I am blessed to know many south asian 2SLGBTQ+ allies, many of whom have offered to write an article for this blog. Sarina Sharma is a highly intelligent, strong-minded independent thinker and I love hearing her opinions on various topics. She has kindly taken time out of her busy schedule to write this following post for you to ponder:
I wish I could be writing a different kind of post. I came into this with something else in mind. I hope I could have written a different kind of post. But now, the unthinkable has happened again.
Just before midnight of Saturday November 19, 2022, on the eve of Transgender Day of Remembrance at the conclusion of Transgender Week of Visibility, gunshots rang out in Club Q, in Colorado Springs. Being situated in a rather conservative community, Club Q was long known as a safe haven for the LGBTQ+ people of Colorado Springs. That safe haven, however, was shattered last Saturday night. Five lives were taken that night- among them a trans man, a trans woman, and a drag performer. Twenty-five more were injured, including at least two brave defenders, who subdued the gunman so that they were remanded into custody alive. It was the deadliest attack on the American LGBTQ+ community since the Pulse Nightclub Shooting of 2016.
Anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments have been intensifying in recent years, and transgender people in particular have become subject to worsening violence and discrimination. Emboldened by the growth of far-right extremism on social media since 2016, drag shows, queer venues, and queer events have become the focus of renewed harassment and attacks. A far-right TikTok account known to be behind several attacks on community outreach events openly praised Saturday’s horrific attack. Furthermore, laws restricting education, such as Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay Bill”, and other laws restricting transgender healthcare and school sporting participation, are passed at a fever pitch. The ruling that struck down Roe v. Wade last summer suggested that the 2015 ruling legalizing gay marriage nationwide in the US could be the next to go. Even Canadian politics is not immune-- a proliferation of “anti-woke” school trustees ran in this year’s round of municipal elections, seeking to restrict diversity and LGBTQ+ curricula in schools.
In addition, racism has also been intensifying, with new kinds of suspicion being cast on people perceived to be immigrants. In 2017, six people were killed in a racist attack at a Quebec mosque, and in 2021, a London, ON family from Pakistan was run over in a white supremacist attack. This puts LGBTQ+ people of color, including those in the South Asian Community, in a very vulnerable position.
From the outside, South Asian LGBTQ+ people face the brunt of both intensified racist and queerphobic hostilities. But there are racist undercurrents in the LGBTQ+ community, and queerphobic undercurrents in the South Asian community. It is not uncommon to see Grindr profiles excluding South Asian men, using phrases like “no curry” or “no rice”. Meanwhile, South Asian cultures often prize entering heteronormative marriages young, often arranged by parents and elders to raise standing in the community, and some may face religious barriers too. Thus, South Asian Queer people often feel uncomfortable both participating in white dominated queer circles, or coming out to family who they fear would be narrow and conservative minded, leaving them with few places to turn to for support at a time when hostility towards queer people of color is the highest it’s been in decades.
This has had tragic consequences-- 4 of the serial killer Bruce McArthur’s victims were men of South Asian descent, including 2 Afghans and 2 Sri Lankans, one of whom was undocumented. McArthur’s crimes were relatively unnoticed until he killed a white man, and his South Asian victims were also closeted out of fear of reprisal from their communities. These two factors allowed McArthur to continue killing for nearly a decade before he was apprehended. Had these men been able to turn to their communities for support, they may well be with us today, and McArthur stopped in his tracks long ago.
More than ever, the South Asian community has an obligation to protect its queer members. This requires understanding the unique factors within individual cultures that are behind queerphobia.
One such factor could be religion-- while mainstream homophobia often stems from Christianity, the dominant faiths of South Asia include Hinduism, Sikhism and Islam. Addressing homo and transphobia in these communities could reach back to queerness in these faiths. Hinduism has the form of Shiva Ardhanari, which is a half male, half female form that transcends gender. In Sikhism, there is no gender limitations to taking the Khalsa, as all are equal under Waheguru. Islam views God as compassionate and all merciful, and many Muslim LGBTQ+ activists have extended this to queer Muslims.
Another is colonialism and the erasure of forms of queerness native to South Asian communities. The Hijira are a third gender that exist in India often described as a type of transgender woman. They are a prominent part of the community, and have legal recognition, making India one of the few countries with legal recognition of transgender identity. Yet, few people know of their existence and history. Queerness is not the result of Westernization in South Asia, queerness is intrinsic to it, and by celebrating our own unique forms of it, we can create space for it in the community.
Lastly, uplifting and celebrating queer members of our community can create queer role models. Young South Asian queer people often cannot think of members of their community that are also queer, leaving them to feel that they are alone. Fortunately, this is starting to improve in recent years. Priyanka, the winner of Canada’s Drag Race, is Indo-Guyanese, while Lilly Singh, famously known as Superwoman, came out as bisexual in 2019. Kal Penn, best known for playing Kumar in 2004’s Harold and Kumar, came out as gay in 2021. In this way, queer South Asians can know they are represented, and valued in their community.
It is becoming more and more imperative that queer South Asians feel protected within their own communities, especially at such a time of vulnerability. A community can only be as strong as its most vulnerable people, and by creating religious acceptance, confronting the impacts of colonialism, and celebrating queer South Asians, we can create a stronger, more resilient community.