Talking with Moises Serrano on Being Undocumented and Queer in Rural America

It is sadly fitting that the documentary "Forbidden: Undocumented and Queer in Rural America" begins with the voice of Donald Trump railing against Mexicans in the summer of 2015 when he was announcing that he was running for President. There was a time when a Republican presidential wannabe would be demonizing gays, but in the new normal of the Culture Wars, the target has shifted thanks to Trump, who has brought bashing Mexicans and Muslims into the national dialogue.

But what of someone who is both gay and undocumented? Meet Moises Serrano, the subject of Tiffany Rhynard's pertinent doc that airs on Logo on Friday, September 1. EDGE first interviewed Rhynard last year when the film was playing the film festival circuit. We revisited it this week, with some additional quotes for Serrano.

When he was 18-months old, Serrano was carried by his parents on a grueling journey across the desert from Mexico to the United States. The family settled in Yadkin County, North Carolina, about as removed from America's urban centers as can be imagined.

Telling Moises' story

Growing up doubly-marginalized in the Bible Belt would be enough to send someone on the first bus to New York; but Serrano chose to stay and fight, turning his anger into activism speaking for both the undocumented and the LGBTQ communities. Throughout the film Serrano is seen speaking out against our current immigration policies to school and church groups, at political rallies and with activists. His easy manner and rhetorical skills make him a compelling spokesperson, something that Rhynard picked up on when seeing him speak a few years ago.

"When he told me his story of immigrating to the United States with his family as a young boy, I was moved, inspired, and felt called to action," she explained. "I thought that I was a relatively well-informed liberal; but quickly realized there was so much I did not know. I wanted to know more and I wanted to use my skills as a filmmaker to help him get his story out to as many people as possible."

With the help of her co-producer Heather Mathews, Rhynard traveled with Serrano across North Carolina filming his public appearances. She also chronicles his personal journey as a gay Millennial attempting to find connections in a region where LGBTQ culture is under the radar, which leads to Moises finding Brandon, a lanky, personable college student whom he moves in with. At one moment in the film, they have a frank conversation about whether they're ready for marriage, which could in theory lead to Moises's citizenship. When Moises relocated to attend Sarah Lawrence College, they attempted a long-term relationship, but it has since ended.

"We are actually no longer together," Serrano explained earlier this month. "Long distance relationships are incredibly hard, and it was even harder to vocalize that it was no longer working for me. However, we were able to rely on our friendship and we are on great terms!"

Travel can be dangerous

Those on the outside have no idea how difficult life can be for an undocumented immigrant. Travel, even driving to the local 7-11, can be dangerous in a state as regressive as North Carolina. Being caught with an out-of-date license could trigger the driver's deportation, yet in a rural area like Yadkin County, driving is integral to daily life. The specter of deportation haunts Serrano, his family and the other illegals seen in the film, especially since the Trump administration has amped up ICE (Immigration Crime Engagement).

"The reality is that [the ICE agency does] have a priority and it's to try and set a record number of deportations," said John Sandweg, the former Acting Director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and former Acting General Counsel of the Department of Homeland Security, to reporters last Friday. "To actually do that with the complexity of the immigration enforcement system, you actually do need to implement a priority. And their priority is to focus on individuals who can be deported quickly. In plain English, these are individuals who do not need to see an immigration court judge."

"I can say the fear that exists in the undocumented community has become worse with the new administration," Moises explained last month. "There is so much uncertainty right now in terms of the safety of immigrants, and immigrant youth specifically. Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) has come under fire by anti-immigrant politicians. They wish to pressure Trump to end the program. Throwing again, hundreds of thousands of immigrant youth back under the threat of deportation. Instead of hoping to expand protections to more immigrants under this administration we are trying to protect the only program we have (DACA)."

Serrano came to activism four years ago when he went public with his immigration status to highlight the need for passing the Dream Act. It came as a release from the dark place he had gone to. "I think my activism came from a sense of fight or flight. After having lingered in dead end jobs after school, I was working in factories and I fell into a deep depression. I had suicidal thoughts. That's when I knew I had hit rock bottom. This wasn't the life I wanted to live and I had to do something to change it."

Get involved

When Rhynard came to him about being the subject of a documentary, he didn't equivocate in his willingness to open his life up to the cameras. "I had already been openly out as undocumented for two years. So by this point I was ready to share my story with a wider audience. Also, I have seen that actually being open about your immigration status can protect you from deportation."

But, he added, it isn't without worry. "When you are undocumented anything can be taken away from you at any moment. I have learned to live with uncertainty. However, the halting of the expansion of Deferred Action and DAPA has only motivated me to work harder and to try to reach more people."

Does he worry now about deportation?

"No, I have never been worried about my own deportation," Serrano said earlier this month. "My immigration advocacy and this documentary have given me an incredible platform to not only bring light to these issues, but to also build a strong community of individuals. I have full confidence that if I were targeted, my community would have my back. What continues to terrify me is the safety of my family and community members who do not have this platform and who do not have the privilege to be as visible as I am."

One of the film's more inspiring memes follows Serrano's pursuit of attending college. Fed-up after a string of dead-end jobs, he applies to Sarah Lawrence College. He gets accepted, but when the cost appears prohibitive, he nearly has to decline; that is until he's able to secure a full scholarship. This month Serrano enters his final year of college. "At first I did struggle. However, I have had the fortune of finding understanding and supportive professors who have made it easier for me to still remain active, especially with this documentary."

What can an average person do to help?

"Get involved locally!" Serrano says. "Lobby your cities and state legislatures for sanctuary cities. So much of an undocumented immigrants' fate is actually dictated at a local level. Partnerships with ICE, Drivers Licenses, E-verify and In-State tuition eligibility for undocumented immigrants are all decided at the county and state level. If you need help finding a local group, head on over to UnitedWeDream.org. The National Immigration Law Center also has great resources!"

"Forbidden: Undocumented and Queer in Rural America" will be screened on Logo on Friday, September 1 at 8pm. For more details, visit the Logo website.