For several years, this McDonald's in the northwest of Washington was the main source of Diana Portillo torment.
This is where Portillo, a trans person, says he was cummed by his co -workers and chiefs who refused to use the name he chose. This is where it says it has been humiliated, after being scolded aloud by a manager for using the women's bathroom. And this is where he says that the various complaints he made alleging discrimination were ignored or discarded, until the day he was eventually failed.
But when Portillo peered into McDonald's 695, he was more in conflict than angry.
“This was the first job I had in Washington; it was the first job I liked,” Portillo, 44, told The Washington Post, through a translator. “But everything that came later, after my transition, caused many bad memories.”
Portillo brought an action for employment discrimination against the International Golden Foods, the company that manages restaurant number 695. In court proceedings, IGF denied Portillo's allegation that it had been harassed and discriminated in the restaurant, and argued that it had no other option to say goodbye because it had no documents at the time.
Following an eight -day trial last August, a jury issued a rare verdict under the DC Human Rights Law, concluding that Portillo was subject to a hostile work environment and then fired after a complaint. Almost one million dollars of compensation was assigned (received about 834 thousand euros). The IGF is using.
Now, Portillo, which originates from El Salvador, has a new job: he works for the LGBTQ+ clinic that helped her during his transition and his legal struggle. And he has a simple philosophy when it comes to helping other people who may be facing the same battles as her: “Fight your rights. And do not allow anyone to humiliate you.”
An escape and a new name
Having grown up as a man in El Salvador, Portillo has felt a girl since he remembered. Surrounded by sisters at home, Portillo was supported by the closest family members, who did not hesitate when she experienced the sisters' shoes and dresses.
But away from home, Portillo was a frequent target of harassment and abuse by the remaining family, classmates and even strangers. In witnessing in court, he recalled that one night, when he went on his way home, was ambushed by a man who pointed to his gun in his chin and demanded that he had oral sex; The man threatened to harm the portillo or his family if she told someone about the attack.
Shedrick Pelt/The Washington Post
“In El Salvador, things are very polarized; black in white – if you are a man, you have to look like a man,” gives up Portillo. “If you look like a woman but you are a man, this is not well regarded in the eyes of God. And they make us a bad bit.”
Fearing for life, Portillo fled in 2006 to the United States and arrived in Maryland, where some of his family members lived. Started working in restaurants fast-food and to have English classes in the library. And he soon found a community that welcomed her at the Del Pueblo Clinic.
Located in Columbia Heights, the Bilingual Community Health Center provides resources to Central America and other countries. Its Empodérate program, which focuses on LGBTQ+Latinos, helps about 500 people annually, providing services such as free medical examinations, interpreter connections and legal resources.
Suyanna Barker, director of programs at Del Pueblo Clinic, notes that it is particularly difficult for Latinos who also identify themselves as LGBTQ+ find a safe space.
“People used to tell us: 'When I'm among the LGBTQ community, I feel safe to be gay, but when I'm close to Latinos, I don't feel safe; however, when I'm with the LGBTQ community, I don't feel safe to be Latin,” says Barker. “There are levels of discrimination.”
At Empodérate, Portillo was received by a group of trans women who gave him advice on employment and health care. They encouraged her to move to DC and she regularly attended the clinic. When he met trans women who were doing hormone therapy, Portillo was intrigued. He asked them what the process was like, because he was interested in doing so too. “I was told that I would feel a little fragile,” he says.
When he began to think of his future as a woman, he also wished a new feminine name. He struggled to find him, until he remembered the beautiful princess who had captivated her as a child, first for her elegant sense of fashion and, later, for her humanitarian work: Princess Diana.
“She didn't mind taking a child who might have HIV; she helped many people with less resources,” Portillo recalls. “I'm thrilled to think about what her name represents.”
But out of Empodérate's hug, Portillo found a different reality.
When he started working at McDonald's in 2011, he presented himself as a man. He recalls that he was praised and promoted by his efforts, and his co -workers, mostly Latinos, knew Portillo only by their birth name, Gerardo.
Therefore, when Portillo assumed herself as a trans woman before her leadership in the summer of 2013, she predicted that she would take some time until her co -workers got used to her identity.
Shedrick Pelt/The Washington Post
But he says that his co-workers continued to call him Gerardo, even after his new name was deprived of his new name, Diana. And he noted that he had not yet received an updated badge, although he asked it. He wondered if his director truly supported her.
Portillo sought the help of Casa Ruby, a non -profit organization LGBTQ, now extinguished, in DC, founded and managed by a trans woman from El Salvador. Casa Ruby filed a complaint to the restaurant in the name of Portillo, describing the discrimination that he was targeted and urging employees to respect their name and their gender preferences.
But at a meeting held a few weeks later, a supervisor told Portillo that no one at the workplace was forced to treat her by Diana or recognize her gender identity, Portillo witnessed in court. Some of his co-workers were more encouraged after knowing that their complaints had not given anything, he said, continuing to call him Gerardo. He said he heard them jokes about their genitals. Remember to arrive at the Make-up restaurant and listen to colleagues exclaiming “the clown has arrived”.
In another case, Portillo says he was sent home earlier, after having corrected a manager who had repeatedly treated her by Gerardo. “You are a man. Your name is generating. I will not complicate my life with you. You go home,” replied the manager, according to Portillo's testimony.
“In the restaurant, I found the same situation I lived in El Salvador,” Portillo reported in the trial, according to the court's transcripts. As I cried in the witness bench, he added later, “I went to work every day to pray to God to help me finish the day.”
Although he said the restaurant company's operations director of the restaurant in 2015, giving him a new badge, updating his name in the computer system and allowing him to use a handkerchief that workers use, Portillo also said that their colleagues' discrimination intensified.
They said, “What matters that they have changed their name in the system and have given you a badge to say Diana when you continue to be the generado?” Portillo recalled in court. In an interview, he continued, “It was as if someone had thrown a stone to a hive and worsened everything.”
Keep in the fight
At the end of January 2016, the Del Pueblo Clinic helped Portillo submit a second written complaint, almost identical to the one he had presented two years earlier. About two weeks later, the restaurant tensions reached the peak when a client complained to a manager for Portillo used the women's bathroom. Instead of explaining why, Portillo says the manager scolded her in front of his clients – an incident that was captured on video and reproduced in court during the trial.
“You're a man. You can't use the women's bathroom. You're not a woman,” the manager told him aloud.
It was quickly farewell. Second account Portillo and says a letter of dismissal, used as evidence during the trial, The IGF will have justified the Portillo that the reason for the dismissal was to have admitted weeks earlier that it was not eligible to work in the United States. Portillo claims that IgF always knew that this was its case.
He was so depressed that he tried to commit suicide.
He started doing therapy, but found it too painful to relive his memories. Therefore, he resorted again to his friends at Empodérate, who encouraged her to continue to fight.
In August 2016, with the help of Whitman-Walker Health, a local health center that has long served the LGBTQ community of the zone, Portillo filed an external administrative complaint to the DC Human Rights Office against IGF. When the lawsuit stopped in 2020, he asked his complaint to be rejected so that he could file the case at the DC Higher Court, with the help of the Correia & Puth law firm in early 2021.
In addition to denying the allegations of harassment and discrimination portillo, the IGF argued that it could not confirm all the allegations of its 2016 complaint after investigating them – although admitted that managers and supervisors should be better prepared to include trans employees.
After the jury verdict in his favor, the restaurant owner unsuccessfully requested a new trial. In a statement, the IGF said he expects a more favorable result in the appeal court: “We are confident that the facts of this case will be revealed,” he said.
Portillo says that his experience at Restaurant 695 fed his desire to try to help others. He got asylum in March 2024 and a month later he accepted a new job at Empodérate, where he helps customers to test sexually transmitted infections and refer them to services such as immigration counseling.
More confident than ever, Portillo says he loves to explore new cities. And whenever you have the opportunity, I go out to dance with friends. It maintains a close contact with much of your family in El Salvador and is often gathered with her sister, nieces and nephews in Maryland.
Her family worried about her during the trial, with constant questions about when she would end. He was grateful to be able to tell them when he finally ended: Everyone said, “Oh, thank God!” Remember Portillo.
It expects to make a career at Empodérate, where it helps young LGBTQ+ sail in complicated processes such as health insurance and legal systems. It helps lead a support group that meets twice a week. And it has the opportunity to advise trans women who enter the clinic looking for support or a community.
Portillo pay special attention to newcomers – particularly those who refer to being harassed at school or at work. Remember that they have rights. And encourages them to continue to fight.
Exclusive Public/The Washington Post