Evan Brodsky

          I was once asked, “If given the choice of one, would you choose your gay or Jewish identity to define you?” Though I consider myself culturally Jewish as opposed to religiously Jewish, the blood running through my veins pulses only Ashkenazi. The heart that beats the blood through my veins all day long on the other hand is one that boasts complete homosexual attraction. I’ve always felt an immense responsibility towards awareness and education of Holocaust studies. Through these studies I find myself torn over that exact question. Would I be imprisoned on the basis solely of my heritage, or would I be marked with a pink triangle and imprisoned among the homosexuals in those concentration camps, considered to be the lowest of the low in that chain of victims? 

          Before arriving, I knew that I wanted to explore the complicated gay culture in Cuba, where Fidel Castro imprisoned homosexual men into forced labor camps from 1965-1967 so many years after the Holocaust but so many years before Chechnya. My first stop was to Mi Cayito, a gay beach safe haven for queer people, continued by exploration of the gay clubbing scene and interviews with several members of the gay community. While some of the people that I met have shown an overwhelming pride and joy not only to be gay, but also to be Cuban, the vast majority of people have told me that many changes still need to take place. I asked a drag queen what she perceived needed to change in Cuban Society. Her response: “Todos.”

          In Cuba, there seems to be a don’t ask don’t tell acceptance policy of the LGBT community today: while gay is not preferred, it is tolerated. Though same-sex sexual activity has been legal since 1979, discrimination and same-sex marriage laws are still pending. With a group so marginalized, I found inspiration in the people insistent on having safe gay spaces despite a history of police interference and national intolerance. Much like myself, the LGBT community here in Cuba seems to have a split identity; how can one embrace pride in both their community and their sexual orientation when their community is so hesitant to accept their sexual orientation? Through this portrait series, I seek to capture the pride and determination of a people forced to confront their identity while navigating Cuba’s culture of machismo and institutionalized homophobia.

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