my step-father. I grew up in North Philly. It was challenging knowing at a young age that you were gay. I knew when I was 5. So i I used to get picked on about my weight, the way I talked, the way I walked, any little thing. All the way from elementary school to high school, were challenging years. I faced a lot of different things.
Louie: How did you know at age 5 you were gay?
Jonathan: I just had a feeling inside. I used to always hang out with the girls. I never had a connection with the boys. I used to try and force myself to play sports and try to be “macho” but I knew deep down inside, that wasn’t me. And when I was acting like somebody else, I didn’t feel like myself. It’s challenging at age 5 to think that about yourself when you don’t even know yourself. Ya know, growing up in this crazy world, we are “supposed” to act a certain way and your parents are telling you, “Stand up straight.” “Walk right!” “Stop sayin’ it like that.” You get structured to be this alpha male and you know deep down inside that’s not who you are. I had those moments when I used to battle myself about who i am and who i wanted to be.
Louie: Have you found an answer?
Jonathan: My junior year of high school. I developed a circle of friends that were very tight-knit and they introduced me to the gay scene was I was 18. Before that it was foreign. I didn’t know what it was like, what a gay club was like. At first, it was very uncomfortable seeing guys dance together or touch each other in certain ways. I never knew what that felt. I had visions in my head but I never saw it live in the flesh. So I said (to myself), “Let me develop more comfortability around this because this is the kind of environment i want to be in.”
Louie: How is Jonathan today different from that young Jonathan?
Jonathan: Wow, great questions. Jonathan now is a lot more mature and really starting to come into his own. Back then, I was lost and very insecure. I had a lot of issues around trying to define who I was really was, what kind of man I wanted to be. How do I fit into this world? What do I bring to the table? I still struggle with certain aspects of that currently but it is not as heavy as before. I was so scared because coming out as gay, I didn’t know who to turn to. I had so many questions like how do I moved forward in life as a gay man? Now, i am so comfortable with it, I am so open with it. I am very proud to be gay.
Jonathan, Philadelphia
Interviewed and Photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
Abuelo Knows
In 2014, I was still living in Georgia and I came to spend December with my family in Miami. With almost one foot still on the bus, I met this guy, PhD student in biochemistry, total nerd (like me) and 30 seconds later we’re seeing each other. I’m staying at my abuelo’s place and I’m thinking that I’m being discreet slipping out in the evenings and “having coffee with friends” or “hanging out with friends” for a couple hours more or less every evening since getting here.
Besides me, one of my cousins is also queer. My parents’ generation was emphatic that Abuelo, our familial paragon of Latino masculinity, shouldn’t be told about this. Worried he wouldn’t take it well.
Cut to a couple weeks later and I’m not with my friend because I’m at this soirée that my mom’s boss is throwing. My parents, Abuelo and I are all there.
It’s getting late. I’m sitting next to Abuelo. We’re both well fed. Music is playing. Abuelo is working his teeth with a toothpick. And my friend texts me. I’m pulling out and messing with my phone.
Abuelo, suddenly disinterested in the toothpick says, “Can you tell that someone is calling you right now?”
“Yeah, a friend of mine is just asking how I’m doing.”
Then Abuelo asks, “Is this the same friend that you’ve been seeing in the evenings?”
I’m a little surprised by the question, but I answer truthfully, “Why yes. Yes, it is.”
Abuelo has my full and undivided attention at this point. And then he asks, “Is he nice?”
“Yes he is.”
"That’s good. I worry about you sometimes and it’s good to know that you’re with someone nice.“
Even after all this time, I’m not used to being at a loss for words. "Thanks.”
At which point, he went back to the toothpick.
Santi moved to Miami a few months ago to help take care of his abuelo, a job he lost Saturday morning when his family’s patriarch passed on. After the funeral on Sunday, which would have been Abuelo’s 100th birthday, Santi will presumably continue his other passions in photography, video and programming.
Shanti is a contributing writer and photographer for Gran Varones. He lives in Miami, Florida.
today we celebrate, honor and raise up the women who ignited the warrior spirits in varones!
Even though we fight, argue and don’t agree on everything, my mother is everything to me. After my father’s deportation she found the strength she needed to provide for myself and my sister, keep the family together and always with a smile on her face when though I know it seeing her family torn by ICE affected her just like it did me. She fought immigration to ensure that both of us received our green cards even though countless lawyers and “ experts” said it was a lost cause. She even gave me the strength I needed while we did our civil disobedience together blocking the ICE offices in Philadelphia. I would not be where I am if it wasn’t for her. Gracias mami.
- Miguel Esteban Andrade
We don’t have many photos together. Cameras were just never around and the ones that were, we never got those pictures developed. LOL But you and i would reminisce and paint pictures with our words and love. This is the first Mother’s Day I have to endure without you. I have a pain that I will never lose but your love that continues to carry me through. Thank you for my warrior spirit. Mom, I love you to the moon & back.
- Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
Who ran to help me when I fell, my Queen. Who would read me a book to sleep, my Queen. Who would kiss my BooBoo and tell me I will get better, My Queen. My Mothers love is like no other. Who said “I don’t care who you love, as long as you continue to love me! My Queen! She’s a magical loving person that God blessed me with. I wish her the best and full of Health. Happy Mothers Day!! iLoveYou!
- Carlos Lopez
Happy Birthday mom! Two days ago you would have been 79 years young.
It’s hard to believe that it has been only 5 months since you left us and even harder not to pick up the phone to call you and wish you a happy birthday. But today, I celebrate your life and the memories that you have created for me. To remember your laughter as we chatted about various things from the weather
I remember spending days and evenings with you. Some times we would talk, some times we would just be quiet in our own thoughts. But every night before I left your side , I told you I loved you,kiss you in your forehead and that I’d see you the next day. I remember that last night I saw you , that you gave me a kiss and a hug and a special longing look, like you were memorizing my face. I remember turning around to look at you in you'r room, wanting to turn back and not go to bed. I slept that night with a heavy heart. That night, that moment, is something that I will always remember. No words can ever express that feelings that I felt. As I looked back, I know you were saying “good-bye” to me, even though you never really said the words. It is something I will cherish all my life.
So on this Mother’s Day, mom, I want to wish you a Happy Birthday and to remember you as you were – strong, brave, loving…special.
You may be gone from this physical earth, but you live within me every day, every moment, every second.
Happy Birthday, mom….I love you te amo viejita.
- Edgar Lynn Renta Ortiz
Luis: I really like this project and what you are doing.
Louie: Thank you. We need it.
Luis: Yeah, wish this was around when I was younger. Maybe I would have come out sooner.
Louie: Really? When did you come out?
Luis: After I was married with children. I was just scared. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my ex-wife. We are friendly now. I have a good relationship with her and my kids. I was just scared.
Louie: Have you been in a relationship since?
Luis: Yes. We lived together. He really wanted to make it work but I just was not in love anymore. I tried but one day I came home and said “This isn’t working.”
Louie: Are you in a relationship now?
Luis: No way! I like being alone. If it happens, it happens. Life is good now.
Luis, Philadelphia
Interviewed & Photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
every time you see a fem boy, maricòn, fag, queen, cissy boy or a fat queer boy strutting down the street - it should make you fuckin’ proud!
#YesFats #YesFems
Louie: So you’re originally from some place in New York I have never heard of (LOL) what is the craziest experience you have had in Philadelphia?
Alejandro: The craziest experience I’ve had in Philadelphia? I briefly befriended a young homeless man in center city. I’d seen him playing a guitar on the sidewalk one day, and a few days later the guitar was gone. He said it been stolen. I spent a late night hanging out with him once, and at some point another homeless youth confronted him about something and lunged at a bunch of us with a switchblade. It was a whole different side of the city that I’ve ever seen.
Louie: So what was it like growing up in your family?
Alejandro: I had a great stretch of happy childhood at first. My parents met while working in the dining room of a hotel in the Hudson Valley, and when I was born, they lived on the second floor of another immigrant family’s house. My happiest memories are from living in a trailer that my parents rented afterwards. I loved the Muppets, so my parents bought me the “Muppet Christmas” record and for Halloween, they painstakingly carved Miss Piggy and Kermit Jack-O-Lanterns for me. As I got closer to adolescence, my parents’ marriage unraveled, and my dad started spending a lot of time elsewhere. He’d worked his way up to Maitre D at the hotel, which was good, but he worked nights, weekends, and holidays my whole childhood. There’s a lot I wish I could’ve learned from him. People respected him. My mom went to college as they were getting divorced, and she raised my sister and me as she got her bachelors, and her masters, and then started teaching English as a second language. When I came out as gay in my late teens, both of my parents were very supportive, though. They’re good people. Now that I’m an adult, I can see what qualities of my own come from them. For better or for worse I’m their creation in many ways.
Louie: You invited me to one of your stand-up performances and you were fuckin’ hilarious. Have you always known you were going to be a comedian?
Alejandro: I didn’t always know I would be a comedian, but I did always know I would be an artist, and I’ve always loved comedy. Self-knowledge is harder to come by than some people think. The only thing I’ve really ever known from the beginning is that I’m not like other people, and the rest of my life has been about trying to find my place in the world. What I love about comedy is that it gives people the freedom to talk about what this life is really like.
Alejandro Morales, Philadelphia by way of Ellenville, New York
Interviewed and Photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca
