My name is Angela Muñoz, my pronouns are she/her, and I've lived in Southern Oregon for five years. Before that, I moved from East Bay, the Bay Area- in California. I lived in San Leandro and I worked in Berkeley.
What was the time where you felt seen or understood by a family member in a way that was affirming of your queer identity? I think that would be... so it took me a really long time to come out to my family. Took me a long time to come out to myself. And I've done all of this long distance, so my family saw me on and off for visits, but they never met my partners, and the first one they never met... It was all in Alaska. And then when I moved down from Alaska to the lower 48, California, I didn't have a relationship. So they always knew, they knew for probably five or six years who I was, but never saw me in the context of a relationship. It's easy to be lesbian or queer from a distance. Or if it's not distance, if you're not in a relationship, it's kind of easier to, kind of forget about that part of that person. So when I moved to Michigan, it was for a relationship, and my brother was getting married, and I still lived in Michigan, and the whole question of, should I bring my partner... I thought, I'm going to bring my partner, and I said to them, because they had never seen me in a relationship, I said, “I'm bringing my partner, and I want you all to know that, and I want you to be comfortable with it, and for you to tell your children, so they're not asking or wondering who this person is that’s with their tia, their aunt” and I sent that in an email. I got really kind responses. Everyone is saying, “Oh my gosh, that's so great. It'll be so great to see you. It'll be so great to meet your partner” and they were just so wonderful! I felt like... and they didn't say like, “Oh, I don't know, I don't know if I'll bring my children” or “we're just not gonna talk about it.” They were just really supportive over email, and then when we got from Michigan to California, where the wedding was taking place, Southern California… it was is a big family gathering, it wasn't even the wedding yet, and there happened to be a birthday party that we went to first. My oldest sister, she's probably the most extroverted, the most gregarious person, I mean she came up and gave my partner the biggest hug, and just “welcome to the family!” And it was just so wonderful. My partner felt so welcomed. It's always nerve-racking to be brought into a big family, for one thing, all the partners I've ever had come from small families compared to mine. Mine’s this huge Mexican family, so there's never a small gathering, so it's like not only meeting the family, but meeting this huge family. But yeah, that was just so wonderful. So welcoming. And I felt the load that we'd always talked about... my family at least, talks about how we love you no matter what, and will always support you, and we'll fight for you, right? So when these situations come up where something’s unexpected in their understanding of who you are, who they thought you were… it wasn't just words. They really meant it, and they really did love me, and welcomed who I brought into the family also.
Could you tell me about an experience where you discovered something about yourself or your family that you hadn't known before? There's something that I think... I don't know if it defines who I am, it may have something to do with my identity, I don't know. But I think the first time, my mom told me the story, we've talked about the story many times, it's about my birth. So I'm fourth in line; my oldest brother, a son, then two older sisters, so it was boy, girl, girl, and on the fourth, there was no such thing back then, at least not popularly done, that you found out the gender or the sex of the baby, so it was all gonna be a surprise... birthday surprise. That's how my parents did it. So, of course, the hope, certainly for my dad, was that I would be a boy. I was late, I was late by about a week or two, and the birth was really hard. She had some issues, I guess I was bigger. And then my shoulders, she had a really hard time… my shoulders were getting stuck. She was having blackouts, and she said at one point during the delivery, she went out. And she saw herself on the birthing table, the doctors working on her, she's like in the corner of the room watching, and then she started seeing a tunnel, and she sees figures walking towards her. She believed it was her mother and her grandmother, and she was begging, pleading... “no, no, no. I have a family, I have a husband, I have three children, I have to have this child, I can't, it's not... I can't go. It's not the right time.” And I don't know how close the figures got, but she was able to, I guess plead case, and the next thing she knows, she's back on the table and I have arrived safely. She is okay, but I think she had a lot of bleeding. There were issues, they were fearful, and she saw what happened. It really did happen. They were really afraid she was losing too much blood, and she was having problems. So the fact that I came into this world in that way, that I was a girl, and I would joke with my father, “you didn't get a boy, but he got a lesbian, the next best thing!” *laugh* My birth it could have been the last thing my mom did. And I believe this story, I believe that there's something else going on than what we feel, the tangible things we feel and see and hear and touch, smell, there's something else, so I don't have a problem believing that she really had this experience, and so there was something special about me, there's something... there's a reason that I came and I was named after both my grandmother's, her mom’s name is in Angela. My middle name’s my dad's mom. Her name is Irene. So my name is Angela Irene, named after the matriarchs. And I love that story. It makes me choke up, my mom could have passed in birthing me, but then she was meant to stay, and I was meant to be here, and so there's a reason for my life and her life too. Yeah, that's always a story that I... whenever I think about why am I here, what am I doing? What's the purpose of my life? It's like, I came in a really difficult fashion, and so there's a reason I'm here, whatever those reasons or reason. I'm supposed to be here and be who I am. I’m named after my grandmothers. There's a long history of strong women in my family, and those two women were very strong to get through what they got through in their lives, so I really... I love that story about how I was born and my mom's strength and faith, and it says a lot about her too.
Thank you so much. I'm gonna be thinking about that all day, honestly.
I hope in a good way!
Definitely.
What was it like growing up in your family? And how maybe, in your upbringing, did you realize “Oh, I'm different from my siblings”, or “I'm different from the people around me.”
Yeah, it was pretty apparent early on... my sisters were very feminine, they liked dolls, they liked boys. They liked playing house. They cared about what they wore and how they looked. I was... I'd like to wear boys clothes, I liked being outside, playing football and baseball and running around on bikes, and I also remember, even though I wasn't conscious of feeling like there's something different about me, I just remember feeling, even as young as five and six years old, that I could go be by myself. One of my favorite things was to lie on my parent's front lawn, the house that I was raised in, and lay down and just look up in the sky and watch the clouds move overhead and just watch them and find shapes and just kinda contemplate the shape or just be almost in a meditative state. I could just be on my own and not feel afraid or not be afraid to be by myself. I've never had a sense of fear in being by myself, being alone. I know some people who can't stand to be alone, and I'm okay. I know that I need people, we're all beings that need to be in relationship, to a community, to others, to survive literally and figuratively. But I was not afraid to be alone and I knew too that in going through school, I was very serious about my studies, I was very competitive, so I was both athletic, competitive... And in every other way, I was competitive. So I was the one who... not that my brother and sisters weren't good in school, my sisters in particular were good in school, but I was getting A's... I was in the gifted and talented program, I was very competitive about getting my school work done and studying. They on the other hand were not. And so I saw that difference, I was very serious, very directed, very focused. I was independent, I was a tomboy, and meanwhile my sisters are wearing makeup, and going out with the girls and putting posters of the teen magazine posters with all the boys on their walls. I was like, Okay, whatever, *chuckles* I was really not interested, I was just... I didn't care what boys thought of me or how boys thought I should look or that I should look good for a boy. I didn't realize then, how important that was as far as who I am and how that will play itself out as I go further and further into my development, sexuality-wise, but it totally was a precursor to all the things that I've done in my life. Not just my sexuality, but education, a kind of a naive fearlessness about moving away from the family, about getting on a plane and moving to Alaska. I’d never been on a plane before, I'd never lived somewhere else. When I look at all the decisions I've made in my life, I've lived a very different life than any one of my siblings. I've lived in three different states, nobody in my family, except for one, moved elsewhere, and everybody else stayed in Southern California. So my life has been very different, and I think that they know that I'm different. I was the first one to get a college degree, first one to get a graduate degree, and so of course, my other sister's telling me, “Well, you should get a PhD now!” I'm like, nooo, that's over me. I've seen what it takes to be a PhD, and I don't have what it takes. But I'm strong, I was stronger as a younger person, I wasn't afraid to move, leave. I think they have seen the difference, not just my sexuality... But I think part of it is about that, making your own way, no matter what has been done before and what is expected of you, you do who you are. You walk the path that you see before you, and don't let other outside forces tell you that you're not supposed to do that. And in the same way, I think that's what it’s about with your sexual orientation, and your gender identity. We are told in many different ways what we're supposed to be, or who we're supposed to be, and yet we know deep inside that that's not who or what we're supposed to be, and having the presence of mind, having the self-knowledge, I have to credit to my family for loving me and not being afraid of losing their love, my parents in particular. Cause all along the way, my parents have allowed me... not always without a fight, but they have seen that this is what I need to do, this is who I am, and they do not say, “we will withhold our love if you decide this way, or the other way”, they have let me make my decisions and supported me in them, when it mattered most. So I have to give a lot of credit to my parents, who were born or raised very traditional. They basically were raised and have lived in the same city since they were very, very young, and that I've been so not like that. And they’ve allowed me to do that. When the time came for me to come out to them, it was hard. I didn't know based on being a Roman Catholic, and we were taught you know, a very traditional church-going family, I knew what the teaching was, and I had to stop going to church in order to come to terms with who I was, cause I knew that I could not sit there in a church pew, knowing how the church taught about people that were like what I was beginning to understand was who I was, and then be out there trying to be that person. One cannot have this duality, that internal fight is already difficult, and the spiritual trauma that that has caused in my life... so I had to stop going to church. Cause I knew that I couldn't do both, I had to be myself. Be free to be myself. I learned to be okay with being myself, cause at that point, we're told we are not okay, or that we’re intrinsically disordered, which is a very strong way of saying you're naturally... unnatural *laughs at how ridiculous it is* disordered! Intrinsically disordered. That's very, very mean. So one cannot stay in that and try to be who one is. So I think that's why it was hard for me to come out to my family, cause I didn't quite know, even though I knew they loved me, that the church would get in the way, that the teaching would cloud their feelings or cloud their loyalty to me as a person. But it turned out... I think it was difficult at first, it's never, ever easy to debunk your family's belief of who you are, no matter what it is, say they want you to be a doctor and you wanna be a poet. They’re not gonna like that. *laughs* They're gonna fight you on that. For various reasons. So yeah, it was hard for me to come to terms. So why would they not have the same difficulty... So yeah, it's been a real journey with them and for myself too! I’ve allowed myself time to get used to things about myself, and again, with my family it's always been, so far, it's been a really good supportive environment. I'm very lucky, I know that. But I expect it. I love them for who they are. So let's do this! We're talking about love. Let's do the real thing. I'm still very grateful 'cause I know very well, that it’s not the same for a lot of people.
Could you tell me a story about the time where you experienced queer joy living here in Southern Oregon? Oh yes! I was thinking about this. My first experience... I got here in July of 2017, but I didn't go to Ashland Pride until 2018, October 2018. And I was just watching it you know, I love this parade, this march. The last parades that I had seen were in the Bay Area, and it's like this giant corporate parade of floats and all the branding and all the Apple, Google, and so many. It's kind of lost its grassroots-ness and rawness, it’s kind of painted over in a way. But here I love this march, or this parade, because it's people and organizations who are together, there were churches, there was SOU, there was Ashland High School, there was a democratic candidate who was a lesbian, and who's got a partner a daughter, she was the candidate, so she had this big group with her, and there was this one... I can't remember the name of the group. It was just a whole bunch. It was families, and a Latina mother had a son, “I love my gay son!” And then another one, another gal, she was probably Central American, or maybe Puerto Rican or Dominican, she had a sign that said, “vaginatarian” and I loved it, I thought it was so hilarious! I took a picture of her holding her sign, and she was just so like... yeah, I'm not gonna deny it! It was just in the fact that she was a Latina... I loved that. So yeah, that gave me some joy. And then a little later on, almost a year later, I had gotten involved with the Wild Womyn of Rogue Valley. I'd just gone to coffee cause that's what it was, it was just coffee, a meetup group. They go to get coffees. So we started going to coffees and somehow my partner and I were all of a sudden on the campout committee! We were on the committee, planning out the camp out, and we got it going in September 2019 just before COVID hit, and on the last night of the campout, it was a potluck dinner. It was a whole bunch of us, we were in group camp site, near Lake of the Woods, and we were just in a big circle, this big circle of lesbians, eating, sharing a meal together. It was probably about 70 or 80 of us, and I think we kind of did this... I won't call it a prayer, but it was certainly like remembering and being thankful for being together and remembering the people before us, the women whose shoulders we stand on to be able to gather. It was just a really beautiful moment of community, of solidarity, of affirmation, of presence to one another, and we worked hard to get that camp out organized. We met every two or three weeks planning this, and the time we were there was... we weren't really camping, but we were kind of working, but seeing everyone come together and just be so happy to be together- a lot of the time, most people feel isolated, not knowing who their people are, so being in that space always does something for your heart and for your spirit, and it helps you not to feel so alone. So yeah, those are the two things I can think of. Times in this region that I had felt joy.
What makes you stay here and what makes you wanna go? The smoke. Literally, as a matter of fact, we were at Red Lily winery in the Applegate on Saturday. And it was just so beautiful there. You've got the Applegate river running right through the winery property, and it’s such an idyllic spot and setting. And it's like this is why I'm here, it is so beautiful. Um, but then last night, the smoke started coming in and we were like what they heck... we had a good summer. So far it's been good. A First Friday in Talent, we were talking to somebody who's running a booth, and we were just talking about how it's been a good summer so far, and I think we actually said that days before Almeda Fire. So yeah, we see the smoke, and the breathing issues, part of the reason that the pandemic was made more difficult was when we had smoke we couldn’t even go outside. You couldn't even go hiking if you wanted to go hiking. And that would be the reason to leave. The thing that keeps me here is the opportunities that I've had to meet people and the opportunities that I've had to get to know people in a real way, and to work together towards whatever project, several things, I'm engaged in a campaign, and there's people here that are you know, throwing in their time and energies on a volunteer basis for this campaign, the Wild Womyn of Rogue Valley, same thing, the RAC, the de-escalation team. I was a member of the Talent Zero Waste Team, a small community of people who really care about the greening of our culture in our community, and specifically single use plastic, they had worked before I joined the team to get rid of single use plastic in the city of Talent, and that was passed by the council. And then I did this course called Masters Of Recycling. I took the course in Medford. All these different people from this region were there taking that course, very committed to the environment and trying to do in their own ways, trying to make things better. And so through that class, I went to the Southern Oregon master's Recycling and Action, and so we were meeting and doing stuff, and it was just a small group of people, yet we could make a difference, you really could, and I felt like in a small community you can really get things done, you can really find your people, even though in some ways it's harder, but once you do, it's like you can get together and you can really do something to improve life! In a much more tangible way. When I lived in the Bay Area, it was like way too big, I can't even imagine. I know there are grassroots organizations there, but it just felt like overwhelming to me. How do you find the right group, how do you find the right people, How do you find the right project that you wanna work on here? It feels like you really can easily get connected and start doing something and making a difference. I think I can only attribute that to the smallness, that people are connecting to each other more regularly, the same people, so you're actually establishing and nurturing relationships, and that's really the only way that we can make change for the better, through relationships, and it's easier in a smaller community to do that, I have found. Cause you could be anonymous in a big city easily, you get lost. And the people are busy. They're trying to get from point A to point B, especially in the Bay Area. The traffic overwhelms, you're just trying to get to the place where you need to be, and you're not thinking about what's going on outside of point A and point B. And the beauty here. It's beautiful, even though it's very different. I've lived in Alaska, I've lived in a temperate rainforest, in the Southeast, It’s green. It rains. This is not the same. It's dry- well certainly we’re in a drought. But there's something about it too that I can really appreciate and love, so... yeah, really, the only thing that would probably get myself and my partner to move is the smoke, I think, and that conversation has happened a few times, so... I don't know, we'll see. And that goes back to working on climate change, right? It's not gonna go away, and that's what I say to them too. It's like there's no place safe. Even Alaska, they had a huge heatwave. Never, ever would Juneau have consecutive days in the 80s, and no rain, so yeah, there's no safe place, so we have to be prepared to do what we need to do, where we live, so… that is the main concern. The fires, the smoke, the discomfort, the limitations that puts on our lives.
What is a memory from your time here that you’ll remember the most? And it could be about being out in the community, but it could be a memory that you and your partner share...
There's so many ways I could go with this. There's been some really beautiful experiences on a trail. The first time we did Grizzly Peak, and we got to the lookout point at the peak, you can see the whole valley as a blue sky. It was so gorgeous, it was green. I think it was in June, and it wasn't the same but it reminded me of when I would hike in Juneau, Alaska, and I would be on the top of Mount Roberts, and you could see all the way up and down the channel of a rainforest, the Tongass National Forest. And so peaceful and so lush... Or I could talk about the first time I heard the dance band Blue Lightning! It was so fun. They're playing dance music, with the idea that you'll be moved to dance and people love that band, and they just played at the Green Show last week, and people were dancing on the concrete, and they love that, they love when people get up to dance for the music, and it always feels good. Dancing is so good for us. I've always loved dancing, my mom taught us to dance, I was a dancing fool in college, I have no qualms about dancing. I don't need alcohol, I can be out on the dance floor, and I always try to encourage people to dance because it's good for our health in so many ways. It's good for our spirit, it's good for our health to be dancing. So being out on the dance floor, Blue Lightning is playing their hearts out, and that group was founded by women, majority lesbian. Now, there are two original members, 30 years later, I still believe that there's five women and two men, four women are lesbians. And they are are such wonderful people, you get to know them, they love talking after the show, and it's just a really wonderful community feeling, to have a local band doing what they love, moving people to get up out of their seats and dance and just have the time of their lives, being in your body, listening to music, feeling joy, letting that joy move through your body and make you wanna get up and move. There's nothing, I don't know, in my mind, when I think about my theological education experiences, it's like that's what being creative is about, it’s not about having children, it's about having that spirit in creating something that your body is...this is our instrument. This is what we are using in this world and in this life, we can create or we can destroy, we can create joy or we can destroy joy, creating joy in my mind is allowing that spirit to move through you and listen to your body and just... let it do what it wants to do. And I think that that's- you know I know that not everybody can dance, there are physical limitations... I think it'll be hard for me one day to get to a point in my life where I won’t be able to dance, but as long as I can, I will. Every time I've seen Blue Lightning perform, it's like, there's no way I'm not gonna dance! *laughs*