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www.canada.com/theprovince/news/unwind/story.html?id=26eb34d4-caa9-4f60-a5cc-859dbc390f3e&p=1
Led by activists in B.C., India and elsewhere, a revolution in sexual attitude is under way in this community
Elaine O'Connor, The Vancouver Province
Published: Sunday, July 13, 2008
Rowing Up, Abbotsford's Harry Grewal thought he didn't exist.
The 24-year-old began to suspect that he was gay as a teenager, but as the only son of a Sikh family, he was convinced it just wasn't possible.
"There is no such thing as a gay East Indian male. There is no word for it," the Rick Hansen Secondary grad recalls. "I live in Abbotsford, so there isn't much for gay support as it is. And for South Asians, being gay is not discussed. I always considered it to be a phase. I thought I would get married and then just get one of these urges on the side."
That would have been easier. But by age 18, Grewal could no longer ignore his urges. He came out to friends. He found support. He told his parents in October.
"Eventually, I just faced it. If I ever did get married to a girl, it would ruin her life. That's what it came down to: being truthful to myself and accepting who I am.
"Grewal's struggle is not unique.
The South Asian community (residents with backgrounds in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Nepal, Bhutan, Sri Lanka and the Maldives) is among the most traditional and family-oriented in B.C. Bonds of culture and religion (South Asians are often, but not exclusively Hindu, Sikh or Muslim) have created close communities -- but also conservative ones that can resist non-traditional lifestyles.
As a result, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered South Asians can find themselves torn between their cultural and religious beliefs and their true sexual selves. The result can be torment for closeted members in the community, says Amar Sangha, 36, a gay Sikh who grew up in Surrey.
"For the Sikh people, it's their culture that says homosexuality is bad and wrong. It's a real barrier for people. I know when I was coming out, I was very suicidal and I was very depressed and very closeted.
"The pressure to do what's expected leads many gay South Asians to bow to family pressure and marry and have children, often with tragic consequences, Sangha says.
"A lot of these people are so closeted they end up getting married and having affairs. Some of them bring HIV and STDs home to their wives and unborn children, so it becomes a health issue. Children [who are questioning their sexuality] might be suicidal. We don't want death in the community. We don't want loneliness and isolation and depression. So it's really important for the community to know about homophobia. It affects everyone.
"Homophobia remains a reality in Western culture and South Asian and Muslim society. Case in point? A UN resolution against sexual discrimination was rejected by five Muslim countries. B.C. Sikh leader Balwant Singh Gill openly condemned homosexuality in the media last year (later apologizing).
But with the help of local B.C. activists and growing acceptance of gays in South Asian countries, attitudes are starting to change.
As a gay Sikh teen, Sangha wrestled with his faith and sexuality.
The Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy book, espouses tolerance and doesn't expressly forbid homosexuality, but Sikh culture, Sangha says, doesn't embrace it or talk about it.
So the then-14-year- old endured three years of therapy, trying to become straight. The therapy failed. Away from family pressures, he came out in university. Eventually, his mother and some family came to terms with his identity. Now he's living happily in North Delta, working as a therapist himself.
But it wasn't easy. So Sangha decided to help others. The result was Sher Vancouver, a queer Sikh support group he founded in April. It already has 50 mostly Sikh members (including five women) from around B.C.
"I founded Sher because I didn't want people to say that there were no gay Sikhs and that homosexuality is not an issue within the Sikh community. I also wanted queer Sikhs to be visible in the community," Sangha said in a recent interview. "I did not want them to remain silent any longer.
" They're not. Sher members plan to march in this summer's Pride Parade -- maybe in turbans and dancing to bhangara music.
But their reception in the Sikh community has been mixed. A recent Red FM online pool asked B.C. listeners if they would support a gay Sikh group.
Eighteen per cent said yes; 82 per cent said no.
Sher Vancouver is the newest of several such support groups, among them Trikone, a group for LGBT South Asians of all religions; Saalam Vancouver, for gay Muslims of all sects and ethnicities; and Namaste, for queer B.C. Hindus.
Trikone Vancouver co-ordinator Fatima Jaffer, 46, says Trikone, modelled after U.S. groups and launched here in 2005, serves as a refuge for South Asians.
"Growing up, I had never heard the word lesbian. I thought there was something wrong with me and I needed to have a sex-change operation or something," she recalls.
Jaffer, an Ismaili lesbian of Kutchi (Indian) ancestry who grew up in Kenya, had never met a South Asian lesbian until she moved to Vancouver in her 20s.
She promptly came out.
"When people see other people coming out from the same culture, they begin to believe it is possible for them. They get that sense of relief that they're not the only one.
"That's Trikone's goal. Today, the group has 130 members and won a 2008 award for its work with queer South Asians from Xtra West, a Vancouver gay and lesbian publication.
Saalam Vancouver provides similar services for Muslims (Sunnis, Shias, Ismailis, Sufis and Ahmadis) from South Asia, Africa and Arab nations, says organizer Imtiaz Popat.
The group, which also helps persecuted gay refugees to flee to Canada, grew out of Salaam Canada (motto: "Liberating tradition, celebrating culture"), which was founded in the late 1990s. They help B.C. Muslims reconcile their identity and faith, as many Muslims believe homosexuality is prohibited by the Qur'an.
"Until this started, a lot of people had to choose one or the other, queer or Muslim. Now we are giving people options. They can be both queer and Muslim. People can find accommodation between their sexual identity and their belief system," says Popat, 45, a radio host.
Even so, Popat says, members "aren't very open about who we are, even if we're out to close family and friends. It's not something that's advertised. It's a different culture than in the West.
" Popat and other activists share a desire for funding and a wish for more targeted programs to improve the health and welfare of gay South Asians and Muslims in B.C.
Brian O'Neill, a UBC associate professor and director of the school of social work and family studies, agrees there's not much out there.
He has just finished a study of supports for queer immigrants and refugees (including South Asians) in B.C. O'Neill, who is gay, and his co-author, Camela Sproule, who is of South Asian heritage, found many wouldn't say that they were gay, so no services were offered.
"One of the main needs we identified was overcoming isolation. They've already left home, so they are isolated in one sense. And if they are queer, they feel isolated from their culture. They can go to mainstream gay groups, but feel isolated as an ethnic and racial minority. They end up feeling isolated in their ethnic community and isolated in the gay community," O'Neill says.
In South Asia, there are signs homosexuality is going mainstream.Several celebrities have come out.
Former journalist Ashok Row Kavi came out first, in 1986, and was the first Indian to talk about gay rights.
In 2006, prince Manavendra Singh Gohil made history as the first openly gay member of royal lineage, when he came out following a failed marriage to a woman he was pressured to wed in the 1990s.
Indian novelist Vikram Seth, newly open about his bisexuality, told an Indian magazine: "In a case where the happiness . . . of 50 million people and their right not to be fearful or lonely and to be with people whom they love is at issue . . . then it really is incumbent on us to speak out.
"Others are speaking out, too.
Delhi held its first gay pride parade last month, with 1,000 people chanting in the streets (some wearing rainbow face masks to hide their identity), demanding a repeal of laws making homosexuality an offense punishable by up to 10 years in prison.
In India, transgendered people, or hijras, have always had a place -- albeit beyond the pale -- in Indian society. But in recent years, several hijras have been elected to office: Shabnam Mausi became India's first hijra MLA in 1999, just five years after hijras won the right to vote. Others have followed in municipal and state politics.
The first Indian transgendered talk-show host, Rose, just hit the air on Vijay TV.
In Nepal, 11 gay men and women ran for political office in April, though "unnatural sex" is illegal and offenders can be jailed for a year. Sunil Babu Pant, founder of the country's gay advocacy group, won, making history as Nepal's first openly gay lawmaker.
Pop culture and recent films are also helping break the silence.
In 2002, Bollywood's Mango Souffle, by director Mahesh Dattani, explored the life of a gay male fashion designer. My Brother ... Nikhil, a 2005 film, followed a gay Indian man's struggle with HIV.
A Touch of Pink told the story of a gay South Asian Muslim man being pushed into marriage.
Toronto filmmaker Ian Iqba Rashid said he made it because "there are a lot of gays and lesbians who are getting married and having children. They are leading double lives and it's very painful. And rather than sweep it under the rug it's time to . . . address it.
"Documentaries such as 2006's Gay Muslims, by British director Cara Lavan, and 2007's A Jihad for Love, by director Parvez Sharma, have also broken new ground.
Breaking new ground is exactly what Harry Grewal hopes to do as part of the next generation of proud gay South Asians in B.C.
Coming out, he says, "was a weight lifted off my shoulders."
"I'm able to focus my life on other things rather than constantly worrying," Grewal says.
Now, he's ready for the next step.
"If I do find somebody that I want to marry, I will. I look forward to the obstacle of trying to plan a somewhat traditional Indian wedding. I don't think it would be in a temple, probably just a civil ceremony, but with the full reception and all that."
"It would be a fun challenge."
eoconnor@png. canwest.com
© The Vancouver Province 2008
Led by activists in B.C., India and elsewhere, a revolution in sexual attitude is under way in this community
Elaine O'Connor, The Vancouver Province
Published: Sunday, July 13, 2008
Rowing Up, Abbotsford's Harry Grewal thought he didn't exist.
The 24-year-old began to suspect that he was gay as a teenager, but as the only son of a Sikh family, he was convinced it just wasn't possible.
"There is no such thing as a gay East Indian male. There is no word for it," the Rick Hansen Secondary grad recalls. "I live in Abbotsford, so there isn't much for gay support as it is. And for South Asians, being gay is not discussed. I always considered it to be a phase. I thought I would get married and then just get one of these urges on the side."
That would have been easier. But by age 18, Grewal could no longer ignore his urges. He came out to friends. He found support. He told his parents in October.
"Eventually, I just faced it. If I ever did get married to a girl, it would ruin her life. That's what it came down to: being truthful to myself and accepting who I am.
"Grewal's struggle is not unique.
The South Asian community (residents with backgrounds in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Nepal, Bhutan, Sri Lanka and the Maldives) is among the most traditional and family-oriented in B.C. Bonds of culture and religion (South Asians are often, but not exclusively Hindu, Sikh or Muslim) have created close communities -- but also conservative ones that can resist non-traditional lifestyles.
As a result, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered South Asians can find themselves torn between their cultural and religious beliefs and their true sexual selves. The result can be torment for closeted members in the community, says Amar Sangha, 36, a gay Sikh who grew up in Surrey.
"For the Sikh people, it's their culture that says homosexuality is bad and wrong. It's a real barrier for people. I know when I was coming out, I was very suicidal and I was very depressed and very closeted.
"The pressure to do what's expected leads many gay South Asians to bow to family pressure and marry and have children, often with tragic consequences, Sangha says.
"A lot of these people are so closeted they end up getting married and having affairs. Some of them bring HIV and STDs home to their wives and unborn children, so it becomes a health issue. Children [who are questioning their sexuality] might be suicidal. We don't want death in the community. We don't want loneliness and isolation and depression. So it's really important for the community to know about homophobia. It affects everyone.
"Homophobia remains a reality in Western culture and South Asian and Muslim society. Case in point? A UN resolution against sexual discrimination was rejected by five Muslim countries. B.C. Sikh leader Balwant Singh Gill openly condemned homosexuality in the media last year (later apologizing).
But with the help of local B.C. activists and growing acceptance of gays in South Asian countries, attitudes are starting to change.
As a gay Sikh teen, Sangha wrestled with his faith and sexuality.
The Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy book, espouses tolerance and doesn't expressly forbid homosexuality, but Sikh culture, Sangha says, doesn't embrace it or talk about it.
So the then-14-year- old endured three years of therapy, trying to become straight. The therapy failed. Away from family pressures, he came out in university. Eventually, his mother and some family came to terms with his identity. Now he's living happily in North Delta, working as a therapist himself.
But it wasn't easy. So Sangha decided to help others. The result was Sher Vancouver, a queer Sikh support group he founded in April. It already has 50 mostly Sikh members (including five women) from around B.C.
"I founded Sher because I didn't want people to say that there were no gay Sikhs and that homosexuality is not an issue within the Sikh community. I also wanted queer Sikhs to be visible in the community," Sangha said in a recent interview. "I did not want them to remain silent any longer.
" They're not. Sher members plan to march in this summer's Pride Parade -- maybe in turbans and dancing to bhangara music.
But their reception in the Sikh community has been mixed. A recent Red FM online pool asked B.C. listeners if they would support a gay Sikh group.
Eighteen per cent said yes; 82 per cent said no.
Sher Vancouver is the newest of several such support groups, among them Trikone, a group for LGBT South Asians of all religions; Saalam Vancouver, for gay Muslims of all sects and ethnicities; and Namaste, for queer B.C. Hindus.
Trikone Vancouver co-ordinator Fatima Jaffer, 46, says Trikone, modelled after U.S. groups and launched here in 2005, serves as a refuge for South Asians.
"Growing up, I had never heard the word lesbian. I thought there was something wrong with me and I needed to have a sex-change operation or something," she recalls.
Jaffer, an Ismaili lesbian of Kutchi (Indian) ancestry who grew up in Kenya, had never met a South Asian lesbian until she moved to Vancouver in her 20s.
She promptly came out.
"When people see other people coming out from the same culture, they begin to believe it is possible for them. They get that sense of relief that they're not the only one.
"That's Trikone's goal. Today, the group has 130 members and won a 2008 award for its work with queer South Asians from Xtra West, a Vancouver gay and lesbian publication.
Saalam Vancouver provides similar services for Muslims (Sunnis, Shias, Ismailis, Sufis and Ahmadis) from South Asia, Africa and Arab nations, says organizer Imtiaz Popat.
The group, which also helps persecuted gay refugees to flee to Canada, grew out of Salaam Canada (motto: "Liberating tradition, celebrating culture"), which was founded in the late 1990s. They help B.C. Muslims reconcile their identity and faith, as many Muslims believe homosexuality is prohibited by the Qur'an.
"Until this started, a lot of people had to choose one or the other, queer or Muslim. Now we are giving people options. They can be both queer and Muslim. People can find accommodation between their sexual identity and their belief system," says Popat, 45, a radio host.
Even so, Popat says, members "aren't very open about who we are, even if we're out to close family and friends. It's not something that's advertised. It's a different culture than in the West.
" Popat and other activists share a desire for funding and a wish for more targeted programs to improve the health and welfare of gay South Asians and Muslims in B.C.
Brian O'Neill, a UBC associate professor and director of the school of social work and family studies, agrees there's not much out there.
He has just finished a study of supports for queer immigrants and refugees (including South Asians) in B.C. O'Neill, who is gay, and his co-author, Camela Sproule, who is of South Asian heritage, found many wouldn't say that they were gay, so no services were offered.
"One of the main needs we identified was overcoming isolation. They've already left home, so they are isolated in one sense. And if they are queer, they feel isolated from their culture. They can go to mainstream gay groups, but feel isolated as an ethnic and racial minority. They end up feeling isolated in their ethnic community and isolated in the gay community," O'Neill says.
In South Asia, there are signs homosexuality is going mainstream.Several celebrities have come out.
Former journalist Ashok Row Kavi came out first, in 1986, and was the first Indian to talk about gay rights.
In 2006, prince Manavendra Singh Gohil made history as the first openly gay member of royal lineage, when he came out following a failed marriage to a woman he was pressured to wed in the 1990s.
Indian novelist Vikram Seth, newly open about his bisexuality, told an Indian magazine: "In a case where the happiness . . . of 50 million people and their right not to be fearful or lonely and to be with people whom they love is at issue . . . then it really is incumbent on us to speak out.
"Others are speaking out, too.
Delhi held its first gay pride parade last month, with 1,000 people chanting in the streets (some wearing rainbow face masks to hide their identity), demanding a repeal of laws making homosexuality an offense punishable by up to 10 years in prison.
In India, transgendered people, or hijras, have always had a place -- albeit beyond the pale -- in Indian society. But in recent years, several hijras have been elected to office: Shabnam Mausi became India's first hijra MLA in 1999, just five years after hijras won the right to vote. Others have followed in municipal and state politics.
The first Indian transgendered talk-show host, Rose, just hit the air on Vijay TV.
In Nepal, 11 gay men and women ran for political office in April, though "unnatural sex" is illegal and offenders can be jailed for a year. Sunil Babu Pant, founder of the country's gay advocacy group, won, making history as Nepal's first openly gay lawmaker.
Pop culture and recent films are also helping break the silence.
In 2002, Bollywood's Mango Souffle, by director Mahesh Dattani, explored the life of a gay male fashion designer. My Brother ... Nikhil, a 2005 film, followed a gay Indian man's struggle with HIV.
A Touch of Pink told the story of a gay South Asian Muslim man being pushed into marriage.
Toronto filmmaker Ian Iqba Rashid said he made it because "there are a lot of gays and lesbians who are getting married and having children. They are leading double lives and it's very painful. And rather than sweep it under the rug it's time to . . . address it.
"Documentaries such as 2006's Gay Muslims, by British director Cara Lavan, and 2007's A Jihad for Love, by director Parvez Sharma, have also broken new ground.
Breaking new ground is exactly what Harry Grewal hopes to do as part of the next generation of proud gay South Asians in B.C.
Coming out, he says, "was a weight lifted off my shoulders."
"I'm able to focus my life on other things rather than constantly worrying," Grewal says.
Now, he's ready for the next step.
"If I do find somebody that I want to marry, I will. I look forward to the obstacle of trying to plan a somewhat traditional Indian wedding. I don't think it would be in a temple, probably just a civil ceremony, but with the full reception and all that."
"It would be a fun challenge."
eoconnor@png. canwest.com
© The Vancouver Province 2008