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"It is indeed much easier to dismiss or eliminate on the pretext of difference (destroy the Other in our mind, in our world) than to live fearlessly with and within differences" (Trinh Minh-ha, from Woman, Native, Other)
This issue of maganda features queer artists not so much to specialize or differentiate the queer Pilipina/o American voice(s) from the heterosexual "norm" (though this too is important) but, also, to "normalize" the idea of queer individuals within our community. 10% of this population is queer and we as Pilipinas/os and Pilipina/o Americans need to recognize the various desires, relationships, and politics that inform our community.
There has always been a queer presence throughout Pilipino American history. As Jessica Hagedorn states, Pilipinos are a queer race. The freedom to state our desires is constantly constrained by the stereotypes that pervade our culture: the bakla hair dresser, the tomboy tita who has surprisingly never been married, the married man who has sex in dark alleys with men only to bring disease back to his innocent family.
Today's queer Flips challenge these categories continuously with the mere existence of "alternative" models of living: from the couple cruising through suburbia that can hide their love for one another to the recently immigrated lesbian, from the young woman presenting a "rebellious" voice that rejects a society that has inscribed her to a lesbian that attempts to support her lover's own traumatizing past. The voices that speak from this marginalized space(s) are as multiple as the forms in which their narratives take.
As a diasporic people, we constantly deal with the issues of homeland and origins. To think that sexuality is an either/or situation is a fallacy for, just as we travel across borders of nations and states, we travel daily, back and forth, across borders of sexuality and gender. The beauty of the Pilipina/o is not just done in the straight context, being queer is not just done in the white context. As queer Pilipinas/os, we have the power to construct identity/ies for ourselves from the various spaces we inhabit.
In this issue, I challenge you to not only face the images/scenes presented and work to understand the language(s) of the dialogue(s) that is/are taking place, but, also to engage in your own position in the activity of each visual and/or literal piece. Where do you stand next to, in opposition of, inside the parameters of each piece and this magazine as a whole? How do the issues presented by each piece affect your own life/ves and identity/ies formation? What does this issue compel you to do within various communities, whether they be Pilipina/o American, queer, woman, man, heterosexual, artistic, or academic? What do you feel has been left out of the dialogues within the pages of maganda #11 and what do plan on doing about it? What is/are your role(s) in continuing the fight for queer Pilipina/o American spaces and who/what are you accountable to?
Christine Bacareza Balance
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