What’s dance got to do with it?
Did you know that a thing called the Gay Games exists? Yeah, neither did I (explains the column title). It’s like the Olympics, but, well, for queer people. And yes, as fun and fabulous as it sounds, it is equally as serious and prestigious. In fact, it’s been going on for 36 years now. It was first held in San Francisco in 1982, then known as the Gay Olympics, with 17 sports, 12 nations, and 1,350 participants (This year’s Games had more than 36 sports, 14 cultural events, 91 nations, and 10,317 participants). The Gay Games aims to promote “equality in and through sport and culture,” according to its website, and is held every four years.
In trying to be as inclusive as possible, the Games do not discriminate in any way, and is open to anyone who wishes to participate. Yes, there is literally no barrier to entry (save for the registration fee and actually getting yourself there), but that doesn’t mean to imply that gay people are bad at sports or anything — I mean, have you seen how competitive we are?
Kidding aside, it might interest you to know that there are actually Filipinos who join the Gay Games, and actually really excel in their categories. One such Filipino is Jan Cerezo, who competes in dancesport, AKA competitive ballroom dancing, in the same-sex category (this is the Gay Games, after all). But Jan isn’t just a gay dancesport athlete competing in the Gay Games. He’s a gay dancesport athlete competing in the Gay Games in drag. Which might seem like a totally normal thing at a queer sporting event, but it almost didn’t happen for Jan, as he found out right before registering.
Jan wanted to join the Gay Games because he couldn’t find a “serious” dancesport event here in the Philippines that allows drag competitors. “When they do same-sex ballroom dancing, they don’t dress in drag,” Jan shares, “So both male competitors are dressed in traditional men’s clothes.” He ended up running into essentially the same problem: when Jan contacted the Games ahead of the event, he was told that no one in the men’s same-sex category had ever danced in drag before, and the Games committee was hesitant about letting him do it. According to Jan, they said that the Games as a committee is okay with people dancing in drag, “but not in a competition as prestigious as the Gay Games.”
Naturally, Jan contested this. “When I was reading the rules, they just said that the clothes you’re supposed to wear should be decent,” Jan shares. “There was no mention of drag. So I guess, I think, the thought had never occurred to them.” But, in fact, people have been dancing in drag in the Gay Games for a while now, just not in the men’s samesex category. In the women’s same-sex category, the women are allowed to wear pants, which are not traditional women’s dancesport attire. Everything ironed itself out eventually, with Jan having to submit a video of him dancing in his dress. “I was kind of turned off because I had to prove myself; (but) I think they also didn’t want for people to dance and look funny in drag.”
With everything sorted out, Jan and his dance partner flew out to Paris for the 2018 Gay Games. Despite several hurdles with finances and Jan actually getting sick right when they got to France, the pair placed fourth. Not only did they pioneer having a man dressed as a woman compete in a male same-sex dance competition, but they also went to the finals. Jan’s dress (designed by Rej Bagonoc and constructed by Chikay Montayre) probably helped grab the judges’ attention, but you know it’s the talent that takes you most of the way.
It’s not just being able to dance in drag and placing fourth that made this Gay Games special for Jan, however. It also helped open his eyes to becoming an advocate for equal rights in the Philippines, and campaigning for the SOGIE bill. While they were in Paris, Jan met up with fellow Filipino athletes from the games, and they were discussing the bill’s importance, and where the country is in terms of LGBTQ+ rights. “They said that one way we could empower the gay community is to show what we are able to do through the competition,” Jan shares, “I was very much enlightened, (because) my personal reason for wanting to compete was because I couldn’t compete as a girl here (in the Philippines).” That was when Jan realized that there was more to the competition than just his personal goals, that it was an opportunity to become an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community.
And in advocating for the SOGIE bill, it is Jan’s wish to challenge the stereotype that gay people are of lesser capability just because they’re seen as different. “I want to inspire the gay athletes and gay dancers to not be ashamed of who they are, that they can also excel in their sport.” And it’s not just the LGBTQ+ community Jan wants to speak to, but the Filipino people in general. Again, the stereotype: “When you think of gay, if somebody’s gay,
parang mahina siya, he can’t be athletic. So that’s something that I want to change. Just because you’re gay, it doesn’t mean you can’t be into sports.”
And just as a lot of people are shamelessly bad gays (myself included) — some of which actually believe these stereotypes — it’s individuals like Jan who show us how one can have a positive impact on the LGBTQ+ community by doing what we love. Imagine: if we were all this way, we would rule the world. But you gotta leave some room for the straights — it’s equality we’re fighting for, after all.
Competitive ballroom dancer Jan Cerezo is scaling new heights — and is taking the LGBTQ+ community with him.