Coming of Age with Bisexuality

The author is the daughter of a Cuban father and Colombian mother who chronicles her youthful experiences as an adolescent and then young adult in the United States. In her memoirs, Hernandez presents a poignant picture of living in a bilingual world where she must help her parents with English while sorting out the day-to-day challenges that life presents all young people. Likewise, Hernandez also struggles with her growing recognition that she is bisexual, something that was especially troubling for her because the feelings she was experiencing were not only new (and exciting) but abnormal according to her religious upbringing.

Given the powerful nature of these feelings for all young people, it is little wonder that Hernandez became increasingly concerned and conflicted about her role in American society, what her cultural background meant for her future, and the emergence of bisexual tendencies. The author relates these points and more when she speaks to a group of teenagers at the request of a community organization. Following some candid admissions concerning her bisexuality and her background, Hernandez is asked by one female attendee, "Do you want to marry a guy or a girl?" In response, Hernandez first formulates a forthright but flippant observation ("I want to tell her: 'Girlfriend, I'd be happy to meet someone I like as much as my cat'"); however, she quickly remembers her audience and her own sensitivities during this turbulent period in life and adds, "I can't say that, because these are teenagers. They are impressionable. They're young. If I give them the wrong response, they might beat up a queer kid one day or not come out of the closet themselves." Although what she actually says reflects the reality that human sexuality exists along a continuum for everyone, she concedes that the response is "bullshit and the girl knows it" when she says: "For me, gender doesn't matter.... I'm attracted to who the person is on the inside."

Following a series of flashbacks that included a kindred spirit she was assigned to write about, the author cites her Catholic school upbringing as being fundamental to her own conflicted views about sexuality and credits a substitute teacher with helping her sort out her feelings when others were unable to do so. Because one of the incessant themes drummed into the young learners at St. John the Baptist School was the danger of sexually transmitted diseases, especially HIV / AIDS, Hernandez realized that some people were actually dying because of their sexual orientation and that their sexual orientation was not always a choice but rather a biological reality.

When a substitute teacher arrived at her school unexpectedly one day, Hernandez characterizes the experience as being tantamount to the precise breath of informed fresh air she -- and her peers -- needed at this critical juncture in her life. For instance, Hernandez points out that the Victorian mores that prevailed at her school precluded students from asking the important questions that were on their mind. The author does not blame her science teacher but rather acknowledge the reality as a fact of life: "It is no small task to talk about HIV and AIDS in a Catholic school, and our science teacher sticks to the facts." The limited amount of relevant information their science teacher provides, however, does little to clear up the real questions that are troubling this class. What they do know is that, "[T]he virus has to do with gay people and not having your clothes on, but we can't ask our science teacher about that. It would embarrass her and us, and we have to see her every weekday, which is why God invented substitute teachers."

By sharp contrast, the substitute teacher was not only someone different, she taught at public schools on occasion which everyone at her school knew were "godless" so the class was able to discuss sex openly (within the confines of Catholic school decorum of course). Presented with this unique opportunity, the students begin peppering the substitute teacher with questions about sex when one of her classmates asked whether women could get AIDS and the teacher explained that they could by being in a relationship with a man who was infected with the virus. This "ah-ha" moment for Hernandez was followed by an example of a bisexual relationship provided by the teacher which further reinforced the fact that other people were going through the same questioning processes and arriving at an answer she was afraid to face.

In yet another flashback to her home life when she was in college exploring her newfound freedom, Hernandez describes her anguish and desperately wanting to share her bisexuality with her family and straight friends, most especially her sister because of her fear about what they might think. Indeed, when she is alone in her bedroom she claims she is "near enemy territory." Given the otherwise-tight knit aspects of Latin American family life, feeling that her closest relatives are the enemy is reflective of the inner guilt she still harbored over her bisexuality at this point in her life.

After time, however, Hernandez succeeded in overcoming these conflicting feelings and became comfortable with the outcome. In this regard, the author emphasizes that, "Yes, I am meeting lesbians, but I am not one of them. I still find men attractive; it is that I am thinking of women in a new way." Scientists have shown that walking is easier on the legs than standing because it allows one leg to rest while the other does the work. Similarly, the author concludes that, "It is as if I am learning that I can shift my weight from one leg to the other, that I have a second leg. Kissing women is like discovering a new limb."