Ozone Park, Queens. 1992.

One afternoon, my grandma was sitting in her bed watching one of those infamous ‘90s daytime television talk shows. This one was The Jenny Jones Show. My grandma was smiling at the TV, as sunny as the rays pouring through her bedroom window. Before I could say anything, she told me to rush inside and see. My aunt Bianca was on TV! 

Bianca was sitting on a TV studio stage, legs crossed looking smoldering, and wearing black latex everything: she mesmerized in a black latex bodysuit, long gloves and thigh high boots. She rocked red lipstick and her long black hair pulled you in through the television screen.

Even at six years-old, I knew that Bianca on Jenny Jones was a big deal. She was my aunt and babysitter and also a star! And like many stars, Bianca had a stage name, her dominatrix name: Exotica.

“Mira, Maria,” my grandmother motioned to the screen. “Que dice Boris?” Boris was Bianca’s birth name, but the name posted outside her hospital room the last time I saw her had read: Bianca Maldonado.

My grandma wanted to know what her daughter Bianca was saying to Jenny Jones. My grandma knew Jenny Jones was a big deal too, watched by millions. Bianca had been on the ‘90s talk show circuit--she was a guest on Phil Donahue, Richard Bey, twice on Howard Stern’s game show Howie-Weird Squares, and Cristina on Univision. This was also a big deal because Bianca aka “Exotica” was a transwoman and sex worker, who was out and trans and sexy and proud on national TV. 

“What about you, Exotica? Do you have family and what do they think?” Jenny Jones asked as Exotica’s mother and six-year-old niece watched from my grandmother’s bed in Queens.

“Yes, I have parents,” Bianca replied. “My mother in the beginning was not quite happy with what I used to do, you know, being a call girl. But you know, what I’m doing now as a dominatrix, she’s happy. She gives me 100% support. I speak to her every week.”

As a kindergartener, I couldn’t translate all that in time for my grandma, so I remember paraphrasing and telling her:

“Boris dice que tu esta happy y proud de el.” This is when my family was still using he/him pronouns for Bianca. We had a very limited understanding of trans identity, and Bianca was still transitioning when she died at age 30 in 1996. She passed from AIDS related complications just four years after my grandma and I revelled watching Bianca shine, smirk and be herself on that Jenny Jones stage.

And it was true, we were proud of her. We still are.

Bianca was on television several times, maybe 7-10, I can’t be sure because these vintage ‘90s daytime TV show recordings are hard to find. Her beauty and essence is also immortalized on Blood Orange’s album cover “Coastal Grooves,” which is a photo taken by Brian Lantelme in front of Sally’s Hideaway during the ‘90s. 

I watch those TV clips on YouTube over and over again when I want to remember her voice, her smile, her power.

* * *

Toronto, Canada. 2020.

A few months ago, I reconnected with Bianca’s child best friend Nancy. Nancy was 1 of 2 of Bianca’s childhood best friend. Bianca, Nancy and Kenny grew up together on the same block. They were three kids growing up in Elmhurst, NY--trans, lesbian and gay, respectively. I grew up spending time with them, I was always around queer people since I was taken home from Elmhurst Hospital. All of Bianca’s queer friends and trans women friends who she brought to the house helped shape me into the proud femme, queer trans nonbinary person I am today.

Nancy told me that Bianca had wanted to be a filmmaker: she wanted to make avant-garde films about being a madam and dominatrix in New York City. Bianca never got to make her avante-garde films, but she still graces the computer and phone screens of thousands of people today. I bet millions recognize her actually, from her gracing those daytime talk shows. 

Nancy also told me that Bo, that was her nickname for Bianca, introduced her and Kenny to the legendary ‘90s club scene where all the queers, Club Kids and VIP people were partying in NYC. Nancy said they would just walk right up to the bouncer and be let right inside, skipping the long line, never waiting. Bianca had that power. One look at her and you’d never forget her, and you sure as hell wouldn’t make her wait in a cue. 

Bianca also wanted to start a house and be a house mother. Nancy told me that Angie Xtravaganza had once asked her (Nancy) to be part of her house, the house of Xtravaganza. And without missing a beat, Bianca went right up behind Nancy and pinched her so hard and told her: “You better not join that house. You’re going to be in my house!” Bianca was such a Scorpio. She had so many dreams, and I have no doubt she would have achieved all of them had she had more time. I think the way she moved in life, the way she loved, her whole existence was a dream come true. 

Bianca lives in the public archive, she shines within the public’s memory--I am not the only one rewatching, replaying these videos on YouTube and social media. Bianca’s star never stopped burning. 

* * *

Ozone Park, Queens. 1992.

Bianca lived with us until I was in kindergarten. After, she moved to the Upper West Side and had a two-bedroom apartment with her boyfriend. She lived in “the city,” but before that she was my babysitter in Queens.

When I was six, I remember her picking me up from kindergarten and making me feel stylish and confident about my new red Converse sneakers—I was a shy child at school and people had called me Ronald McDonald for wearing my new red chucks. Bianca was a fashionista and even made her own clothes, so a compliment from her just meant more. I don’t remember exactly what she told me, probably something along the lines of “You look cute, María José. I like your shoes.” Her words made me pick my head up that day and walk prouder, my ponytail swinging as we walked home. What I would give to take a walk with her now, even a short eight block walk like we did that spring day home from PS64Q.

* * *

Harlem, Manhattan. 1996.

The last time I saw Bianca was at Lenox Hospital. Bianca looked so different then, not like how she had been picking me up from school or on TV. A brain tumor the size of an orange barely let her speak or move. I couldn’t speak either at her hospital bed for fear I’d cry like the child I was. I knew she was going to die. I didn’t know much about HIV/AIDS, and yet, I knew Bianca’s time left with us on earth was limited. After 25 years, I still think about her all the time. All these years, I feel like she’s been watching me, looking over me. She was always magical in life, why wouldn’t she be on The Other Side? 

Bianca’s funeral was the rainiest day I ever saw. It rained all day so hard. Her headstone says “Boris Maldonado, Beloved Son” and I have been thinking about what it means to transition after death. Everyone always talks about their ancestors, queer ancestors and transcestors and I am so grateful for mine, for Bianca.

* * *

Toronto, Canada. 2021.

Nancy said Bianca would love me and be proud of me. I hope Bianca knows, sees how much I miss her. How much she influenced me and how much her love shaped me.

We all miss Bianca. Everyone in my family misses her. Even those of us who didn’t understand her in life, who were scared to visit or touch her while visiting her in the hospital. We all miss her. We understood that she was magic. My cousin Georgie calles Bianca “the rockstar of our family” and he’s so very right. Bianca will forever be my family’s rock star. She was larger than life. My dad told me he envied Bianca because she was living her life loudly, the way she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

In countless ways, Bianca inspired me too. I am only beginning to realize that she was a muse to so many people. A spark, a pause, a smile, a bewildered look. How is she so happy and free and sexy and trans? She left a legacy not only in my family, but in the world, in 90s New York City history, in trans history. 

I wish I would have had more time with her, but she gave us all so much in her 30 years. It is my great honor to keep her memory and legacy burning bright for generations to come. Bianca’s 25th death anniversary is coming up this year (2021). Nancy called it her “annibitchiversary.” Bianca was a bit wild, a bit crazy, a lot of bit Scorpio, like I said. Bianca was Nancy’s “witchy pooh” because she had a witch’s cackle and her birthday was so close to Halloween. Bianca would have been 56 on October 29. She was born in Ecuador and rests in New York City.

I miss you every day, Bianca. I missed you when I was 10, I miss you this Scorpio season afternoon at 35. Thinking about you always makes me cry, happy and stinging tears. It never not hurts losing someone to AIDS. No matter how much time has passed. I’ll always remember you, celebrate you and try to do right by you. I will always keep you alive.

Happy Birthday, Bianca.