Friendship

From Jakarta Globe:

One day, one of my transgender friends, asked me:

"Do you have the courage to be my friend?"
"I'm a person with HIV, and my family doesn't know." 

 

 "Knowing I'm transgender is already a nightmare for them, 

and if they knew I'm HIV positive, it would only make things worse. 

 

The reality of it was difficult to accept, 

but life must go on."

Honestly, I was scared. 

At that time, I knew very little about HIV. 

The short conversation would forever stay in my mind.

I started asking myself, "Do I genuinely want to be their friend? 

Or is this just a 'duty' that I need to fulfill?"

I decided to continue my interaction with them in hopes to find the answer along the way.
In 2011, Indonesia Untuk Kemanusiaan (IKA), the resource mobilization organization I currently work with, began supporting a group of young transgender people in Jatinegara, East Jakarta.

 

This group, called Swara, was established in 2010 by several transgender activists. 

In only two years Swara grew rapidly,

quickly making a name for itself as a progressive organization supporting more than 150 transgender individuals throughout Jakarta.

"The data shows these people face disproportionate amounts of discrimination in all areas of life, 

especially in employment, which is exacerbated through unstable jobs and a lack of acceptance of their political identity in the community."

"The organization creates a safe environment for [transgender people], in which 

 they can learn safely learn about their rights through informal education organized by activists and volunteers," Chika said,

"We also help them gain financial independence by teaching them ways to create a home business, 

such as a beauty salon, so they will no longer suffer from socio-economic inequalities from pervasive discrimination in the workplace."

In many cases, transgender youths are shunned by their families and communities. 

They quickly make their way to the big city, where they hope to find acceptance.

"Here in Jakarta, no one knows me, and I can be myself without worrying about shaming my friends and family," 

Aysa, rarely returns to her hometown. 

But several months ago, she says, her father fell ill and Aysa's family asked her to return home.

Most of these young individuals decide to run away from home to escape the shame and anger felt by their families. 

In some cases, they are asked to leave.

As a result, they tend to drop out of school, are left to work on the streets or worse; 

they end up in debt, addicted to drugs and struggling to get by.

Left with few options, transgenders are often forced to turn to prostitution or busking on the street. 

If they are lucky, they may find work at a salon as a beautician.

In the past two and a half years, I've gained a better understanding on the complexity of their lives in exclusion. 

 

Still, I can only imagine how hard they must struggle to be accepted as regular citizen in today's society.