From Grassroots to Collective Action: Advocating for LGBTQ+ and Latine/x Health in Santa Clara County
In this interview, HIV/AIDS advocates Rodrigo and Daniel share their personal journeys and dedication to LGBTQ+ and Latine/x health advocacy in Santa Clara County. Both deeply influenced by their experiences with the HIV/AIDS epidemic, they discuss how their involvement began through grassroots efforts and evolved over the years into impactful public health campaigns focused on education, stigma reduction, and community building. With World AIDS Day 2024's theme, "Collective Action: Sustain and Accelerate HIV Progress," taking place on December 4, their message underscores the importance of collective responsibility in addressing these issues and continuing the fight for equitable care and support for all affected by HIV/AIDS.
(Disclaimer: The following interview participants, Rodrigo and Daniel, will be speaking solely on their own behalf. Any statements or opinions expressed are entirely their own and do not represent the views or work of the Santa Clara County Public Health Department.)
Danny: Hello Rodrigo and Daniel! Thank you for joining me today as we dive into your personal work as HIV/AIDS advocates in Santa Clara County. Can you share your background and what led you to become involved in LGBTQ+ and Latine/x health advocacy?
Rodrigo: I am born and raised in Mexico City, Mexico. I came to the United States when I was 25 and have been here ever since. My involvement in LGBTQ+ and Latine advocacy began early, during my time in university as I was coming out.
I became an adult during the peak of the AIDS epidemic. The LGBTQ+ community was very active in the fight against AIDS, and young people created community by getting involved in that fight. My first encounter was through a volunteer-led program called Amigos Acompañantes (or "Companion Friends"). Volunteers went into the homes of sick, immobile people living with HIV, helping by cleaning, buying groceries, or simply being companions.
Keep in mind that people in Mexico did not have access to treatment or education about HIV/AIDS. Many died without ever accessing medication. When I became involved, it was very scary. At the time, there was still a belief that even touching people or using the same dishes could infect you. For me, it was about the humanity of being in companionship with sick individuals. That allowed me to educate myself and fight my fear through action.
I continued my involvement in Mexico City, participating in the first Marcha Silenciosa (or "Silent March") to bring visibility to people living with HIV and the lack of services in the late 1980s and early 1990s. At the same time, I was studying graphic design, and for my thesis, I chose to create a human rights and HIV/AIDS campaign. Advocacy, through my thesis and work, became part of my life because it directly impacted my experiences as an LGBTQ+ person and the people I loved.
When I moved to the United States, I became involved with ARIS, an organization in Santa Clara County focused on HIV/AIDS resources and services. It was a great resource for people living with HIV/AIDS. I became involved in advocacy because these issues directly impacted me. Most importantly, if we didn’t speak up, who was going to do it?
Danny: Thank you for sharing the beginning stages of your advocacy journey. I recently read an article about safe sex, which highlighted how, before the HIV/AIDS epidemic, safe sex practices were rarely discussed. It was the LGBTQ+ community that began taking action, advocating for more resources and education. LGBTQ+ advocates for HIV/AIDS played a crucial role in normalizing conversations about safe sex—and your story reflects this important movement.
Daniel, I pose the same question to you.
Daniel: I am from Mexico, and I moved to the United States in 2005 when I was 19 years old. During my first years here, I worked in construction, held two other jobs, and learned English. One day, I discovered a group on Myspace called De Ambiente, a support group facilitated by Rodrigo. The group was for Spanish-speaking, monolingual LGBTQ+ Latinx youth.
My friend and I attended De Ambiente’s second anniversary, and it was revolutionary for me. I knew people like me existed, but I lived in a bubble where I mostly interacted with my family and didn’t know much beyond that. I didn’t know about LGBTQ+ rights or the experiences of queer people. In Mexico, I was very closeted. So, when I moved to the United States, I didn’t interact with anyone LGBTQ+ until I joined De Ambiente.
The program taught me a lot about myself. It focused on HIV prevention, identity exploration, and the experiences of being undocumented, Latinx, and monolingual. I stayed in the group for six or seven years until I aged out. Around that time, Rodrigo was visiting middle and high schools to provide workshops on sexuality, gender roles, and HIV prevention, and I began tagging along. That’s how my involvement with the community started. I attended community events, workshops, and meetings through Colectivo Ala and De Ambiente.
For nine years, I worked as a caregiver in a retirement home. That experience gave me a glimpse into what it meant to serve others. My philosophies on public health, helping people, and being involved in the community came from my time working with seniors. I learned what it meant to be vulnerable and to need support.
In 2015, a friend encouraged me to apply for a part-time program specialist position with AACI’s Hope program, focused on HIV prevention. At the time, I was working three jobs while attending school, so this opportunity was life-changing. I started part-time and eventually became the program manager. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I transitioned to the Santa Clara County Public Health Department as an assistive investigator, further deepening my understanding of the community. Now, I work with the Getting to Zero program, continuing to serve and advocate for my community.
Danny: Your story highlights how networking and connections can open doors, and how even a single event can serve as a life-changing catalyst. That’s incredibly powerful to hear.
Reflecting on your years of public service, what moments or achievements stand out as particularly impactful to you?
Rodrigo: When I was a young person in the late 80s to early 90s, the messages for anyone identifying or exploring their identity as an LGBTQ+ person were not kind. The media and posters often told us that “every gay man will end up dying of AIDS,” and it was very blatant. There’s one poster I will never forget: it showed the back end of a hearse with a coffin visible, and the words, “All roads lead to death.” This was the messaging for us queer people. There was also a poster with superheroes, like Superman and Wonder Woman, dying of AIDS. Growing up and coming out as a queer person, it was impossible to avoid these messages, which made you feel like, “When is it going to be my turn?” because people around me were dying. I lost three friends and a cousin to AIDS, but no one ever talked about it openly—it was a source of shame.
When I worked at Outlet, I noticed we mainly served white queer kids. Reflecting on my own experiences, I wished for services like these, but there was a lack of diverse representation. That’s when I created and proposed De Ambiente. It started as a shot in the dark; we didn’t know what it would look like or who would show up. It took about six months to get a consistent group of kids. Once De Ambiente took off, we saw great potential in the youth—Daniel being one of them. The youth made the space their home.
Fast forward to now, I see Daniel as a leader and educator, having found their community and inner strength. It makes me reflect on where we were and where we are now. This is a major highlight for me. Society has evolved, despite the pushback. The messaging is more celebratory, and we talk openly about safer sex—things we couldn’t discuss 20-30 years ago. To me, this is a significant impact and achievement for society.
That said, there are still challenges we face. In the late 80s, President Reagan completely ignored the epidemic. Now, we’re facing Trump, who is trying to cut these services. But we must continue helping our communities with HIV, Mpox, and rising STDs. These issues stem from systemic problems that still persist. Despite this, as a community, we’ve made strides to create more spaces for LGBTQ+ youth to thrive. Public Health in Santa Clara County has implemented educational and marketing efforts, like Getting to Zero. Our county continues to make significant progress. I can’t help but compare it to the past, when community efforts like these didn’t exist. We were told we had a deadline, a deadline that said, “You will die of AIDS.” Despite all the challenges of the past, we continue to make great strides in sex education and awareness.
Danny: It sounds like your greatest achievement is actually a collective of moments, moving from despair to hope—such as increased education, community-building, policy-making, and the destigmatization of LGBTQ+ issues.
Rodrigo: Absolutely.
Danny: Daniel, was there anything you would like to add?
Daniel: I want to speak about the moments that impacted and ignited my desire to go into public health—specifically HIV prevention and sexual health. Around 8 to 10 years ago, some close friends of mine contracted HIV. It made me realize that we are still contracting HIV, particularly people who live and look like me: undocumented, immigrant, queer people of color. While HIV affects many, research shows that Latino/e, queer men are most impacted. I would think, “Am I next?” This experience highlighted the necessity of diverse representation in the community. People in my community need to have these conversations with others who look like them. I believe it’s essential that community helps community.
This ideology propelled me into my career. While working for AACI and providing free HIV testing, I consoled many gay men and listened to their stories about the lack of information and knowledge about how to care for themselves and navigate romantic and sexual relationships. As a result, I began thinking outside the box and asking, “How can we provide our community with the resources and knowledge to thrive? And how can we destigmatize these conversations?” The Latine community, however, does not typically talk about these issues. But from my years of experience, I’ve learned that we need to talk about them, to normalize these discussions.
This led to the creation of a social marketing campaign while at AACI, called “Amarme = Conocerme” or “To love me is to know me.” It was a 2-year, fully Spanish-speaking, HIV/AIDS anti-stigma campaign funded by the Getting-2-Zero program. We prioritized monolingual Spanish-speakers because, at the time, there was very limited representation of this community in HIV/AIDS campaigns. We didn’t want to simply translate materials—we created everything, from methodologies to promotional materials, entirely in Spanish. We ran three focus groups to gather feedback from Spanish-speaking community members and program providers. Participants shared that they felt ashamed to talk about sex due to cultural beliefs. In response, we aimed to humanize the process of obtaining resources, information, and support.
We advertised on roadside billboards in Eastside San Jose, on VTA buses, and hosted a press conference. We also went into the community, providing workshops on HIV/AIDS and stigma in the Latine/x community at schools, community colleges, and centers. In the second year of the campaign, we partnered with Public Health to host events offering workshops, speakers, and free testing. I feel privileged to have worked with service providers and connected with the community.
Danny: Throughout your journey, you focused on cultivating empathy through shared experiences, not sympathy or pity. As you said, “community helps community,” and in building that community, you created spaces for LGBTQ+ people to thrive.
The next question is: How has your work evolved over the years in response to the changing landscape of LGBTQ+ and Latine/x health issues?
Daniel: The very essence and soul of our community is being attacked in many ways, both politically and morally. This has fueled my drive to serve my community, even after 11 years working in public health. I believe social justice is intrinsically linked to sexual liberation. We need more community members to feel free to express themselves, which will improve social well-being, socio-economic factors, and political engagement.
In community, I emphasize the importance of self-advocacy, self-agency, lived experience, and self-care. The political landscape is deeply personal to me, as it affects both myself and those around me. But I still feel incredibly blessed to know people like Rodrigo, who helped shape my career and advocacy, and introduced me to others who believe that social justice and sexual liberation are connected.
Danny: Your work is not just work; it’s your whole life.
Rodrigo: Yes, thank you, Daniel.
When I first started my advocacy during the peak of the AIDS epidemic, we needed to react immediately to the blatant attacks on our community. We had to get up, march, and manifest our disagreements. It was crucial to educate ourselves on safer practices, such as using condoms. As things progressed, we needed education on how to access services, medication, and testing. Many scholars studying these issues found that LGBTQ+ Latinos and men of color were not using condoms or were still getting infected, despite condoms being widely available.
Dr. Rafael Diaz, a dear friend of mine, and his colleagues at the University of California, San Francisco, conducted studies on why Latino men engaged in risky sexual practices despite education efforts. They discovered it wasn’t a lack of education but rather the broader socio-cultural factors influencing behavior. As a result, Dr. Diaz and his team emphasized the need for a more holistic approach to prevention, rather than focusing solely on education.
I was reminded of this when I read an anecdote about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. during his work with suppressed African American communities. One of his aides suggested, “We have all these books to educate them, that’s what they need.” Dr. King responded, “No, what they need is to love themselves first.” This anecdote shaped the way I do my work. We cannot expect people to change their behavior without addressing the human aspect. There are so many factors that can oppress someone, especially undocumented, monolingual immigrants who come to this country alone. They experience culture shock, racism, new religions, and stigma. And here we are, trying to teach them to use a condom.
So, how has my work evolved? It started with being in the trenches, marching, and shouting, “We need resources.” Then, I moved into education. I learned that we are not monolithic, that we are complex individuals. When people talk about Latinos, they think we are just one group. Similarly, when people talk about LGBTQ+ folks, they assume we fit into categories like L, G, B, T, or Q, but we are much more complex than that.
For example, I co-founded Colectivo Ala and a theater program, Theatro Alebrijes. We don’t focus on “how to use a condom” or “how to protect yourself” – that information is already out there. Instead, we focus on what makes you happy, what doesn’t, and creating a sense of belonging in the space we create together. When an individual feels loved and learns to love themselves, they have more agency and the ability to make different decisions, rather than letting someone else decide for them.
Danny: Well said! With the theme for World AIDS Day 2024 being Collective Action: Sustain and Accelerate HIV Progress, what does this year’s theme mean to you personally and professionally?
Daniel: I have friends, like Rodrigo, who lived through the AIDS epidemic and fought for the justice of the LGBTQ+ community. Now, many of my queer friends and community members are enjoying these luxuries. But sometimes, I feel we forget that we need to continue building upon what previous generations have fought for. The fight isn’t over; it continues to evolve.
This year’s theme is a reminder that we can’t let our guard down—not at all. Anyone can contribute to the cause by having conversations with friends and family to raise awareness and educate on HIV/AIDS. You can discuss what it means to have or know someone with HIV/AIDS, how to accept and support them, and what representation and inclusivity look like. Through these conversations, we are combating stigma and moving forward as a society. It’s not just about getting tested or using condoms—conversations are important too. People’s opinions matter, and we should engage without attacking each other. It’s about identifying where we are and finding common ground. Despite differences in opinion, I believe everyone cares about the wellbeing of their own and those they love.
On a professional level, working for the public health department, my role includes making services accessible to all, helping manage programs, adapting programs to better suit the community, and incorporating community involvement. Community feedback is crucial in understanding how the community is impacted and how we can adapt as it continues to evolve.
Danny: Thank you both for sharing! My final question is: “What is the key takeaway you hope our community gains from this year’s World AIDS Day event and from this interview?”
Rodrigo: When I look at this year’s World AIDS Day theme, “collective action,” I think of Pastor Martin Niemöller’s poem, “First they came.” The poem illustrates our collective responsibility in responding to societal issues. Often, we dismiss a concern because it doesn’t directly affect us. In the past, when we heard about the “AIDS virus,” it primarily concerned gay men. As infections and deaths increased, it became a concern for those living with HIV. Society looked to those affected to mobilize, fight, and educate. Similarly, we often place the responsibility of addressing issues like mental health and substance use on those directly impacted.
For me, collective action means understanding our collective responsibility. People living with HIV/AIDS continue to be criminalized and racialized. Many still think it’s not their issue because it doesn’t directly affect them. “I’m not gay, I’m not Latino, I’m not... therefore, I shouldn’t worry about it.” This mindset is pervasive in society, and it perpetuates discrimination, particularly against minority groups like the LGBTQ+ community, people of color, those living with HIV, and transgender folks.
Collective action is recognizing that public health issues, like HIV, are everyone’s responsibility, regardless of whether we’re directly impacted. Most of us know someone with HIV or someone who identifies as LGBTQ+. Collective action is about seeing the humanity in others and paying attention to issues that affect them. It’s our duty, as voters, to address these social issues because inequities still persist.
In short, collective action means that even if I’m not directly impacted by HIV/AIDS, I still have a role in ensuring that those who are achieve equity and have access to resources. Our society has a responsibility to fight discrimination and oppression. No one should be discriminated against because of their health status, who they love, or how they identify. Collective action fuels my commitment to creating, implementing, and enforcing policies that protect human rights and allow people to thrive in our society.
Danny: Yes! And as you were speaking, another quote came to mind: “Until we are all free, we are none of us free” by Emma Lazarus. It’s the same rhetoric—if we are not all in this together, then none of us will thrive.
Daniel: Building on what Rodrigo said, people who don’t identify as LGBTQ+ often think it’s not their problem. Many believe society will continue growing if we ignore the struggles of others—but that’s not true! There is no real progress if we leave people behind. We need to see the humanity in others, regardless of their situations. We all live through difficult moments—nothing is easy. This applies to anyone, regardless of social status. At any point in life, you could be exposed to HIV, become homeless, or face mental health challenges. No one is exempt from this.
My message is simple: think about your role in the community. You cannot thrive in a community if you only focus on yourself. And if you only think about yourself, what is the meaning of community? I live in this moment, as part of a community and society, and I cannot do it alone.
Rodrigo: As we reflect on the collectivity of our society and the complexity of the issues that impact us, I believe there is always a place for individuals to become active in their community and contribute to its betterment. However, I recognize that not everyone will “get up” and join the march, and that’s okay. My hope is that if a march passing by doesn’t call to your heart, you step aside and allow those who are moved to do the work. Don’t become an obstacle that makes others’ journeys more difficult. It’s okay to sit back and observe; just make sure you're not in the way of others' efforts.
With that said, thank you to everyone at the Office of LGBTQ Affairs. Thank you, Danny, for taking the time to chat with us and for the work you do in your own way. This is the collective action we’ve been talking about. I’m deeply grateful for this opportunity.
Danny: Oh my, you’re going to make me cry at work! I’m such a chiona (“crybaby”)!
Daniel: Llora, llora – cry, cry – it’s okay!
(Daniel, Rodrigo, and Danny laugh, then pause for a moment.)
Danny: With that being said, I want to thank you both for having this conversation with me and for uplifting others' stories. I know we've met in passing, but it’s such a pleasure to get to know you two even more now. These stories are often hidden and unspoken, but I hope this discussion ensures they are no longer forgotten.