Proudly Living Within The Intersection

Each day, upon awakening, each one of our individual identities takes center stage. We open our eyes and allow ourselves to be who we authentically are; who we are inherently, at our core. If we're fortunate, the world around us recognizes our identities, and builds systems and institutions that honors these identities in a way that allows us to live fulfilling lives. Our identities are inextricable from who we are, especially how we operate on a daily basis.

Or at least that is the way it should be.

Our identities are fundamental and integral to how we connect to the world around us, both internally and externally. They shape our perception of society and civics, they drive our goals and dreams and influence how we connect and communicate with others. We build humanly bonds through our identities, create commadre and relationships. For many, this is all intuitive, perhaps even mechanical or robotic. It is something we impulsively do. But for many two seemingly separate demographics, it has become increasingly difficult to truly be ourselves.

I, like countless others, identify as both a part of the LGBTQ+ community and an immigrant, and both communities are currently enduring detrimental legislative, political and social attacks. And when openly being who we are becomes a direct threat to our livelihood and our wellbeing, then impulsively operating isn't easy. Instead, operating amongst society becomes a thought-out strategy to ensure your own safety. Each and everyday, some people have to make a conscious decision to downplay or entirely shutdown who they truly are, if only for a while. The world around us wants to be more masculine, less feminine, more articulate, more educated, more American. This has been my lived experience.

This is the pressure that both LGBTQ+ people and immigrants endure – to seemingly be something other than what we are. It's compounded when you are both LGBTQ+ and an immigrant.

In today's social and political landscape, having intersecting LGBTQ+ and immigrant identities can double the threats you encounter. While LGBTQ+ rights are being rescinded, challenged and downright obliterated, immigrants are becoming political pawns for politicians and governing entities. Legal status or not, immigrants are being hunted down and prosecuted, often without much due process. When two of your most prominent and significant identities are being politically attacked, coupled with the vile rhetoric that stokes discrimination and hate, both online and elsewhere, the pressure is insurmountable.

But the pressure to be yourself can be even more insurmountable. No amount of threat, of violence, of persecution, of hatred can qualm the pressing and dire need to be yourself. The world may ask us to be something other than what we truly are, but the soul and heart demand otherwise. That demand, at least for me, trumps (no pun intended) any calling for me to be something I am not. Attempting to do so would be a Herculean task, and I wouldn't be successful.

Across the country, LGBTQ+, immigrants and LGBTQ+ immigrants continue to showcase their resilience and courage. As a gay Mexican immigrant turned U.S. citizen, I often felt as those these were separate identities altogether, each fighting their own individual battle on distant battlegrounds. But as I grew more acquainted with myself and as I cemented my identity, both as a gay man and as an immigrant, I came to understand that I needed to merge the two to truly live out a happy and fulling life. I wasn't distinctively a gay man and distinctively an immigrant but, rather, a gay immigrant–someone whose sexual and gender identity mixed with nationality and heritage. All of these elements of who I am were coexisting and intersecting at all times, and to try and differentiate them from one another was a disservice to myself, my identity and others my fellow LGBTQ+ immigrants.

And I also understood that to be myself was also an act of rebellion. I needed to do so in order for me to advocate for myself and others. For me, as I'm sure is the case for countless others, being myself was going against the grain, an act of defiance, and it needed to be done in order to contribute to changing the world around me.

In 2021, while working for the Human Rights Campaign, I wrote a blog honoring and celebrating both Pride Month and Immigrant Heritage Month. In it, I speak about learning to now only acknowledge, but value these two important factors of who I am and the phenomenon that is having many contributing elements to one's identity:

"I’ve lived within the beautiful juxtaposition of knowing and utilizing both languages, celebrating both the culture and heritage of my native Mexico while integrating and honoring an American way of life. I also became comfortable in my own gay, queer skin and learned to celebrate that part of my identity as well. In doing so, I broke down so many self-imposed barriers and limitations and realized that I could simultaneously be so many things: bicultural, bilingual, transnational, gay and queer."

Still, intrinsically celebrating and honoring who I am is a daily endeavor as, I would assume, it is for others who also identify as both LGBTQ+ and as an immigrant. Every day, on the news, a new report is broadcasted sharing how either LGBTQ+ rights are being attacked or immigrants are being detained, harassed or deported. Immigrant communities are being policed and threatened, their residents living with fear and constant concern. Even more as a U.S. citizen, I still consider myself part of the immigrant community, and watching other immigrants tolerate discrimination and vitriol simply to strive for a better life is disheartening. And as a U.S. citizen, it irritates me to hear others say that the U.S. is a safe country for LGBTQ+ people when, in fact, our rights and livelihood also endure discrimination and vitriol, especially when it comes to state and national legislative efforts. The progress LGBTQ+ Americans have made is constantly threatened by the Trump administration, who is actively dismantling years of social progress and scientific advancements to tend to our unique health needs and concerns. Our LGBTQ+ voices are being silences, erased and manipulated.

Within the current context of societal occurrences and climate, LGBTQ+ and immigrant identities have become somewhat of the antithesis to what it means to be a patriotic American. The driven rhetoric and social commentary by the media and politicians would allude that these two identities threaten the very fabric of American life. Rhetoric isn't merely spoken or written words that disappear into the ether. It becomes embodied in the form of physical violence, physical attacks, and even murder. Absolutely no one deserves their safety to be jeopardized simply for who they are, and yet, we continue to see alarmingly incremental rates of violence against both communities.

Dispute this reality, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants and LGBTQ+ immigrants continue to persevere, thrive and live openly and authentically. Doing so is courageous. It's virtuous. It's powerful. It's beautiful.

And it's necessary.

Familia TQLM, an organization working toward the full liberation of trans, queer, and gender nonconforming Latinxs, is a prime example of how Latinx LGBTQ+ communities are coming together to form a strong frontline against the forces that are challenging their intersectional identities as immigrants and queer individuals. Advocates and advocacy groups like Familia TQLM need to exist in order for others to feel compelled to openly demonstrate who they are in whichever public and social setting they find themselves in. Visibility is immensely dynamic and influential.

When I see Julio Salgado's artwork intentionally centering and uplifting queer individuals who are undocumented, I see my own experiences being reflected back to me. When we hear about the activism of people like Arely Westley, we know that Brown and Black transgender and gender nonconforming folks have an active voice in community-based and national politics. When my people learn about Laura Esquivel and Sylvia Rivera, we know we are woven into the fabric of our nation's history. We can proudly claim our space and place in the past, present and future of America. We can adamantly insist with resounding assurance that we, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and LGBTQ+ immigrants, are part of America. We're here and we're not going anywhere.

The amounting pressure to hid one's LGBTQ+ and immigrant identities is palpable, especially under the current administration and its efforts to dehumanize LGBTQ+ people and immigrants alike, but I've remained resilient and persistent. I proudly demonstrate who I am everyday, and my hope is that other LGBTQ+ immigrants will do the same.

When I became a U.S. citizen, my concern was that it would entirely eliminate my identity as a Mexican immigrant. I'd be deprived of my identity as a Mexican national who came to live out my American dream. What I learned is that my immigrant identity is engrained into everything I am and do, and no naturalization could take that away from me, much like nothing can take away my LGBTQ+ identity.

Even under so much pressure to be something else, I know who I am at heart. I live my life authentically and true to who I am. My hope is that others do the same, especially those who live within the intersections of multiple identities.