Dance of Dreams

Chapter Two: Two Cultures, No Place for Me

Hector's POV

What do you get when you have a family who arrived from a Communist country in the Caribbean in the 1970s to seek shelter in Miami and a family from the Philippines to seek their fortunes- both maintaining their Catholic beliefs while seeking strength in their family bonds?

You get me, Hector Vicente Paolo Ortiz-Pasqual.

If you asked me that being from two tight-knit families is a walk in the park, then that would be a lie since my sexuality (openly gay) was a no-no for most of the relatives. It's worse when I'm being shunned for having a feminine face yet a masculine body.

Thankfully, I had the support of my Cuban mother (a nurse who was the first in her family to graduate from South Florida) and my Filipino-American father (who owned and operated a hardware store) who supported me and my siblings in chasing their dreams. Imagine my surprise when Dad paid Mom fifty bucks because they had betted that I would come out to them when I was in middle school. "Just as long as you focus on your dancing career while finding a backup plan when things don't go according to plan, we want you to be happy," Mom told me. "And remember that you're not someone to be walked all over and that you're from a strong family of fighters."

Funny how she said that last sentence because I have a beautiful yet emotionally volatile older sister who hated gays with a passion and her twin brother who was a faith-believing brother who was a missionary worker for St. Matthew Catholic Church back in Miami- both of them not liking how I am.

"You're embarrassing this family with being a disgusting faggot!" Isadora Amelia Simone Ortiz-Pasqual would yell when I would rebuff her friends' sisters and female cousin for dates. "Any woman would be lucky to go out with you if you started acting more mannish and give up dancing like a jackass."

At least her twin brother Pedro Nicholas Cristiano Ortiz-Pasqual was more easily to deal with since he would try and pray for my soul when not insisting that I join him to be a missionary worker like him. "There is too much evil in this world for you to fall prey to," he would remind me when I would have to make nice with him for Mass when he came over for a visit. "These people are starving for attention that can only be found in God. I pray for you, Hectorito, but I can only do so much. Give up this pipe dream and join me for preaching the Word. Who knows? You might find someone who can help you break from these temptations- especially from your friends."

Lovely siblings, am I right?

As for my relatives, only a small handful of them (both sets of my grandparents included) thought I was being brave for my sexuality and dancing aspirations. Hell, my bisabuela de Madre (my maternal great-grandmother) was with Mom and her parents to see me dance as Bluebird last year. And Uncle Francisco (Dad's brother) was a proud advisor for the Gay-Straight Alliance club at the high school he teaches in San Diego.

Everyone else...thought that I was wasting my time and tarnishing both lineages. Some of my younger female cousins joined in with Izzy in setting up blind dates and acting as supervisors for the whole thing. My male cousins threatened to knock me around to make my face more manly. My elder relatives (the faith-believing ones) all agreed with Pedro that I was merely a lost soul in need of a good sense of direction and a better purpose. Family gatherings made it all the worse when my homophobic uncles on my mothers would harass me with fetching beers while questioning my manhood.

It was all the more reason for me to leave for New York and head for the American Ballet Academy and Company after successful auditions. Of course, that didn't suit Izzy well since she hoped that I would enlist in the military and die in Iraq so I "wouldn't be anyone's burden." Pedro just told me to seek a good Catholic parish and read my Bible for guidance. "The church would gladly welcome you with open arms if things don't pan out," he assured me when we parted ways at the airport. "I'll be praying for your soul, hermanito."