Dark clouds still mar the rainbow
The LGBTQ community needs more representation in education, workplaces and also improved healthcare
The United States Supreme Court’s landmark decision to legalise same-sex marriage met with wild cheering worldwide, especially in the subcontinent where LGBTQ people suffer daily persecution because of a draconian law.
The celebrations spilled onto Facebook as millions adopted rainbow colours synonymous with the struggles of queer people. Overnight, many, who were otherwise sexist and not shy of cracking a hijra joke or two, became allies of the movement. The two events, both poignant and public, have one thing in common — their powerful symbolism. The compelling imagery of people in love demanding their right to stand as equals was used to court popular opinion.
Similarly, a shower of rainbows on Facebook sent a strong message of youth solidarity even from quarters who didn’t know or cared about queer issues. But such victories can mean little if not followed up with concerted action and critical questioning, especially in countries struggling with basic survival issues.
In the US, the victory barely concealed the mounting cases of homeless LGBTQ youth, violence against black and Latino queer people, unsafe working conditions and failing healthcare systems for trans-populations and widespread homophobia outside the big cities. Marriage may be an alluring dream, but can it go hand in hand with more urgent issues — gender sensitisation, so that young queer people don’t succumb to bullying, and facilities are made available to transpeople to improve representation in educational institutions, workplaces and access to improved healthcare and counselling.
Engagement with others like the women’s or Dalit rights movements is also essential as facing oppression is not bound to an exclusive identity. Hence, it is important to build solidarity and speak out against violence — because the repression faced by a gay man isn’t very different from that of a Dalit. Further, a gay Dalit man carries a double burden of discrimination. Thankfully in India, there is a genuine effort to negate traditional axes of privileges that put middle class and upper caste people from majority communities at the helm of even minority struggles.
There is far less erasure of trans identities here and greater work on grassroots sensitisation. But this isn’t enough unless we critically examine our choices. In spite of the wonderful ways of queering the oppressive, patriarchal institution of marriage — including subverting mandatory financial dependence or traditional gender roles — we need to ask if the symbolism is enough.
Trans activists of colour have spoken out about how the US verdict helps urban, white, middle class gay men, who have access to resources to bargain with the state. India doesn’t recognise that a section of its people live without dignity and are persecuted by an unjust law. But in our haste to gain popular currency, let us not forget that education, jobs, safety and health affect everyone far more than marriage. Changing one’s photo to a rainbow will not help achieve much if efforts are not made to spread queer awareness around us and fight hate on social media.
So the next time, call out bigotry and homophobia around you and tell friends and family to support the fight against Section 377. Social media is a powerful tool to dispel prejudice and this struggle for justice and equality is for everyone, not just ‘minorities’. The time for symbolism is over.