The
teenage girl next to me said aloud, “Black-Holes and Baby Universes
and other Essays,” — reading the title of the book in my lap. “By
Stephen Hawking.”
“Eskwela
diay ka?” she asked.
(Are you studying?)
“O,
ngano diay?” I
replied. (Yes, why?)
“Ganahan
sab ko mo eskwela, pero dili mi ka-afford,”
she said. (I, too, wanted to study
in the universitybut
we don’t have money.) “Unsa
imo course?” (What
are you taking up?)
“Engineering…”
I answered. “Unsa
diay trabaho imo ginikanan?”
(What do your parents do?)
“Clean
and Green,” she said. (Clean and Green was the pet-project of
former president Arroyo, employing mostly women to clean the streets
and highways with a meager salary).
A
long silence passed, and to bridge the gap, I asked her, “Asa
ka padulong?” (Where
are you going?)
“Sotto,” she
answered. (Vicente Sotto Memorial Medical Center)
“Mag-unsa
ka didto?” I asked.
(What are you going to do there?)
“Regular
check-up man nako sa psychiatrist,”
she answered. (Visit my psychiatrist for regular check-up.)
Without
much delay, perhaps so as to keep me at ease before asking her final
and much more sensitive
question, she asked, “Bayot
ka noh?” (You are
gay?)
After
a millisecond of silence, I blurted, “NO…”
Sweating,
my heart pumping alarmingly fast, and my surroundings going dark —
but nonetheless fully conscious in a fully packed PUV, I lied and
disowned myself, which is perhaps the greatest catastrophe of all.
With
a sigh of relief, she said, “Abi
nako og bayot ka.”
(I assumed then that you were really gay.)
I
was surprised because I am not a “typical” Filipino gay. Perhaps
the effect of a deeply masculine culture, I present myself as more
masculine than feminine. I am more “straight” acting — for lack
of a more politically correct term. In the Philippines, gays are
usually the parlorista
or those working in beauty parlors who dress elaborately and often
speak the uniquely Filipino gay lingo.
However,
assumptions, and its twin, suspicions, are very common in the
Philippines, and perhaps in other parts of the world where homophobia
manifests itself in more wicked ways.
As
an activist fighting
and advocating for the rights of the marginalized (students and
youth, workers and peasants, for example) since
my early days in college, I
was taught to be honest in all matters of public life.
But when she
pressed me on such a sensitive matter, I felt like I had been hit by
lightning. Crippled for a few seconds, I lied.
Crimeless
suspects
I’ve
been asked by almost all the heterosexual females I know who know my
sexuality, whether a male friend or acquaintance is gay or not.
Interestingly, I haven’t had any heterosexual males ask me about
another male’s sexual orientation, though I’ve observed many
eagerly chiming in when conversation tackles issues on male gayness
like our practices, perspectives, sexuality, love lives, and family
affairs.
I
use the word male
instead of men
because the demography of gayness in areas I’ve been to in the
Philippines is getting younger, reflecting greater freedom of
expression in regards to sexuality — through dress, language, and
use of make up, for instance — things I did not see during my early
childhood years.
While
activism culture offers a more unbiased understanding of people,
class, and society because of its intellectual nature and commitment
to empathizing with and helping those who are marginalized,
understanding gender and male sexuality issues lags far behind — a
hindrance to fully appreciating the value of every human being.
Heterosexual men in the Philippines tolerate gays but are rarely
fully accepting.
Heterosexual
women, on the other hand, are more open and sympathetic to the gay
cause — perhaps because the common denominator between the two is
their direct and indirect opposition to male supremacy and
patriarchy.
Curiously,
it’s mostly women who ask for my opinion on gay suspects they have
“identified.” Women, like gays, often have this so-called
“gay-dar.” I always answer their queries using my own way of
subjectively assessing someone’s sexual orientation: observing
their gestures, expressions, mannerisms, even styles, and of course
by looking at their eyes, which express desires and feelings.
In
fact, during family gatherings like birthdays, anniversaries, and
clan reunions, the talk always unfortunately gravitates toward who is
gay or not. The family, as the prime social unit where understanding,
openness, and acceptance should prevail is held hostage by machismo
and patriarchy. It is supposedly the place where one can freely open
up about one’s sexuality, but unfortunately family gatherings often
turn into convenient gay bashing forums looking for crimeless
suspects.
In
the workplace and in the community, half serious jokes coupled with
sarcasm, are levied at various targets — comments such as “Kanus-a
man ka maglad-lad yadz?”
(Hey gay, when are you going to come-out?) or “Ikaw
nalang wala kabalo nga bayot ka”
(It seems you’re the only gay who doesn’t know your sexuality).
Such commentary is especially common among the lower and middle
classes perhaps due to living conditions in tight and densely
populated communities where neighbors are aware of each other’s
business or due to their lack of understanding in regards to
sexuality and gender issues. Don’t get me wrong — it also happens
among the upper classes, though they tend to be more indirect or
discreet.
But
all of this is just suspicion and when one’s sexuality is in the
open, it deepens stigma, discrimination, and encourages oppression.
It is all too common; I have experienced emotional and verbal abuse,
but a social activist like me sees it in perspective —
understanding the
social and historical context of gender bias and discrimination. In
the course of my heterosexual female friends’ queries, my only
regret is offering them a positive answer to their assumptions.
While
it is good to discuss equality
and respect within the context of gender and sexuality,
we must make greater strides toward ending male supremacy or even
heteronormativity. Discussions and debates on LGBT issues should
progress toward ending gender-based discrimination.
The
current social set-up in an economically backward (agricultural
based and pre-industrial)
and third world country like the Philippines — deepened feudal
relations, patriarchy, and macho-culture — cultivates more
pronounced discrimination and intolerance on the basis of one’s
gender and sexuality. But homophobia is more muted than in the West
where bullying and homophobia has driven many to suicide, or resulted
in incidents like the death of university student Matthew Shephard.
Perhaps
it’s because tolerance, rather than hatred, is deeply ingrained in
our social practices in the Philippines. I haven’t met anyone with
eternal hatred toward another. We Filipinos easily forget and
forgive, which is often tragic, because justice can often go
unserved.
However,
gay tolerance is
truer
in the communities I’ve been to
where every fiesta celebration is not complete without the
participation of the gay community, or in the schools where major
roles in the classrooms are assigned to openly gay students
and in workplaces where gay workers organize events for the company.
Western
influences
In
1998, I learned to use the Internet and through chatting on the
popular mIRC
or Internet Relay Chat, I
came to know and met some like-minded men.
In
fact, the Internet was the source of my first sexual contact with
someone of the same sex at age 18, and it completely changed my views
on sexual roles between males who have sex with males. The Internet
provided new possibilities for roles, concepts, and relations —
often derived from the West.
When
a chat-mate called me up, we discussed and shared our stories. He
then asked, “Top ka
or bottom?” (Are you top or bottom?). “Unsa
mana?” I asked.
(What is that?)
After
explaining this differentiation, he said, “Ingon
ana man sa West.” (It
is like that in the West).
At
first, I felt such sexual roles between gay men was too much and a
bit too radical, because it isn’t typical within my local gay
community. I grew up believing that gay men should partner with
straight men — a common practice today and among the generations
before mine.
The
longing to be with straight men is perhaps due to the fact that we
inherited from the Filipino gays ahead of us this notion that we are
a sub-population within the female community.
However,
with the new partner I met on the net, he introduced to me sexual
roles between two gay men, which I had never tried or heard of from
my close gay friends at that time.
We
tend to seek straight men for short-term sexual escapades often in
exchange for money or even emotional attachment and long-term
relationships, in which the gay partner assumes the responsibility of
caring for his straight partner. However, many gay men in the cities,
mostly netizens, now practice this gay-to-gay sexual and/or emotional
set-up. However, it is rare in far-flung rural areas.
Even
now, discussions on sexual roles like top, bottom, and versatile
often starts and ends in the cities and are often commonly
practiced by active young
gay netizens.
When
my gay friends from the city and I, who are, let’s say — top —
look for same sex partners who are straight in far-flung or rural
areas, we always assume the traditional bottom role designated for
Filipino gay men who are with straight men.
But
the so-called liberalism of western
gays in all aspects
of social life is due mainly to their economic status. They tend to
control their destiny and influence others by virtue of their
economic power. When you have money and more of it, you are not only
liberating yourself from poverty and want but also joining the club
of influential individuals whose voices can greatly influence
political policies and institutions and create new norms.
Hence,
the word “pink market” was coined precisely to take advantage of
western
gays’ consumerist
culture.
Bisdak
Pride
After
years of activism doing community organizing and espousing the rights
of youth
and students, workers, peasants and women,
I realized the importance of establishing an organization devoted to
advancing the rights of
the LGBT community. Bisdak
Pride was born in 2005, focusing on the gay community whose
vernacular is Bisaya (Cebuano), the native tongue of people in
southern Philippines, the second most commonly used language behind
Tagalog.
We
comprise a significant portion of the Philippine population but are
often neglected because the majority of LGBT support groups are based
in Manila (the capitol region) — catering to Tagalog speaking
populations. That is why we call our organization “Bisdak (Great
Bisayan) Pride.”
We
devote most of our time to
organizing LGBT organizations in various communities and assisting
existing LGBT groups in strengthening their advocacy abilities and
commitment to furthering gender equality in all matters of public
life. As we celebrate our eighth year, we rejoice in having reached
20 not yet fully rights-based LGBT groups — re-invigorated some and
aided the formation of new groups.
Currently,
on-going organizing efforts are in place to reach more than a
thousand LGBT and non-LGBT
individuals before the end of the year
(through orientations and discussions) to
ensure a wide and deeply rooted LGBT community capable of asserting
its rightful place in the Philippines.
In
ensuring solidarity and establishing our agenda, Bisdak Pride
conducts a monthly Pride Night in
partnership with Handuraw Pizza, the most gay friendly pizza
restaurant in Cebu, where we address what we deem fit and necessary
to advancing the LGBT cause — tackling issues such as health,
wellness and environmental concerns and promotion of LGBT arts and
culture.
We
aim to ensure a healthier lifestyle for our fellow LGBTs through our
queer health program focusing on HIV and AIDS prevention.
To
fully realize our queer culture program, we facilitated in the
implementation of a local independent film festival called “Binisaya”
— so as to propagate stories on LGBT issues as well as those
affecting other communities of people. Promotion of culture and arts
is an integral aspect of our advocacy, as the local LGBT community is
known to excel in dancing, singing, and acting.
We
discuss the complex relationship between religion and sexuality as
well as queer theology with our partner LGBT organizations so as to
counter the attacks of so-called “moralists” who use religion to
justify homophobia.
We
also penetrate university students through our “We S.O.A.R.”
project or “We Strengthen our Oneness, Advocating our Rights” in
order for college students to appreciate and understand gender and
sexuality from the context of a human rights LGBT group.
As
we celebrate our eight year of continuous service to the gay
community, we unabashedly promised to color the Bisdak communities
pink by understanding and evaluating the issues and concerns of the
local LGBT community and organize them into a potent force that will
soon deliver a powerful blow to liberate every LGBT individual from
the bondage of stigma, discrimination, and intolerance — so that,
in the end, no one will dare say “NO” to a question that
shouldn't be asked.
