I just wish that from that we could open a more productive dialogue where we aren’t afraid to acknowledge the ways that being gay is still sometimes difficult. There’s this idea I think that if you admit that you’re struggling with being “out” or just being “gay,” you’ll be reminded that the solution is just to act “less gay,” and restrict any “gayness” of yours to the bedroom. But to be “gay” means more than sex. I feel like nobody wants to admit that but it’s still true. I mean, there’s a reason we all know what “act less gay” means. I feel like I notice these things because I’ve been “out” for so long now, like I came out to everybody when I was 14, so I’ve grown up with that, I don’t really ever think of myself as being gay. When I first came out I know that I did but that was so long ago I hardly even remember coming out or what it was like before I came out. Everybody told me I was gay before I came out, I was just one of those kids, and, again, it’s not like they were talking about my sex life because I was a little kid.

En tanto causa política, el activismo LGBTI ha sido mi gran motor de vida en los últimos años. Esto que me pasa a mí, creo, le está pasando a muchos, ya que las voces que defienden esta causa se han multiplicado, así como las tribunas dispuestas para ello. Yo hablo desde la política, pero otros –cada vez más- lo hacen desde la academia, las artes, la ciencia, la educación, por nombrar sólo algunos. Hoy se está haciendo activismo en el día a día: el joven que lucha por convencer a su abuela de que lo nuestro son derechos es, en algún sentido, también un activista. Suelo hablar de microactivismo y pienso que, multiplicado por miles, será el que permitirá cambiar definitivamente la cultura.

No creo que haya una comunidad LGBT. Prefiero hablar de población, pues la “comunidad” supone intereses o necesidades comunes que, en el caso LGBTI, están algo desdibujadas. En Chile, por ejemplo, el modelo perverso de estratificación social existe, también, para nuestra población, lo que distancia a los gais ricos de los más pobres. Así como hay quienes detestan la idea de matrimonio igualitario y sólo quieren uniones civiles, también hay homosexuales lesbo o transfóbicos; existen quienes gustan del gueto y otros que no, etc . Por lo mismo, identificar una comunidad se transforma en una difícil operación del intelecto. En este sentido, la diversidad opera hasta en sus acepciones más negativas cuando se trata de Latinoamérica.

He salido del clóset muchas veces. Primero lo hice con mis hermanos, quienes me lo preguntaron a los 18 años; luego con mis padres, a los 20; con mis amigos, a los 21; y con la sociedad completa, a mis 33, cuando publiqué un intercambio de emails sobre matrimonio igualitario con mi sobrino en la revista más leída de Chile, The Clinic. Creo que lo que hice a mis veinte fue el entrenamiento para lo que habría de venir. En esa década aprendí a monitorear quiénes serían comprensivos con mi realidad y a construir un discurso de autoafirmación y de autovalidación. Lo que sembré hace 15 años hoy lo estoy cosechando como activista.

I live my feelings with whomever I want, and so, I declare myself a very lucky man. I belong to the small percentage of Chileans that can grab their partner’s hand on the street, or can share a family or friend reunion without hiding my own essence. Unfortunately, the way a homosexual man lives and is treated in Chile doesn’t only concern orientation, but the socioeconomic environment he belongs to; being gay and poor in Latin America enhances discrimination, which leaves a gay man in an absolutely vulnerable position, for reasons I do not have to explain.

As a political cause, LGBTQ activism has been, in recent years, the great engine of my life. What’s happening to me, I believe, is happening to many more, because the voices supporting this cause have multiplied, just as the public spaces to do so. I speak from policy, but others -to an increasing extent- speak from academia, the arts, and science. Activism lives every day through our actions. The young man who argues with his grandmother about our rights, is also an activist. I usually talk about micro-activism, and I think, multiplied by thousands, it’ll be the one that will allow our culture to definitely change.

I don’t think there is an LGBTQ community in Santiago. I’d rather say population, because “community” supposes interest and joined necessities, which in the LGBTQ case, are not very clear. In Chile, for example, the perverse model of social stratification exists for the LGBTQ population, which broadens the gap between rich and poor gay men. In the same way, there are people in our community who detest the idea of marriage equality, and only want civil unions; there are also homosexuals who discriminate against lesbians or transgender people; there are some who love the ghetto, and others who don’t. Therefore, identifying a community becomes a difficult intellectual task. In this regard, diversity in Latin America operates even in its more negative senses.

I’ve came out of the closet many times. First with my brothers, who asked me at 18; then with my parents at 20; with my friends at 21; and with the rest of society at 33, when I published an exchange of e-mails with my nephew about marriage equality,on the most read magazine in Chile, The Clinic. I think what I did at 20’s was my training for the things to come. In that decade I learned to identify who would be comprehensive with my reality, and to create a speech of self-affirmation and self-validation. What I sowed 15 years ago, I am now harvesting as an activist.