Do Not Define Me, Do Not Call Me Names

Almost five years ago I left Italy to come to Los Angeles. I thought that living in a big city was different than being in a small one, not just a different city, country, but also another continent.

Notwithstanding the fact that I live in a different place, I still experience a sort of discrimination and even though people are careful and do not dare to call me names, the look in their faces is totally enough.

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In particular, here it is among the Latin male community that I feel more discriminated. What I witness is something that I did before. I remember that once I was back in Verona, in several occasions some men, even married ones, express their interests in me. Of course, it was something that they needed to hide. I recall one time while I was having dinner in a Chinese restaurant with a friend. In a different table a family composed by a husband, wife and two kids, was seated. The man kept looking on my direction and my friend and I totally perceived that. So we decided to play with him, and I was fixing him on purpose sending him some messages. Here in Los Angeles, it happened to me that while I am biking or simply walking in the streets, I notice that some Latinos look at me. In their minds I perceive that they want to call me “maricon”, but that some of them have some other naughty thoughts about me.

It is very interesting and sad that in two different contexts, urbanizations, continents and in 2013, almost 2014, some people are still victim of this yep of discrimination. There is an Italian saying that states, “Tutto il mondo e’ paese”. That means that all the world is like a village and things are not very dissimilar.

 

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