no better tool to start a conversation around immigration than to have actual immigrants share their story. That’s what we focused on at the nonprofit that I cofounded and helped run for a few years [El Cambio]. Helping immigrants refine their stories and tell them, that’s the technical idea behind what we do. It’s the most effective tool we have to combat ignorance and the stereotypes that are so entrenched in society. Was it a culmination of things, or was there a specific event that inspired you to become an activist? It was a couple of different things. I was


first introduced to the immigration reform movement in March of 2010 during the March for America. Hundreds of thousands of immigrants came to Washington D.C. to really ask for a pathway towards citizenship. That was my first taste of what being an activist was. I think it was my first taste of liberation, as well. I had always been


undocumented and in the shadows. Now, I was part of the masses and I no longer felt alone, it was pretty heady stuff. It’s so powerful when you gain the knowl- edge that you are not alone and not isolated. It has such an interesting and strong parallel with coming out and being gay. Yes, it really does. I grew up queer and undocumented in rural America. I don’t think people actually understand how coming from rural landscapes and small towns are a universe away from urban areas, especially places like Los Angeles or New York, where I’m living now. For me, to be around hundreds of thousands of immigrants and potentially just as many who are undocu- mented, it was a very liberating moment. It’s a layering of oppression and a layering


of discrimination that I think as human beings we’re just not prepared for. I think fundamentally we all want to belong, whether it’s in our families, our communities


or wherever, human beings are social animals. That is how we evolved and how we survived. Especially for me, to have such an alienating experience was difficult. I didn’t feel comfortable at home or telling my parents that I was queer, or being in high school because I was queer and I didn’t feel comfortable in high school telling my friends I was undocumented. I never felt like I completely belonged anywhere. It was an incredibly alienating experience that has taken me years to disentangle. There is power in it once you understand that and claim your story, because it is part of what makes you uniquely who you are. It’s something that really comes across in the film, your struggle and yet your ability to turn that into action. Thank you. For me specifically, I graduated from


high school in 2007 and I was barred from going to college and again, living in the middle of nowhere, there were few resources. I was battling with depression and as I said before, it was a layering process. Having no support system and no access either to mental health resources as an undocu- mented immigrant added to it. I was working in a factory in 2010 from seven at night to seven in the morning and it was during that time where I hit my rock bottom. Every single day I had to go to a job where I faced homophobia and hostility from coworkers, who I knew were talking about me. My father had been laid off because of the recession and I knew I had to continue because I needed to support my family. I felt like I had to hide every part of my identity and that it was always under attack. There was only one place for me to go from there


and that was up. There was another experience I found working in that factory, it was the mothers and the women who worked there who told me their stories. All of them were undocumented and they would talk about how they would work 12 hours at the factory, then go to hotels right after their shifts at 7 a.m., just to make ends meet. That made me realize how privileged I actually was and it also made me realize how angry I was. These women shouldn’t have to kill themselves just to survive and that injustice really motivated me. It made me want to take action for my community. Part of why this documentary is powerful is it reflects a lifetime of experiences both good and bad. That’s pretty rare, especially when it comes to someone LGBT and undocumented. When did you come up with the idea of creating it as a documentary? I can’t take credit for the idea. This film is alive due to the amazing work that Tiffany Rhynard put


SEPTEMBER 2017 | RAGE monthly 37


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64