“I don’t worry when people talk about me; I worry when they don’t”

Restricted and segregated in so many ways through language, culture, housing, economics, and more, many Latino immigrants live anonymous lives here in the United States quietly working two or three jobs as they try to make a better life for their families.

 

That hasn’t been the experience for Rolando Cruz — an amazing, thought-provoking artist and ultramarathon runner who is also outspokenly gay and Latino. Cruz came to America as a teenager not just to work for a better life than he had in Mexico … but to experience life in the fullest.

 

“Growing up I had dreams and aspirations. But it never occurred to me that I would be coming to the United States and living the life that I’ve lived so far,” Cruz tells The Madison Times in an interview at Jade Mountain Café on Madison’s near east side. “Too often, we allow our society to dictate how we should feel and who we should be and what you should do. That doesn’t always work for people. We’re all such unique individuals. To put us into categories is ridiculous.”

 

Cruz has a story that is so familiar to the Latino immigrant community; yet it is so very unique.

 

“There are things that have gone on in my life that people can relate to in so many ways.  At the end of the day, I’m not just Hispanic. I’m not just gay. I’m not just an artist. I’m also a human being,” Cruz says. “The interesting thing is that, socially, I have to accept all of those stereotypes and stigmas when, in reality, I see myself as so much more than that. At the end of the day, it’s all about how I connect with people and how they connect with me.” 

 

As an artist, Cruz plays with all of those social stereotypes he is hit with in his daily life to create his art. “As I got older, social stigmas became more real to me and they were ways that prevented me from expressing myself because of a fear of judgment,” Cruz says. “So, I started developing these anti-social ideas and asking, ‘Why should I?’ Why do we have to be dictated [to] on how we feel, how we should look, and how we should be when in reality it’s very unrealistic? We’re all so different and unique.”

 

When I first met Cruz earlier this month at the Latino Art Fair at the Madison Central Library [where he won the “Best in Show” award], he was wearing an extremely colorful shirt filled with various derogatory names for homosexuals. Behind him at his station, was another shirt that he had created full of various not-so-friendly names for Latinos. 

 

“We in society have become very insensitive to what certain words mean. I don’t think we really realize the power of these words. And they have become so common for us to use,” Cruz says. “People have become desensitized to them. For me, there’s some heaviness to a lot of those words and I thought: Why don’t I create something that people have to take responsibility for? What if you could wear your words? Would you still feel comfortable letting people know how you feel? Would you feel different if you wore different coats?

 

“I want to transfer you to each person’s shoes,” he adds. “I want you to wear the shirt with the derogatory names for Hispanics. I want you to wear the one with the derogatory names for gays.  Would you feel different if you wore each coat … and why? The whole idea is for people to become responsible and to know the heaviness of a lot of what we say … but in an artistic way.”

 

For Cruz, it’s all about provoking a conversation and getting people talking. A theme throughout much of his artwork is that it is often bold and controversial.

 

“I don’t worry about when people talk about me,” Cruz smiles. “I worry when they don’t. Because if they don’t, you don’t exist.”

 

Growing up in Buenavista, a city close to Mexico City in the state of Michoacán, Cruz was battling to let people know he existed. He was especially having his own struggle in dealing with his sexuality. “Being gay in Mexico is so much of a stigma.

 

Especially because it’s such a macho culture,” Cruz says. “I started to think about what possibilities it might bring if I came to the United States. I was dealing with a lot of things in Mexico.” When his brother married a Wisconsin woman, he brought 16-year-old Cruz along with him to Delevan, Wis., an hour south of Madison.  Cruz immediately realized that he — like so many young Latino immigrants — would be in the United States to work … and only to work. “I really valued education. Pretty early on, I started having some disagreements with my brother,” Cruz remembers. “I wanted to go to school. He wanted me to work.

 

That’s what I was here for.  His idea was that I would be like every other immigrant — come here and work. I had no problem with working. But the type of work that I thought I should be doing and the type of work that is available to immigrants is very different. 

 

“Pretty early, I realized that washing dishes — and not that there’s anything wrong with that — I could do better than that,” he adds. “Even though I didn’t speak the language, I knew I could learn it if I was given the opportunity.”

It would take a while for that opportunity to come his way. So Cruz would fight often with his brother about work and school. And other things.

 

“One day we were watching a Latino talk show and it was about homosexuals,” Cruz remembers. “My brother started to make some comments that were rude and offensive. He didn’t know about [my sexual orientation]. So, I ended up telling him that it wasn’t right for him to make those comments. How would he feel if one of his family members or his brother was gay? He said, ‘Why? Are you gay?’ At that moment, I didn’t think about it. I just spoke. It was just very natural for me to accept it. I told him right then and there that I was gay … and he didn’t like it.”

 

The consequence of that conversation was that Cruz ended up being kicked out of the house.  It was very scary for Cruz being all alone in a different country and different culture. “I’m not the kind of guy who feels sorry for himself,” Cruz says. “I feel like no matter what happens to you — positive or negative — there’s always an opportunity to do something with it.”

 

In the little English that he knew at the time, Cruz had had a conversation with a woman that he worked with about his desire for education.  “One day, she told me that I could come and stay with her. She let me stay at her house,” Cruz says. “I continued to work and from there I went to school. The woman took custody of me and helped sign me up for school. I started going to Delevan High School.

 

“I remember sitting in the classroom and not understanding anything they were saying and thinking to myself, ‘How am I going to graduate?’ It’s one of those moments in your life where you feel so out of place and everything seems so impossible,” Cruz continues. “But, yet, somehow, the possibilities are there even though it seems like it is such a daunting task. I never doubted myself. I knew I had what it took.”

 

When Cruz finished high school in Delavan, he was offered a track scholarship at UW-Whitewater. “I couldn’t take it because I didn’t have a social security number,” he remembers. “A lot of the realities started hitting me and I began to see a lot of the opportunities slip away.”

 

So Cruz decided to move to Madison and see what he could make of himself in a bigger city. “For the first week or two I was homeless. Luckily, I had a job … because the job I had in Delavan working in the food and nutrition department [at Highland Transitional Care]had a branch in Madison and I talked to administrator and he transferred me,” Cruz remembers. “But I didn’t have a place to stay. I would go to work and then after work I’d look for apartments. At night, I would stay at a coffee shop for as long as I could until they would close and then just wander around until I could find a place I could sleep.”

 

Cruz would soon find a one-bedroom efficiency apartment and another job —this one at the Edgewater Hotel. “So, I’d work until 3 p.m. go home and change and then go to my other job until 10 p.m. I did that for a while,” he says. “Once I made enough money I started taking art classes at MATC [Madison Area Technical College].  I continued to do a lot of art on my own.”

 

Cruz would go on to work at St. Mary’s Hospital for seven years working his way up to dietician assistant.

 

Meanwhile, running had also always become a tremendous passion since his days as a high school standout in Delavan. One day, while Cruz was doing his marathon running, he met a friend who was thinking about opening a store. “We ran. We talked about it. We brainstormed. He ended up opening the store and a year later I came in and have been with Berkeley Running Company,” Cruz says. “I am the manager of the store on University Avenue.”  

 

By day, Cruz is working in the field of one of his passions — running. The rest of the time, Cruz is busy with his other passion — art — where he has won numerous awards and critical acclaim. “I’m an artist and I use different media to express myself. I can take a photograph, I can write, I can paint. I can do collages,” Cruz says. “What I love about photography is that it is a moment in time that people will relate to in their own personal way. I can take a picture … and I know what it means to me. But if you look at it, you’re going to basically see yourself reflecting back because what you see is based upon your own personal experience. Photography is such a beautiful way to communicate a message without imposing it upon people.”

Cruz is planning an exhibit in Madison that will be thought-provoking and controversial. 

 

“I didn’t learn the language to be quiet. I didn’t become an artist to simply be an artist. I have a responsibility to express my views,” Cruz says. “That’s one of the reasons why we come to this country in the first place. I think the Hispanic community has a lot to offer but we have to know that we have a lot of responsibilities.” 

 

I ask Cruz how his life would have been different if he had not taken some chances … maybe not been so outspoken and not tried to pursue his dreams.

 

“I probably would have just worked two jobs and sent money back to Mexico and never ever explored things that I have discovered since,” Cruz says. “I probably would have missed my life. You have to take a chance. As a community, we Latinos have to know that we have so much more to offer, but if we don’t make that effort, people will never know. 

 

“Life is an amazing experience. If you don’t cry, you won’t know what laughter is.  Most of the time when we go through tough times, there’s something better waiting at the end,” Cruz adds. “So far, all of things that I have wanted to accomplish, I have … but there’s so much more that I want to do. Especially, with my art. I have big ideas … big exhibits that I want to do.”