Navigating Intersectionality: My Experience as a Queer Latinx

Growing up as someone who identifies as Latinx and Queer meant I existed in a limbo space; I felt as though I didn’t fit into either community. As a result, a large part of my adolescence was spent trying to find a way to inhabit the intersectional aspect of my identity in a way that felt comfortable. 

Regarding being Latinx, I’ve had many uncomfortable experiences within Queer spaces, such as discrimination and fetishisation based on the stereotypes around Latinas. For instance, I have had people assume that I am ‘easy’ to sleep with, and would often justify this idea with “Well, Latinas are known to be ‘spicy’”, which is then followed by an aggressive reaction when I say no. Moreover, It has not been uncommon to be one of, if not the only, Latinx person within Queer spaces, which can make for an uncomfortable experience. 

On the other hand, since heterosexuality is often regarded as the only valid relationship type in Latin American cultures, I’ve been made to feel uncomfortable about my sexuality and gender identity. For example, within family settings, one of the main questions asked is “¿Y ya tienes novio?” (Do you finally have a boyfriend?)

This also extends outside family situations, where I have often heard homophobic comments being tossed around, which leaves me with the difficult decision to speak up (and risk outting myself), or to stay quiet. As a young adult, I have learned to reconcile these different aspects of my identity. 

There is often an expectation that you must choose one identity over the other. This can be extremely draining, as you end up feeling as if you’re partially being yourself - and betraying your real identity. However, this approach neglects the idea of intersectionality, an idea that embraces the way in which different aspects of one's identity can overlap. In my case, my Latinx identity intersects with my sexual orientation and gender identity. By approaching the experiences of being Queer and Latinx through an intersectional lens, we’re able to develop a better and more complex understanding for outsiders as to how we move through the world. 

Within contemporary society, there is still a failure to recognise that race and ethnicity can coincide with sexuality and gender identity rather than being an entirely separate phenomenon. From my own perspective, I’ve seen how being Latinx intersects with my queerness, which influences how the world perceives me but also affects my own perception of the world. 

For example, as a bisexual Latinx, I’ve experienced extreme forms of fetishisation based on the promiscuous bisexual stereotype and the hypersexualised Latina. On the opposite end of the spectrum, being non-binary and Latinx has influenced how I view gender and how whiteness impacts ideas of gender norms. 

However, this is my experience alone and is not universal. Instead, it will vary from person to person based on the different ways in which their identities intersect; for example, someone who is a Queer Afro-Latina will experience the world entirely different to someone who is a Queer white Latino. 

When we continue to separate these identities, young Queer Latinx individuals continue to experience this sensation of not belonging, which is reinforced by divisions within both communities. Within predominantly white Queer spaces, I often felt unwelcomed by the people and environment due to a series of cultural differences and lived experiences. 

I’ve experienced the same questions as in any other white space, such as interrogations of where I’m really from and generic drug-related questions. When you’re non-white and Queer, you’re often made to feel like an outsider, and I have felt as though only one part of my identity is accepted. Because of this, it is important that we acknowledge that white privilege is still present in the LGBTQ+ community.

In contrast, within predominantly Latino spaces, I fit in culturally and share similar lived experiences, but only to a certain extent. Latino culture is not fully accepting of queer identities due to the remnants of colonialism and its relationship to enforced Christianity. As such, there was a looming fear of how others would perceive me once my queerness came to light, with it not being uncommon for this aspect of my identity to make others feel ‘uncomfortable’. 

Despite many Latino countries being Queer friendly on paper in the modern day, we need to continue to tackle cultural attitudes which have still not been challenged. Within Latin American communities, we need to open up discussions on queer identities and develop a better understanding of how homophobia and transphobia have come about within our community, but also de-bunk longstanding stereotypes and misinformation that exist within the community. 

The difficult part of this conversation is how we work around such issues. We need to move towards creating diverse Queer spaces in which race and ethnicity don’t prevent others from interacting with the community. However, opening up the conversation is key to understanding the root of this issue.

As a young adult, I am extremely proud of my Latinx heritage and my queerness, as they’re both integral parts of my identity, which I embrace. When reflecting on my progress and development, I often realised that I struggled to accept these parts of my identity. Living in the UK meant that I felt like a constant outsider despite being born in England, yet seeing how many Latinos viewed the LGBTQ+ community made me feel as though there was something wrong with me. 

However, many young Queer Latinx and Queer people of colour continue to experience this and opening up the conversation while taking an intersectional perspective is the key to moving forward. There is no singular Queer experience or singular Latino experience; instead, there are experiences which vary within these categories.