ROSIE: These two are sneaky, they didn't tell me anything.

(audience laughter) Ah, and I love you both, very much.

Um, thank you so much to the Hispanic Heritage Foundation, and congratulations to all of my fellow honorees.

And um, to be amongst people like Cheech, I mean... I'm blown away.

The leaders that I know and admire have taught me that in order to lead, you have to know when to lead, when to follow, and when to get the hell out of the way.

And I've learned, and I'm still learning how to navigate each of those lanes.

But they also taught me something else: if you're going to step in front, never fall back.

Although I see myself as more of an activist, I am truly honored by this very prestigious award.

Everyone always asks me like all the time like, how, how did I became an activist?

You know, and people think it's because I'm such a natural fighter.

Which I am.

Don't get it twisted.

Or that I came from abject poverty and wanted to pay it forward.

Which I did and have been doing.

But I want to be honest, it came out of fear.

And I'm thankful for that fear.

It was the beginning of the AIDS crisis.

People were dying left and right, so were many of my friends.

The fear and stigma was real, it was very high, and I wanted to do something, but didn't know what to do.

And I felt helpless, and I felt frustrated, and I felt scared.

I joined a few marches, but that's about it.

After I began acting, I was asked to co-emcee Life Beats, the music industry response to AIDS, and it was difficult for them to get celebrities and, and artists because of the stigma.

Nobody wanted to be associated with AIDS.

But they knew I would say yes, and I did.

But to be honest, there was a tinge of fear inside me that I was ashamed of.

You see, it was the beginning of my career.

The event was inspiring.

I was on such a high, and then a dear friend of mine, he used to be my ex, and he was gay, but I didn't care.

But that's another story... (audience laughter and applause).

He was so fine, I really didn't care.

But anyway... different time, different time.

Well, not really.

Now they call it fluid, so whatever.

(audience laughing).

So... (audience cheering and applause).

That same night, I hadn't seen him in a while.

A couple of years, in fact.

He called me up.

"I saw you on the red carpet."

I said, "You did?

My hair was a mess, right?

I was sweating and got frizzy."

And as I was laughing, he quickly cut me off, and he said, "Rose," that's my real name, Rosa Marie "I've got it and I just wanted you to know.

Just make me one promise, always show up for the cause, and not for the cameras."

(audience cheering and applause).

My heart shook that night.

And that tinge of fear I was so ashamed of was gone.

Instantly.

I felt hurt, enraged.

I was pissed off.

And I was ready for a fight!

But that's how it all starts, right?

Let's be honest with ourselves.

With the old cliche that people don't really want to get involved until it happens to them.

With his words, "Show up for the cause, not the cameras" ringing in my head, my true activism began.

And I dove in, headfirst, hard.

And I learned I made so many mistakes.

Oh my God, you can't believe it.

I learned about activism as I watched the bravery of ACTUP and other organizations that pushed Ronald Reagan into finally saying the word AIDS.

I learned about activism when I volunteered at the GMHC, and this wonderful woman, Laurie Fabiano, taught me how to deal with the press and not to curse at the then Mayor.

Yes, I did, I cursed him out.

But I became an activist when I met activist and lawyer Dennis DeLeon.

(audience applause).

He is one of the co-founders of Cielo Latino Commission on HIV and AIDS.

He taught me that we did not have time to waste, and we did not have the privilege of fear.

He taught me how to maneuver on the inside, to get off the streets.

I've done the marching.

Now it's time for you to go in the doors and affect policy.

And he was the one who later put my name in the hat for the running, which I got picked for: Obama's Presidential Advisory Council on HIV and AIDS, where we created the first national AIDS strategy ever.

(audience cheering and applause).

I carried that spirit and knowledge when I entered the entertainment industry.

I was floored by the lack of opportunities and representation of our people in film, television, stage, and behind the scenes.

It was disgusting, and I knew that the red carpet was the perfect platform, and I seized it, I kicked that door down.

I saw that chair, I didn't wait for an invitation.

I pulled that chair out.

Sat down and pulled my ass up.

(audience cheering and applause).

I told them, "Why are you giving me this crap?

I want the Jessica Lange roles," and they go, "Well, you're not Jessica Lange."

I said, "Honey, not yet."

One of my reps told me to calm it down in fear of jeopardizing all that I had worked for.

And once again, I took pause.

I asked myself why?

Again, Rose.

Again, I was afraid.

I was afraid to take a stand in front of all of the very Hollywood power players.

Was I?

Yes, I was.

Afraid of the consequences of all of it going away.

Not the celebrity part.

I hate the hair and makeup.

Julissa, we gotta talk about the hair!

But the privilege to do what I love.

To continue acting.

But I was more afraid of the ostracism continuing, not just for myself, but for my Latino brothers and sisters in the game.

I saw too many of them give up, 'cause it just hurts that bad to be denied over and over and over.

But I remember Dennis DeLeon's words: "We do not have the time to waste, and we do not have the privilege to be fearful."

So, I pushed on, even with that fear looming over me.

My girlfriend Rhonda asked me early on in my career, "Why are you always charging up the hill all alone?"

I told her, "Oh honey, I am not alone.

I'm charging up that hill with Dennis Deleon and my friend, who both sadly lost their valiant battle against AIDS.

God rest their souls.

I'm charging up that hill with Dolores Huerta, who taught us, "¡Sí se puede!"

(audience cheering and applause).

Antonia Pantoja, the first Puerto Rican woman to receive the American Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1966.

For Roberto Clemente, an activist, who died delivering food and medicines to Nicaragua earthquake victims.

To Latin musician, actor, activist, my friend, Ruben Blades, who put his politics in his music.

My dear brother from another John Leguizamo who refuses to be silent.

Salma Hayek who stands up for women all over the world regardless of color, race, or creed.

Wilson Cruz, who follows with me on marches.

Eva Longoria, who uses all of her money, honey, yes!

And the badass that he is, Bad Bunny!

(audience cheering and applause).

My dear friend, writer and director, George C. Wolfe once told me on my opening night at the Public Theater as I was about to take the stage, just trembling in my boots, "Push through your fears, and step into your greatness.

It's right in front of you, but you have to take that first step."

Fear is a powerful thing.

It can be debilitating or motivational.

There is a lot going on right now, in entertainment, in business, in healthcare, in politics.

In these uncertain times, when the fear of cancellation, litigation, incarceration, deportation, it is understandably terrifying to even think about marching up a very treacherous hill.

Trust me, I know.

But I leave you with this.

There's no waiting for it to happen to you.

Because if it happens to one of us, it happens to all of us.

And it's happening right now.

(audience cheering and applause).

If you feel in your heart that there is a necessity for change for what is right and what is good, I ask you, try to dig deep and push through that fear and take that first step, even if it's a tiny one, 'cause every drop in the bucket counts.

And know that when you do, you will not be marching up that hill alone.

Thank you.

(audience cheering and applause).