Why I Give: Nico Santos

NICO SANTOS

Iwas 15 and lost in the San Francisco airport. My brother and I had flown alone from the Philippines to the United States, and we had missed our connecting flight to Portland, where we were going to live with my father.

In the pre-internet era, we were two teenagers clueless as how to rebook a flight, so we called our aunt who lived in the Bay Area. She left work, drove to the airport, fed us, bought me the cutest teal San Francisco sweatshirt, and got us on a flight to Oregon.

“This is what we do,” she said. “We have to look after each other.”

As immigrants, we’re no strangers to hardship. My big Filipino family is constantly checking in, making sure everyone has what they need. We all came to this country to pursue our dreams, so we lift each other up whenever we can.

When I moved to Los Angeles a little over a decade ago to pursue stand-up comedy, all I had was pocket change and a dream. Literally. I was broke, unemployed, and the only reason I wasn’t homeless was because my cousin let me crash on her couch in Altadena while I figured things out. My millions of other cousins made sure I was fed. My uncle lent me his old, beat up Chrysler Sebring. The key fob was broken so, every time I manually unlocked the driver’s side door, the alarm would sound which meant I had to crawl through the passenger side to avoid the stares of people thinking I was stealing my car.

It was a struggle to find a job and a place to call my own. The challenges of life felt insurmountable. To make things even harder, I couldn’t breathe. The L.A. air caused my asthma to flare up, and I was out of refills on my inhaler. Without health insurance or the cash to cover a doctor’s visit, my uncle suggested I research sliding scale clinics—and that’s how I discovered the Los Angeles LGBT Center.

Through the Center’s clinic, I got free STD screenings and primary care that was affordable for a restaurant host making $10 an hour...though, come to think of it, I might still owe the Center money. I’m pretty sure I skipped out on my last payment. We can call it even, right?

When the Center asked me to be a part of their Hearts of Gold concert to celebrate their historic 50th anniversary, I jumped at the opportunity because we are a family. We know struggle. We all have to look out for each other. It is incumbent upon those of us who have the means to lend what help they can to ensure that everyone has the chance to pursue their dreams. Every little bit helps. Our community survives and thrives only if we have each other’s backs. I’m proud to support the Center which, since 1969, has helped the most vulnerable members of the LGBT community: youth, seniors, immigrants, and people living with HIV. During my first years as a struggling stand-up comedian, the Center allowed me to breathe. Because of their help and the help of my big Filipino family and my big queer chosen family, I have the career I always dreamed of and am now in a position to give back—to help others breathe.

Anita May Rosenstein Campus 1118 N. McCadden Pl. Los Angeles, CA 90038

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