Guys, interrupted: Indonesian trans men set their sights on more visibility
23 June, 2021
Thirty-year-old Amar Alfikar already felt “odd” within the body he was assigned to as a youngster. Growing up in an Islamic boarding school that was owned by his parents, Amar enjoyed the camaraderie of other boys - not girls. When he entered junior senior high school, Amar was told that he had to wear a headscarf.
“I felt like I had to wear a mask as an effective [Muslim girl] wearing a hijab. I had to suppress my anxiety, confusion, fear, and discomfort. It all became too unbearable to the idea that I started inflicting harm on myself,” said Amar.
The self-harm episodes occurred until Amar entered college. At university, Amar started out to familiarize himself more with diversity. He also became involved in interfaith discussions. In one discussion, an Islamic teacher told him that Allah didn't see one’s gender identity or sexual orientation.
From there, Amar set out to look for a psychologist who later confirmed that he was a trans man.
“It took me some time to locate a psychologist who was trans friendly. I saw four psychologists and they were all transphobic before I met the correct one,” he said.
The session with the psychologist helped Amar to build a foundation on his self-identity before finally coming out to his parents. He recalled that before he spilled the tea, all his clothes were already packed. Amar was sure he would be disowned since he originated from a Muslim family.
Instead, his mother hugged him and told him that she loved him even more after he came clean. Amar found the acceptance to be truly heartwarming since he never felt close to his mother before.
“My mother even stood as a witness throughout a hearing for me to improve my name. That was 3 years ago,” he said.
Amar now works as an activist and uses his social media platforms to market more interfaith discussions. He works on projects to motivate local religious leaders to become more affirming toward queer communities, together with building more safe spaces in religious communities.
Since coming out, Amar is no stranger to offensive comments from people. On social media, persons would ask Amar whether his beard is fake or if he stands when goes to the toilet. He also felt that he had to prove his “manliness” since developing as a trans man.
“It’s toxic masculinity and patriarchy,” said Amar, who added that people often found him odd, since he's a trans man and a feminist as well.
The struggle is real
Caesar, 30, who works as a copywriter for an advertising agency, said the biggest struggle that he experienced since he came out as a trans man was when he entered a fresh environment, especially the workplace and dating life.
“We can’t deny that virtually all trans men were traditionally raised as women who are anticipated to be obedient, soft, polite and passive. For me personally, the impact is fairly huge. I feel insecure and doubtful when facing challenges,” said Caesar.
Ahead of his current company, Caesar worked at several places which were all LGBT-friendly. When he decided to branch out of his safe place, he was lucky to have found a company that could at least be open-minded about his identity.
Caesar, who dates women, said that in dating life, he's also selective because he does not want his identity to be invalidated.
Ardhana Rishvara, 32, who works as a graphic designer, illustrator, and mental health activist, said he did not feel any obstacles in his professional life. In fact, Ardhana, who recommended to be called Ardhan, said he had landed his dream job.
“The largest struggle is dating life. Because I’m gay, I like men, and it’s rare to discover a gay man who's right into a trans man,” said Ardhan, who lives in Denpasar, Bali.
Ardhan also admitted that he'd be annoyed whenever someone asked him about his dating preferences.
“People would ask me if I still like guys, why didn’t I just stay as a female. I was like, dude, there’s a notable difference between gender identity and sexual orientation, you know,” he said.
Visibility
Although he has been out on social media for quite some time, Amar admitted that he felt invisible, even among LGBT people.
“Even in discussions and forums about transgender issues, [the speakers] are always trans women, not really a single trans man,” he said, adding that he hoped that queer communities, NGOs, and LGBT allies would involve more trans men to advertise transgender rights.
Amar’s sentiments were echoed by Caesar who said that because of having less visibility, many trans men found it hard to find their own identity. He added that because it was so hard to find psychologists or doctors who were open-minded toward LGBT persons in general, it had been difficult to find the proper information.
“Consequently, many trans men feel alone,” he said.
Caesar and many other trans men decided to create a social media platform so that trans men may find one another and get more info on related issues. These platforms include Transhition ID, Transmen Indonesia and Transmentalk.
Even among LGBT communities, Caesar felt that the voices of trans men were not perceived as priorities as a result of the limited number of noticeable trans men.
“Even when we go to airports or banks, predicated on experience, we have to describe [to the officers] at least 20 minutes that we are transgender people. Trans women can just say their identity and become done with it. That is because of the lack of visibility,” he said.
Ardhan agreed with Caesar, adding that it had been important for people to comprehend that transgender people, including trans men, exist included in this.
“This is also very important to younger trans men so that they are able to find their own people. For instance, the platform Trans Men Talk Indonesia allows younger trans men to get hold of us and have how they can get into transition safely,” he said.
Not absolutely all trans men trust being more visible, however. Kevin, 30, a freelance photographer and videographer located in Ubud, Bali, said being seen or being noticeable did not always mean good.
“The media have a tendency to give us a narrow viewpoint, selling stories that are unethical and bring misunderstanding about transgender people,” he said.
For the present time, Kevin is happy enough if nobody calls him by his deadname. Deadnaming is using the former name of a transgender or non-binary person without the person's consent.
“If indeed they keep calling me by my deadname, I might aswell call them dogs or cockroaches, because I assume that is their name,” he said.
Caesar admitted that there surely is a little number of transgender persons who don't have issues with their former name.
“But it’s easier to ask a trans person what name they want to be referred to by,” he said.
Source: www.thejakartapost.com
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