On election day, it was my turn to host movie night for a group of friends from my high school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. We watched the German masterpiece “Wetlands,” and afterward, we needed to relax and unpack our daily drama. Macho Man was playing quietly in the background as we drank boxed wine and Dos Equis. The news was faintly playing as we chattered about Clinton, Trump, and the ridiculousness of the campaign. We ignored Anderson Cooper until we realized that the map of the states was turning overwhelmingly red. The laughter died down, I switched the music off, and everyone glued their eyes to the screen. While most of us started to panic, one pair of eyes watched in excitement as Trump was declared President of the United States. The room was silent. Then Alfonso, a smile spreading across his face, boasted, "I told you so."
Alfonso (whose name has been changed), a gay Filipino man, doesn't meet the typical demographic criteria of a Trump supporter. He remains a mystery even to those close to him due to his political affiliations. Even I have a hard time relating to him because of his beliefs, and we go way back. Since our childhood homes were only minutes apart, we practically grew up together. We were both born outside of the U.S. and forced to speak a weird brand of pidgin at home and battled the same cultural assimilation in the greater Houston area. I get angry when he defends our president, and a lot of our friends from the queer community have stopped talking to him completely because they associate Trump with fear and hatred. If I didn't know him so well, I might have joined them—but I could never throw away our friendship.
It's hard to stay mad at Alfonso, with his flamboyant personality and contagious laugh. He's still the same awkwardly-tall brown kid who has had my back since day one. From hate-watching “Glee” together to making me laugh when I wanted to cry, Alfonso has been a constant in my life. There are a million little things about him, like his love for Beyoncé and his Starbucks addiction, that make him an endearing person. His support of Trump doesn't change the fact that he volunteers at a gay homeless shelter in his spare time or leads groups at a local queer organization, Houston Area Teen Coalition of Homosexuals (HATCH). Constantly happy, he has a boyfriend going on two years now, and he’s always gushing about him. He inspires me with the way he takes care of those around him. He always listens with an open mind, refrains from judgement, and connects people in need of resources. Instead of closing himself off to the world, he loves openly and boundlessly; I wish I could be like that too. Yet somehow, he still believes that his political leanings don't hurt the people who he tries so tirelessly to protect.
Alfonso asserts, “As a gay man, I am not threatened by GOP opposition to queer identities.” He explains, “Any threat to my sexuality has already been solved by the decision to legalize same-sex marriage.” He says he feels safe under a Trump administration. “We have done so much. I feel like the progress we've made can't be undone. It's not a fight we need to carry on; we've already won.” Frustrated by his response, I roll my eyes over FaceTime.
I explain that despite the legal battles fought and won in the gay community, de facto discrimination is still well in effect. Republican claims to uphold traditional and family values continue to threaten gay and trans people on a cultural level. Just this past August, a nine-year-old in Denver committed suicide because he was bullied for being gay. Gay and trans youth are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight peers because of the social stigmas associated with being gay. When someone is deemed deviant or “other” by society at large, their mental health suffers. Although we protect queer people to some extent on a juridical level, social discrimination is still alive and well. The discrepancy between legal and social policing continues to have devastating effects upon the LGBTQ community.
Alfonso disregards my points and instead claims, “I have my reasons for liking Trump. For one, he's upended what we thought possible [in our political system]. He's an outsider. If anything, he understands the gay community more than presidents before. He's not crooked, and any shortcomings since his election are because of the structure of the government.” As a staunch supporter of Trump's economic reforms, Alfonso continues to assert that Trump’s corrupt administration is comprised of well-intentioned folk who want to “drain the swamp.” He believes that globalism, war, and big business, are destroying America, and he just hopes that Trump—who he understands as essentially rejected by both parties, and only begrudgingly let into GOP arms—can solve our ever-widening political divide. “At the end of the day, I know I'm supporting someone who wants to change the way America operates. I know it’s not popular, and I don't agree with everything that has happened since the election—especially white populism—but I know that in his core, he's a good man. I support change.”
As a queer immigrant of color, Alfonso contradicts identity politics in every conceivable way. In fact, he believes that political tribalism and identity politics are stripping America of unity and freedom of expression. He often says, “I can’t be open about my ideas because of the overwhelming disdain my friends and family have for Trump.” He points out that “Donald Trump campaigned with a promise to support the LGBTQ movement, and even held up the gay flag during one of his speeches.” He also reminds me that “the Defense of Marriage Act was signed under the Clinton administration.” Concessions made for the gay community under the Trump Administration are purely verbal, but they give Alfonso an excuse to believe in Trump's larger political promises—the disruption of the governmental system. Instead of focusing on all the problematic things that have occurred since Trump was sworn into office, he continues to believe in the general mission to upend the status quo.
He refuses to acknowledge that many of the strides made in LGBTQ communities could easily be reversed considering Trump’s current political dogma. One-third of Trump’s court nominations have a history of anti-LGBTQ sentiments, although his final pick Brett Kavanaugh (odious for many reasons) won’t give an opinion on gay rights. Trump’s Vice President Mike Pence supports gay conversion therapy. In addition, Trump continually attacks the trans community. His administration denied trans people's rights to use bathrooms and lockers that correspond with their gender identity, and attempted to ban trans-identifying persons from the military. Alfonso's claim that none of these policies are hurting the community are baffling.
Politics notwithstanding, whenever I visit home, I still call up Alfonso, and we spend most of the night at Whataburger reminiscing. We remember the days of insecurity and teenage angst, and marvel at how we got each other through it all. Alfonso is now planning on transferring to the University of Houston. He wants to go into film or social media. We talk about books, movies, and TV shows—just stopping short of politics.
Maybe I don't understand him, but I respect his decisions. He's not to blame for the political climate—rhetoric fueled by fear-mongering will never be his fault. If I were to stop being his friend, I would fall prey to our black and white world that refuses to recognize nuances or differences in opinion.