Chulito (37 page)

“Dance for me,” he could hear Carlos saying. “Dance for me, Chulito.”

Then he started to softly strut around while continuing to move as much of his body as he could. Chulito bent his knees and bounced to the music. “Can you feel it?” The woman in the song asked. “Stand up. It’s alright.”

Chulito remembered how Carlos and Kenny and all the guys on the pier went crazy when this song came on. “Dance with me, Chulito,” Carlos would scream out to him.

Chulito continued to dance on his rooftop. He spun around and felt the gravel roll under his Timberland boots. The muscles in his back loosened. He had the freedom, so he let go. He leaped and turned and kicked up the dust under the gravel. He shook his shoulders, kicked his feet and even jumped around. His arms reached out as if he could embrace Carlos. And Chulito danced. He danced for Carlos. He danced for Puti. He danced for Lee. He danced for Julio and Brick. He danced for Kamikaze. He danced for Kenny and all his friends on the pier. He danced for Davey and the fellas. He danced for his mother and Maria.

Chulito danced because it was alright and he felt it.

Thanks…

To my literary madrina, Marcela Landres.

To Don Weise for being a caring editor and for making it possible for it to be in the hands of readers.

To Junot Diaz, Sandra Cisneros, and Jaime Manrique for their generosity and blurbs.

For the opportunity to develop portions of the book in various workshops: David Mura at VONA Voices of Our Nation Writers’ Conference, Percival Everette at Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and David Leavitt and Brian Leung at the Indiana University Writers’ Conference.

To Erasmo Guerra for giving me honest and caring feedback for a stronger edit.

Thanks to Fernando Ramirez for his legal guidance and concern.

To The Saints and Sinners Writers Conference (where I first met Don Weise) and where I was embraced as a writer before I’d completed a book, and the Lambda Literary Foundation, where I have found a queer community of support.

To Katherine Berger and the Byrdcliffe Guild Artists Colony in Woodstock for providing the environment to write the first draft of this book.

To Paul Adams of the Emerging Artists Theater for giving me my own writers retreat in his beautiful home up in the Catskills.

To the Macondo Foundation’s Casa Azul, where I got to work on a section and vibe off the energy of writers.

Sarah Schulman for being a literary guide and force in my life, and Rigoberto Gonzàlez for his caring support.

To the dynamic movers and shakers who were a part of my social therapy group who live between the lines of text and in my heart, including but not limited to Kelly McGowan, Tia Lessin, Carl Deal, Hamid Razik, Majora Carter, Beth Tilson, Maria Petulla, Frankie Fuentes, Alice O’Malley, Isaac Butler, Anne Love, Jamal Brown, Fran Vogel, Emily Choi, Mary Pratt, and Jack Kupferman.

To my sisters Denise and Lisa, my nieces Miranda and Jocelyn, and my stepdad, Salomon, for their encouragement and support.

To editors Steven Berman, Moises Agosto, and to Goddard College’s Pitkin Review for publishing sections of the book in their anthologies. A special thanks to Charlie Vazquez, who published in the anthology
Best of Panic!: En Vivo from the East Village
a section that I loved but had to edit out called “Hallelujah Pow.” I’m glad that the section lives in print.

To Matt Brim for including an excerpt in his curriculum and inviting me out to the College of Staten Island for an unforgettable afternoon with his students and for reading a portion of the book and giving me feedback.

To my soulmate writers Ru Freeman and Donnelle McGee, who endlessly inspire me and support me “no matter what.”

To my BAAD! family for being with me through every word: the amazing Elizabeth “Macha” Marrero, Damon White, Richard Rivera, Carlo Quispe, Ruben Thomas, Shizu Homma, Monica Figueroa, Mike Diana, Cándida Carrasquillo, Bryan Glover, Mili Bonilla, and Edgar Rivera Colón.

To photographer Ricardo Muñiz for a gorgeous cover and to model/dancer Noel Rodriguez, who danced at BAAD! with Violeta Galagarza’s KR3T dance group.

To many people who encouraged me along the way including Jane Gabriels from Pepatian; Bill Aguado, former Executive Director of the Bronx Council on the Arts; Charlie Vázquez (fellow scribe) from the PANIC reading series and his beautiful partner, John Williams, manager of the Nowhere Bar and the Phoenix; Ron Kavanaugh from Mosaic; Sofia Quintero and Elisha Miranda (also fellow scribes) from Sister Outsider Entertainment; Jorge Merced and Arnaldo López from Pregones Theatre; Jenn DeLeon (another fellow scribe); dancers Rokafella and Kwikstep; Bronx poet and artists Caridad De La Luz (La Bruja); Mildred Ruiz and Steven Sapp from Universes; my life partners in the “unholy trinity,” Bianca López and Diana Sándigo-Cabrera; Nicholas Boggs from Queer Readings at Dixon Place; and the dynamic duo of inspiration, Bill T. Jones and Bjorn Amelan.

And last, but certainly not least, to the amazing community of people in Hunts Point who inspire me endlessly, including Cybeale Ross, Cynthia and Rupert Phillips, Sidney Boone, Alfonso “Hammer” Ramirez, Ruben Morales, Puni, TATS CRU—Nicer, BIO, BG-183, How, Nozm and Sandro, the Auto Glass guys, and the late Martin from Rivera’s bodega.

It’s often thought that writers create alone. All mentioned here and more contributed to the creation of this book.