Emanuel Xavier on Growing Up, the Ballroom Days and the Resurrection of Christ Like by Charlie Vázquez

Photo by Shirley Miranda Rodriguez

I met Emanuel Xavier shortly after moving back to my native New York City in 2006 and I’m constantly floored by his gentle and sincere demeanor, considering all the horrors he’s survived as a former hustler, drug dealer and victim of sexual abuse. The charismatic and prolific Mr. Xavier has crafted the self-published poetry volume Pier Queen, the much-acclaimed Americano (Suspect Thoughts, 2002), edited the anthologies Bullets and Butterflies: queer spoken word poetry (Suspect Thoughts, 2005) and Mariposas: A Modern Anthology of Queer Latino Poetry (Floricanto, 2008)—as well as the titan erotica collection Best Gay Erotica 2008 (Cleis Press, 2007). Xavier is celebrating the ten-year anniversary reprinting of his 1999 breakthrough novel Christ Like (Rebel Satori 2009), a semi-autobiographical account of the myriad difficulties plaguing “Mikey X”, his literary doppelganger. Christ Like follows Mikey’s labyrinthine journey; from dealing with his teenage homosexuality to being introduced to the 1990s Manhattan “pier” and “ballroom” cultures—with all of their prickly side dishes of muscular heartthrobs, awkward heroes, plentiful drugs, endless sex and fierce, shady egos. Emanuel and I discussed Christ Like’s resurrection and what gets him going as a gay Latino writer.

Charlie Vázquez: I wasn’t living in New York in the 1990s, but remember catching glimpses of your fierce, gay street warrior characters on my frequent trips back. What do you think was the allure of engaging in crime, for minority, inner-city queer kids? The 1990s are documented as being a time of economic expansion, but not for everyone, right?

Emanuel Xavier: Growing up in a city like [1970s-1980s] New York exposes one to far more violence than say growing up in Beverly Hills. Developing a thick skin is crucial for survival wherever you grow up, but for minority inner-city youth, options are sometimes limited, so crime has a natural appeal. Rebellion is in the air and queer youth are already supposedly going to hell. Throw in a broken childhood, a dash of prejudice, and the hustle and bustle of one of the most infamous cities of the world and self-destruction is quite seductive. The 1990s may have been a great economic time, but not for those marginalized because of skin color or sexuality. 

Vázquez: I take it that the ballroom scene still exists to a degree? How involved are you and how different is it nowadays, as compared to the 1990s?

 Xavier: The ballroom scene is very much still alive. Like any community, great leaders have passed away or moved on, but there’s always going to be someone ready to step into the limelight. It’s just different because there are more safe spaces, visible role models, and opportunities to communicate and create relationships for queer youth. There will always be, however, a need for support and self-expression. Trying to carve out a niche for myself as a writer does not, unfortunately, lend itself to being more actively involved in the ballroom scene. But I like to think that pursuing my dreams might inspire someone in the ballroom scene to recognize that there is more to life than simply winning a trophy for walking a runway. 

Vázquez: You mention (in the book’s introduction) your insecurity as a fledgling writer when putting Christ Like together ten years ago. How do you feel about it now? My theory is that a great storyteller is a great storyteller, period.

Buy Christ Like by Emanuel Xavier

Xavier: I had no formal training or experience except for a self-published poetry collection. I was written off as a ‘flash in the pan’ and I’ve never had an agent to guide my career. I only had thick skin to survive the critics and convinced myself that this book was worth publication. Before some privileged white artist stepped in to exploit my life, I wanted to share my own experiences. They probably would have reaped more benefits than I ever would, but I do feel grateful to have been genuinely welcomed by the queer literary scene, let alone having gotten this book published. I think it’s incredible when you get the chance as a writer to revise something you put out in haste, because you were given a unique opportunity. I don’t think I changed it much, just tweaked it here and there, and I’m excited about giving it a second chance.

Vázquez: Any advice for young, aspiring writers whose odds seem against them?

Xavier: (Laughs) I always get that question. Nobody wants to hear that you should just be passionate about your work because there is little-to-no money made from publishing for queer writers, especially of color. Unless you could be the next E. Lynn Harris or get your book optioned for film like Sapphire’s “Push”, it’s best to keep writing for the sake of documenting our histories and enjoy whatever comes from it without further expectations. The greatest reward is inspiring others to share their own voices. Anything else that comes along is that much more appreciated. I was supposed to end up a washed up pier queen, but I was just in Belgium for a queer literary kinship symposium! I suppose I could say that my life is a testament that anything is possible, no matter what limitations are imposed on you by others. 

Vázquez: So tell us what we can expect from Emanuel Xavier in the future.

Xavier: I have a new poetry collection coming out this fall and, if things work out, I might have other opportunities for reaching a wider audience. I’m still as ambitious now as I was when I first started. The only difference is that I no longer have to prove I could change my life around and that I am serious about becoming a writer.

Vázquez: Amen, hermano.

 

Read an excerpt from Christ Like
Wanna know more about Emanuel? www.emanuelxavier.com

Charlie Vázquez is a radical Bronx-bred writer of Cuban and Puerto Rican descent. His fiction and essays have been published in anthologies such as Queer and Catholic (Taylor & Francis, 2007) and Best Gay Love Stories: NYC (Alyson, 2006) and his articles and interviews with other writers and advocates have appeared in Advocate.com, Chelsea Clinton News, NYpress.com, Tanglefoot, Dreck, BigFib and Mensbook Journal. Charlie hosts a reading series called PANIC!, which focuses on queer erotica, poetry and horror. He’s a former contributor to the Village Voice’s Naked City blog, a retired experimental musician and photographer, and worked as an assistant to avant-garde diva Diamanda Galás. His fiction collection Latino Bizarro and Corazón will be published by Lethe Press in 2009 and his second novel Contraband will be published by Rebel Satori Press in 2010. He lives in Brooklyn. All info/contact: www.firekingpress.com