Radio QGLLU - Love Letters to Los Angeles: A Conversation with Poet Vicky Vertiz

LA poet Vicky Vertiz shares her journey from Bell Gardens to literary acclaim, exploring how her queer Latinx identity has shaped award-winning poetry collections that center working-class immigrant experiences without translation or apology.

Step into the vibrant world of queer Latine poetry with acclaimed Los Angeles writer Vicky Vertiz as she shares her remarkable journey from the working-class neighborhoods of Bell Gardens to literary recognition. Growing up along the LA River to Mexican immigrant parents, Vertiz crafts award-winning poetry that refuses to translate or apologize for its bilingual, bicultural essence.

"There is no place you can go in Los Angeles without us," Vertiz asserts, speaking of immigrant communities that form the backbone of her writing. Her first collection, "Palm Frond with its Throat Cut," won the 2018 Pan America Award by centering working-class queer experiences in unapologetic Spanglish. Her newest work, "Auto Body," which earned the 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize, explores repair across feelings, time, harm, and literal cars—a powerful metaphor for resilience in challenging times.

What makes Vertiz's story particularly compelling is her unconventional path to becoming a writer. Libraries were her sanctuary from childhood, but she never imagined herself an artist until witnessing other writers from her neighborhood succeed. "I had to see other people exactly like me from my neighborhood be artists in order for me to know that I could do it too," she reveals, after decades working in organizing, education, and public policy.

As both poet and educator at UC Santa Barbara, Vertiz approaches teaching with radical honesty about the political pressures affecting marginalized communities. She creates space for students to express fears while connecting them with resources and alternative perspectives. Her current memoir project serves as "time travel to repair the gaps I didn't have" growing up queer in Los Angeles.

For aspiring writers, Vertiz offers golden advice: read widely, especially works from outside the United States; document your stories without worrying initially about genre; and most importantly—share your work. "Writing only thrives and is nourished when you talk about it with your fellow writers," she emphasizes, highlighting how community sustains creativity.

• Born and raised in Bell Gardens to Mexican immigrant parents, Vertiz's second book "Auto Body" won the 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize
• First poetry collection "Palm Frond with its Throat Cut" won the 2018 Pan America Award, described as a love letter to Los Angeles
• Found her path to writing through libraries and reading, seeing other writers from her neighborhood succeed
• Poetry centers working-class, queer life using both Spanish and English without translating
• Uses writing and teaching to counter white supremacy, homophobia, and transphobia
• Emphasizes the importance of reading widely, documenting your stories, and building community
• Currently working on a memoir in poetry about being queer and coming of age in Los Angeles
• Writing communities like Macondo, Canto Mundo, and her San Gabriel Valley Food Club sustain her creative practice

You can find Vicky Vertiz at vickyvertiz.com or on Instagram @vickyvertiz. 

Chapters

• 0:00 Introduction to Vicky Vertiz
• 3:19 Palm Frond: A Love Letter to LA
• 9:51 Becoming a Writer Through Reading
• 15:35 Poetry Reading: "This Is My Home"
• 22:27 Writers Responding to Political Crisis
• 27:40 Poetry Reading
• 31:54 Writing Communities and Advice

Transcript

Rita Gonzlez: 0:04

Welcome to the Out Agenda. Coming to an archivekpfkorg, I'm Rita Gonzalez. We're going to go into this segment of Radio Q Glue. Welcome to the Radio Q Glue podcast, the show that takes a deep dive in what the queer, gay and lesbian Latin community is talking about. In today's episode, we're talking with Los Angeles poet, writer, educator and advocate, vicky Vertiz. I'm Rita Gonzalez. I'm Lidia Otero.

Mario J. Novoa: 0:44

And I'm Mario J Novoa. Today's guest, , was born and raised in Bell Gardens to Mexican immigrant parents. Her writing has been featured in the New York Times Magazine, the Los Angeles Review of Books, among other publications. Her second book, auto Body, won the 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize from the University of Notre Dame. Her first book is a love letter to Los Angeles Palm Frond with its throat cut and won a 2018 Pan America Award in Poetry. She's a recipient of many fellowships, such as the Mellon Foundation Bread Loaf, and also teaches writing and lives in Los Angeles. Hi, vicki, this is Lydia. Thanks for joining us here in Radio QGLLU. We met two years ago at the Joteria conference in Los Angeles and I've gone to one of your readings and I have your book here, auto Body, and I'm so excited that you're here with us and tell us about your creative energies and your life as a poet. When you talk about your book, palm Frond with its Throat Cut, you say it's a love letter to Los Angeles, so tell us more about your relationship to this city.

Vickie Vértiz : 2:08

Well, good morning everyone. I'm so happy to be here. I just wanted to say, before talking about my love letter to LA and Palmfront, is that so. I grew up in Bell Gardens, my family still lives there and I'm very connected to the LA River and the 710, having grown up along both of them. Um, like, witnessing your lives as queer people in Los Angeles like gave me a root of queer history in Los Angeles that I did not have and that I really needed, like I really needed that when I was growing up here and, um, I'm just really grateful for that. So I just want to say that I I value and appreciate and your work and everything that you do for keeping us connected as queer folks and Latinx folks in LA. So thank you.

Vickie Vértiz : 3:16

And so Palm Farm with Throat Cut was my first book, my first collection of poetry, and in it there is a centering and valuing of a working class, queer life in Los Angeles that uses pochonawar, that is both Spanish and English and queer and working class all at once, and it doesn't translate words for people, because it's centering the experience of those of us who might know what these words mean, where these places are and how, from my perspective, at least being from Southeast Los Angeles, and this kind of having a greater understanding of a Los Angeles that is filled with immigrants. Everywhere we go, everywhere you go in Los Angeles, there are immigrants. There is no place you can go without us. So, knowing that the book centers who we are, and so one of the poems that I believe um really highlights this and, like embodies, it is called this is my Home, which is actually the title of a Quetzal song, so the band Quetzal, you know, marta González and Quetzal Flores, and it is shaped like water flowing through the LA river and, as you know, sometimes there's not a lot of water there, so it's got a funny kind of meandering shape.

Vickie Vértiz : 4:43

And you know, my writing is both like narrative but also experimental, and so I find myself throughout palm fronding, conversation with artwork, like other other queer people of color's artwork, in particular Danny Hauray, who's has a piece of visual art called Palm Front, with its throat cut, and so I'm in conversation with multiple generations, with multiple languages, with multiple ways of being, but centering like a working class perspective and language and point of view. Yeah, so that's Palm Front. That was my first book and it won a Penn America prize, which is really special.

Mario J. Novoa: 5:33

Well, congratulations on all your accolades. Uh, this is mario.

Vickie Vértiz : 5:35

Um, I wanted to know if you always knew that you wanted to be a writer growing up. No, but I was a reader and so I have the great fortune of teaching at UC Santa Barbara as a unionized lecturer. So I'm a union union gal, union femme from, like my family. My dad was a union man from the glass workers, so I teach there now and I went to the Santa Barbara library to pick up some books and I waltzed out of there full of joy with a stack of books that is me since I was five. So, like the library is my special place, it is a place of wonder and discovery and also rebellion. Right, there are things there that we can find to see ourselves and to see ourselves out of situations we don't want to be in as a country or as a person or as a gardener, like. Whatever your speed is, the library's got something for you.

Vickie Vértiz : 6:32

So, like other young people, you know you write a lot in school and you know I've kept a journal since I was really young because we had to, but then kept it up in order to, like, document my life, and I've always been really interested in guides. So as a child I would read the yearbooks of my middle schools to see what kids were up to and what I could do, like what was possible for me. So I've always been interested in finding paths and maps in the things that I read, and so, as a writer now, that's what I'm hoping to leave in my writing and in my books, right Like here's the path I walked, here's things I wish I knew. Here are things that break my heart. Do they break yours too? In that sense, being a reader helped me become a writer and my path to that was paved with having to have a career that could support me and my family if I needed it to, right.

Vickie Vértiz : 7:39

So being an artist was not something I ever thought I could do, and not until I'd had a full life in organizing and education and public policy did I say, okay, now I can be. I think I can be an artist now, and it took quite a few years to be able to, to see myself to lay the groundwork and an entire generation of Chicana and Chicanx writers to look to, to say this is my legacy, this is my canon, and Black writers like Black radical artists, the Black arts movement, right. So it just took me most of my adult life to give myself permission and to find the way into becoming an artist too, because I didn't know what that was. I didn't have a path for that.

Vickie Vértiz : 8:21

I had to meet writers who looked like me, aida Salazar, in particular, from Maywood. She's an incredible artist YA writer, middle grade writer, highly decorated, and that girl's from you know Atlantic and Slauson. So I had to see other people exactly like me from my neighborhood be artists in order for me to know that I could do it too. So reading is so important, right? It just it takes us to new places, and if it wasn't for libraries, yeah, I wouldn't be here.

Rita Gonzlez: 8:50

Would you be willing to read something you wrote with us?

Vickie Vértiz : 8:54

So I want to read this is my home, from Palm Front with its still cut, and I also have a poem from Auto Body and if you'd like, I could read one from each. They're pretty short. Um, yeah, this is my home. I don't want to start off broken, but my pencil is running out. That's okay. We have more lead in the yard. My home is I can't breathe Surrounded by sound walls. You can't hear In that quiet a child finishes their homework closing a good thing.

Vickie Vértiz : 9:31

The LA River ends in Vernon. After Slauson the friends of the river run out too. The death stench in our water, in our jobs, in the classroom, everywhere a gas leak. This is my home. My mother and brother are 10,000 truck miles. Why won't their coughs go away? The freeway, my lover says. Coffins with windows, pig fat rendered into lipsticks. We're bottling the leftovers. Crates of rotten chitlins will detonate over San Marino lawns. When I took Amma to the garden in that city, she looked out the windshield at their grass and said they don't have earthquakes here, do they, chata? They do, I said. They just don't have to feel them. This is our home. Arsenic fairy dust on wedding cookies.

Vickie Vértiz : 10:21

A student plucks a lead bloom and sharpens in the lungs, cancer berries cluster, and it's no use this poem. Someone said I lost my parents to the pollution and no one's come to clean my yard. You can have our methane clouds, windshield tackles, the river is a stream and the freeway is always running. We are death flower orchard 21 square miles, opening and closing Our miscarriages, bubble and thin into glue. I've never felt worthless. We plant broken glass in the riverbed. We dream about dabbing lead perfume behind your clean pink ears, jumping our skateboards off the cement and into your bright white teeth. My home is invisible. Wild lupine, though it blooms a purple with tumor pistils. This is our bogambilia triplex. This is our date palm. This is our jacaranda. This is my home. We stole the whole thing up. That sushi you're eating. It's cueritos from the Farmer John's. Who are the fools? Not this nopal light. The student is boiling our water to get rid of your poison. The start, the finish, the PE mile you had to run. It's here A river's reverie, the you and me.

Rita Gonzlez: 11:44

Then water. Thank you so much for that. It just I was just sitting here with you, I was just so immersed with the LA River and a lot of us have experiences with the LA River and it's our own and I was going through mine right now, so thank you for that. I have another question. As Latin queers, we are facing new and different challenges in this political time right now. How are writers in the Los Angeles area responding to these political times? That's a tough one one.

Vickie Vértiz : 12:18

Yeah, well, there's. There's just so many, right? So, um, so, writers in Los Angeles are composed of so many different communities and the ones that I'm connected to primarily writers of color. That doesn't mean that we're not connected to Anglo writers or European writers, or so the the writers I'm connected to are are mostly people of color and also queer, and those of us in the community I'm connected to have always been working to support different kinds of struggles and movements and to protect various parts of our communities, right, whether we are immigrants, whether we are queer, whether we are both, and so the different kinds of things I've seen are things like fundraising right on one end. On the other, is writing and centering our writing about and centering our communities in a way that resists and pushes back against white supremacy, transphobia and homophobia. Right, every time we have a new crisis, and in particular right now with what's going on with immigration, right, and in particular, right now with what's going on with immigration right. So I've seen lots of different writers like going out to protest, like I myself was out, screen printing shirts written in K'iche' Right. So our Los Angeles is now more indigenous and in the Latina community, and so I feel like there's a new energy, focus and support that's helping that part of our community that, growing up, we did not either see or have as present in our minds. And Los Angeles is much more indigenous Mexican than it was when I was growing up, which is not to say that they were not here. This is Indian land, right, so, but in terms of like, like a political presence.

Vickie Vértiz : 14:21

So what are writers doing? Fundraising, right. All of my books. The proceeds go partially to El Otro Lado, middle East alliance, um, the black migrant justice project. So I I think those of us who are implicated in what's going on, right. Those of us whose civil rights are being threatened or taken away, who are witnessing our communities being kidnapped, right. I think that we're intervening in as many ways as possible, and so at least the part of the community that I'm from, I think we've always been involved in some way or cared, and so are trying to think of different ways to intervene, interrupt and protect our families, communities and neighbors. Right. But I also have to remember that the lane that I'm in is that I'm also a parent, and so I'm parenting my child in the apocalypse. So that's a big job.

Vickie Vértiz : 15:03

I have a couple of writing projects that I'm working on and so and one of them is a, a memoir in poetry that is about being queer and coming of age in Los Angeles and you know your community the Q glue and the glue from the 80s was something I really needed back then, and so what I'm trying to do, in a way, is time travel to repair the gaps I didn't have.

Vickie Vértiz : 15:32

And so, as an artist, like what? And as a teacher, what repair can I do in real time for my students to connect them to the resources and information that they need now to see the paths that they can take to support themselves, but also to protect themselves and their communities from being harmed. Right, so I include a lot of resources, like okay, so here are our red cards, here is you know how we act, um, should there be a raid? Like here's the number to the school's uh, lawyer, immigration lawyer. So I'm like really conscious of and resourced with my students about what they might need, what they have questions about. So those are the different ways that I integrate. How we can defend and protect ourselves and then how we center ourselves in my writing is the way that I kind of counter white supremacy and homophobia and transphobia on that end. So I'm kind of working at it from different angles.

Lydia Otero: 16:31

Great, this is Lydia and you're my reader in sorts because my question segues about into your role as a teacher. But I really dig the idea of brown and queer time travel. So I'm no longer an educator, but since you're there now working with young people, and what you talked about in terms of the increased ICE presence, the increased military presence in Southern California, are you seeing, are they expressing these kinds of feelings, maybe fears, in the writing? Is it evident in their writing?

Vickie Vértiz : 17:11

So I get to teach a few demographics of students In creative writing generally there are not as many people of color as there are in classes such as writing for Chicanx Studies, which is also something I teach. But in all of my classes I begin with acknowledging who I am, where I come from and what my approach is, so I bring myself and my body and my community into the room. I do that so that we're creating a space where the dominant narratives are no longer dominant with us. I am your teacher as a queer, like someone who grew up working class she kind of from Los Angeles was like made it her life's work to be a specialist in her family, to study herself and her family and her community as the way that we're going to practice writing. So seeing ourselves on the page, our communities and what motivates us to be here and to write about ourselves and each other. So we start with that and then, of course, like from that, I assess how they're doing, because I acknowledge and have been acknowledging since I started teaching there, we're continuing to live under duress. We're continuing to teach and have to learn, having to learn and be college students when our families are being deported, when we fear that the Department of Education will shut down. The Department of Education will shut down. We won't have scholarships anymore when we can't afford to live anywhere like. We are under such intense pressures about the possibilities of any future that I, as an educator, feel like it's just the basics to acknowledge what we're living under.

Vickie Vértiz : 18:55

And then, having laid that foundation, I asked them if they're interested in getting resources or information about the things that are going on in the world, because they don't necessarily know about democracy now. They don't necessarily know about so many other alternative medias and places to go for information and much less the non-profit organizations that would help them figure out how to address or solve the issues that they or their families are facing. This is where my public policy and organizing background is so handy as a professor right, basically, like any interest my students have, from health to the arts, I can point them in the right direction towards an organization, an artist, an individual that is addressing the issues that they're concerned with. So they write research papers in my Writing for Chicanx Studies class. They're concerned with right, so they write research papers in my writing for chicanx studies class. And I again like communities for environmental justice sorry, communities for better environment. In southeast la east yard, I pointed my students to them because they're writing about environmental justice in los angeles and I said oh, I know who to point you to, right? So students are curious, they're scared, and we as educators need to make the spaces for them to express those. And then in the writing, I point them towards what they love, towards celebrating the things and people that they love, the places they love, and in other spaces I make room for their grief and for my own.

Vickie Vértiz : 20:37

I regularly cry in class because there's so many things to cry about. Right, feeling is something I also teach as an important, rigorous academic tool. Your feelings are important. They tell you important information. We must listen to them, right. So it's really beautiful to actually bring in everything I've learned from home, right, and so that's called now like organic intellectualism, right, so home knowledge. But I also use that to remind students that they come to the university with great knowledge, with a lineage and legacy of beautiful knowledge that they learned from home, from remedios, from their families, from their social interactions that we, that academia does not value and does not frequently recognize. And so there's a lot of work that we do in my classes around writing, but also around seeing ourselves as scholars, intellectuals and archivistsists, and our families too. So we're building a foundation to see ourselves differently and to and to welcome all different kinds of feelings and resources in order to continue being who we are instead of pretending those feelings aren't there.

Mario J. Novoa: 21:55

Vicki, this is Mario. Again, thank you for sharing some of your knowledge and bringing your educator self to the conversation. I'm sure that our listeners are getting a lot about what you shared in terms of feelings and mental health and ways to combat this situation that we're currently in for all different kinds of people. I'm wondering if we can tap back into your writer's side again, maybe if you can read another passage from your book.

Vickie Vértiz : 22:28

Well, I would love to yeah. So Auto Body is my latest collection collection and on the cover is a 65 Ford Mustang fastback and it's this is an homage to my family's incredible repair skills and repair across feeling, time, harm and literal physical cars. So I have two short poems I want to read from that 69 Chevy Impala. What I learned from my father's honking is that women on the street are just like everyone's mom leggings and long t-shirts. They shoot him dirty looks. I tell him to stop. They shoot him dirty looks. I tell him to stop. Slink into the back seat, cover my face with my hands. We're all in the car with him. Chuy. My brother repeats what I said in a whiny voice. Our baby brother is asleep. Watch the road, pinche viejo Ama says she sucks her teeth. She sucks her teeth, sighs. Dad laughs, twists his mustache. He's waiting for the green light. There's nowhere to go. I want to run out of the car to Chris's Burgers with my friends or to the Toys R Us on Eastern. Dad always says the same thing to me Ponte, trucha, mija. Look out. He bobs and weaves, punches the air. He tugs his bottom eyelid. Watch everything.

Vickie Vértiz : 24:04

My dad can make you laugh even when you're mad. He's a real hit. He can get a job, a drink, a look, anytime. You can drop him anywhere in the world and in two days he'd have a job and a woman to chase. But he's a crooked accountant. His math's messed up, hides debt in too much information. Be careful, he says there's a lot of locos out there. He points out to the world with his chin, to the world with his chin. Okay, up by, say whatever. But I am a great student. He teaches me to look out, to give men nasty looks, but also that fools can honk at anything in a skirt and get to drive away. That sounds good to me. Do whatever you want, go wherever you want, and no one tells you shit.

Mario J. Novoa: 25:00

Thank you. Thank you for sharing that with us. You've been a powerful part of a writing community. Bona Macondo, canto Mundo. What does community play in your creative process, especially when writing can be sometimes isolating?

Vickie Vértiz : 25:22

As writers, you cannot hone your craft without other people, without conversation, without knowing who your audience is or picturing them in your mind and so sharing as an implicit part of writing. I'm a really social person and so I learn better in groups and have been really lucky to have seen the path of writing via community and different groups of writers. So workshops are one way to make new friends, learn about craft, build community and build your networks. And so I came to writing as someone in her 30s who had already had several careers and much experience in the world. So I applied everything I had known and learned from those jobs and experiences to writing. So I already knew that your connections, your friendships, all of that influences and nurtures and nourishes who you are. Yesterday I was reminded that writing only thrives and is nourished when you talk about it with your fellow writers, and I was having lunch with a fellow writer and talking to her about this YA novel and realized that as I was describing what this book is about, that you know the ending should be. You know this really beautiful scene that I described about going into this queer women of color space in San Francisco in the early 2000s and I wouldn't have been able to see that had I not had that conversation.

Vickie Vértiz : 27:03

So your relationships, your connections, sharing are integral parts of writing, and I'm reminded of that every time I get stuck or every time I miss my writing community. And I've begun to miss them because, as a parent of an infant, I've had to give up a lot of what my former life as a writer looked like. I was frequently traveling, frequently sharing my work in many places all over the world, all over the country, and with a toddler it's just not possible in the same way, and so I've had to really figure out how to recreate what a writing life looks like for myself at this stage in my life. But I know and greatly value my connections to other writers, and so I'm part of a group of writers called the San Gabriel Valley Food Club, and we get together, we eat and we talk about writing too, right. But so I value that greatly, I nurture it as much as I can. You really can't be a writer without it. Yeah, you need your community, you need your people.

Lydia Otero: 28:10

Thank you, vicky. That writing group sounds cool. So to end the show, I know that there's some people listening to the show today, some maybe young folks but they don't have to be young but queer brown folks trying to write, trying to create. So share with us something, and in the form of advice, something that you wish somebody had shared with you or told you when you started out as a poet and a writer.

Vickie Vértiz : 28:42

I feel like there's there's a few things I think. The first one is to read as widely as you can and really use that library card to the full extent. Use those books that you read as places to start and then find out who the teachers of those writers were, who are their contemporaries. Read books written outside of this country. There are incredible legacies of literature and poetry from all over the world that our country doesn't acknowledge, recognize, know of, but the world itself does. And so really go read as widely as possible, right? So that's the first advice. And the second part of that advice is that when you do that, and you then should look up who these writers are, where they've gone, where they've studied, where they might be, you look up their interviews too. So we need to get to know the writers and their craft, to have a map for ourselves, to see which parts we connect with and which parts we don't. And just because people are great writers doesn't mean they're great teachers. That's my other piece of advice, right, like you might find this fantastic writer who's got all these awards, but they're terrible teachers. So you have to do a little bit of homework, you have to be a detective and a writer and then, if you're thinking about writing, put the stories down first. That's what Shirdi Moraga told me. She's like don't worry about the genre yet, write down the stories first. And so find places or ways to write down your stories, right. So there's classes, there's workshops, there are things online that you can watch. The amazing writer, ariana Brown, and Alan Pelaz Lopez have a whole series on YouTube that are prompts for writing. These Black, latina and queer writers and these incredible YouTube videos. So there are all these resources that I, you know, a lot of us didn't have when we were just starting to write. So find ways to get your stories down and the last part is just to share. Find places to share, find these classes, find open share. Find these classes, find open mics, find library events.

Vickie Vértiz : 31:02

To be a writer, you have to be proactive. I feel like that might be the advice for any career. Like, you have to be curious, you have to be brave and you have to be persistent and a little bit of a detective, and with writing, with more than than anything, sharing is so important. The sharing is how you connect with others, how you see how your audience reacts to what you're writing. Maybe I know that I've read some things in spaces where I realized maybe that was too sarcastic and that wasn't actually what I was trying to do. So, like you have to really test out, if you do not read things out loud, you don't know how they are going to land and you actually don't know how they sound. So that's a lot of advice. I teach entire classes where I continue to give advice, right, but those are the first ones, right? I think, like putting the stories down, reading widely and sharing that will really set you on on a path.

Vickie Vértiz : 31:56

And also, ultimately, what is writing? There are lots of different writing lives to have. Not everybody's going to be Stephen King and not everybody should be, and we have so many different writers in the world to to look to, for different paths. Gabrielle Seville is a um, this wonderful, uh, black writer who writes about Black time, black space, beauty, liberation, possibility, and you know I only found her through a class that I taught. So one link leads to another and you have to keep following them in order to be able to see yourself and to explode. What you think is possible and what Gabrielle Seville explodes for me is the idea of like. Being a writer is is also being a performer is also looking for joy and community and can only find those things through performance and writing. So writing offers like so many different ways of being, and so just encourage anyone who's interested to really just experiment, be a detective and be courageous, like just get it down on the page and then find other people who did the same thing.

Rita Gonzlez: 33:07

Thank you, that's great advice. Now, how may our listeners contact you or find out about you?

Vickie Vértiz : 33:16

Listeners can go to my website, vickyvertizcom for updates on events, for links to my books. I'm also sometimes on Instagram at vickyvertiz, but my website is the best place to find out about events and about where to get my books. But yeah, they're available at bookstores and libraries and anywhere books are sold.

Lydia Otero: 33:40

Once again we've been talking with Los Angeles poet, writer, educator and advocate, vicky Vertiz. I'm Lidia Otero

Mario J. Novoa: 33:48

Mario J. Novoa.

Rita Gonzlez: 33:50

And I'm Rita Gonzalez. Radio Q Glue is a segment of the Out Agenda and we want to hear from you. You can like us on our Facebook page or email us at theoutagenda at gmailcom or you can visit our website on Buzzsprout under Radio Q Glue or the Glue Archives. Thanks for listening and have a wonderful week, and remember that being out is the first step to being equal. Now stay tuned for this Way Out.