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Thankful for being gay

Thankful for being gay

I speak three languages. English, Gay and Journalese. That’s right. My last name is Garcia and I don’t speak a lick of Español, unless you count the menu at Tacos Rapidos.

I can’t even begin to describe the shock most people have when they find out I don’t know my “native language.” It gets even worse when I can’t explain the difference between a Chicano and Latino.

“The most ‘Mexican’ thing my family did was eat burritos with green chili,” I explain. Followed by an apology.

Sure, my father’s mother would call me ‘hito.’ But as a young boy, I hated it. In fact, I asked my grandmother not to call me by that.

What little Spanish culture was in my life, I rejected. I didn’t understand it. It was never explained to me. It was just there.

When the rest of my family slathered green chili on their Thanksgiving turkey and mashed potatoes I preferred – demanded – gravy. And my ears would bleed if I were in the presence of a mariachi band. I could never roll my R’s like everyone else.

And while I can now eat the hottest green chili and blush when my grandmother calls me ‘hito,’ I’m still largely oblivious to the supposed Latino culture I was supposed to learn as a young boy.

But I found something else: gay culture.

While I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on gay culture, I would suggest I’m in a unique position to understand it better than the average ‘mo. If nothing else, Out Front Colorado’s job should be to showcase the culture, pick it apart, put it back together. Explain it.
While we might not overtly do it the way, say, an anthropologist does, each article, blog, email or print edition should bring a little perspective.

LGBT culture is unique in the regards that there is rarely a bloodline linking us to one another (I once dated a guy whose father was also gay). In most cultures, whether it’s white, African American, Latino, Chinese, there are multiple generations that share a blood lineage. While you might have never met your great-grandfather, you at the least know what he did. And somehow, someway, you might still carry on a tradition he started.

That connection of family makes it that much easier to share history, values, rituals.

So how is community and culture built, established and shared in the gay community?

That’s not a question with a very easy answer.

The first thing we can look to is what we say and where we say it.

When Raja, winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race season three, was at Tracks to kick off her tour she told the crowd to take a minute during PrideFest to remember the men and women who came before them.

“Someone taught you how to say ‘gurl,’” she said.

I have to admit, I don’t remember who taught me to say ‘gurl.’ But I do remember the day my brother told me – a couple years after I left Pueblo – I had changed. I had, in his words, “become more gay.”

And you know what? Today I’m more gay than I was yesterday. And chances are, so are you. One of the biggest burdens gay men, lesbians and trans-folk carry is coming out – in one way or another – every day.

But that burden is also a blessing. Declaring you’re gay is like working out. It’s really hard the first time you do it. And you’re usually left sore afterward. But the more you do it, the stronger you get. The more brave you become. And that energy, if harnessed correctly, can translate into something wonderful.

Decisions were made long before I was born for my Latino family to assimilate. Spanish was rarely spoken around my grandparents. And never around us.

I will never stop coming out. And I will never stop speaking gay. Assimilation is not for me.

In fact, this Thanksgiving, while my family – and I – dump green chili all over our turkey, I’m going to take a minute to be thankful for this community, this culture that has taught me, allowed me, to be myself. This culture that has shown me a new way of living, speaking, acting.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll give mariachi music another chance.

Then again, chances are you’ll find me at a gay bar doing some gurl talk.

 

Editor’s Pick
We have Kurt and Blane on Glee. And of course there’s Mitchell and Cameron on Modern Family. And while these four represent a great cross section of gays. There’s another who has won my heart: Max on Happy Endings. This ABC comedy, which was a 2010 mid-season replacement, has become one of the few TV shows I actively watch. And it’s largely thanks to Max, played by Adam Pally and fag-hag Penny, played by Cassey Wilson. Max is the anti-gay gay. He’s sloppy, unemployed, overweight and speaks “bro.” But that’s just part of his charm. What takes the cake is how effortlessly his sexuality is brought up amongst his five other friends.

Gay History 101
In 1999, the U.S. Conference on AIDS was held in Denver Nov. 4 – 8. Breakout sessions included discussions on fighting the global epidemic, uniting people living with HIV/AIDS and the rest of the population, hope and “Working together from the Rockies to the Pacific.” Out Front Colorado reported big names were in the Mile High City for the conference. The Rev. Jesse Louis Jackson, president and founder of Rainbow/PUSH Coalition, was one of the U.S.’ foremost political figures. Both actress Sheryl Lee Ralph (Sister Act II) and Dr. Peter Piot, executive director of the Jointed United Nations program on AIDS were on hand.

Off the record
In our last issue we featured Cisco’s Boyz, a local troop of male dancers and strippers in our cover story. One of the things that make this group special is the fact that most of the dancers are either black or Latino. Someone commented on Facebook that it was a shame that Out Front Colorado would choose strippers to represent an underserved population. I have two responses. First, Cisco’s Boyz is
a locally-owned small business run by a Latino man. And he’s making good money. Not to mention, he has a full time job. Second, all that aside, pretty boys can just be pretty boys, for pretty boys’ sake.

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