Pride month is always a time of duality. On one hand it is a period of immense pride. A celebratory affair that centres the varied lives and experiences of LGBTQ+ individuals across the world. On the other hand, it is a time of resistance, where the perpetual struggles of violence against those within the community are highlighted, and calls for action are made. While some fall squarely on one side or the other, I think it is important to embrace both, particularly the latter.
Visibility is important, but it should not be the end goal, as visibility without social and structural changes means very little for queer persons having to navigate a world that is hostile to them. Guyana still has a very long way to go in respecting the rights of its citizens, particularly those that have been historically marginalized. Despite being a secular state, Guyana’s social and political landscape is largely influenced by its religious sector. I am of the firm view that the religion of others should be respected, but those religions should not take precedence over the rights of other people. It is becoming more and more apparent that there will not be any progressive changes within the policy and legal framework from the government unless they are forced to do so (as was seen in the Caribbean Court of Justice ruling striking down the law against cross-dressing that primarily impacted trans women).
The rights of LGBTQ+ persons have been up for debate for too long. It is quite easy for other groups to recognize the oppression they face, but lack understanding when it comes to those who love and present a bit differently from heteronormative standards of acceptance. Human rights come with caveats, depending on where you fall in the ideological chain. So we often have to contend with folks who believe we should fight for equality, but that equality must be within limits when it comes to those of varying sexualities and gender identities. Suddenly, there are more important things to be worried about such as racism, poverty, police abuse, and women’s discrimination…as if these things do not impact LGBTQ+ persons when it in fact disproportionately affects them due to structural issues backed by colonial-inspired intolerance and biases.
There is a common belief amongst many that LGBTQ+ rights are a Western invention, and I get where that comes from. Pride, as a linguistic product does emanate from the West, and the large public protest actions against the police by trans women in the US such as Marsha P. Johnson have been instrumental in pride taking on a global significance as it has today. This, however, does not mean that they were the innovators of LGBTQ+ rights globally.
In fact, while many are wont to reject it, we were always here. Queer, gender-non-identifying persons have always existed within Guyana, the Caribbean and the rest of the Global South. What has been fairly new within our region, is the visibility that we now get. While queer persons have always existed, this existence has primarily been within the shadows. Growing up, “they” were something to be whispered about at social gatherings, and to throw taunts at when they passed. Their identities were never celebrated, because it was not something that many of them celebrated or even claimed. The difference now is that while being queer is still a point of contention for many, it does not hold the same weight or stain as it once did, and a lot of this is in part due to Western visibility movements in conjunction with our own movements for LGBTQ+ rights and equality within the region.
As a queer woman, I stand in solidarity with LGBTQ+ persons, particularly trans women who face the brunt of violence and social stigma within societies such as ours. Our liberation as a community and society as a whole are intricately tied up with each other. We cannot achieve equality without also fighting for the liberation of others.