Sushant Naidu
There comes a point in a conversation where one can choose to go deep, or be agreeable. Recently, a conversation I had with a complete stranger, in a different country, in a different language, taught me a powerful lesson. It all started with me fulfilling a promise I had kept a long time ago.
In college, I had promised myself that when I became a US citizen, I would travel to a Spanish speaking country. Spanish was my minor and I love the language. So, when I finally picked up my US passport, and school was out for a week, my boyfriend, Parks, and I decided to take a trip down to Ensenada, Mexico, which is a six hour drive from Los Angeles.
Gay marriage had recently become legal in Mexico, so it seemed like the perfect time to go out there. "It'll be a fun getaway, a great way to use my Spanish, and who knows, maybe I'll take a Spanish conversation lesson," I thought to myself.
As we drove down the scenic route on the coastal highway, we talked about the backlash against gay marriage and the anti-gay protests that were happening across Mexico. We discussed the iconic picture of a 12-year-old Mexican boy that had gone viral. In it, the boy is standing in the middle of a street, with his arms wide open, in front of a huge anti-gay protest. When asked by the photographer why he did that, the boy replied he had a gay uncle and didn't want the protesters to hate his uncle. I wanted to meet some local LGBT people in Mexico and see how their day-to-day lives might have been affected.
As we explored the touristy part of Ensenada, we were bombarded by excited servers, outside of restaurants, trying to get us to dine in. The friendly souvenir vendors were pretty aggressive as well. There were other tourist walking around. Amongst all of this, my eyes landed on an obscure handmade sign. "Private Spanish Conversation Lessons" it read. I headed over to inquire within. A lady named Rocio, in her early 60s, greeted us. She had the air of an Albuquerque artist. Her grey hair was neatly pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a loose short-sleeve white t-shirt that was neatly tucked into her faded blue jeans. She was able to fit me in for an hour and Parks decided to meet me after the lesson.
Earlier in the day, as Parks and I had strolled the streets of this small port town, I had a moment of hesitation whether it was safe to grab his hand in public... I decided to hold his hand, and shortly thereafter, became cognizant of a few prolonged stares and turned heads.
Maybe if I asked Rocio about the town sentiment towards LGBT people, I'd know if it'd be safe to hold hands for the rest of our trip. She began with asking me where I was from, what brought me to Mexico, where I had studied Spanish, etc. I realized she was evaluating my language proficiency. I had so many questions about her life in Ensenada.
I also wanted to know what she thought about gay marriage passing. There was a moment where I didn't know if I should ask this elderly native Mexican woman these questions. She had already commented earlier on how Parks looked like a blonde, green-eyed version of her son and advised him on the type of woman he should marry. Clearly she had no idea we were a couple. 'Should I just have a surface level conversation with her and be an agreeable student/tourist. What if she is anti-LGBT?' I thought. My heart was beating a little faster. I decided to take the risk and go deep.
I asked Rocio what she thought about gay marriage being legalized in Mexico. She said that she didn't necessarily believe in it because she valued traditional Mexican family values, where binary gender roles were clearly defined. She added that it was also better for kids.
I said to myself, "Don't try to change her opinion." Instead, I shared what growing up gay was like, how conflicted I was over my sexuality for a number of years because of sexual molestation I had experienced as an adolescent. I told her about my journey of making peace with my sexuality. We talked about her interactions with gay people, human rights, women's rights, the United Nations, Mexican politics, internalized homophobia, her upbringing, gender roles and even anal sex.
As our session came to an end, she asked, "Can you repeat the thing you mentioned about the alibi, earlier?" I repeated, "Tradition, and culture can no longer be used as alibis to deny people basic human rights." She jotted this down and said, "I'm going to think about this." As her next student came in, Rocio grabbed my hand, looked me in the eyes, and said, "I'm grateful for this session because I learned so many new things."
My insides were buzzing. I felt lighter. I felt changed. I realized I had put Rocio in a box because of her age. For a moment, I had decided what she would want to talk about or not. I didn't think she could rise up to challenge her beliefs. Maybe, they were too set in stone. Yet, in overcoming that moment of fear and hesitation, I was able to have an amazing conversation that transcended language, nationality, age, sex, and beliefs.
As I walked down the street, holding Parks' hand, I thought of the bravery of that little 12-year-old Mexican boy. More so, I was thinking about his gay uncle. How authentically and beautifully, he must've shown up in his nephew's life, in order to inspire that young boy to stand up to the huge group of protesters... I hope I have shown up just as authentically in my conversation with Rocio.