Panelists discussed the difficulties of reconciling their cultural upbringing with their sexual orientations at last night's event entitled The Contemporary Lives of Queer Latinas, held in Milbank's Ella Weed room.
Barnard Mujeres, which according to their literature is focused on "empowering and supporting women on Columbia University's campus," hosted the event that drew about 20 spectators. Panelists included Associate Director of Multicultural Affairs Marta Esquilin, Professor for Spanish and Latin American Cultures Maja Horn, and Stephanie Zúñiga, BC '09.
All three panelists said that due to predominantly homophobic backgrounds, they came out during their first semesters at college. However, Professor Horn questioned the validity of the term "coming out."
"Coming out of the closet is a specific expression. Not all cultures have closets," Horn said.
"When I was as little as seven, I remember that I always had crushes on female teachers but I didn't know what that meant," Esquilin said. "When I was 13 I remember saying to myself, 'I know that I'm gay and this is why I have to go to college,' my motivation. I thought, there is no way I can be who I am where I'm living."
Esquilin said she had it particularly hard because she went to a predominantly white college. "On the one hand, I was relating with being a Puerto Rican and a student of color in a white environment, and on the other hand I was trying to come out."
Another topic pervading the evening was the perception of gender images in Latino cultures. "I was dating a woman who I guess would be termed butch," Zúñiga said. "I showed my mom who she was and my mom wasn't bothered by that fact she was a woman as much as the fact that she was butch. She said 'if you're going to date a woman, why don't you date a real woman?'"
Zúñiga also said that, while looking "feminine" makes presenting herself less uncomfortable to family and friends, "People say, 'Oh my God, really? But you don't look gay.' And I think, 'well, what does gay look like? Could you draw me a picture, what's gay?'"
Horn, who worked in a gender research agency in the Dominican Republic, said that there are very few places in the Dominican Republic that are "safe spaces" for homosexuals. "The media presents them [homosexuals] in a negative way," Horn said. "It has to do with role of the Catholic Church in the Dominican Republic."
"If you're feminine, you're taught to be a mother and wife," Esquilin said. "I'm lucky ... because I'm not religious, not in that way. I don't have that internal conflict constantly."
When the floor was opened for questions, a few onlookers asked whether sexual orientation was a choice or not.
"From when you're born you get a blue teddy bear or a pink teddy bear," Zúñiga said. "If that's all you know after 20 years, maybe you don't have a choice. But I definitely think that sexuality is fluid."
Despite struggling in her native land of Puerto Rico, Esquilin said she was optimistic about homosexuality in America. "The more Americanized you get, the easier it is."