From Frederick Smith's Down for Whatever:
If you're white and have rock-hard abs, a tribal band tattoo around your sculpted biceps and have endured the latest implantant, skin dermabrasion or fat removal technique, you can rest assured that you can have your pick of other white boys or any other ethnicity you want for the night, if you choose. This is for no other reason than the fact that you're white and seen as desirable and normal and a potential partner for life. You don't have to think about your place, because you and most other people see you as normal, the standard. On a slow day, you can simply rest assured that your existence in the world is not questioned or ignored.
If you're Asian or Asian American, you can count on being a fetish, objectified or a fantasy even without trying. You're exotic, much like Chinese takeout in Montana, and most of the time you don't even question being called Oriental or being placed in the same category as a rug or a vase. And don't even think about pursuing or being pursued by anything other than a white boy, because you have that "model minority" theory to fulfill. You have to prove yourself to be as good as white boys, and are nothing like your men-of-color peers, who are in the same boat as you in the grand scheme of the gay world.
If you're Latino, you supposedly have the best of all worlds--light skin (let's not start with the African and indigenous roots that are often hidden, ignored, or denied), people-of-color vibe (unless you call yourself "Hispanic" and are part of that compassionate conservative clique from Texas or Florida), and acceptable to most white folks' families if they have to accept interracial dating. Besides, being Latino is the hot trendy thing for the new millennium according to most pop culture and literary sources, so ride the ride while it's moving. And you can revel in the names associated with being a sex object--hot Latin lover, papi chulo, chulo with the nice culo, tamale, chorizo. If you're culturally empowered and know your history and culture, you might object. But if you're not, well you're just plain old hot, hot, hot and probably think it's all in fun. You can date black, you can do white, on a slow night maybe even go for an Asian boy, but most likely you'll go Latino unless the aforementioned guys speak a little Spanish and can do a few merengue or salsa moves on the dance floor. Besides, going Latino or white fits best with the overall historical trend of deliberately lightening up the community. Can't have those indigenous roots and looks popping up, after all.
And if you're African-American or black--well, let's just summarize it with my experience in L.A.: too dark to be the tragic, yet beautiful mulatto boy, and not dark (or "homeboy") enough to be the black mandingo fantasy. Face it, I'm in the minority in this town. Except for the pockets of talented tenth in Baldwin Hills, Leimert Park, Ladera Heights, or even Altadena, there are not many black men to be found in L.A. I mean when has anyone seen more than five black men together in one setting in L.A.? Especially black guys who actually like other black guys, whether it's in the friendship or more-than-friendship context. This makes for a lonely and sad dating life for me.
Let's break it down here: For starters, I always feel a little strange commenting on other ethnicities than myself. Every culture has its own rules and history, and indeed, we can never walk in someone else's shoes. So my opinions on other ethncities are culled from what I've read and heard from friends and associates. End of disclaimer.
I'll be honest with you, I am no fan of Los Angeles. I just think it's spread out in a way that you really don't have to see people unless you want to, which disturbs me because part of what eases tensions and prejudice is frequent, daily exposure to lives other than your own. (I'm not saying that New York is a font of racial harmony, mind you.) The four months in Los Angeles that I spent in 2000, were probably the loneliest period of my life. I felt truly invisible as a black man and as a person. The former because it's such a media town, where visibility is everything. You aren't just yourself, but you're an icon ("the first black this, the first Latino that..." and don't get me started on Garth Ancier, because he can go to hell for all that I care) first and foremost. I can honestly say that I was the only person of colour at the companies that I interned at.
I felt invisible as a person, because I did not have to see anyone unless I made a concerted effort, which really was a shock to me after years spent in Boston and Luton. In Los Angeles, at all the gatherings and meetings I went to, everyone seemed to be strutting around like a peacock. My theory was that it had to do with the fact that so much time was spent in one's own head, that when you met others you didn't want to show your weaknesses.
Steering this back to race, in respect to the Asian section, I remember an online friend who was Chinese-American and would frequently state that he felt really trapped by the "ethnic hierarchy that put Asians last." I think it does come partly down to media, as I've mentioned before. It's only in really recent years that we've seen Asian men portrayed as attractive. Margaret Cho (love her!) once said in her act "I grew thinking that one day, I could play a prostitute on M*A*S*H." In respect to Asian men, I'd say it was Bruce Lee and virtually nobody else. I know that when I was growing up, there were no Asian men in the teen idol magazines. Come to think of it, there were practically no men of colour period. That really does a number on self-esteem, but I digress, since I've been down this path before.
Now onto the Latino section. Sometimes, I feel like a wannabe Latino, because many people see me as Dominican or Puerto Rican. I do know that many times I have wished that I could be Latino, because it does seem like the best of both worlds as the passage suggests ("light skin," "people of color vibe," and "acceptability"). Yet at the same time, I often wonder what Latinos think of being fetishised after many years of seeming to be off the map. Many people are often shocked when it's pointed out that Martin Sheen (real name: Ramon Estevez), Raquel Welch, and yes, even Cameron Diaz are Latino. You can even see it in Jennifer Lopez's movie choices where she's been gradually changed from Latina to "mysteriously ethnic." To me it seems like there's a chameleon-like aspect to being Latino that I do envy, and I wonder if other gay black men feel the same way. At the same time, I wonder if Latino men do get tired of being seen as the stereotype.
What my ultimate take on all of this, is that, again, we spend all this time generalising and never wanting to see the real person underneath. If that's the overwhelming modus operandi in Los Angeles's gay world, then I'm glad I'm not there.
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