Travels in a Gay Nation: Portraits of LGBTQ Americans

Modesto “Tico” Valle

284 Modesto “Tico” Valle P eople can make a difference,” Modesto Valle tells me. It’s a sentiment that he’ll articulate more than once during the hour we spend together at the Center on Halsted, Chicago’s new twenty-milliondollar LGBTQ community center, which opened in 2007. As executive director, Valle oversees what he calls “the most comprehensive LGBTQ community center in the country,” one that boasts a staff of sixty full- and part-time members and a budget of over five million dollars. But the impressive statistics are not what Valle wants to talk about. For him, it’s all about people: the people who helped to build the Center, the people they serve, and the people—many of whom may never utilize the Center’s formal services—who simply stop by for a cup of coffee in the attractive lobby/café lounge. “We were fortunate,” he tells me as we settle into his memorabilia-festooned office. “A lot of other LGBTQ community centers were built or inherited their space at a time when people had to be closeted. We built with glass.” In fact, the glass and the brilliant light streaming in are what immediately struck me on my arrival at the Center. The groundfloor lobby, a two-story, sun-filled atrium, overlooks North Halsted Street, the city’s gay thoroughfare. If architecture says something about the people who inhabit a building, then the initial impression 285 Modesto “Tico” Valle that the Center makes is one of relaxation, conversation, openness, and inclusion. “We wanted that. There were many donors who didn’t think they would ever use the Center themselves. We wanted to create the Center for them, too. You don’t need a reason to come here. Regardless of your sexual orientation, you can just drop in for a cup of coffee. We want to be known as a community center with a mission focused on the LGBTQ community and one that breaks down those barriers of bigotry and hatred.” The formula is working. Fifteen hundred people a day pass through the Center’s lobby. Valle is not shy about describing his work, and his entire life, as a kind of ministry. “To serve, to make a difference. I didn’t aspire to become executive director but to make a difference.” Born in Puerto Rico in 1964, Vale came to the States with his family when he was young. His mother had only one year of formal education; his father completed school through the eighth grade. “They were very poor, but not knowing they were poor. That’s a special kind of simplicity. My parents came to the States for opportunity and to give their kids a good education. They wanted to break the cycle of poverty.” The family settled in Chicago’s Old Town, at the time a melting pot of hippies and Latinos. Although his parents were Pentecostal Christians, they took an apartment close to St. Michael’s Church, a Roman Catholic parish that ran a good parochial grammar school. The neighborhood was going through gentrification. Valle remembers blocks and blocks being torn down. Despite having to move several times, his parents did not quit Old Town. “They wanted to remain where there was education and safety. They didn’t want us to be exposed to violence and gangs.” Valle attended Holy Trinity High School, a private Catholic school run by the Holy Cross Brothers. He has high praise for Holy Trinity, calling it a “welcoming, embracing community” with a nonjudgmental ethic. The all-male student body was predominantly first-generation Latino. Valle knew he was gay but was only out to a few friends. Some of his gay classmates were out to the school, which didn’t cause a problem, he says. “The beauty of the high school, the common thread, was that all the boys were intent on bettering their lives. At St. Michael’s, which was very conservative, you’d burn in hell for being gay. At Holy Trinity, no one was going to hell.” When I ask him what values he picked up during his high school years, Valle immediately shoots back, “Respect. The brothers taught us to respect one another and to respect the community. There was a lot of talk about community. I use that philosophy here in the Center.” Valle led a kind of double life in high school, unobtrusively pursuing his academics while also...