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I was born in America, but I consider myself a Filipino.

I was a shy gay man at a time when it was illegal to be gay.

In the '50s and '60s, the life of a gay man was a secret. Homosexuality was illegal, so you didn't draw attention to yourself.

Remember that I was out of the closet at the age of sixteen. My parents knew I was gay; I'd had to tell them.

All I know is that I'm proud to be Filipino.

I was taken out of school by my dad when I was 11 and lived in Mexico City, then later in Paris. I went with him to excavate in Bolivia and Peru. I never finished high school. I was a straight F student anyway. My father admitted to me later that he'd thought I would come to no good.

When you look at me, you can't really tell what I am, but I'm black, white, Native, Spanish, and a little bit of Filipino.

I've been openly gay since I can remember.

People don't really assume that I'm Filipino. Of course, they're gonna think, 'Oh, are you some sort of Hispanic?' and you say, 'No, I'm actually not.' I get Korean or Chinese a lot.

Discovering I'm gay just sort of happened much later in life.