By Kelly M. Marshall
Gender Infinity is a transgender– and gender-variant–focused conference that takes place annually in Houston, Texas. This year, it spans the weekend of October 5-6, with both days crammed full of programming that caters to the specific needs of the trans and gender–diverse population.
Now in their eighth year, the conference offers workshops, discussions, community and health education, and keynote speakers on hot topics that are affecting the gender–diverse population, and specifically has included many spaces for the queer Black, indigenous, Latinx, and POC populations to discuss and address their intersecting needs.
As part of the 2018 conference, Gender Infinity has included Spanish programming in its efforts to be ever more inclusive and accommodating of the needs of the transgender and gender–diverse community.
The keynote speaker for Saturday is none other than Ana Andrea Molina, an undocumented trans Latina who has spearheaded the Organización Latina de Trans en Texas (OLTT), a non-profit for transgender Latinx individuals, as well as founded and operates Casa Anandrea, a trans and queer shelter in Houston.
With the help of Gender Infinity’s Spanish program coordinator, Michelle DeSalvo, we sat down with Molina (who is primarily a Spanish speaker) to discuss her work and her unique and challenging experiences creating these resources for the underserved and high-risk Latinx transgender community.
Kelly M. Marshall: What events made you decide to commit to your work in activism in Houston?
Ana Andrea Molina: In Houston, there are several other trans and Latinx LGBTQI organizations that claim to work for vulnerable populations. This has not been the case. These organizations have been unable to provide proper services to Latinx immigrants for various reasons—one being language barriers, another is that we are just used as “numbers” for their agencies (so we can bring more funding to their organizations). As trans people, we are often ridiculously lumped into services and programs that are specifically for men who have sex with men. Because of this, our needs were not being met, and we were not receiving quality services.
The final straw for me was after a terrible incident of discrimination in January 2015, where a group of trans women including myself were thrown out of a women’s restroom. The establishment we were in argued that we were men who were dressed as women. This bathroom incident took place in a public space that promotes LGBTQ programming, but they did not even lift one finger to defend our rights.
Not even the Office of the Inspector General—when the Houston Equal Rights Ordinance (HERO) was in effect—supported us on that day and we left as if nothing had happened. We were given excuses that did not make sense and that I still do not understand today. After this instance, I realized the importance of forming a support group specifically for trans Latinas, which turned into the Organización Latina de Trans en Texas (OLTT).
So, I acted. Now three years in, we are the only organization that provides shelter for the immigrant trans and queer community and that is inclusive of all LGBTQI people. Our priority is housing homeless people who are undocumented and/or folks who are HIV–positive. This includes both adolescents and adults.
What was the process like both in opening the Organización Trans Latina en Texas (OLTT) and later Casa Anandrea?
We were never recognized and did not and do not seek recognition, since being visible as trans leaders puts us in the public eye and in front of those who perhaps hate us and want to kill us.
Casa Anandrea opened the first week of April 2017, and that week, we welcomed trans sisters who were granted asylum but had no family and nowhere to go after they left their respective detention centers. We gave them a home and the board of directors saw the impact it made and the importance of housing our homeless Latinx trans community.
I know very well that Latinx trans women can be a difficult population to work with, but it’s not impossible. We are fully capable of coming together to achieve a common goal. Unfortunately, we have been oppressed by a “machismo” culture and the patriarchy. This has taught us that, if we want to succeed, we must compete against everyone, even against our own culture and members within our community.
How did you and the community come together to create OLTT and Casa Anandrea?
We had some very committed allies. I want to thank Alice, Donna, Ruby, and Mo—they were true heroes to OLTT and Casa Anandrea during Hurricane Harvey.
I can also tell you stories of trans and queer people who were afraid to go to hostels in this city because of their gender identity. I can also confirm how afraid undocumented LGBTQI persons felt when ICE patrolled several hostels. Casa Anandrea was a true safe space and refuge at this time. I am proud to say that Casa Anandrea truly treats each person seeking refuge like family, not just a number. We are Latinx and if you come to this house, you are family.
What were some obstacles you had to face in founding and maintaining OLTT and Casa Anandrea?
Many local leaders and organizations told me, “You cannot create a 501(c)(3) because you are not legal in this country, you are an undocumented immigrant, you are a trans Latina, and you do not speak English.” Well, I’m still an undocumented trans Latina immigrant woman who has not mastered the English language and I am the “legal” representative of OLTT on all accounts.
People will say, “You can’t,” because they don’t want you to. They don’t want you to do well because then you’re competition. And now, after three years of fighting and working directly in the community, I realized why others did not want me to do this work—it is perceived as shameful that a woman like me could succeed in this work. In three years, I have accomplished work that nobody truly wanted to do. They were fine with seeing us (undocumented trans individuals) as vulnerable, but not empowered.
Financially, we have struggled to keep this refuge open and I have cried many nights hoping that it will never close. I get angry over it, but this gives me the courage to speak out.
I have faith that one day, the community will understand that I am not filled with hate, just that I was dealt a life full of barriers and obstacles and that I’ve had to survive many difficult things. That’s why I feel helpless sometimes in front of those who are privileged and do not understand me.
Even when I had the idea for Casa Anandrea, our own board of directors at OLTT pushed back and thought that we should not pursue opening this home. As a leader—and because of my strong passion for this refuge—I could not let this void in our community be neglected. I knew what I had to do, and I pushed through to make it happen.
Casa Anandrea, for me, is a legacy of love. I am not sure if this refuge will continue in the future, since this space seems to somehow threaten the legitimacy of the work that other agencies and organizations are doing. This house was originally a refuge for trans Latina immigrants, but during Hurricane Harvey, we were the only refuge in Houston that opened its doors specifically for all LGBTQI persons.
Even trans Latina women questioned whether I should be the leader of the trans liberation and resistance movement in Texas. I was an alcoholic for 16 years and it only took me one day to give it all up. I have been sober now for 10 years. I used to perform sexual services on the street just to have food. I was homeless on I-45 South and Wayside, I have battled depression, and I have been beaten countless times and left unconscious. I’ve been treated like garbage. So why would anybody follow me?
The Rev. Michael Diaz once told me, “Everything you have lived through has not been in vain or a waste of time. It was preparing you to be the great woman that you have become today.”
And so, some followed me due to my life narrative, and others did not. The ones who are still here have seen me work hard and I have shown my commitment to OLTT and Casa Anandrea. I have shown my willingness to fight for my people at all costs.
Can you talk about the specific risks that trans and queer Latinx individuals face when it comes to homelessness?
Homeless LGBTQI folks of all races and ethnicities are at high risk. There are not enough voices proclaiming equality and justice on behalf of this marginalized group, especially in public and in political spaces where they can effectively influence politics and public policy.
Homeless persons have complex circumstances including mental health problems, which often leave them vulnerable to abuse and mistreatment. They are often dehumanized, and local agencies have been unable to provide them with adequate resources and services. They turn to substance abuse to calm their hunger and anxiety and sex work because the government does not offer them dignified jobs or fair wages.
Coupled with the fear of anti-immigration laws and rhetoric, they are further marginalized and all they can do is find survival on the streets. They can often count on one hand the amount of money they’ve made in one day.
Given the current political climate, how are those risks heightened?
The political climate now is not favorable for anyone, let alone for the Latinx community. We face many hateful anti-immigration politics like SB4 and anti-trans policies from the Trump administration.
To truly understand the vulnerability of the LGBTQI Latinx homeless community, you must first acknowledge and understand how systems of oppression work. At the end of the day, these systems are what continue to keep our LGBTQI Latinx homeless community homeless.
Latinxs face a hateful current administration that is creating and enforcing tough laws against immigration and LGBTQI persons. But let’s not forget that Obama deported more people than any other president. Even under the Obama administration, many undocumented LGBTQI community members were deported and some were murdered in their home countries. These were good people, and the media has not shared information about this.
In the last few months, we have also witnessed how ICE is clearly incapable of providing appropriate healthcare services (especially for trans people) to immigrants in their custody. Roxana Hernandez, a transgender Latina woman, died while in ICE’s custody in a detention center in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She was not provided with her basic healthcare services when she came to the border and declared asylum. I feel that these detention centers are just machines that earn millions of dollars from the suffering and pain of immigrants (including those who identify as trans and queer).
What can we change both socially within our community and politically to ensure that trans and queer Latinx individuals are better protected and cared for in this country?
Socially, we can do a lot to change the rules of the game—that is, if we are willing to create a culture of empathy and solidarity. Supporting us in our social justice movement helps us to create collective and political power—one where we are effectively able to provide resources, voices, and practical solutions to the LGBTQI Latinx immigrant population.
To understand the basic needs of our Latinx immigrant community, we all need to learn about the systems of oppression that criminalize us, stigmatize us, and kill us. At OLTT and Casa Anandrea, we provide educational resources and space to confront these issues.
Even as undocumented immigrants, we have political power. During the last legislative session in Austin, there were multiple Democrats who were pro-LGBTQI and pro-immigrant. But, when it came time to vote on bills that affected us, they turned their backs on us. We must move forward and pass bills that will actually help us. I cannot vote and I cannot pass a bill, but I have a list of at least 15 people who I will take to vote on Election Day with the knowledge that they will do the right thing because they are truly committed to our people and our communities.
We need to create a system of resistance and liberation!
The 2018 Gender Infinity Conference will be held October 5-6 at the University of Houston Student Center South (4455 University Dr, Houston, TX 77204). For more information, visit genderinfinityconference.org.