In San Francisco’s Castro, tradition meets queer identity through Jotería

In the heart of San Francisco’s Castro District, Antonio Castellanos is redefining a beloved Mexican tradition with a bold new vision for representation. 
Nine years ago in his small Castro studio, Castellanos began creating Jotería — a queer twist on the traditional Mexican game, Lotería. However, this is more than just a game; it’s a powerful challenge to deeply ingrained cultural norms within both the Hispanic and LGBTQ communities.
“What I’m trying to do is to show us. That’s it,” said Castellanos.
Jotería goes beyond simple gameplay. It confronts the machismo and homophobia often present in Hispanic culture. 
“Jotería means faggotry. And a person in Mexico when they’re using the word Jotería, which comes from the word joto, which is derogatory,” Castellanos explained. “But when you’re using the word Jotería is no longer derogatory because you are assimilating it to yourself.”
The game has been showcased at various festivals and events, where Castellanos interacts with people and teaches them how to play. Much like Lotería, Jotería’s rules are straightforward. Players draw cards and match them to images on their boards. 
But in Jotería, these images reflect queer culture, offering players a chance to see themselves represented in a way that traditional games may not allow.
According to research from the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) and the Trevor Project, Latino queer youth face significant challenges, with nearly half reporting feelings of isolation, and 42% stating that they have experienced rejection from their families. In this context, Jotería becomes more than just a game; it serves as a tool for young people to explore their identities in a safe and familiar environment, helping to create a sense of belonging.
“It’s still not the easiest thing, but this, at least, creates conversation,” Castellanos said, highlighting the importance of dialogue that Jotería fosters.
Castellanos’s journey to create Jotería was far from easy. Growing up gay in a traditional Hispanic household, he struggled to find acceptance. 
“As a queer kid, you learn to edit yourself so you can be accepted into your family,” he noted.
Luis Cornejo, a therapist specializing in working with queer Latino youth, acknowledged the impact of games like Jotería. 
“Jotería brings accessibility to something that is familiar to us and has allowed people to feel a lot safer when playing this game, but also the fact that it is an educational game,” Cornejo said.
For Castellanos, Jotería represents a mission to empower the next generation of queer Latinos while also helping families navigate these conversations together, just like in the game. 
“This is my mom, mi mamá. My dad. That’s me. This is my partner, and these are my sisters. That’s mi familia,” he said as he pointed to the personalized cards in the game.
As Castellanos continues to spread his message one game at a time, he’s not just changing the game — he’s changing lives.