Women Deliver, which champions gender equality and the health and rights of girls and women all over the world, just announced its newest class of 300 young advocates from 96 countries. Almost a third of this new class is made up of LGBTQIA+ individuals working on gender equality in their communities and countries.
Below, six of the advocates—from Zimbabwe, Colombia, Nigeria, the USA, and Australia—talk about their lives and activism. All of them are passionate, eloquent, and determined. Some are risking their safety and their lives to do what they believe in. Especially in Pride month, their bravery when standing up to extreme prejudice and bullies should inspire all LGBTQ people and their allies to fight on. Tim Teeman
Jordan Chanetsa, 23, Zimbabwe
I grew up in Harare, Zimbabwe, for the majority of my life but I finished my final years of high school in Johannesburg, South Africa. I am a woman of transgender experience. I define my sexuality as being pansexual because I am not attracted to any specific gender.
Growing up
My childhood was very weird because from as early as I remember it was always a problem that I was so feminine. At home, at school, around other children my age, the resounding question was always “Why do you act like a girl Jordan, can’t you just be normal?” So, from an early age it had already been registered into my mind that I wasn't what society would class as “normal” based on the gender binaries that exist and that have governed the state of our society for centuries.
As a result of constantly being reminded that something was “wrong” with me, I ended up becoming very closed off and protective of myself because I knew that rejection was always something I needed to be ready for because I was so different. I spent most of my childhood trying to learn how to be “normal” and to be able to fit in to avoid uncomfortable situations, which indirectly led me to being someone who studied the patterns and inconsistencies within our society.
I would say that my childhood was filled with a lot of traumatic experiences, a lot of embarrassment, a large amount of my time trying to find a place that I fit into, and also a lot of self-loathing for not being “normal” and the fact that it wasn’t something I could just change.
Have you experienced bullying and prejudice?
I have experienced a lot of prejudice and bullying throughout my life even in these present times. When I was much younger I would handle it very badly. I would get really sad and I would cry and wonder why things weren’t so great for me. I would compare myself to other people and try to understand what I had done to deserve my plight.
I eventually became very depressed and even suicidal the older that I got. I used to indulge in self-harm as an outlet for my pain. As I’ve gotten older it has become easier to deal with. It’s something that I know to expect. I will say that there are days when it can all become too overwhelming and I do need to have a good cry. But mainly I just share what I’m feeling with my closest friends.
I first came out as gay when I was about 14. I told my family, but there weren’t open arms to me coming out, it was more like something that added to the problems of me already not being “normal.” As time went on I started to realize that I wasn’t actually gay because the idea of defining myself as a man was something that never sat well with me and it was very apparent in the kind of partners that I would attract.
I later came out publicly as a trans woman through a Facebook post (there was a lot of pushback from people in my life as they felt entitled to knowing about it before seeing it on a Facebook post, which I largely disagreed with). My decision was my own, and I chose to be honest about who I am in order to let others know that it’s OK to be proud of your difference.
My family is very Christian and there was always homophobic rhetoric that I grew up around, so when I came out there was a lot of pushback, and many questions about why I was choosing to pursue this life regardless of everything I grew up knowing; why I was choosing to be rebellious and so on. It was always a problem. My dad is someone who believes that queerness or transness is something only the devil could facilitate, so it was always a situation of him trying to pray this “spirit” out of me. They are more respectful and tolerant now.
What are the laws and attitudes like towards LGBTQ people in Zimbabwe now?
The laws regarding LGBTQIA+ persons where I live have always been very anti. The rhetoric of Zimbabweans is very, very homophobic and transphobic due to the fact that out former president, Robert Gabriel Mugabe, was so strong on his anti LGBTQIA+ stance.
Mugabe once called homosexuality “unnatural,” and said that “there is no question of ever allowing these people to behave worse than dogs and pigs.”
The law states that two men are not to engage in sodomy and it is therefore a punishable offense. That is the only law that really speaks about the LGBTQIA+ community and our practices. Also, same sex marriage is not recognized in this country. This law has been the premise for many raids and violent acts enacted on our community.
There used to be a law that stated that if anyone suspects that a fellow citizen is engaging in homosexual activity then they have the right to follow through with a citizen’s arrest until the police arrive. Over time the tension and hate towards our community has lessened.
When our new president came into power he had a meeting with people who lead LGBTQIA+ organizations where he said that it is not his job to campaign for our community, but that it was in fact the job of our community to convince our fellow citizens to understand us. This gave a lot of hope to our community as it showed us that he was not outright in his anti-LGBTQIA+ stance like our previous president.
When did your activism begin?
My activism began when I first came out as gay and I could see that society had so many inconsistencies rooted in its system. It made me very angry that other humans felt like they had the right to play God and effectively feel as if they had the power to even end someone’s life on the basis that it is not “normal” to be from our community.
I saw how so many of the people I had called friends and family turned away from me just because they knew this new information about me. It was worse when I came out as a trans women and there was even more pushback. I used to get followed in town, I would receive death threats and people would threaten to beat me senselessly. I was refused jobs, I was refused entry into certain places just because of my identity.
This made me extremely outraged because I felt like I was now finally living my truth and society wasn’t happy about it. When I was younger I spent a lot of my life trying to hide who I was to fit in and that wasn't enough—and so it felt like you actually never win with society if you are someone born outside of the scope of “normality.”
I began to want to fight for my place within this society, which led me to also consider people who may not have all the privilege that I have and are in far worse circumstances than myself, which is where my activism journey began.
Are attitudes to gender and sexuality changing?
The attitude surrounding gender equality, gender identity, and sexual orientation have evolved only by a small amount. My country is built on a very patriarchal system that gratifies heterosexual men and it is still very much like that. There hasn’t been much change because we only have few women in high positions of power and even these women perpetuate misogyny and the patriarchy.
There is an attitude that women should know their place in the society and that place has always been to serve the man. In terms of gender identity it is very complex because in some of our cultural history, the idea of someone transcending the rigid gender norms was considered to be a spiritual thing and trans people were treated with great reverence and respect, but over time there has been some confusion.
The patriarchy is not very understanding of the idea that a “man” would be willing to disrespect the idea of what it means to be a man by choosing to live as a woman. In the same breath they will not respect trans women because they cannot be consumed by men in the same way that cis-women are consumed by men.
On the flip side they cannot respect a “woman” who is choosing to live as a man because in their minds a woman could never possess the innate power that a man does—therefore they could never be a man. In the same breath they see it as the “woman” rebelling against the patriarchy, assuming that this person wants to make a rebellious statement because no man wants to consume her or partake of her body sexually.
In terms of sexual orientation, the belief stands strong here that people believe that men belong with women and that is the only sexual orientation that will be acknowledged.
What does your work focus on?
I am an activist for LGBTQIA+ rights mainly focusing on trans rights. My work involves me helping to mobilize people within my community and then helping to provide them with access to free sexual health services.
My work also includes helping to create safe spaces for people within my community to be able to commune with people who are also different, but also people that they can relate to because of their difference.
A large part of my work involves activism through the media. In our country it is important for people to be able to see that people like myself exist on major platforms, so I spend a lot of my time finding places to speak about issues relating to our community, by sharing stories from our community—but mainly by sharing my own experiences in an attempt to shed light on the humanity that our community possesses.
I work for a trans organization, I am also part of a collective of queer people who work to create safe spaces and events for LGBTQIA+ persons in a country where this is so much fear and tension surrounding this topic.
What are you most proud of achieving?
What has made me most proud in my work is to see how the courage within our community has evolved just in the space that I have been doing what I am doing. When a younger person within our community contacts me to tell me that they admire everything that I am doing, and that they gained the courage to be more honest with themselves because of me, it warms my heart to the core, and lets me know that what I am doing is very important for the future generations of our nation.
What advice would you give to younger activists?
Trust your instincts. It is very important to know what it is that you’re fighting for and establishing a plan on how you think you can achieve it. I would say that it is important to not be intimidated by this field just because of your age. Age is only a number which does not define your capabilities, or your capacity to enact change.
I would say that it’s very important to always be researching and reading up on information that has to do with the cause that you are fighting for, it is important to always stay well informed. Also, never stop asking questions when you do not know the answers. When you ask a question, be willing to do the work to receive answers from more than one source in order to be able to form your own evaluation.
Matthew Blaise, 21, Lagos, Nigeria
Growing up
I’m gay. My childhood was far from great. Whenever I remember the love I was denied as a child because of my femininity and perceived sexual orientation, I burst into tears profusely because I know I am undeserving of that treatment. I was born into a family of nine in the outskirts of Lagos. I never understood what privacy felt like because we lived in a tiny room apartment with 5 other tenants sharing a bad toilet facility.
Due to the poverty level, I was denied of standard primary education, good housing, good food, and a healthy environment. Many young people died in violence on the streets. I also got to see many heartbreaking events like robbery, rape, killings, and police brutality which I had no power to stop.
After I realized my sexuality, I concluded I wanted to become a priest, and my mother fully supported me because she thought it was from a good place. She did not know that I wanted to go into the priesthood to shield my homosexual tendencies. I thought that not getting married would automatically extinguish my sexuality, which was evidence of my internalized homophobia.
After some guys in my street discovered I was gay I became their prey. They threatened to out me to my parents if I didn’t do what they wanted. I constantly lived in fear, and this didn’t even allow me to enjoy the remains of childhood.
What has been your experience of prejudice?
Being a nation divided along religious lines, the northern part of Nigeria practices Sharia Law and follows a penal code different from the southern, Christian portion of the nation. Both regions, deeply religious and homophobic, battle fiercely for the right to kill, maim, or incarcerate gay people for a good portion of our lives. Since the passing of the anti-gay law (the Same Sex Marriage Prohibition Act, SSMPA, in 2014), public hostility has skyrocketed.
The law no longer protects us from even the regular ills of society. A gay person is vulnerable because the law would rather beat down on them with the gavel than perform justice. So every day we are exploited, harassed, abused, sexually, even raped because we have no one to turn to. Both the physical and virtual spaces are unsafe, even down to dating apps like Grindr, Hornet, Romeo, and Tinder.
The police, whose duty is to protect citizens, exploit “suspected” LGBTQI people after unlawful search and invasion of their phones and private spaces. They are not the only culprits; homophobes also disguise themselves as LGBTQI persons to harass, rob, and assault us.
It’s a tad worse for one such as I, who is effeminate and visibly gay. Many times, I have been beaten by fellow undergraduates in the university, by hoodlums on the street, cursed out, spat at, even stoned. Sharia law stipulates death by stoning for those who are gay. Though Sharia Law is only practiced in the North of Nigeria, it would seem even southerners have a predilection for stoning gay people.
I fell prey to a lot of these in my first year as an undergraduate, though it wasn’t just in school. No place was too sacrosanct for abuse, not even the hallowed “house of God.”
The assistant priest in my church after seeing my LGBTQ advocacy posts on Facebook invited me over to his office where he assaulted me physically, punching me repeatedly and strangling me until I almost met my maker. I’m pretty sure that’s not how the scriptures stipulated we be taken to God. He did not stop there, he emotionally blackmailed me and I suffered psychologically for months.
Also, a visiting priest invited me to his office for “deliverance.” He used various objects on me which “delivered” a lot of pain to me and proceeded to try to misinform me about my sexuality. Months ago on Facebook, I shared a story about how a senior lecturer summoned me into his office and said hurtful words to me in a bid to subdue “the gay.” He said “the kingdom of God and the kingdom of darkness were having a battle” over me, and it was evident “that the kingdom of darkness was winning.”
Lots of lecturers have used my physique and sexual orientation to make silly, homophobic jokes in class. Virtual persecution is a part of my daily life because of the advocacy I do. Many Nigerians have threatened to report me to the police and make me suffer the 14-year jail term for daring to be gay, exist, and have a voice. Most of them have threatened to assault and even kill me.
In October 2019, I was arrested and assaulted by policemen. They arrested me because they saw a tattoo on my palm which read “gay and proud.” The policeman asked to see my phone, and I told him that doing so without a warrant would be a violation of my rights. The policeman hit me hard, pushed me into their bus and muttered, “There is nothing like human rights in Nigeria.”
I continue to maintain a loud social media presence—on Facebook and even Twitter where I have even trended several times and sparked national discussions on LGBTQ rights. Local blogs even pilfer from the experiences I post on my social media to boost their website traffic as they know the nation is eager to lap up the nuggets of my life I put out there.
How did you come out, if you are out?
I didn’t actually write to any newspaper agency or officially come out to my family on the dinner table, I never enjoyed that luxury. But as an effeminate gay person in Nigeria I was dragged out of my closet by femme-phobic and homophobic people. They would always call me “woman wrapper,” “Nwoke Nwanyi” (boy girl), “woman man” and other condescending tags for femme men, which always left me deeply wounded.
They would call me “gay” even when they know the social implication of that and laughed when I burst out in tears. Internalized homophobia really puts you in a tight corner. This happened for a while until I accepted the truth which I have denied for so long. Whenever they call me gay now, “I simply say ‘Yes, I am gay and so what?’”
This often left them shocked or physically abusive to me. However, whenever I own that word, I feel so powerful. I feel like I have uprooted the shame deeply buried in me and transformed it to something very usual, just like my name.
How has your family been about it?
When my brother started seeing pictures of me with polished nails, anklets, and waist beads on WhatsApp, he was very, very uncomfortable. I could remember he called me one day to express his disgust and threatened to beat it out of me, which freaked me out. I blocked him on WhatsApp immediately.
Unbeknown to me, he had told my mother that I was turning totally insane. My mother, who was a very religious woman, would always get mad at me. She said so many hurtful words that made the house become very uncomfortable, so I had to leave for somewhere else. I totally embraced my queer identity after a year away from them. Even when I trended on a national newspaper’s website, I didn’t mind what my family would say.
It was just earlier this year that they all began accepting this reality. However, I never cared about their acceptance. I know there is a form of strength that comes with knowing your family supports you, but I have also come to realize that if they don’t support me, I can always get this same source of strength from somewhere else; from myself, from my chosen family.
I might have memories of growing up, but no amount of these can surpass being happy and true to yourself. As clichéd as that sounds, it has always been my guide.
Describe the law and attitudes where you live generally to LGBTQ people? Have you seen them evolve?
Nigeria is a predominately homophobic country. Before the passage of any laws, gay people have always been beaten, killed, stripped naked, and dragged on the streets. Nigerian law describes sex between people of the same sex as “beyond the order of nature,” and punishes with imprisonment any one caught in the act.
The various states in Nigeria have passed laws in their various states which enables discriminatory and violent behaviors towards LGBTQIA+ persons. When countries like America legalized marriage equality, the National Assembly of Nigeria started to initiate conversations banning same sex marriage in Nigeria. Notable activists talked about what an unconstitutional law like that could do to LGBTQIA+ persons, and how it is basically unnecessary because homosexuality is a natural thing.
Unfortunately the SSMPA was passed by President Goodluck Jonathan in 2014 and it is worth noting that the law would have been passed with or without him. The constitution of Nigeria (Section 58) states that where a president refuses to give his assent it shall go back to the National Assembly and on the agreement of a two thirds majority of each house, the bill shall be passed.
Therefore, due to the homophobic and hypocritical nature of our leaders the law would have been passed regardless. The attitude of the government and people towards LGBTQIA persons has been appalling, disappointing, discriminatory and inhumane.
According to the 2018 Human Rights Violations Report by The Initiative For Equal Rights (TIERs), “The direct breach of individual rights without proper restitution often leaves a negative impact on people. In a society where acceptance and tolerance is difficult, it is increasingly hard for LGBTQIA+ people who have been wronged to access justice.”
How did your activism begin?
Activism for me began when I realized there were no active young LGBTQIA+ voices in Nigeria. The activists I knew were either older or young people who had fled the country for their lives. Only a few remained. I thought it was important to lend my voice to the national conversation and help create awareness about homosexuality while using my lived experiences to inspire young LGBTQIA+ persons who have been poisoned by homophobia.
Are attitudes changing at all?
According to statistics gathered by NOIPOLL for TIERs, there is a growing acceptance of queerness in Nigeria. The 2017 survey found a 7 percent increase in social acceptance rate, rounding up to 39 percent of those surveyed who think gay people have the right to equal access of public services like health care, housing and education.
Although, there hasn’t been another recent poll, the acceptance rate seems to have dramatically increased, which one can deduce from online and offline conversations. The responses of people towards LGBTQIA+ issues has been encouraging, and I believe this is because of the work of organizations and individuals towards accelerating social acceptance in Nigeria through conversations on social media, offline spaces, in the Arts and other open spaces.
Tell me about attitudes towards trans people there
The attitude of Nigerians towards trans people is still very appalling, for those that even know they exist. According to one trans man I know in Nigeria, “I’ve lost count of how often I heard people say I never knew we had trans men/trans people in Nigeria.”
In a socially regressive country like Nigeria, trans laws are non-existent. If it were up to the laws, trans people would not exist. Awareness is just starting to go mainstream in Nigeria, thanks to social media. But most trans people in Nigeria still live in the shadows, in quietness, in isolation, seeking safety. So they’re not very vocal, not yet—apart from a few.
Tell me about your work now: what do you do?
I am a currently a student and I am involved in a lot of digital advocacy. I have taken a stand against every form of homophobia, transphobia, and inequality. Recently I followed a group of women to stand against rape in Nigeria. This is what I have done with the little resources and energy that I have as an underprivileged Nigerian. It isn’t a lot, but it is the start to what I hope to be a pathway into LGBTQIA+ advocacy.
What has made you most proud in your work?
I was part of the team that launched the #EndhomophobiaInNigeria campaign in Nigeria, which A Nasty Boy (a Nigerian LGBTQ magazine) described as “The start of a cultural revolution.”
The campaign was an avenue for gay people to express the hurt of homophobia, while advocating for a better place for gay people through social media. This campaign lasted for two days, and since then I have granted international and national interviews to discuss this campaign, and I’ve also been in panel discussions for this same purpose.
What would you like to do in the future?
I would like to be the source of inspiration and strength for young LGBTQIA+ Nigerians. I hope to do this through film-making and by just living as an unapologetic openly gay person in Nigeria.
What is your advice for other young people wanting to get active in this field?
Be you. Know you are not the problem, don’t adjust for the world. Let it adjust for you, as clichéd as that sounds. It has been a very powerful guide for me facing everyday homophobia and femme-phobia in Nigeria.
Marlon Márquez Guardo, 20, Cartagena, Colombia
I was born in Cartagena, Colombia, and lived my whole life here. I have been gay since I have the use of reason, haha.
Growing up
When I was in the sixth grade, I was bullied for behaving differently from the other men in the room, because I didn’t like practicing the sports they played, I didn’t like listening to the music they were listening to, I didn’t like being the way they were. This generated many conflicts with me. I refused the opportunity to converse with me. They convinced me to be with me was a reason for repudiation. Reject me, abandon me.
Accepting myself was one of the most difficult processes of my life. Homophobia learned and reproduced is one of the most recurring social problems in reality for many people in the world. Learning to accept myself has been my most important achievement. Learning to deconstruct such normalized ideals helped me understand that we can all love in different ways, that for love there are no gender barriers, sex or lies that stop it.
I understood that patriarchy has done so much damage in our society to the point of causing us to fear being ourselves. I hope that more people like me will succeed in breaking down the barriers of structural and institutional hatred, and the racist, sexist, gender, economic, geographical components that impose themselves upon us and prevent us from being free.
How was coming out for you?
My coming out of the closet was the most beautiful and liberating thing that has happened to me. It was Dec. 24, 2017. My family took it well enough, they accepted and love me as I am. I am always grateful for that. Nowadays I help my family to understand more the diversity that characterizes us as a society.
I remember that one day I publicly commented on how it was to come out of the closet for me. A girl wrote me a message on social media, saying, “Thank you for daring to say it, it helped me understand myself.” From that day on I understood that I am doing something right, that I am inspiring people.
That day I felt that I did something good for someone, and for that reason I wake up every day thinking that my actions inspire change, and I consider that if we all take that change we can build a better society where we are not afraid to be ourselves, where we are not afraid of change.
How are the law and attitudes generally in Colombia?
I think that Colombia still has a long way to go in terms of society, although we have made great legal advances such as being able to adopt and equal marriage. The latest report released by one of Colombia’s LGBT + organizations, Caribe Afirmativo, says that more than 204 people have been killed in hate crimes, and that is not right. The government must provide more guarantees and recognize that we as an LGBTI+ community also exist and resist.
How did your activism begin?
I think my activism started when I still didn't know that that word existed. I think it was when I was 7 or 8 years old when we used to play between neighbors on my street. However, we always had the same problem that a neighbor did not like us to play in front of his house, so I told my friends to play in front of his house, because the street is public. I think it all started there.
What motivates your work?
I think the world still has an inequality gap that needs to close. and you must do it now, not tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow. Today.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has a short phrase that I love, “The single story creates stereotypes…” I consider that these stereotypes are so intrinsic in our culture, in our society, that it makes it necessary to rethink our humanity, to rethink our mental models and our institutions. The world as we know it has been built from a patriarchal and heterosexual vision, so that women and we diverse people never participate in what we know today as society.
So, if we want to close those gaps we must subscribe to new canonical ideas. We must subscribe to a feminism that aims to break down stereotypes of sex, gender, race, et cetera.
What are you most proud of?
“Deliberar” is a platform I created for social initiatives that aims to build the social fabric in diverse ways, where all people can build a better future.
We are currently working on two projects that we hope and can be financed. The first is a platform that maps and geo-references violent acts to LGBTI+ people here in Colombia, and based on that, is able to generate statistics that impact the people who make policies. Today, Friday, I will have an interview with one of the Colombian congresswomen who leads bills for our LGBTQ+ community.
The second project we are working on is the construction of community libraries in war-affected areas of armed conflict.
What is your advice to younger activists?
My advice to all people is perseverance. I have this quote that I say a lot: “When we break the barriers of hatred and inequality that have been built in society, we will understand that we can all have the freedom to love and respect those around us. We can settle our differences through dialogue and resolve our problems through action.”
What would you like to do in the future?
I think one of my biggest dreams would be that Deliberar is positioned worldwide as an organization that is capable of solving problems of social and economic inequality. And I would also dare to say that I would like to be a congressman from my country. There are many things in Colombia to do, but this is already a very distant dream. Before that I want to do some Master’s degrees.
Elise Stephenson, 28, Brisbane, Australia
How do you define on the LGBTQ spectrum?
Gay woman, or queer woman.
Tell me about your childhood
Growing up, I lived on a large acreage on the edge of the Australian bush, and was very lucky to roam widely and freely. I was very outdoorsy and was always involved in some kind of hands-on project.
Have you experienced bullying and prejudice? If so, how did you handle it?
While I have been fairly lucky, homophobic bullying and prejudice always cuts straight to a person’s core and to me is a reminder that no matter the progress made, hate and misunderstanding is still a large part of people’s experiences under the surface.
As I spend a lot of my working life on the road (I have driven over 65,000kms over the past four years—a distance one and a half times around the circumference of the Earth) working within regional and remote Australia, I am always careful of my safety in small communities, as bullying and prejudice is the foundation stone to further acts of homophobia—and often violence. Often in these situations, handling prejudice means minimizing who I am. Generally in society however, I try to educate and raise awareness when confronted with homophobia.
How did you come out, if you are out?
In some ways, I didn’t come out, I just became more of who I really was.
How was your family?
Very supportive.
How are the law and attitudes where you live generally? Have you seen them evolve?
Wider social attitudes have undergone remarkable change in Australia in the last few years, particularly since same sex marriage was legalized in Australia. Even 10 years ago, schools, the wider community, and politics were very vitriolic about LGBTI+ rights or lives—sometimes to devastating effect, with mental health issues and suicide a large part of many LGBTI+ peoples’ experiences.
10 years later, I am sought out by schools to talk about LGBTI+ issues and lives, and it has become something that people are trying to educate themselves on, and find ways of moving forwards as a community. I think the progress made—although not guaranteed—has been very important, and opens up opportunities to further bring marginalized LGBTI+ people’s issues and rights to the surface, including for trans people and for marginalized ethnicities and religions who may be part of the LGBTI+ community.
Tell me about how your activism began
It was a week after a violent incident of domestic violence had been committed against a trans woman in my home city, involving her violent murder by her partner, that I sat in a workshop on gender-based violence prevention.
It had come to the attention of some of the participants that I identified as a queer/gay woman. One of the women opposite me in the room turned to me and in front of everyone, said: “I fundamentally disagree with who you are.”
When I retold this story later to some audiences, they laughed. But for me, the incident reminded me that even the spaces dedicated to improving the lives of women are still spaces affected by homophobia, racism, and erasure of the identity of people who do not fit the norm.
To deny someone’s identity is disrespectful, and can have deeply-felt impacts on individuals and communities. In this case, I was lucky to have a supportive group around me. Allyship and people being willing to side with you, and stand up for you, is very important in combating hate or discrimination.
How do you feel about how attitudes around gender equality and sexual orientation have evolved where you live?
Gender inequality, as well as LGBTI+ inequalities, are still incredibly important issues to resolve in Australia. Most people recognize that inequalities continue, and require hard work, learning and unlearning to combat. Yet, I do find it troubling when some sectors of Australia deny inequalities and assert that we have already achieved gender and sexual orientation equality—the research demonstrates that this is simply not true.
Tell me about your work now: what is it, what do you do?
I am a researcher and entrepreneur, and have just completed Australia’s largest ever study on gender and sexuality in international diplomacy and national security for my PhD. I am also the co-founder and director of Social Good Outpost, an Australian strategic communications agency that helps purpose-led organizations to achieve social impact.
Through my business and research I work across the Indo-Pacific region particularly on topics of gender equality, entrepreneurship, national security, diplomacy, and the gendered or human rights implications of things like climate change, space exploration, and disaster recovery. I work to embed gender equality and an intersectional awareness of social issues into the way that countries negotiate and make decisions globally on emerging issues.
This reporter is a longtime Neighbours fan, and the long-running soap opera has gay characters, and now a trans character. How important has the Australian media been in social change?
I have met the wonderful Georgie Stone (who plays trans teen Mackenzie in Neighbours) and, who is a fearless and strong actress and transgender rights activist. I’m very proud that we have such a wonderful young person on TV.
I have to say, the show Kath & Kim in the 2000s was absolutely pioneering the normalization of LGBTI+ in what at the time was a very conservative society, and having just re-watched the series, I am really proud that some of our leading actors and comedians have always been supportive and in many ways led the rest of the country into the light.
Almost everywhere I look now, from more conservative TV shows to more popular shows, I really feel that people are trying their best to be more representative. It’s quite amazing just how quick this change has occurred, but it makes a world of difference, particularly for young LGBTI+ people, and particularly for those from rural Australia, given that Australia can be quite isolated and those in rural areas experience substantially increased rates of mental illness.
How is trans equality in Australia?
While I am by no means an expert, nor am I trans, trans people have faced and continue to face deep transphobia and discrimination in wider society, with many legal and social challenges remaining. However, gender diversity has always been part of Australia's history, from the yimpininni of the indigenous Tiwi people of Australia's Northern Territory, to the leaders we are seeing across Australian TV, government, and civil community.
Many great community-led initiatives, such as one I’ve been involved with that seeks to provide LGBTI+ inclusive training for medical students and professionals—Wavelength Medical Education—are pioneering wider social and legal change. Recognition of gender identity, inclusive medical support, workplace support and the championing of trans people, and wider social support and destigmatization remain issues that Australia needs to confront.
What has made you most proud in your work?
From gathering world leaders in Hong Kong in 2018 to talk about how climate change might affect trans women in the Pacific Islands, to discussing how the Myanmar civil conflict might affect indigenous queer human rights defenders in Thailand, or how bushfires might affect rural LGBTI+ communities in Australia, I’m most proud of bringing a different lens to important activism in our region.
What would you like to do in the future?
I’d love to be at the forefront of embedding gender equality in human operations and endeavors on space, or other emerging frontiers of international relations. I’m passionate about combining research and entrepreneurship to elevate gender equality.
What is your advice for other young people wanting to get active in this field?
If you don’t step up and make the kind of change you wish to see, chances are that someone else won’t. If it is important to you, find a way to do it, even if you start really small. Your momentum will build and you will gather supporters.
Thierry Hart (pseudonym), 27, Bulawayo, Zimbabwe
Growing up
I’m gay. My childhood was relatively complicated by issues of being an effeminate boy, within a disapproving society. Feeling very different but yet unable to relate to anyone often left me feeling alone and undesirable, as if there was something innately wrong with me. In a way I felt like an abomination, like I was weak for allowing these ungodly emotions to take a hold of me. This caused me a great deal of self-doubt and gradually low self esteem right into my teens.
I was unable to socialize for fear of being judged and even compliments sounded like insults at times. For example, one person called me pretty, but this was not a good thing because only girls and women are to be called pretty.
I was unable to see the beauty in myself or determine my self worth, let alone determine what my future would be… I just could never visualize it. I was more of a recluse and had my select group of friends. I was more academically driven but largely I felt unfulfilled and abnormal. My country Zimbabwe is anything but welcoming to the queer community, especially the queer male.
Have you experienced bullying and prejudice? If so, how did you handle it?
I have often been bullied because of my soft nature and outlook on life. In my community a man is supposed to make his presence felt and demonstrate his manliness—all of which I was unable to express—as well as chase after girls and carry out feelings I was unable to reciprocate.
This often led to me being a target of bullying through name-calling, taunting, and in many instances unjustified punishments and physical assaults even from juniors, who felt they could challenge me because I was too effeminate. I was generally a non-violent, non-malevolent person and this made me cannon fodder for my tormentors.
This led me to question why it was the worst thing we can see in a man was traces of femininity. Is it so disgusting for a man to display any traits of considered feminine? I did not cope well initially and I began to lose weight and spend many a waking moment distracted and offended. As I grew older and I met many like me, I began to gain more confidence and realize my own survival instincts.
I discovered I was not alone and in a way self-therapy and my academic achievements became a crutch for me. I was able to excel and in essence prove my abusers wrong.
How did you come out, if you are out?
I am out to select family members and friends, as unfortunately my circumstances do not allow much. I am not yet financially stable and unfortunately I have an abusive father, who will most certainly blame my poor mother for raising me queer—something she would have inadvertently done seeing as she is absolutely against homosexuality in a large part thanks to culture and religion.
To the few friends I have told I was welcomed, and to some it just made sense. I am gradually working on releasing the information, but only to parties I deem to be accepting and non-hostile. Many in my family are still yet to know, owing to the reasons above and rampant homophobia.
How are the law and attitudes where you live generally? Have you seen them evolve?
There have been minor advances in the law, from serious persecution and great risk of imprisonment to a more clear interpretation and attempts by Civil Society Organizations (CSOs) to gain justice and redress for many in the community who may be victims of attacks.
These organizations, like the Sexual Rights Centre (SRC), have employed a team of paralegals to assist with issues pertaining to abuse members of our community suffers, and have also engaged policy makers and the Senate about perhaps altering the laws to become more inclusive of LGBT rights.
At the moment we are enforcing the need for health-care staff to deliver services without prejudice. Currently as the law stands it is not illegal to be gay in Zimbabwe but only illegal to commit gay or immoral acts. Currently the change I have observed is minimal, while the Government of Zimbabwe has given LGBT CSOs the room to advocate for themselves, they have also managed to advise the police to also stand down in their persecution of us. It now varies according to the personal attitudes one may encounter.
How did your activism begin?
I had a health scare. I had just returned to Zimbabwe after completing my undergraduate studies in South Africa, our more accepting neighboring country. (This was essential, I gained more confidence and learned to be more accepting of myself and eventually gained confidence to come out to myself.)
I found out my boyfriend had been unfaithful and I was experiencing STI-like symptoms, but didn’t know where to go. Previously, doctors had been obligated to report cases of suspected sodomy so I was stranded and unsure of where to go to seek health care and assistance. I was introduced to the SRC and after meeting many like me, I was inspired. I was not alone, but more importantly I was able to observe my privileges.
I have a health degree, and many of my colleagues due to poverty and underlying undiagnosed mental health issues are often forced to leave school and cannot work towards tertiary education. This leads to many a restless LGBT who indulges heavily in activities which in the long run are detrimental to our health such as heavy drinking, multiple partners, and so on. Sex work is a norm, as well as abuse.
We are already at risk as gay men and women, and then that risk is heightened by our inability to access health services and fear of persecution. This is how I was inspired to put aside my career and educational pursuits and use my privilege and my degree to assist and educate my community. It pains me when I look and I realize there is not much many can do for themselves, and this places us greatly at risk for HIV/AIDS and mental illnesses. That is why I began to volunteer and carry out my activism.
How do you feel about how attitudes around gender equality and sexual orientation have evolved where you live?
Gradually they are evolving. The SRC together with other CSOs and Population Services International have been running programs to improve health-care access, demand justice, and enroll programs that protect against HIV and AIDS as well as mental health. We are slowly (frustratingly so) but surely asking for a seat at the table. We are moving towards acceptance and at the very least acknowledgement and inclusion.
Former President Mugabe created a system that we continue to suffer from today. His system was a deeply corrupted sense of higher morality that justified abuse on LGBT by declaring it a Western import and is very famous for hiding behind religion, albeit a very perverted sense of it.
Many were abused, LGBT people turned on their own in order for survival, and the death rates from HIV where overwhelming. He publicly dehumanized LGBT people as worse than pigs and dogs. This has led to people justifying their homophobia, refusing to serve us, and even preaching and conversion therapy attempts. It truly is sickening the amount of bigotry his actions gave birth to.
Zimbabwe is gradually moving forwards, but every now and then we have incidences that also take us several steps back and isolated cases of LGBTQ community abuse which, as you can imagine, leave my community with many a mental health issue. Recent cases include a particular tabloid-like group that has been pushing anti-gay propaganda and publishing false stories that point out nothing but sexual immorality, while demonizing us.
Other isolated events have included the abuse and assault of trans members of the community. One was even forced to leave her community. LGBT people have survived by forming their own communities and supporting one another, and largely from support from the Civil Society Organizations. They offer safe spaces, provide counseling, and the SRC, for example, has on more than one occasion offered to even pay for the health needs and emergencies of various members of the community and even financial support.
How are transgender people faring in Zimbabwe?
They are in my opinion the bravest and sadly most abused. They are most prone to HIV infections, abuse at the hands of their lovers, and rarely do they get justice.
Even within our own LGBT community they are looked down upon and judged. Many see them as mentally ill and their dealings with law enforcement, health-care staff, and the general population have been traumatizing—from the outright refusal of their rights to sexual abuse and corrective rapes. One of my colleagues, a trans woman, has been missing for the last three months.
Their community is highly prone to sex work, having very little in terms of job and school prospects which I assume must be areas of torment for them with dress code legislatures proving to be very restrictive. Many have been ostracized from church and even bars; they are heavily demonized, but still, they are resilient. On the bright side, they have managed to establish a few organizations of their own, which stand alone and support them, providing safe spaces and psychosocial support, and catering to and for some financial needs.
A bright light is the case of Ricky Nathanson, a trans woman and advocate who was arrested for making use of a female toilet. She successfully sued the Government/police and was awarded damages for her trauma on the basis of the Constitution not setting clear parameters of use of the toilet. She played a huge role in the development of the SRC, and currently resides and works in the U.S.
Tell me about your job
I work as a Key Populations Differentiated Services Delivery Assistant. Key populations (KPs) include gay and bisexual men (men having sex with other men; MSM), sex workers (SWs) and Adolescent Girls and Young Women (AGYWs). My roles are to serve these communities in working towards achieving the 90:90:90 goals in HIV treatment and management. It includes managing the dissemination of information, recruiting KPs to enroll and make use of programs, either by encouraging prophylactic use (condoms, birth control and PrEP) or treatment (medical, and antiretroviral therapy). This is to minimize the spread of HIV.
One of my other roles is to provide adherence counseling and conditioning, and helping develop events tailor-made to suit the needs of the KPs.
What has made you most proud in your work?
Being selected to address the legislators on LGBT rights, working with SWs to discuss health, and facilitating around different sexual and reproductive health and rights topics, and drug and substance abuse.
What would you like to do in the future?
I would like to revolutionize my country’s health-care system; to make it more comprehensive and inclusive. We lack detailed sex education, and preventative measures. Sex and female sexuality has a heavy taboo placed on it, leaving our girls (and gays) extremely vulnerable, exposed and confined to particular boxes. I would like to protect them more.
Sexual minorities should not encounter barriers when it comes to accessing much-needed health-care services. I would like to put women and LGBT people in better places and advance our movements for seats at the table and negotiate for better health care and rights.
What is your advice for other young people wanting to get active in this field?
Forge your own path, diligently and emphatically but with patience. There is more than one right answer and even quiet, faceless activism is still activism… Just like Wonder Woman.
Leo Cranney, 26, San Francisco, U.S.
Growing up
I’m queer, and of trans experience. I grew up in a few small towns in southern Idaho. My parents divorced when I was 3, and my father got custody. He remarried when I was around 5. He and my stepmom are very strictly Mormon. Most of southern Idaho is Mormon, it was all I knew for a really long time.
I was a believer for a while until I got older and realized it didn’t feel good. I didn’t agree with most people on anything. I remember having to take a test at high school designed to see who was conservative and who was liberal. I was the only liberal in the class. I told my family and they were like, “Oh no.” I remember being told when I was younger that gay people were bad and going to hell.
Today, the Mormon Church may have gotten a little better (around LGBTQ issues), but like all large institutions this has happened because people demanded change, they were forced to change—rather than thinking it was the right thing to do.
Tell me about coming out
I didn’t know I was queer until I was 19. Looking back I should have known. There were lots of signs and feelings, but I was told as a child that only bad people were queer. I thought, “I’m not a bad person so I can’t be queer.” I didn’t know for a long time.
I was in college when I came out, and waited to come to California before I told my parents over the phone. I am not in touch with any high school friends. Once I came out, many of them unfriended me on Facebook. I have not spoken to anyone from high school in years, and I am not interested in any of their beliefs either.
I came out as trans a little over a year ago. My family didn’t disown me. It has been odd to me that people celebrate that fact—it is weird to me that that is the bar. I can say that my family kind of tries. Some of them try harder than others.
I am not very close to them, so can only watch their reactions from a distance. I am coming to peace with that, but it’s hard, especially after growing up in a religion where family is very important. We are told to love our families no matter what. But it’s hard to see people say, “I love you,” but then not take the time to get to know you.
How has your queer journey been?
I didn’t even know trans people existed until I was an adult. There was nobody who was out where I lived. It was very hush-hush, nobody talked about it. When I moved to California, I had trans and gender-diverse friends who opened my eyes to what is possible. The socially constructed binary of gender is weird, and not even normal.
I wish I would have known and been exposed to a lot more when I was younger. But I didn’t know it was even a possibility, so it took me a long time to get here. I hadn’t really had a long-term relationship until I met my present partner. We have been together for just over a year.
How do you feel about the state of LGBTQ rights and equality in America right now?
It’s great in a way. There is a constant conversation about queer and trans right always on the table—although probably not in the way it should be or led by the people who should be leading it. But at least conversations are being had. It is heartbreaking that black trans women are being murdered, and later misgendered by the news. I have mixed feelings. I am proud to work for institutions that are fighting for our rights, but it is also sad that once it was trans people in bathrooms that people focused on, now it’s trans kids playing sports.
Trump and Pence are terrifying. This administration needs to go. I don’t think the Democrats are much better. I read an interview with Angela Davis, where she talked about the need for a third party that understood black, trans, and queer people. That party doesn’t exist yet, but that’s the party I would believe in.
Tell me about your activism
I am still a student at Mills College, Oakland. I will graduate in December. Public policy in law is the focus of my study. I am very excited to work part-time with the Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights Under Law, which focuses on economic, racial, and immigrant justice. I see them making changes with this administration, and it’s heartwarming.
On campus, I led a campaign to get regular trash cans (alongside compostable ones) installed in the men’s restrooms. I was still experiencing periods, and it was a problem for me—having to throw what I use in the compostable trash or carry it out into the hall. Also, cis men generate trash which isn’t compostable!
I also led a campaign to make trans health care more accessible on campus, leading us to produce a card with a list of trans health-care providers in the local area. My experience of the Bay Area is that most doctors have no experience of trans health care.
I had a doctor literally say to my face, “I know nothing about trans health care and don’t plan on learning anything about it.” Every time I see her she reminds me to go see a different doctor. Her excuse is that she’s old and has already learned a lot, and doesn’t feel like learning anything else.
Insurance for affirming procedures has been a struggle for me. Everything has been on hold for eight months now, which has been extremely frustrating. Transitioning has been hard. I have been on testosterone for a while, but haven’t had surgeries. I think I may seem confusing to people. Because of a back injury I don’t bind. I also have facial hair.
But I am white, and that gives me privilege and a pass in a lot of places. I find myself thinking lots of things, like are people being rude to me, eyeing me up? Are they transphobic, or am I doing something wrong, or are they having a bad day? I’m also 5 foot 2, so I’m concerned for my safety in ways I haven’t been before.
I see a lot of trans men on Twitter say they feel erased. I do not. To me, it’s like those people who say All lives matter in response to Black Lives Matter. Well, yes they do, but it’s black lives we should be focused on right now. Trans men do experience harm, but it’s black trans women who are being murdered, and trans women who famous people like to attack. So our focus and support should be with them. I have never seen a famous person attack trans men.
What has made you proudest in your work?
I just think the work needs to be done and I’m in a position to be privileged to have the resources and time to do the work. I feel I should do it, but I also enjoy it. I don’t know if I have done enough of the work to feel proud, and don’t know if I ever will feel I have done enough of the work to feel proud.
What about the future?
I plan on getting a Masters in Public Policy, then taking a break from school. I would like to get involved in the legislative process—planning, writing, and pushing through policy, which would be exciting.
I've been working with the Equality California Institute. Last year I attended their Leadership Academy as a student fellow, and this summer I was accepted into their Comcast Fellowship program. I would love to work with them, or the Transgender Law Center, to work on pushing legislation through to improve the lives of the LGBTQ community. Then law school after that. I want to be good enough at law to do things pro bono for people. But nothing is set in stone. I have learned that life laughs at you if you make plans. I have a fuzzy goal, and I’m just trying to get there.
What advice do you have for other young activists?
It’s hard to start, especially if you come from a place where activism is a bad thing. It was hard for me to get a foot through the door. But apply for things, reach out to people, and just do it!