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Galería de la Raza’s “Por Vida” mural stirred a heated discussion among Latino and LGBTQ communities after its installation on June 13, so much so that it was vandalized four times: initially with spray paint and finally set on fire.
The arson attack, which occurred on June 29, was captured on security cameras and the San Francisco Police Department is still looking for the perpetrator. On July 18 the SFPD released the arson video to the public asking for help identifying the suspect, who appeared completely covered in black clothing and wearing white shoes as he lit the mural on fire and then ran away. So far no one has come forward.
A week after the video’s release, Galería de la Raza held an open forum on July 25 to discuss with the community what happened and share different thoughts on the issue. None of those who publicly opposed the mural (mostly on social media) showed up.
“Although there’s lots of haters who are typing things onto their phones, there are actual real people on the block that are doing personal interactions with young people based on this event,” said Nancy Pili, a social activist, artist and panelist.
About 100 people filled City College of San Francisco’s Mission Campus auditorium, where many members of the Latino LGBTQ community were present. All of those who spoke showed support of Galería de la Raza and the mural’s artist, Manuel Paul, who was among the panelists.
Critics of the mural have said it was a form of cultural appropriation, misrepresenting their culture while portraying something that didn’t exist: LGBT cholos and cholas. The mural showed a gay couple, a lesbian couple and a transgender man in a lowrider-style portrait.
“They are calling it ‘culture vulturism,’” Pili said. “The idea of cholos being portrayed by people who are not cholos … They feel like their stories have been written for them.”
When attendee Yolanda Lopez looks at the mural, she sees another message: “This is our family. This is who we are,” she said, arguing that this is what the mural ultimately represents.
The resounding message, even if the mural brought hateful comments and actions, was that it also helped spur the conversation about accepting LGBTQ people within the Latino community.
“It’s a blessing in disguise,” muralist and panelist Carlos “Kookie” Gonzalez said. “This mural shows the power that art has.”
Machismo, religion and family pressures, as well as gang culture, can play a big part in the upbringing of Latino youths, who often grow up thinking being gay is not acceptable.
“That’s how we were brought up,” said Joanna Bermudez-Hernandez, a re-entry program monitor and panelist at the event. “The mural really sparked up a lot of conversations in people’s homes.”
When he came out at 15, artist and activist Joey Terrell heard his mother say she would have preferred him being a heroin addict or a murderer. “If it wasn’t for your sister,” he remembered his mother telling him, “I would commit suicide.”
Terrell, who was also a panelist at the event, doesn’t blame her. “That’s how she was brought up,” he said.
“We have a responsibility as men to change this,” said artist and activist Juan Fuentes, who was also on the panel.
Many complained, however, that not many young people were present.
“I don’t see the people we are trying to educate,” Gonzales said. Having grown up within the gang culture himself, Gonzales said he understands the mindset behind the vandalism.
“A part of that culture, is homophobia,” he said. “There’s an anti-gay sentiment within the Latino community.”
Panelist Luciano Sagastume, a writer and community activist who is also a transgender man, said trans-, gay- and black-phobia separate the community. “It makes our power less visible,” he said.
Sagastume had to move to San Francisco before being able to call himself a trans man when he was 26. Sagastume said he came out at 15 but was still confused about his identity. Without seeing himself represented anywhere, he didn’t even know he could be trans. “I had never seen a trans man,” he said.
It is for this very reason that the mural is so important to so many.
“We take public space and we assert the right that we exist,” Pili said. “They can go paint the mural of straight cholos across the street if they like.”
The “artist who created all the stink,” as Gonzales called him, said he would have never thought the mural would have triggered a reaction this big. Paul is from the Los Angeles-based Maricón Collective, a group of Chicano/Latino LGBTQ DJs and artists.
“I thought it would be OK to put the mural in that area,” he said. “Once it got out in the real world it got really scary.”
Paul was worried by Galería restoring the mural twice, but he then realized that it was a good way to keep the conversation going. He said many of his friends found the courage to come out to their parents because of it.
Denise Benavides, a Galería de la Raza supporter, said she had to move out before finding the courage to say she was a “queer Chicana” to her family. Nobody in her extended family of more than 50 people is openly gay.
“I wish that more of the young people were here,” Pili said. “We need to talk face to face, not on the Internet.”
Galería de la Raza executive director Ani Rivera said the forum was “a step in the right direction,” and that the conversation would continue.
“We are a community por vida,” Fuentes said.