Tag Archives: oregon

Donovan, Portland, Oregon

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo  by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Donovan, in his own words: “Being queer to me is freedom. Freedom to be myself. Freedom to live, love or not love in the way that I choose. Being queer is dictating my life in a way that suits me and my ultimate health and happiness. Queer is a strength and rite of passage. I had to come here from some other place. I had to arrive at the place of my truest self.

Self acceptance was and is my biggest failure and also my greatest success. I still fail daily at releasing the ingrained moors of a restrictive and religious upbringing, abusive family construct and learned self-loathing. It’s also where my greatest triumph lies because I am learning daily to adore the creature I am, to nurture self-care and to be a solid pliable strength to those who maybe aren’t quite there yet. I learn a lot from falling down hard.

I don’t know too much about the gay community in Portland. It’s a different scene here than coming from the few other cities I’ve lived like Phoenix or Boston where everyone goes to the same bar week after week. Portland has a thriving queer/trans underground that is doing amazing things. In that “scene” I’ve found a family; a community that supports one another and lives each other’s triumphs and sorrows. I suppose it really depends on what you’re looking for what you’ll find. If one can’t understand that they can’t really know what they’re missing.

I did a bit of a peekaboo I think in coming out. I knew very young that I was attracted to men as I developed crushes on my friends and older male figures very rapidly early on in my childhood. I think to this day I tend to fall in love pretty quickly though much more tentatively.

I wrote a pretty graphic letter to my father when I was 13 in reaction to a rather violent abusive episode in particular; coming out to him out of spite I think. My parents ignored the letter and when I confronted them was told in a very stern Jamaican Patois that I wasn’t gay and to go to my room.

It took until I moved to Boston 6 years later for me to begin living as a then identified actualized gay man. I made a point to never sleep with the same guy twice for years and used to keep a black moleskin documenting each of my sexual escapades in the city with a descriptor of the trick, the act, and the date. I stopped when I filled the book.

I ended up re-closeting myself when I got signed to an indie record label in 2003 fresh out of school. They felt It didn’t fit the image and I wasn’t as strong as I am now to disagree. I became incredibly depressed and suicidal and even manic at times. That shame we carry can eat a soul up. I think those were probably some of my darkest days.

When I was dropped from the label and that door closed I moved to Portland to start afresh. I came here to rekindle a music career and ended up finding a community and family that support me in my growth as a spiritual being and decent human. I’m 10 times beyond where I ever imagined I could be as an actualized and accepted queer person of color. Things aren’t perfect but I am constantly growing and evolving. That will forever be my story.

I’d tell my (younger)self that I didn’t have to change a thing. That I was perfect from the get go…that I still am. To relax. It’s seriously all gonna turn out fine. To trust my gut. It’s the strongest asset I have. Most of all, that my strength is in my softness. Cultivate that.”

Kimo, Department Coordinator, Portland, Oregon

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

In Kimo’s own words:“Being queer for me has been a journey of coming to terms with myself and reconciling my past to forge a sustainably healthy and happy future. I was born on a small island called Saipan thrown in the ocean between somewhere and nowhere, I won’t lie it was complete paradise but it was paradise for the heterosexual machismo type guy – I was and am not that person. Most people ask where the heck is Saipan and for some just saying my island’s near Guam is enough, for others who think Guam is in the India Ocean I give more recognizable markers, south of Japan and east of Philippines – this vague broad area satisfies a western colonized frame of geography. On this small paradise being queer was a zero sum game, I could live a never-happy calm and fake straight life or I could live a challenging open queer life. Neither option sat well with me so I scrounged up some scholarship money, booked a flight to Portland, and I’ve been living a life I know I don’t regret a moment of since. I am living an intersectional existence, I was born on a US territory automatically giving me US citizenship but it came at a cost that I am continuously assessing. I say this because though I have been granted US citizenship many “Americans” never truly see me as one, I say this because my American identity clashes with my indigenous roots, I say this because my mother who is from the Republic of Palau navigates the US as an immigrant and so my narrative will always be effected by immigration policy, attitudes towards immigrants, conversations concerning immigrants, I say this because my people under this administration is starting to feel what it is truly like to be under the thumb of a white man in power and most Americans don’t even know this let alone recognize this chasm of disconnect between being an American and living as a modern day US colonial subject in 2018 – though this has always been the case for indigenous communities around the world. My intersectional existence is a mixture of my Queer, Indigenous, Fem, american POC identities and like all things living this too continues to change and grow. Living a Queer POC life in Portland is a constant fight of recognition, of defending my identities, expressing my self worth. It’s a struggle living in a majority white liberal city like Portland where I have to navigate both white wokeness and white ignorance sometimes both at the same time with the same person – I’ve become very good at juggling lately. I’ve also had to work harder towards finding my communities and nourishing my budding brown fem indigenous spirit all the while being in that limbo state of mind where I am in my late 20s thinking shit am I adulting yet or could I escape that for just a few more years? The answer regrettably is I am adulting and I have to suck it up and grow up. The advice I would give a younger me would be to breathe more, take a moment from everything to take a breath – constantly fighting to exist can be draining so don’t be afraid to take moment for yourself and breathe in the air, the space, the life you are fighting for.’

Jott, Senior Research Assistant, Portland, Oregon

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo  by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Jott, in his own words: “Being gay means having a clean slate. I find that extremely liberating. You can have kids if you want. You can be single your whole life if you’d like. You can have two partners at once. You can get married. You can be into show tunes, or gardening, or BDSM, or Palm Springs, or comic books, or Instagram, or drag, or video games, or dogs, or cats, or motorcycles…whatever you’d like.

I think when met with hate, the LGBTQ community finds its voice. Since the election I keep reading about more and more LGBTQ people running for office. It’s our reaction that matters.

(My coming out story is) fairly boring in the best way. My parents already knew I was gay, which I have to say was a relief. When I came out to them it was very anticlimactic.

(The gay community in Portland) can be the best and the absolute worst. Now that I’m older and so much more confident with myself I find it much easier to navigate.

(Advice to my younger self) Stop looking over your shoulder and giving a shit about what other people think.”