Being gay and Latino is no picnic

“Living in the city of angels is no picnic when you are looked upon as part of a “bad” group instead of being seen as an individual. That is how many individuals like myself face every day of our lives.
I come from a single parent family. I have three older siblings and one younger. We all lived with our hard-working mother. My little brother and myself stuck together most of our childhood years and began to drift apart when I started to attend high school.
When I was in high school I felt different. Well, to be honest, even before that I felt different. I felt that I did not belong. Little did I know that the difference had to do with my sexuality. I hated the majority of sports. I hated the fact that I did not know how to play. I hated to be called names like “sissy” and “fag.” I hated it. I never knew what gay was. I knew it had to do with two guys having sex. I never could imagine two guys “doing it.” Yuck! That was the reaction that I was supposed to have. If I was gay, my older brothers would get mad at me. My mother would be sad. My sister would not like me anymore.
Coming from a traditional Latino family, homosexuality was not to be accepted. A man is a man. They have sex with all these girls until they get tired and have a baby. So I decided to go out and meet the expectations of my family. I decided to get into some real sports. I started wrestling in high school.
There I met a guy. We decided to practice after school. To make a long story short, a sexual situation began to arise. I got scared. I did not want to be part of it. I got up and asked him if he wanted to go on a blind date with some “chick.” He said no.
Well, I went out with this girl. That night I had kissed a girl for the first time. Two months later I had a sexual relationship with a girl. So it is funny to say I turned straight. I knew I was gay. I knew that I did not want to be with a girl. When I had that incident with my classmate, my mind told me that it was wrong. But my body told me that it was right. I did not want to be gay. I faked my heterosexuality so my mother and my family would not suspect my true orientation.
Five years later, I’m an advocate for gay and lesbian rights and an activist in the Latino/Chicano rights movement. I have been out to my whole family for two years. I finally took my boyfriend over for both Thanksgiving dinner and midnight mass with my family. And I work along with other gay and lesbian Latinos at La Casa (Latino/Latina Gay and Lesbian Center in East L.A.). Being an activist is not all political. It is also about being yourself and being able to express your feelings. These expressions are what our heterosexual peers take for granted. We cannot kiss the one we love in public without feeling the sting of homophobia. That is what makes us activists. Because we actively live our lives to the point of absolute happiness. That is a picnic in the city of angels”