Arturo Magaña

ArturoMagaña Featured

For Arturo Magaña, folclórico dance is an expression of their Mexican and LGBTQ+ cultures.

Magaña has a deep understanding of who they are and what matters to them, including being their authentic self; a gift they received at an early age from their mother.

“This is who I am. I need to represent myself,” they declared to Susan Cashion, co-founder of the Los Lupenos Dance Company, asserting their right to dance with men and perform wearing a skirt.

Today, Ensamble Folclórico Colibri, which Magaña directs and co-founded, strives to brings a sense of acceptance to LGBTQ+ people.

“I’ve seen the faces of young people and their parents when we are performing,” they said. “They see themselves and they see the representation and the pride of our heritage as queer men, or as a lesbian or as a nonbinary person

Colibri includes members both in and outside the LGBTQ+ community. The dance company accepts straight members to show solidarity with its allies. But not everyone is a supporter.

In 2018, the organization experienced pushback by a Folclorico group in Mexico which threatened to request the Mexican government stop them from performing. But Magaña would not be cowed.

“We put our foot down and we said, ‘we’re not going anywhere. You can do whatever you want. We have a freedom of expression,’” they said.

As a result, within a month, Colibri’s likes on Facebook rose from less than a thousand to about 9,000. Unfortunately, the group still faces some backlash from those who feel it goes against tradition.

“It’s more of this fear and repression,” Magaña said. “When we put on our show, I added a tagline that said, ‘We’re not here to change tradition. We’re here to add our stories because they matter.’”

Sharing its community stories through dance is everything to Magaña, and sometimes has the power to change perspective. In 2018, Colibri performed a traditional piece called Quadro with the addition of a lesbian wedding and a dance portraying two men falling in love.

“People saw us in a different light,” Magaña said. “It wasn’t just about dancing men to men or women to women. It was for us to convey our day-to-day story because that’s what folclórico does.”

While performing in an event with the California School for the Deaf, a seven-year-old trans dancer who was so moved, she started crying and hugging them and asked to wear one of their skirts. Her mother said it was life changing for her daughter and made her feel seen.

“That to me, was probably the best acknowledgement that we have received,” Magaña said.

Looking back

In 1992, at age 18, Magaña witnessed men dancing together for the first time during a ProLatino folclórico performance. Intrigued, they joined the dance troupe, which was invited to Washington, D.C. to dance for the Peace March, in addition to performing during San Jose Pride and San Francisco Pride festivals.

After ProLatino dissolved around 1995, Magaña joined the elite dance company Los Lupenos de San Jose as a lead dancer. They stayed with them for about 15 years, performing in ethnic dance festivals and touring with renown artists such as Linda Ronstadt and Lila Downs.

To bring folclórico to the LGBTQ community, they joined Colectivo ALA, Colibri, which eventually became its own entity. The troupe marched in the San Francisco Pride Parade I 2016, receiving an award for the most vibrant and colorful group and honorable mention from the city and county of San Francisco. It annually participates in Silicon Valley Pride. Colibri also headlined Latino Pride in Seattle. They were honored to be invited by Somos Seattle, a queer organization focused on representation of the Latino community.

Colibri was adopted by the School of Arts and Culture at Mexican Heritage Plaza in 2017 as a cultural partner. In 2018, it performed a stage production boasting 40 dancers, including performers from Mexico’s Grupo Folclórico Teocalli. Colibri is also cultural partners with Mosaic America and was featured in 2024 at the World Arts West Festival.

Getting personal

Magaña, a native of Juarez, Mexico was born in 1974. They immigrated to the U.S. in 1988 with their family. Not knowing English and feeling alienated, they experienced culture shock. At school, they were taught all their lessons in an ESL classroom with other people Spanish speakers.

But they felt blessed their mother accepted them as they were and gave them the freedom to pursue their passions.

“I always knew who I was as a queer person,” Magaña said. “I didn’t really have the name, of being queer or gay but I knew I was different.”

Magaña started dance at ten years old at the Casa de Cultura in Mexico. Seeing Folklorico ProLatino in connected them to Mexico, introduced the possibility of two men dancing together and helped define who Magaña was.

To be their authentic self and have self-express as a queer artist, Magaña parted ways with Los Lupenos in 2015.

“There was an opportunity where we got invited to dance and dance men to men,” they said. “I asked permission… and I was denied. I was pouring all my heart and soul into dance, and to represent Los Lupenos and my culture and I was being poured into a cage.”

At the School of Arts and Culture, performing in 2015 with the male co-director was a personal turning point.

“We got on stage… holding hands and holding partners, and we didn’t even want to touch ourselves because we were in front of an audience,” Magaña said. “We didn’t know how they were going to react, so we were very timid. Through the middle of the song, we heard the kids start clapping and cheering. At that moment, something sparked. We were afraid of our own identity, how we were going to be received by other people. But other people are enamored with what we’re doing. It was the right time for Colibri to be part of the community.”

Magaña found strength in RuPaul’s advice.

“I learned you don’t have to pay attention to anyone. You do something that you love because you love it,” they said. “And if other people cannot accept it, (it) is their fear, not the fact that you’re doing something wrong.”

They enjoy performing with Colibri in festivals.

“When people see us dance, they appreciate the color, they appreciate the dance. They appreciate the beauty of the art and it’s beautiful,” Magaña said, adding the troupe performed with the San Francisco Symphony and San Francisco Opera and was featured on the mainstage at the San Francisco Pride celebration.

LGBTQ+ folklorico groups in Mexico emulating Colibri’s mission feels like a seal of approval to Magaña that what Colibri is doing and has done is the right thing.

“It’s representing ourselves as who we are, doing a cultural art, performing a cultural piece as we are,” they said, adding their piece include activism. “We have beautiful pieces that depict a gay wedding, lesbian wedding. We have a beautiful piece from Michoacan that actually depicts the violence that is perpetrated on our trans community. Not all of our stories are happy stories. The main character does not survive. But it’s the reality of what happens to our community. Colibri being a social justice group… and we represent our community… it’s important for us to represent every aspect of our community.”

As Program Manager for Avenida’s Rainbow Collective, which provides services and enrichment for the LGBTQ+ older community, Magaña feels he in the right place at the right time.

“The fact that they are celebrating the community, that they’re doing research to improve the health of our community, is important to me,” Magaña said. “Now that I’m about to be 50… I think that I was placed in this position to also look at myself and look at the services that I need as an aging queer artist. Sadly, our elder community goes back into a closet because of the generation that they grew up in. So having the ability to offer this type of service is very important.”

Magaña said they want to be able to lend a hand, advocate for somebody, provide support and represent their community.

“I think that one of the biggest compliments I have received when I perform,” Magaña said, “is from an audience member that says,’ I see myself in you. You are representing myself and my culture.’”

Read more about Ensamble Folclórico Colibri here.

ProLatino

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The first meeting of ProLatino was held in February 1992 at the Billy DeFrank Center. Thirteen people attended. The group formed out of the need for a safe environment for gay Latinos to meet and discuss their community, health, and HIV/AIDS. J Alejandro (Alex) Campos Vidrio was the first president of the group, and Omar Nunez was vice-president.

Alex organized meetings every other Tuesday, asking participants to bring a new person with them at each meeting. The group grew from 13 to 27, then 38, and kept going from there. Eventually, they couldn’t fit in the original meeting rooms. They moved to the main ballroom in the Billy DeFrank Center’s Stockton Avenue location. Sixty people came to each meeting and participated in a variety of events.

Although forming ProLatino was a huge step in the direction of healing the LGBTQ+ Latino community, Alex’s goal of creating a safe environment was still not met. Working with Esperanza Garcia Walters, they wrote a grant proposal to host a retreat for the LGBTQ+ Latino community, which they received. The first retreat was held at a Catholic center in Mission San Juan Bautista with 30 gay men participating. Discussions included breaking down institutionalized and cultural homophobia, and the layers of growing up gay in a community that rejected them. They heard stories like being dragged by a horse through their hometowns in Mexico for being gay, or wanting to commit suicide because of their sexuality. These were shared in a safe space with a focus on healing. The retreat was so successful that over time they offered as many retreats as they could afford, which is what Alex had set out to accomplish.

The initial years were very busy. In 1993 they were invited to be part of the San Jose gay parade, the first Latino group to march in it. Members who did drag were embraced as a way to show that no one from any part of the LGBTQ community was excluded. ProLatino worked with other LGBTQ organizations to be more welcoming of the Latino community. At ARIS, for example, they worked to create the group “Entre Hombres” for gay Latino men who were HIV positive. They produced information about AIDS in Spanish, the only such literature available.

Alex remembers the Latino community had the idea that if you were gay, it makes you part woman, which makes you less than a man. “This idea makes you feel and think that you don’t deserve much, but ProLatino broke through those barriers,” he said. Alex made sure to reach out to other groups, including Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, and others. “Our group felt safe because it wasn’t led by a white man–it was led by peers in the community,” he said.

In 1996, the group became a 501(c)(3) with a board of directors and co-chairs to run the organization. Omar Nunez was one of only two people who remained active with the group from the time it formed in 1992 until it went out of existence around 2011/2012. He remembers the retreats fondly. “They were open to everyone who wanted to attend, and people came from all over the Bay Area. Many of the men who attended were immigrants who only spoke Spanish. The retreats created a safe space for them that they had never experienced. It was very empowering.”

The workshops put on by ProLatino were very popular. They provided a place separate from the bars where people could get to know each other. “There was a tremendous void for the Latino community,” said Omar. “Here we were, almost a majority of the population, and there was nothing for us. ProLatino filled that void. It provided social and cultural programs, along with AIDS prevention services. Along with retreats, we did exhibits, education, art, theater, and parties. I’d say we had a couple hundred people a year attend our programs, resulting in well over a thousand gay Latinos connecting to our group.”

“It was an interesting and wonderful time,” said Omar. “People were ready and willing to do something for their community. It was a very unique period. I haven’t seen that type of community spirit since. It may never happen again.”

In 2005, Omar ran the program “Vida y Salud” (Life and Health) for gay Latino men with HIV.

In 2010, he was hired at the Santa Clara County’s PACE Clinic, a county-run clinic for HIV/AIDS patients. As a Community Health Outreach Specialist, he does outreach for the clinic, education for new patients, and interpretation services for doctors.


In 2000, with the support of Miquel Perez, David Castro was elected president of ProLatino. He remembers it as a tough time to get program funding because of the stiff competition for dollars. Since ProLatino had become a non-profit, they were able to receive grants from the state to provide HIV/AIDS services to the Spanish-speaking community. “Neil Christie was very supportive of us and he wrote a request for funding for a new support group,” David said. The center, which would become the Neil Christie Living Center after Neil passed away from AIDS, is where ProLatino  began to have educational programs for the Spanish-speaking community. Eventually, due to lack of funding, The Health Trust began to manage the center.

 The blending of ProLatino as a social group and the non-profit “Grupo ProLatino de San Jose” proved to be problematic, especially since David was advocating for both. Eventually, the non-profit lost its financing and no longer had money to pay staff. David then left the board and moved to Arizona in 2005 where he attended college and got a BA in Spanish and English translation and interpretation and continued to work on his master’s degree.

David has fond memories of the services that ProLatino provided to the Spanish-speaking community. “I used to get calls from married men with children who learned they were HIV positive, and it was difficult for them to handle their personal life. They only spoke Spanish so they didn’t know which way to go or what to do, and many wanted to commit suicide. I would meet with them after work and we would talk for hours about everything that was going on. I would eventually get them services, and I felt very good about that.”

Alejandro Campos

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In the late 1980s, J Alejandro (Alex) Campos Vidrio was a 21-year-old gay Mexican college student at San Jose. Like most Latinos, he grew up in a homophobic community, where he found that the stigma of being gay and the stigma of HIV was widespread enough for him not to come out. One of his friends had been in a relationship with someone who tested positive for HIV, so he accompanied him to the free clinic for an HIV test.

At the time, Alex knew nothing of the disease. In a counseling session, a nurse asked him a series of questions to determine if he was at risk. Before that, Alex had not told anyone he was gay, but when the nurse asked the question, he confirmed his sexuality. Because he was gay, this put him in the high risk group for HIV, so he took the test.

Two weeks later, he arrived at the clinic alone to receive his results: he was negative. The visit was so short that he stopped the nurse from leaving the appointment to ask her how he could help his Latino community get informed about HIV and learn how to protect themselves. The nurse explained there was no program for that at the time and suggested he get involved in creating options for his community. So he began volunteering. It was there that he met nurse Esperanza Garcia Walters and nurse Maria who would assist him in spreading awareness to the Latino LGBTQ community.

Alex’s first volunteer event was at Stanford University’s Walk for AIDS. Although he was there to help, he kept a distance between himself and the leaders with HIV, still scared of attracting the stigma of HIV. The walk, and how many people participated in it, made an impact on him.

Alex began attending a meeting of gay men in the Latino community at Club St. John on Mondays. Over time, he brought condoms and pamphlets and offered HIV counseling. Outside the meetings, participants didn’t even acknowledge each other for fear of being identified as gay.

At that time, Alex began seeing a Catholic Latino. One weekend he joined him on a retreat, which emphasized that participants were in a safe environment and would be protected by their peers and a higher power. The retreat changed his worldview: He wanted that kind of space for the gay Latino community to gather.

After he returned, he approached the Billy DeFrank Center, asking to host a gay Latino community night. They quickly turned him down, saying he was too young and not serious enough. He kept trying. Through his volunteering at the clinic, Esperanza Garcia Walters invited him to have dinner at an HIV patient’s home. He became close friends with the couple, and the dinner became a weekly gathering of friends. Alex and others fixed up the house, making it brighter, more comfortable, so it felt like a safe space. They called him “Chispa,” meaning “spark,” because he made them feel more alive.

Alex continued to pass out literature and condoms, attempting to connect with his community. His efforts were met with resistance; he was kicked out of many clubs and restaurants for doing so. He attended a meeting at the Billy DeFrank Center, voicing concerns that literature wasn’t available in Spanish for the Latino community, that they had neither a safe place to congregate nor resources away from the public. The DeFrank Center finally offered him space on Monday nights. Campos made a flyer inviting folks to “come and share with us,” as a way around using stigmatizing words like “gay” or “HIV.”

For the first meeting in 1992, Alex made 25 folders with pamphlets of information, condoms, and other resources. Thirteen people showed up, beating his own expectations. Attendees asked him to hold another meeting, so he spoke to Mark and was approved. The meetings were scheduled every other Tuesday. Every person attending committed to bring one more person with them to each meeting. This was the beginning of ProLatino.

In 1998, Alex decided to step down from ProLatino in order to take care of himself. He moved to San Francisco and joined the HIV Prevention Working Group of the State of California, traveling across the state, gathering data and analyzing trends in the virus’s spread.

In 1999, Alex went on vacation to Hawaii and according to him “never left.” He attended the University of Hawaii and worked at the School of Medicine as a director of the Pre-Health Career Corps. Due to the pandemic, he has not been working since March 2020.

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One of Alejandro Campos’s proudest moments working with ProLatino came while attending a conference with the Department of Education in Hawaii in 2011. He learned about LLEGO’s (National Latino/a Lesbian and Gay Organization) opportunities for the LGBTQ+ community and attended a workshop about retreats. The Hawaiian group cited what they learned about retreats from a San Francisco group, which they learned from a Bay Area local, who turned out to be Campos. This moment validated all the work he did through ProLatino. His ideals had spread throughout the country, even making it to Hawaii. — Alejandro Campos