How do I write about my friend Andrea? Where do I start? I guess I start at the beginning … not her beginning, but the beginning of our friendship.
In December 2019, just before the dark days of COVID shutdowns, I brought my beautiful wife to a holiday gathering of friends called the T-Network. We walked in and, very shortly after arriving, a quiet lady sitting off to the side began speaking to my wife in her native Portuguese. Soon they were having a conversation in Portuglish, a mixture of Portuguese and Spanish. In her own thick Colombian accent, the lady introduced herself as Andrea.
And so, a friendship was born. We quickly connected on social media and soon had many online interactions. In fact, Andrea became a regular fixture in my feed. We also found ourselves running into each other at numerous LGBTQ+-focused events and it was always a joy to see her.
As with all things, COVID shutdowns dampened our opportunities to further connect. My own COVID fears and depression kept me from interacting outside of my bubble and while Andrea was still there wishing us both happy birthdays, anniversaries, Merry Christmas, the budding friendship was not well nurtured … until October 2021 when I took a new role in Development for Hope CommUnity Center (or simply, Hope) in Apopka, Florida. Andrea had begun working there as an LGBTQ+ Immigrant Advocate only one week before I did. It was serendipity for sure.
At Hope, Andrea and I are both working in our different roles for the same goal. She works in Advocacy and Community Organizing, building community committees, securing safe spaces, visibility and representation for those who sit at the intersection of LGBTQ+ and Immigrant identities, and fighting for justice, equity and belonging for immigrants and others marginalized to the corners of society through bias and unjust laws. While I help raise the money necessary for her and others at Hope to continue their work.
In my time working with Andrea, I learned much more about her background. I learned how her life of “living undercover,” as she puts it, gave her the skills to be successful as an undercover agent in Colombian anti-drug law enforcement. She shared with me how she was under threat both for her work and for her identity and that pushed her to seek asylum in the USA. I learned that Andrea is fierce. Het-cis people will often refer to transgender people as being brave for living authentically. Andrea is brave because she was an undercover bad ass in her past life in Columbian law enforcement and because she is an authentic bad ass in her life today.
Hope CommUnity Center was founded 50 years ago when some radical Catholic nuns were invited by the Orlando Diocese to come to Central Florida and work with the area’s orange pickers and farm workers. The Sisters chose to love unconditionally and live their faith through action. And while the nuns themselves welcome everybody and love everybody, there are many very religious, Catholic conservatives that feel connected to Hope because of its birthplace in the church and the local diocese.
To have a person with the unapologetic authenticity of Andrea Montanez on staff can be a bit unexpected. Recently when a visiting priest from Poland asked Andrea how she would explain herself when she meets the almighty, she responded that she wouldn’t need to “explain herself” but would instead thank God for making her exactly as she should be. They prayed together and this interaction left the priest admitting that he had much to think on and learn. And such is the power of Andrea.
In the community she sits on numerous boards and committees, working with Come Out With Pride, Peer Support Space, Contigo Fund, The Mexican Consulate and Hope’s own QTIs (Queer Trans Immigrants) group. I often wonder when she sleeps. What I do not wonder about is where her power comes from. It comes from her infinite capacity to love and her unapologetic authenticity.
To view the full list of Watermark’s Remarkable People of 2022, click here.