As he made his way forward from the busy sidewalk of South Broadway Street, he carried with him the attitude of any other nonchalant young adult perusing the world on a Saturday afternoon. His purple plaid shirt crisply ironed and buttoned, his jeans with no visible holes. The fashion-savvy would point out that his fohawk had him looking sharp and modern. Look around on that busy afternoon in downtown Denver, and you would have seen a dozen other youngsters such as him going about their daily lives.
As many students do at least once a day, he sat down at the local coffee shop close to his living quarters and ordered coffee with an extra shot of espresso.
“It’s been a long week – midterms, projects, you can feel the end of semester lunging at you,” he said, as he slunk his way into a chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s the never-ending hell week.”
A 20-year-old college boy, he fits in with the masses in the areas surrounding the campus of the University of Denver (DU). Yet, whether he wants to or not, Alejandro stands out primarily in two ways, the first without saying a single word. His facial features are that of a young Latin man, his skin the color of mocha. His ethnicity has a voice of his own. The second is his homosexuality. What other people see about these two outstanding features in him depends entirely up to them.
Downing his second cup of coffee in a to-go cup, Alejandro walked briskly now and with energy up the street, peering into shops’ windows; a bakery caught his eye. More specifically, the arroz con leche that was perched right behind the glass.
“My mom always used to make this for us; it’s rice pudding, but it’s super sweet and creamy,” he smiled, tapping the window. Alejandro’s mom is from Colombia, his dad from the Dominican Republic, making his family traditions and culture a mix of the both. Born in the capital of the Dominican Republic, his family moved to Miami when he was eight, and then to Colorado two years later.
“Our Latin culture definitely affected my growing up, even when we were in Colorado; my parents were definitely the type to call me a million times, asking me where I was, what I was doing it, who I was with. They were probably more uptight than a lot of American families, but I feel like the more time they spent in the US, the more laid back they got.”
Still, it was hard for him to come out to his parents about his sexuality. His mom’s sister was a lesbian, and he had seen how hard it had been for his mom to accept this and come to terms with it. At first she didn’t understand it, he said, and his mom was mad at her for thinking such irrational thoughts. So he kept it from them for about two years, coming out only to his friends a year after he had figured out for himself who he was and what he wanted.
“I knew what being gay meant, and I knew that I liked guys, but I didn’t put two and two together until sophomore year of high school. Yet, I didn’t tell anyone until junior year because I was a late bloomer in terms of being attracted to people. Even though I thought I sometimes was, I didn’t feel the urge to start dating until late high school, so I feel like that’s what prompted me to tell people.”
It wasn’t until the spring of 2013 when the NO H8 Campaign passed through Denver that his parents finally caught wind of the truth. Started in November of 2008 by the passing of Proposition 8, banning all same-sex marriage in the state of California, the NO H8 Campaign has garnered millions of supporters and now stands for an overall message against discrimination and bullying. As part of his school’s Queer Student Alliance group (QSA), DU joined this campaign by doing a photo shoot and having all its members change their profile pictures on Facebook to the equality symbol with a red background.
“As soon as I changed my profile picture, my mom asked me over Facebook if there was anything I needed to tell her,” he recalled. About to go home for the Easter holiday that weekend, he had planned on telling his family upon his arrival; but his mother kept pressuring through instant message, and he caved. It wasn’t the way he had planned to go about it, but it was finally out.
“I was scared over nothing. Of course they accepted me, and loved me no matter what. My mom was the only one who talked the whole time, and my dad just kissed me on the forehead at the end and said he agreed with everything mom had said,” he laughed, rolling his eyes.
Yet even being inside the gay community has its discriminations. Having dated a couple of guys now, and being part of multiple diversity groups, Alejandro has realized that even minority groups have majority subgroups. “Within every minority group, there’s a certain type of person that gets put up on a pedestal, and people within that group strive to look like that or act a certain way,” he explained. Inside the gay community, he reckons, that subgroup is being white and masculine. He has encountered homosexuals that have thought he was overly queer because of the fact that he is Latino and has a feminine personality.
“There’s a lot of privilege that comes from being white going into any situation,” he said. Not only has he felt the pressure of being diverse inside the gay community, but also in general as well. Alejandro has a deferred action for childhood arrivals, which allows him to have a worker’s permit in the United States, but does not grant him citizenship. The administration’s Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program was passed in June 2012, allowing certain children who meet key requirements to apply for deferral, subject to renewal, and then be eligible for work authorization. Because of his status in this country, it shuts doors on him that other people take for granted.
“I can’t apply for scholarships at school, I can’t vote, I couldn’t even apply to certain universities at all,” he stated. His viewpoint has led him to realize that involving himself in initiatives and organizations at school allow him to be passionate about his unique series of events, as well as help others who feel the same way or have similar situations to him. He is a part of the QSA, the Latino Student Alliance (LSA), student government, and chair of the diversity committee. He hopes to guide those who need it, and educate those who cannot relate to on a personal level.
“It’s not about educating people on the gay community, the bisexual community, or the Latino community. It’s about understanding people for what they are, which are simply human beings from all walks of life.”
Paola Fernandez 