Five years ago Jose Navarro left the predominantly Mexican southwest-side community in which he was raised. He was openly gay, and he didn’t think the community would tolerate that.
And a liberating one as well, he says. “This was about more than marching in a parade–it’s about gays being accepted in the communities in which we were raised. For years we have had to choose between a closeted existence or moving to gay ghettos. That choice is unfair and we’re starting to say it.”
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“We have two goals,” says Karen Hutt, a member of APBLG. “One is to provide opportunities for the larger heterosexual black community to see, know, talk, and work with ‘out’ black lesbians and gays. Our second goal is to craft activities that inspire black lesbians and gays in the black community to stand tall and proud.”
When he finally summoned up the courage to tell his parents that he was gay, he found them more sympathetic than he had ever imagined–a sympathy he attributes to their heritage. “I admit I subscribed to the stereotype that Mexicans have this macho thing where they can’t accept homosexuality,” says Navarro. “But it wasn’t like that at all. There’s a strong feeling of family. It’s different, I think, than Anglo tradition, which is more oriented to the individual. We see ourselves as brothers and sons, and the family’s determined to stick together no matter what. My mother’s great about it. She said, ‘I’ll work on your father.’ He may not love the idea, but he accepts it.”
Phony applications are one of the oldest tricks in the book, generally employed by civil rights activists to find examples of housing discrimination. This time a black-owned organization was snared. Working through the city’s Human Relations Commission, Hutt and her allies met with Defender publisher John Sengstacke, who eventually allowed them to march.
Unlike the black gays and lesbians, ALMA’s members were immediately welcomed by the Mexican Independence Day Parade organizers. “We live in a country where different beliefs and life choices coexist and thrive,” says Arturo Velasquez, the parade’s director. “We find this to be true among Mexicans and within the larger Latino community.”
“That just sort of happened–one guy started it and it just took off,” says Navarro. “I don’t have anything against the chant, I just didn’t think it was appropriate for this march. But no one objected except for one white guy.”
