#gapimny

For nearly 30 years, GAPIMNY (formerly Gay Asian Pacific Islander Men of NY) has been creating events and programs, documenting queer and trans AAPI history, and advocating for rights and visibility.

Founded in 1990, GAPIMNY offered critical support and community to AAPIs experiencing racism and homophobia in the midst of an HIV/AIDS crisis.

In 1991, GAPIMNY, Asian Lesbians on the East Coast, and other groups protested the racist musical Miss Saigon on Broadway. GAPIMNY played a major role in educating white LGBTQ people about yellowface and racist stereotypes. 

Miss Saigon protest photo credit: Bino Realuyo

Early on in therapy, my shrink told me to read about "learned helplessness," a condition in which a person suffers from a sense of powerlessness, arising from a traumatic event or persistent failure to succeed. This failure is conditioned, meaning that a person learns to "give in" or "give up" because he/she lives in conditions that create pain and adversity, and that there is no logical solution to make such pain/adversity stop. This helped me understand how systems of oppression are designed to oppress you, and that the status quo cannot, or will not change, to improve your social conditions because it is willfully, and intentionally, created to bring you down and "keep you in your place."'

Learned helplessness was studied on animals--dogs and rats--with certain control groups that were taught (or helped) to avoid suffering--shock, or drowning--while other animals were randomly made to suffer, and conditioned to not fight for life, because their pain would not have a logical solution, or only end on random terms.

I have learned helplessness from all kinds of abuse--domestic violence, bullying, racism, homophobia, xenophobia--what have I not experienced? By this point, I know my life didn't, or won't go, the "easy way." But therapy did help me become aware that despite all the hardship, there is a way through the suffering, and unlike helpless animals, I can ask for help and usually help does arrive.

Knowing where the pain/hostility/adversity will come from, I have also learned how to confront it--to not be surprised or beaten down by the system, but to expect the system to work the way it was designed to work, and to know that the system can be subverted, or denied of its power, if you have the courage to stand up for yourself and say "no."

Sometimes, "no" is the most powerful statement I've learned to make, and when certain situations are not only oppressive, but entrenched in a culture of dominance, I know that I have the freedom to walk away. I do not need nor desire to be dominated and whoever asserts power, control and authority with the language of domination is an automatic warning that this environment is dangerous for someone like me, and my loved ones.

My world has become smaller, and tighter, because these days, more and more places feel entrenched in this dictatorial, alt-right insanity that makes me feel like I'm witnessing the rise of a new Nazi-like nationalism in America. It also makes me feel like I'm witnessing the tipping point towards cataclysmic climate change. Or as Marx described, post-late capitalism where the system exploits and destroys its own.

It is scary out there, and enraging, and it is unveiling to us all how little it cares about changing the way it is. Like a helpless dog, or mouse, I've felt like this is the time to be quiet because there is nothing to do to make things change. But I know that this is not true. And I know that so many are so actively taking action to make a change.

For those who are getting tired of all of this, I guess I just wanted to say that this "learned helplessness" is a condition that after ten years, I have not been able to shake off. But it's a condition that I've learned to become aware of, and to address in my life, by challenging myself to make better choices that help me prioritize my own safety, well-being, and ability to enjoy life with gratitude, and love, for the people I choose to be with. It has helped me regain my agency by realizing that I never needed the system, the system needs us, and alternative systems are out there to replace the old status quo.

I've also learned to find my own voice, to be authentic by embracing my origins, my ancestry, and bloodlines. Undoing the male privilege in my life to connect with my emotions, my feelings, and subjectivity. I've learned to connect with people based on values I believe in, and to go beyond "agreeing to disagree," in order to actively find community that I can be fully on board with. These days, "liberal tolerance" is my second-choice as I prefer to be holistically, and fully present, in my life.

And while this journey has felt like survival, the truth is that I've never been closer to being exactly who I wanted to be, doing exactly what I dreamt of, trying to be my very best self, everyday, while recognizing that the wounded, hurting parts of me require the kind of love, self-care, and healing, the system would deny me if I were a part of it.

It took me time to believe and understand my learned helplessness. But by learning how I felt helpless and depressed and hopeless, I found ways to be truthful, and honest to myself, about how I wish to live with freedom. And this, truly, has been a blessing I am most grateful for.

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In April 1991, The Heat is On "Miss Saigon:" Coalition to End Racism and Sexism on Broadway, which was led by Asian Lesbians of the East Coast (ALOEC) and Gay Asian and Pacific Islander Men of New York (GAPIMNY), protested the musical "Miss Saigon" at the Broadway Theater over its stereotypical portrayals of Asian and Pacific Islander (API) people, especially women. Additionally, the demonstration opposed Lambda Legal Defense Fund’s use of the show’s preview for its annual fundraising benefit despite earlier objections from members of ALOEC and GAPIMNY.

Dear Diary,

I’ve had a lot of emotions and thoughts since my father’s death. I don’t even feel that my last entry was emotionally authentic enough.

A year now feels both long and short. Long because a lot has changed. Short because the sh*t I was forced to deal with just kept me busy.

My father had been allergic to paperwork. The English language had taxed him but not enough to be helpless, so he had never asked for help. He also had felt uncomfortable planning his estate because the mere suggestion of death felt like a threat. When he died so suddenly, my mother, sister, and I had to make last minute arrangements for his burial. There was an overwhelming amount of physical things that my father left behind that felt more like responsibilities than treasures. My sister and I took an inventory of all the loose ends. Since my mother wasn’t working, we were particularly nervous around getting my father’s benefits to my mother and handling all the paperwork for the estate. While handling that paperwork, I also had to handle my own.

I guess my legal name change was also a cathartic reaction to the lack of my parents' arrangements. I don't regret doing it but I found out that changing your name is actually quite a pain in the a** and potentially financially costly. I went through a bunch of bureaucracy required by the legal process – including getting the required paperwork in order, getting a court order, putting an ad in the newspaper stating that I was changing my name, notifying Social Security and DMV, and then paying more money to get official copies from the court clerk. They don't give you a checklist of possible records you may have that you would want to change after court but I had a long list. I still had to go to a Social Security office with the court order to change it on my records there. I went to the DMV and paid for a new card. I had to apply in person for a new passport. Then I informed my employer. My employer’s record keeping systems aren’t centralized, especially when it came to benefits, so for a while I didn’t even get it changed on everything. Actually there were even some hiccups with my name misspelled. And I ended up resetting my whole credit history at all three bureaus.

I also changed the gender marker on my passport because it only required a doctor’s note and I wanted affirmation. But, between the keen awareness of how hostile the TSA and officers at the borders can be, and the frequent misgendering I was experiencing, I started wondering if transitioning on paper was enough.

The political climate had only made me more morbid. When I thought about my mortality, I realized that I wouldn’t be happy dying with the way I had my body. I started to physically train to defeminize and/or masculinize my body, but because I’ve been past the physical peak of teens and twenties, it takes more effort to lose weight and gain muscle.

A frustrating pattern had started emerging in all aspects of my life. I’ve been able to invoke change but I kept feeling dissatisfied with the outcome or the pace of progress. This feeling  even showed up at work. They put a manager in charge of that new project I worked on and the only way he could manage the project was to actually get a dedicated team. I agreed to be on that team. However since switching, I have found that the effort demanded by the primary responsibilities on the new team were high, the risks for visible mistakes were high, and yet there didn’t seem to be much appreciation of the work.

This made me feel unsettled. And when I am unsettled this way, I end up deciding on doing something. So I did.

Since I’ve felt relatively safe being authentically myself at my workplace (as I described even in my 2016 entry), I realized that I could start physically changing without being troubled my employer. After talking to friends about testosterone and surgery and the accessibility of all those options, I determined that hormone therapy was probably the best next step.

The only thing that held me back about hormone therapy was my mother. I didn't want to add to her grief, so it was my responsibility to at least communicate my decision. I really didn’t know the technical terms in Chinese and she had known that I live socially as a man, so I simply said I mean to really start becoming a man. She understood and raised concerns about health risks.

I made an appointment with APICHA to start hormone therapy and I asked about the health risks. The health provider was fortunately assuring that I wasn’t going to increase my total risk... I started my regimen of a low dosage shortly after.

My muscles reacted first to the increased testosterone by becoming tighter, then I noticed that it was easier to build muscle from exercising. There has been some changes in fat and weight. Slowly some of my facial hair is coming in darker. My voice is changing, but so subtly such that when I talk on the phone with my mother, she hasn’t seemed to notice.

A part of me gets more impatient the more I reflect on it...but I see that this is also part of my pattern. I could continue to react the same way by accelerating changes -- by taking a larger dosage -- but I don’t think that will address that discontent.

I turned 36 just recently. My partner managed to really surprise me for my birthday and my foresight has been humbled. Perhaps it’s time to embrace the fact that most of life is the journey itself and that there is really no map. At least I can share this journey with this diary.

Until next time,

Dear Diary,

It first started when I was a child. Family is traditional and strict. Such as comparing their children to others, expect them get good grades, earn high income, give money for parents to spend, get marry early, and produce children. This is what Asian families all want. Being raised in a Western world brings many cultural conflict. For me, I was raised in New York and adopt most Western culture. Hard to let Asians parents understand what is true love and what is the truth of life. My parents are uneducated and parenting is poor. They kept abusing and neglecting me since toddlerhood. This caused me have disabilities. Such as stutter, learning disability, anxiety, and low self-esteem. During all these years, I have trouble letting people understand my speech. Moreover, have social anxiety because few of talking to people.

When I was a child, some of my relatives often fool around with me. Once, my cousin wants to play game with me so we played fighting. Then, things got weird. Such as undressing me and touched me. That time, I didn’t know what this is. Next, nothing else happens. However, this happen multiple times. Having another cousin touch me body-to-body and some family members touching my private part. That time, my mind was fuzzy. Don’t know what happen until I know after growing up.

Years later, still have no loyal friends with me. Many just talk to me during school and play sports together. I just go to school and return home; then do my homework and sleep. This cycle repeatedly occur for years. However, I became very lonely because lack of true love from friends and family. Teachers lost trust on me for not doing well. They thought I’m Asian so should be smart but we are the same as others. In addition, I dislike many random students at the cafeteria kept coming to me asking how to solve their math problems. That time, my mind feel shame because I didn’t know the answer. This is stereotype for thinking every Asian knows math. To be honest, not every Asian is smart or talent. Probably, the Asians they saw on TV; were picked actors or famous people.

As my depression and anxiety gets worse, I have no ways to recover. Nobody would come near me. So I stay in front of computers every day. Watching shows and playing games to reduce down stress. One day, browsed a video with muscular male models. That time, my heart has a strong love beat. Those models entertained me. After keep searching, end up into a porn website. That time, watched those videos for hours losing conscious on time. This continue for months. Later on, mind became aware of my own body so I began touching myself. Understand the human body. For porn, watched many anime straight videos. Then, the male body attracted me the most.

Years later, the videos brought me into gay porn. During high school, bought some DVDs to store and watch. My dad also does this and he is straight. One day, my mom found the DVDs while cleaning my house. She was surprised. Then, she keeps asking me whether I’m “gay”. She said she will die if I am because she expects me date a girl to produce children with no HIV. My family was not educated so they are many things they didn’t know. Even I do tell them, they will not listen because they think their way is right. Kind of like spoiled parents. Next, I kept saying I’m “Straight”. After that, I throw away everything involves gay. This made me missed those stuff. From that time, I start to watch normal contents. Full of women and funny comedies.

During college, met a classmate at my Chinese class. He is gay and dating a Chinese man from China. We talked and go home together for months. He said “We could have been together if I was not dating someone.” This sounds he likes me. But I did not like him. Then, he kept following me by taking the bus with me. I felt annoyed and uncomfortable os him being by me. I said “stop” because the messages he sent to me is so sexual and controlling. Then, he got angered and act dramatic. He act like an actress from drama by avoiding her loved man. To be honest, I dislike dramatic people by getting too emotional and cause drama. My parents are dramatic so I dislike being with people like my parents. After that, he keeps avoiding me. I just focus on my own work and ignore him for harassing me.

Months after that classmate left, I was very stressed and depressed. I posted this on Facebook and then a random person messaged me. He is a member from my non-profit organization where we practice Buddhism. He is an inactive member. On the message, he wants to go to Spa with me. That time, I was curious why he ask go to spa with someone he doesn’t know well. That time, I accept because psychologist said I need to hang out with people. Finding supportive friends. When we went to spa, we have to strip down and go into sauna. It was my first time being naked in front of large crowd. Also, also time to spa. During spa, we went into the jacuzzi, steam room, and shower. The experience was exaggerating. While we are in jacuzzi, he wants to play game with me. Whoever couldn’t answer the question has to tickle each other. After answering few questions, we tickle each other because I answer all questions so he still wants to tickle. Then, he ask sexual question such as, “How often you masturbate?”. Later, he ask “Have you had sex with men?”. These made me wonder what is my sexual orientation.

After the game, he begins touching and squeezing my private part instead tickle. I felt uncomfortable. That time, I request to get dress and go upstairs to relax. Next, we got dress and walks upstairs to take a nap. Hours later, we went to a cozy and quiet room where people take their quiet naps. He sits close to me and touch my body. I was confounded because boys wants it but mind is uncomfortable. This is the same feeling when women were raped. From psychological research, body wants it but mind often says “no”. This made them feel unconcerned. For me, it was the same. I began touching him since he touched me. Then, I decide to tie my shorts tight so he won’t pull it down again. However, he still wants it. I just got out and try to recover my mind. During evening, we are going to leave. He goes to the restroom while I wait for him. Later, he wants me go in with him. He takes me inside a stall and pulls my pants down. Then, things got sexual. Almost had sex but I said “no”. Suddenly, people outside the stall saw us and laugh. I ran out and wash up. Later, ran downstairs; get dress and leave without him. It was the worse experience I had.

After that incident, I didn’t want to talk to him. However, he still contact me and harass me by acting he is the victim. I was too naive forgiving him by hanging out with him again. He invite me to his house and play board game. Then, said whoever lose has to strip down. Same moment, didn’t know what I’m doing. At the end, he touched me and said want to do something horny. Then, we took showers together. After shower, I said to leave because felt uncomfortable and he felt tricked. He kept acting like a victim. Weeks later, he invite me again so I give him 3rd chance; biggest mistake. We play the same same and same punishment. He lost so he was naked. At the end, he made me strip down and touch me. At time, he grab my private part and later made me come out. Body felt good but then mind is full of shame for letting him play with me. After that, I refused his other request on sex. I clean up and leave. I felt so shameful for letting him do this. Immediately, deleted his contact and off-contact him. He did this to a girl before which means he is a playboy; not looking for serious relationship.

During college, I met the same classmate last 2 years at my Chinese class. He still avoids me so I only focus on my own project. He was in my same class for 1 year. Even he does contact me to add him back, I didn’t respond. After what happen on 2016 and 2017; experience made me reject those wrong offers. I learnt my lesson from these two playboys. Same during the time at 2015, I went to a gay club. That time, family was dramatic and they argue very bad. In order to calm my stress down, I went to club and had hookup. My body wants it but mind is rejecting. Had met some guys and hookup with a guy which was a shocking experience. Fear I will get HIV. That time,I had lack of knowledge of how HIV is inject. Worries for 1 year. After testing, was so happy my result is HIV Negative.

After what happened, I took a year break. Same time, I hate those gay playboys. A year later, began to attend LGBT community to understand health and their struggles. While browsing, GAPIMNY came up. The place where gay Asians are safe to discuss their stories. After learning with them, mind gain more knowledge about Asian LGBT. Later, I attend APICHA; health centre for queer to discuss their social problems and health. After learning, I finally know how to keep myself safe and do safe sex without injecting any STDs. After so many lectures, I was ashamed for wasting my time worrying on getting HIV. Now, I would laugh at myself being so anxious.

After attending many meet ups, made new friends and safe environment to experience. Life has a fresh start. Met many kind queer friends. We hang out by attending holiday festivals. Depression and anxiety became less serious after attend many new non-profit organizations. Really thank them offering opportunity and safe space to discuss anything. Not only LGBT community; also religious community. The well-practiced religious community allows us to discuss queer topics. Furthermore, their faith is to love and bring peace. We cannot judge. There are many Christian communities who support the queer. Indeed, GAPIMNY, APICHA, and all other organizations have changed my life. Turn me from young & naive to steady person. From now on, I always observe before trusting any community or people. See if they are safe for us to be around. Many more advices received from psychologists.

Even my family is traditional, seeing me changed can let them see how good my life has become. Giving credits to the communities I’ve attend. Even today, I’m finding supportive friends because not many people want to be with me. Reasons are that I’m boring, direct, lack of knowledge on recent trends, bad memory, untalented, and not intelligent. Currently, I’m slowly learning new hobbies such as drawing, instruments, singing, dancing, and photographing. My goal is to stand up and speak out for the rights instead stay silent. This is how communities or countries kept themselves safe from someone standing up. Know what is right or wrong before speak up. For now, seeing those gay couples and muscular models; made me imagine a lovely bridge. Hope the ones who experienced similar situation as me; could find their bright side overcoming these hardships. There are a lot of stuff we have not learn. I’m also learning. After we know it, life becomes better. Not from online or opinions; from the truths.

Dear Diary,

Where do I even begin? I grew up being pretty straight as I was attracted to one of my female teachers who had the biggest knockers. But as I grew older and found gay porn (that was the jackpot), my attraction for women faded. Don’t get me wrong--I think a woman's body is beautiful, but I am simply not attracted to it anymore.

In middle school, I was at a point where I knew I wasn’t attracted to girls like other guys were. I jokingly asked a girl out once in 8th grade and she agreed. I thought having a girlfriend would make me straight again, but nope. It just reassured me that I liked men. During these years, I was horribly ashamed of my sexuality and tried my best to suppress it. Day in and day out, my biggest fear was when people asked me “Are you gay?” or “Why does your voice sound like a girl’s voice?” I feared these questions and feared being outed.

Before high school, my sexuality didn’t really matter much to me nor did I care about it. Then all the hormones hit me. I was so horny for all these jocks and football players. These thick Asian guys turned me on so much. Here and there people would make jokes about me being gay but I never officially confirmed it.

In my senior year in high school, I came out, out of nowhere. It was a Wednesday and I traveled to one of my best friend’s high school and we hung out. I had such an amazing time with her that day that it made me so happy and gave me the confidence to come out. She said she knew it all along and accepted me with open arms.

Slowly throughout my senior year, I came out to the friends of mine who mattered to me most. They all accepted me with open arms. No one hated me because of my sexuality. I never planned on coming out to my family but it just mother fucken happened.

I was crying to my sister because I was failing one of my classes during senior year, and it could jeopardize my chances of getting into college. While I was crying, my sister all of a sudden said something about people changing all the time and gave an example of her friend who changed her sexuality or came to terms with it.

I said to her while I was crying and sobbing up a damn storm, “What are you trying to say?”

She then chuckled and said to me, “Aha aha are you gay?”

Then I said “yeah” and continued sobbing for another hour.

Then I told her to tell our parents to come in here and tell them because I wanted to hear their response. Since I was crying through all this, I covered my head with my blanket, and I didn’t really get to see what their reactions were. They said to me they still loved me, but soon after that session was over, I could tell they were disappointed.

Till this very day, my parents act like that moment didn’t ever happen and they still ask me when I’ll have a girlfriend. It really frustrates me but what can I do.

Throughout high school, I actually met a mentor. I met her weekly discussing my problems and coming to solutions about them. One day she asked me if I was attracted to any of my girl friends, and I said no. Then she asked me if I was attracted to any of my guy friends, and I said no. (Because I didn’t have many guy friends, nor was I ready to come out to her)

However, several seconds later, it registered to me that clearly that is a lie. Obviously I’m not attracted to a potato, so I clearly had to be attracted to the opposite sex or the same sex. Several silent moments later, I came out to her.

Several weeks later, she actually told me she was a queer too, which stunned me. With her help, she connected me with several LGBTQ centers which kind of changed my life. Throughout my time after high school, I never really thought that I was different because of my sexuality. Then people started to tell me that I’m a double minority because I’m Vietnamese-American and gay. Till this very day, I somewhat understand this concept, but not really.

I’m currently a sophomore in college, finishing up my 4th semester in college. I’ve been free ever since high school. I never felt the need to have to come out to anyone. I will gladly tell people if they ask me if I’m gay now and I do not fear people asking me anymore. It amazes me how confident I’ve gotten about my sexuality. It doesn’t really even bother me that I’m gay actually because I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything in terms of that, which would make me consider that my sexuality is not the norm.

Ever since I graduated high school, I haven’t really had an urge to find a soul mate. I felt that I needed to find myself first. Along with that, I struggled with maintaining a close circle of friends. I truly don’t have many and am almost at a point where I would say I have none actually. So, I feel that before I get into a relationship, I would need a solid group of friends. I remember so vividly that in high school, I found a group of gay Asians in San Francisco, and it interested me so much. I felt like I wanted to be a part of their group and be able to act girly or gay whenever I wanted. I’ve always wanted guy friends but never really had any because it's hard for gay guys like me to make friends with straight guys.

Honestly, I don’t even know. My sexuality and ethnicity still has a long way to go. There’s so much more for me to explore about myself. But I’ll update you guys when things get more interesting.

Dear Diary,

“The Less I know the Better” by Tame Impala was playing on Apple Music as a good friend consoled me. I was in a space no larger than a handicapped single-stalled restroom. There was just one tiny single bed, a small TV and what you’d call a closet (but wasn’t really). There weren’t any windows and the only source of light I had was a mood lamp I bought at Ace Hardware™ in a mall called Grand Indonesia in Jakarta. I remembered I was trying to play it cool when, in truth, I was crumbling on the inside.

Earlier in the day, I had a Skype call with television development executives from Los Angeles who initially hired us to write a “diverse and progressive” series. But after a series of drafts, we found out that, like most people in a place of privilege, they weren’t as woke as they thought they were. After whitewashing and slashing the storylines that explored the complexities of being a person of color in America, they wanted us to reduce the women characters to serve the interests of the straight, male protagonist. “It’s a post-racial Millennial world” they explained. To make matters worse, the entire call was filled with attempts to other-ize me, from asking what it’s like to live in a rural village in Singapore to pointing out that my iPhone text-tone -- “ding!” -- was some kind of Asian praying bell.

Afterwards, I really wanted to email them and write: this type of behavior is ignorant and unacceptable. But, considering that I really needed the job and I had a writing partner who told me to let it go because we didn’t want to be rude, I remained silent. The silence of course, was really painful because obviously, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. In fact, it happens all the time. When people like me speak up about micro-aggressions or feeling left out, the people in power get angry and then I have to take care of their fragile feelings instead of validating my own. I’m always left feeling silenced, powerless and usually attacked for being “oversensitive.” The only thing I could do at the time was to call my friend and be temporarily consoled while listening to Tame Impala (Yes, I should’ve picked a better band for the occasion).

By this time, I had been alone in Indonesia (not Singapore) for 5 months. I was deep in pre-production on a short film called, Pria. During this time, I’d traveled across Java for months and interviewed countless gay Indonesians who either lived or had lived in rural areas. The film ended up being an amalgamation of their experiences told from their perspective, the perspective of the minority. So, within this context, the experience of that not-so-woke-ignorant phone call felt like such a step backwards, especially after being in Indonesia and realizing how ignorance of minority experiences can have such negative consequences. With these LA Execs, I met privileged people who wanted to promote and capitalize on the “global and diverse” world that “we live in right now,” but were so out of touch with the reality of what diversity really means that they ended up, perhaps unknowingly, becoming part of the problem.

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The author directs a scene on the set of Pria

Curious villagers watching the playback monitor during filming

The author and crew filming a scene in the morning

The author and producers stroll through the village “set”

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Out of all my intersectional identities, my “Asian-American-ness” has always been the hardest to fully embrace. I was born in Indonesia and moved to the US in elementary school. In Indonesia, I’m a minority because I don’t look Indonesian and I’m not Muslim. I’m mostly ethnically Chinese but none of my family members know any Chinese or anything about China. When I returned to Indonesia to do Pria, the locals there thought that I was from anywhere BUT Indonesia. When I came to the US for the first time, people were confused AF. They’d mock my accent and would always yell out “Ni Hau!” I’d try to correct them and tell them that I’m not Chinese, but that only confused the shit out of them. They would counter with the only two other Asian countries they’d heard of: Japan and Thailand (I mean really, if you wanna mock someone, get educated, people). There were definitely other FOB children at school, but most, if not all of them, were actually Chinese or Korean so they’d form their own communities out of their shared culture and language. Plus, the word FOB never felt like it applied to me; I came here on a plane, not a boat.

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(Far Right) The author with his siblings at a mall in 1996

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While I had such a confusing time trying to fit within the definition of Asian American, Gay was something that was always clear. That’s not to say that I didn’t have a hard time; like most queers, it was a process. But I always knew that I was gay and there was no question where I fit within that definition. So, when I started making “professional” short, queer films in 2011, I felt like I finally found a community that embraced me for me, for my work, and not the way I looked, or sounded, or how I presented myself. The LGBTQ film community has always supported me. Since I started, my shorts have been accepted to most LGBTQ film festivals domestically and internationally. But a troubling pattern began to emerge as I attended these festivals year after year. The majority of the films I saw were not diverse and mostly affirmed and celebrated the str8 white male ideal. There was always a lack of diversity, not only in the films, but also the filmmakers and organizers. I would always be one of the few (if not the only) minority filmmakers on the Q & A stage.

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The author attends a photocall at Frameline39: San Francisco LGBT Film Festival in 2015

The author at the Q&A for his short film, “Pipe Dream” at the Castro Theater, San Francisco (June 2015)

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This didn’t bother me at first, but after continually facing micro-aggressions at these LGBTQ festivals, in clubs, apps, and other Queer spaces, it started to really impact the way I saw myself and how I fit within the community. It already sucked enough having to deal with ignorant str8 people, but it’s much more hurtful when it comes from the community that you thought you were a part of. A community that promotes itself as being inclusive, a community that knows what invalidation feels like, and a community of film festivals run by, well, mostly people who identify as LGBTQ.

When I arrived at the centerpiece party for the 2017 Frameline: San Francisco LGBT Film Festival, the majority of the attendees were Gay White Men. I felt like I had just stumbled into an exclusive Mean Girls clique. It honestly felt like I was in a Gay club trying to scan for anyone with an interest in talking to an Asian. The way that everyone looked at me, just looking right through me, made me feel like I didn’t exist. When I told them about my short film from Indonesia, I was met with all sorts of assumptions. One sleazy, white producer from New York (who was trying to fuck an Australian actor all night) told me, “I’ve always wanted to go to Indonesia, it’s so exotic!” He then patted me on the back, “It must be so tough for the ladyboys there.” I guess even in a creative, inclusive, “safe” space like a Queer festival party, it’s as hierarchical as it would be in any other social Gay space, with whites taking the top spot. I wanted to think that this was an isolated incident because I’d been to this same exact party twice before and had a fantastic time. But, I slowly remembered, those other two times, I went with my white friends. There were, in fact, other incidents that occurred throughout the week including (but not limited to): being mistaken for another Asian on 3 different occasions and being grabbed in the ass by someone as I was leaving my Q & A (the latter could just be straight up sexual harassment and has nothing to do with race… but, in my experience, just looking like an “Asian Twink” in a Gay space usually gives other men the permission to violate our bodies...plus the Australians and Norwegian there didn’t get their asses grabbed).

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The author attends a photocall for the shorts program, “Worldly Affairs” at Frameline41: San Francisco LGBT Film Festival

The author during the Q&A session for “Pria” at the Castro Theater, San Francisco (June 2017)

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Of course, how can these white people understand wtf is going on with us “ethnic folk” if most of the films in these programs just affirm their str8-white privileged personhood ideal? There’s already a lack of Gaysians in the mainstream media and when we are ~lucky~ enough to make it on screen, we are only reduced to exotic stereotypical objects of desire or sexless, unattractive background players. If these are the only images shoved down everyone’s throat, it’s no wonder we’re always considered an Other…

Because these LGBTQ film festivals promote themselves as an inclusive safe space, this time, I decided to speak up. Surely, they would somehow understand. These organizers would know what it's like to grow up and not see (LGBTQ) characters like themselves on screen, or at least ones who weren’t child molesters, rapists, villains, creepy psychopathic old men or “sissies” serving as the butt of the joke that reduces their personhood to a minstrel show. They would understand what it would feel like to be erased, othered and/or misrepresented.

I sent out a mass email, Bcc-ing every LGBTQ festival that I’d been accepted to this year (and ones I was rejected from). In the email, I detailed how, when attending these Western festivals, I was always seen and treated as “other” because of my race. I told them how much their programming affects how LGBTQ POC are seen and treated within the general community. I tried to explain that by not including films like Pria, films from the other half of the world, in their LGBTQ Film Festivals, they are effectively erasing our stories and shutting us out. If there are minority films, we’re almost always grouped by race or by issue (why do white people only like us when we’re a cause to fight for? Even then, they want us to be a cause with hope). Are we not good enough to be part of the regular gay white programming? In times like these, programmers, the gatekeepers and privileged people in power have the responsibility to really examine what diversity means to them. Honest and complex representations of minorities are important (as well as minorities behind the scenes). This also means being strategic in programming these types of films. Not only do they determine how other people in the majority see and treat us, but they also shape the way we think and feel about ourselves.

The responses to the email were varied. “Seriously. Well-put,” said one LGBTQ festival. The rest refused to consider my point of view and instead resorted to belittling me and accusing me of being bitter for not having gained a spot in their program (like, honey, please. I sent the email to festivals that I DID get into too). But, to be honest, I am fucking bitter. These invalidating responses automatically reminded me of what happened in Indonesia a year before: that Skype call with the executives, and the many other times where I was either whitesplained and/or mansplained.

So yes. I’m absolutely bitter and I’m fucking angry.

How can I not be when I see these LGBTQ programmers complain about Donald Trump or say that they’re promoting diversity when their actions (or inaction) speak otherwise? Diversity isn’t just literally black and white, it’s something more complex; it occupies the gray area in the middle. Many people seem to think that just because you put a handful of Black people on screen (there are OTHER races too, you know?) and showcase minority “issue” films (on Gay refugees, Gays in the Middle-East, etc.), they can solve racism and inequality.

In truth, however, the work is far from being done. It doesn’t matter how many POCs are on screen if we are only reduced to stereotypes or, in the opposite case, neutered to the point where our complex experiences are distilled to white-people-cause-of-the-moment or worse, erased altogether. I just want to see my goddamn experiences represented accurately and truthfully.

I know that the work is hard. We have to dismantle a system of oppression that has been in place for hundreds of years that’s still an ongoing problem not just within the LGBTQ community but society at large. But, still, I expected better from our own community. How can a community that is fighting for equality perpetuate a system that promotes the invalidation of members within their own community?

It’s a system that allows for my bosses in LA to ignorantly make insensitive comments about my race via Skype.

It’s a system that enables a white, friend-of-a-friend at a Thanksgiving party to confidently assume, because of where I met the host, my appearance, and my non-English name, that it was my first Thanksgiving.

It’s a system that excuses gays when they put “No Asians” on their Grindr profiles and justify it as just “preference.”

It’s a system that allows an African American drag queen in New York to call me up on stage and mock my race and question my Americanness, while excusing such behavior as jest.

It’s a system where, when I was 17, a white, visiting professor took me to his home and raped me, assuming that I wanted it because I’m a “submissive Asian Bottom” who should’ve “relaxed more so that it would’ve felt better.”

It’s a system where, if I do speak up against the people in power who are supposedly on my side, I’d be dismissed and made to feel that I was the problem, that I was the one who was being overly sensitive and needed to check my feelings.

But, the thing is, I’ve been checking my feelings. I’ve been checking my damn feelings every day of my life. And you know what? I’m tired. I’m tired of them saying, “I can’t be racist or ignorant, I have black friends...” or “You obviously haven’t seen our program, we have an eye for colored people!” or whatever dumb-fuck excuse they use to deflect from the actual problem and validate their inaction/behavior/ignorance. It’s time for them to check their own damn feelings and realize that for real change to happen, they need to shut the hell up and listen. I’m sure they’re all well-meaning, but in the end, good intentions won’t matter much when the results are tone-deaf and continue to facilitate segregation and inequality.

I think that as we gain more acceptance within the mainstream, those who are now in a place of privilege tend to forget what it felt like to be in the minority. They forget those in the past who helped fight for our rights, they forget other members of their own communities who are still suffering, they forget what it felt like to be degraded for who they truly are, they forget what the real MO of the LGBTQ community is: Equality. There isn’t just one answer that will fix this Racism problem. The work needs to be highly personal and it starts with examining our own selves. It starts with listening to other members of the community without preconceived judgments and really examining the whys and hows of this system (of privilege) operating within our own lives. And look, I really get it. It’s hard to ask yourself why you’re not attracted to Asians, or why you’re still repulsed by femininity, or why this minority still feels left out when you went out of your way to create a safe space for them. We all want to believe that we’re fighting and living for the right things. And I think it’s now time to stop believing and start doing the real work.

As the Tame Impala song came to a close, I stared intently at my Ace Hardware™ Lamp. It was my only source of (literal and somewhat figurative) light, so after being in this dark room holding in my feelings, the warm glow of the light was oddly comforting. I started sobbing and my friend said, “Don’t worry they’re just hypocritical wannabe-liberal white execs… What else can you do?”

“But..,” I responded. “One of them is black.”

With much love, forever and always, Yudho Vanderhof Aditya

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