[X]Press Magazine’s Cultural Issue.

The November/December Issue of [X]Press Magazine came out, and this time, it focuses on the diverse cultures/subcultures of San Francisco. There’s a plethora of good stories: a transgender’s identity story, female skaters, clown college, Japanese lolita style, the resurrection of punk rock accordion, the nostalgia of vinyl records, bromances, douchebag culture, the gap year, underwater hockey, the aftermath of Ketsana in the Filipino community, African Americans migrating out of San Francisco, the underground of role-playing games. There’s a lot to love. I took great care with my story: Road to Love, the personal story of a woman’s coming out process. Here’s the link to all the goodies, [X]press, and my own story down below. Enjoy! =)

Road to Love
By Chris Huqueriza, associate editor and staff writer
photographs by Karli McAllister
November 16, 2009

On an unusually humid day in the streets of downtown San Francisco, a young twenty-eight-year-old girl reminisces. Rochelle “Chelly” Santiago built the perfect family that so many young girls aspire for: marry the perfect man, create a beautiful child, and snatch a lucrative and stable job. The cycle would continue with the prequisite family reunions, weekend outings, and dinner parties. She created the atomic family that can only be seen through television shows so that her family would be proud. She maintained this lifestyle for almost four years, but her mind always lingered on the hard fact that something was missing.

“I [was] happy, but something [was] wrong,” Santiago says with a puzzled look as she flips through a copy of Nylon Magazine inside a bookstore. Santiago knew she was gay and that she could not continue living a lie.

Growing up gay is hard. The homophobic slurs or the fear of acceptance can take a toll on anybody. According to a 1987 study by the Journal of Homosexuality, eighty percent of LBGT youths experience feelings of isolation.

Santiago sits in the bookstore, exuding a mood of vibrancy as her arms fly through the air and she speaks a mile a minute. Her partner, Leila, sits beside her in awe of Santiago ’s “fierce diva” aura. Leila sports a dark grey sweater and dark blue jeans, almost identical to Santiago ’s attire- a decision made by accident. They met online eight years ago during college.

She works for the Art Institute as an assistant director of admissions and sees life as a variety of options to explore. She grew up with strong traditional Christian Filipino beliefs. Her father was in the military and her family was very conservative. Santiago recalls something that her father once said: “Don’t be friends with gay people. They’re nothing but trouble.” Stunned, Santiago thought of what her father might think of her now.

Santiago’s own family never questioned her sexual orientation. She was very feminine growing up- she loved to dress up and play with her Barbie dolls. But at the age of five, she already knew she was gay. “I remember having a playmate and wanting to be with her the whole time,” Santiago says fondly.

In the first week of October, the nation celebrates National Coming Out Day: a day in which gays and lesbians celebrate their pride and encourage others to come out. This special day began after many members of the LBGT community demanded equal rights in a 1988 national march in Washington, D.C.

Hiding her true sexual identity until she was twenty years old, Santiago found support through the online community and met similar women. “In the U.S., it’s just a college thing,” says Santiago. “In the Filipino culture, it’s not. It’s forbidden and looked down upon.” After coming out, she left her boyfriend of two years for a girl. Many of her friends and family disapproved of her life choices. She carried on playing both sides and eventually attended college in the Philippines.

One of the most vital reasons gay and lesbians stray away is because of acceptance and abuse. According to gay rights organization Stonewall’s 2007 report, ninety-two percent of young gay people had been subject to verbal abuse, and forty-one percent to physical abuse.

In April 2005, she went the traditional route and married her boyfriend. Three years later, she was pregnant. But as her marriage carried on, she kept in contact with Reyes.
Santiago recalls 2008 as a bittersweet year, remembering the excuses she made to Reyes about meeting up and their growing relationship. But on a random day in August, Reyes surprised Santiago as she popped through her work doors. Santiago holds Reyes’ hand as she remembers her big smile and hugging for over five minutes. Reyes roomed at Santiago’s apartment and quickly their bond grew.

Reyes remembers their courtship, but she blushes and hides her face through a magazine. She recalls the memories as acting clueless and absent-minded. “I had no idea,” Reyes explains. “She looked like she had the perfect family. I couldn’t ruin that.”
Their courtship progressed through the months and they finally confronted each other about mutual feelings of discontent. Santiago divorced her husband in January 2009 and moved out the following month. “My husband was embarrassed. My friends were looking at me and thinking, ‘What the fuck did you do to your life?’ “I couldn’t go back and say I was bi-curious.”

Santiago plays with her iPhone and wonders if her family is more worried about God’s approval or if they are embarrassed. Santiago felt the backlash as she spent her holidays in solitude.

Santiago’s 22-month-old daughter is the center of her life. “Everybody worries about the child. They’re worried that she will be confused about why she has two mothers,” Santiago says. She has physical custody while her father visits on the weekdays. “In a child’s eyes, love is universal. She’s like a sponge, and if she sees people acting homophobic, she’ll be the same.” Reyes jokes that it is better to have two mothers anyway.

Santiago believes that coming out is a personal journey, and that each individual will know when the time is right. “Or time will figure it out for you,” Santiago laughs as she squeezes Reyes’ hand, showing off their matching commitment rings. [X]

Twilight Mania At The Stonestown Mall.

Monday evening belonged to the vampires and the werewolves. And in particular, the fans of the supernatural bombarded the Stonestown mall with fanatics lined up at 7:30 in the morning. They were misled that the show was canceled, but later on in the day, MILFs, guilty college students, and middle school tweens shouted to two of the stars from the epic pantheon: Kellan Lutz and Ashley Greene. Now I’m not a fan of the Twilight movies/books at all, but I was starstruck at their beauty. They are sculpted in perfection and both have charisma to woo all the audience. There were less than 1,000 people, unlike the craziness of last year’s Rob Mania. With no further ado, I provide simple pictures and vids that took place in San Francisco, Monday November 9.

Ingenious Thoughts.

I had nowhere to input these ingenious thoughts, so I’m giving a few quick thoughts on my blog. These would have been great ideas for stories, but they still need a lot of work to fully get there. Until then, enjoy my thoughts.

Pizza Parlors:

Inside the buildings of Downtown San Francisco, there lies an underground room engorged with 80s nostalgia. Vinyl records of Madonna and Prince are plastered against the wall while the stereo plays hits like Duran Duran’s “Wild Boys” and Stacey Q’s “Two of Hearts.” No, it’s not a special 80s nightclub or a black hole leading to a 80s recording studio; it is a pizza parlor. It’s the most common place to eat, but many small pizza parlors adorn themselves with the decade of Atari, vinyl records, and shoulder pads.

By definition, pizza parlors are places where pizzas are made and sold. But the décor of the 1980s is so common for the natural observant that it’s cemented in their mind. There’s not a trace of why pizza parlors are created in that form, but the decadent decade and the pizza parlor fit perfectly with the underground subculture. Many non-bourgeoisie, San Francisco-based pizza parlors are adorned with the 80s: Escape from New York in the Haight district is named after the 80s movie, Roundtable Pizzas have the arcade games, and Blondie’s Pizza is located underground with album covers of the decade.

Cursive Writing:

It just occurred to me that no one writes in cursive handwriting. What was once a painstakingly agonizing middle school practice activity has become a relic. I remember writing to distinguish my Vs to by Us, but never got it. My teacher probably reprimanded me, but really, they are oblivious to the fact that they are teaching an activity that will NEVER be used. Can they teach useful activities like online typing? Cursive Writing is mainly used for signature writing and for those people who feel the need to write chicken scratch to their superiors. Good luck.

Slow Dancing:

What song do you remember slow dancing to in middle school? Mine? Spice Girls’ “Too Much.” I remember asking a plethora of people and they’ve named songs from Ginuwine’s “Differences” to Boyz II Men’s “End of the Road.” Memories that I believe people would like to forget. Ah, yet another lost art form that is rarely used- if ever. This lost dance form harkens back to the simple times of the middle school years. I don’t even remember slow dancing in high school. But it is a lost art form in the simple practice of courting the opposite sex- then screwing them. Sure, there are places that still use slow dancing like ballroom dancing, but in the arenas of nightclubs and bars, slow dancing is simply irrelevant. I do love the description that wikipedia.com provides:

“Slow dancing” is often associated with a particular, simple style of dance performed by middle school and high school students. Foot movement is minimal, but the couple may use their feet to slowly turn on the spot. Because the dance requires little physical concentration, participants often talk to each other while dancing. Slow dancing is often considered to be just hugging and swaying, rather than an actual dance.

This simple form of slow dancing is common at dances sponsored by schools or by religious organizations, such as churches or synagogues. In Western popular culture, slow dancing can serve as a symbol of adolescent social awkwardness.”