News of Juan Gabriel’s passing spread quickly over social media. My Facebook feed was full of grief and disbelief. Everyone loved him. But what made Juan Gabriel so incredible was that straight people loved him. They loved his songs, his voice, his penchant for dramatics. They sang along with him at all his shows. His penas, immortalized in his beautifully crafted lyrics, would become their own. Yes, straight people loved him, but the truth is they will never fully understand just how important Juan Gabriel was to us, to those of us who identify as LGBTQ.
Juan Gabriel existed unapologetically. His queerness lived uninhibited in the silences, in the spaces donde lo que se ve no se pregunta. His queerness existed in ways that mirror that of so many of us: in unspoken truths, in knowing glances, in winks, in defiance. He didn’t need to say because it was manifest. And it was all by choice. He refused to tone-down in order to be palatable to a society that valued rigid heteromasculinity. In fact, as the years went by he did the exact opposite, his shows becoming an indulgent tribute to his unrepentant femininity. In doing so, he created spaces where queerness could simply be, no explanations required.
Losing him is incredibly heartbreaking, not just because he was a prolific singer and songwriter but because of what he represented in the mythos of Mexican culture, both inside Mexico and in the diaspora. He lived his truth as best he knew how. He represented possibility for so many who saw themselves reflected in him. He will be missed terribly, and tributes — well deserved — will follow in the months that come. But all of them will fail to fully encompass the man who won over the heart of Mexico with a wink.
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Karari Olvera is the genderqueer first-born of Mexican immigrant parents. An activist, writer, and makeup aficionado, they serve on the board of United Latin@ Pride, Trans Oral History Project, and the local chapter of the Trans Latin@ Coalition.