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Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights: 5 Violence and LGBT human rights in Guyana

Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights
5 Violence and LGBT human rights in Guyana
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table of contents
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Acknowledgements
  6. List of figures and tables
  7. Abbreviations
  8. Notes on contributors
  9. Foreword
  10. Overview
  11. PART 1. Between empathy and contempt: colonial legacies, neoliberalism and neo-colonialism
  12. 1 Vacillating between empathy and contempt: the Indian judiciary and LGBT rights
  13. 2 Expanded criminalisation of consensual same-sex relations in Africa: contextualising recent developments
  14. 3 Policing borders and sexual/gender identities: queer refugees in the years of Canadian neoliberalism and homonationalism
  15. 4 Queer affirmations: negotiating the possibilities and limits of sexual citizenship in Saint Lucia
  16. 5 Violence and LGBT human rights in Guyana
  17. 6 Cultural discourse in Africa and the promise of human rights based on non-normative sexuality and/or gender expression: exploring the intersections, challenges and opportunities
  18. 7 Haven or precarity? The mental health of LGBT asylum seekers and refugees in Canada
  19. PART 2. Resilience, resistance and hope: organising for social change
  20. 8 The rise of SOGI: human rights for LGBT people at the United Nations
  21. 9 Resistance to criminalisation, and social movement organising to advance LGBT rights in Belize
  22. 10 The multifaceted struggle against the Anti-Homosexuality Act in Uganda
  23. 11 Emergent momentum for equality: LGBT visibility and organising in Kenya
  24. 12 Kuchu resilience and resistance in Uganda: a history
  25. 13 Gender theatre: the politics of exclusion and belonging in Kenya
  26. 14 Telling Our Stories: Envisioning participatory documentary
  27. Appendix: Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights participatory documentaries
  28. Index

5

Violence and LGBT human rights in Guyana

Pere DeRoy with Namela Baynes Henry

Once the law’s there, still on the book – nobody would feel comfortable
Quincy ‘Gulliver’ McEwan (2012)1

Same-sex intercourse, sodomy and cross-dressing have been illegal or prohibited in Guyana since the beginning of the country’s colonial era to the present. Laws against sodomy were introduced as part of Roman Dutch legislation during the Dutch colonial era and were continued under British common law during the British colonial era (Carrico, 2012, p. 8). Guyana inherited its legal structure from European colonial powers and maintained many of these laws after gaining independence in 1966, and well after the past government (under the administration of the People’s Progressive Party/Civic) initiated a constitutional reform between 2000 and 2001, which shaped the current 2003 Constitution of Guyana. Emerging from this legal backdrop are mechanisms for shaping and monitoring social norms regulating sexuality in Guyana. The parameters of the legal structure in Guyana additionally shape the construction of the current cultural, socioeconomic and political landscapes of the country. Moreover, this inherited legal structure allows us to understand: 1) how social structures2 create degrees of vulnerabilities and marginalisation for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender (LGBT) persons; and 2) how these same structures have the potential to activate positive change in the lives of people who identify as LGBT in Guyana.

This chapter provides an analysis of how current criminal law acts in Guyana have affected the wellbeing3 of its citizens who identify as LGBT, in an effort to advocate for conditions that ensure their human rights and security. In addition, it presents a picture to help the government clearly grasp how these laws have played a major role in the formation and maintenance of social norms that stigmatise and discriminate against LGBT persons in all areas of Guyanese society. To inform its analysis, the chapter draws on 25 face-to-face interviews conducted in the country in 2012 by the Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights team (Envisioning) in partnership with the Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination (SASOD). The interviews recount the daily experiences and opinions of LGBT Guyanese mobilised across varied backgrounds related to race, gender, sexual orientation, economic situation, locale and education. It is written from the perspective of a young Guyanese student pursuing graduate studies at York University with support from a grassroots human rights activist and Envisioning community researcher. The latter has been organising in Guyana on behalf of LGBT persons for more than 20 years, and has also mobilised at the local, regional and international levels, to challenge laws and sociocultural values that have been marginalising and oppressing the LGBT community, and disciplining people’s sexuality and identity.

Context

The Co-operative Republic of Guyana is a multicultural postcolonial society with a population of 746,955, comprising an indigenous population, descendants of people who came to Guyana primarily as slaves or indentured labourers, and others. Thus, as well as its original inhabitants, the backgrounds of its people range from Europe/Portugal and Africa (referred to as Afro-Guyanese) to China and India (referred to as Indo-Guyanese). These diverse groups are fused together by the English language, although indigenous languages are also spoken.4

Guyana is an English-speaking country on the Northeast coast of South America. It shares borders with Suriname, Venezuela and Brazil, and covers nearly 215,000 square kilometres. Its capital, Georgetown, is located on the Atlantic coast. Although Guyana is geographically located in South America, its plantation history and shared cultural history of British colonialism situates it within the English-speaking Caribbean community (Caricom, which stands for the Caribbean Community and Common Market). The plantation history of Caricom is largely responsible for shared social, cultural, economic and political relations, and institutions that shape the realities of those living in Caricom’s member countries. A former colony of the French, Dutch and British, Guyana is one of the 11 countries5 (Carrico, 2012, p. 6) in this region where British colonialism introduced laws criminalising same-sex relationships and cross-dressing, and it is the only country in South America that criminalises sex between men (Glickhouse and Keller, 2012). Breaching these laws has a range of penalties, for example, in Guyana two years to life imprisonment, and in Barbados life imprisonment for ‘buggery’, and up to ten years for ‘serious indecency’ (Jones, 2013).

Criminal laws – discriminatory laws

According to Melinda Jankie:6

Guyana has a very good Constitution, and we have incorporated many human rights conventions, human rights treaties, [for example] conventions of all forms of racial discrimination, elimination [of ] discrimination against women, the international convention of civil rights. So [the] basic framework is … there.

I think the main challenge here is out-of-date legislation and out-of-date attitudes, based on ignorance, fear of other, [and a] combination of other [issues that] led to actions and activities that are totally unacceptable and discriminate against people who are LGBT.

LGBT individuals living in Guyana have had a long struggle for equal rights and acceptance. Two illustrations of this struggle (Kissoon, 2013) date back to 1959 (when Guyana was still a British colony referred to as British Guiana) and 1968 (after the country had gained independence and was renamed the Cooperative Republic of Guyana). In the first situation, two gay men were arrested and charged for attempting to marry. Interestingly, in their later attempt at a public wedding, the police did not intervene. In 1968 a young person – who would have been considered male at birth – was arrested for wearing a miniskirt (Kissoon, 2013). In both cases, these individuals challenged the heteronormative codes of sexual orientation and gender identity, including gender expression (SOGIE). They were arrested and charged, and the legal structure and medical system perceived them as − and treated them as − either criminals or mentally ill; indeed, the court sent the young cross-dresser for psychiatric treatment (ibid.). These cases demonstrate how identification outside of heterosexuality was regarded as deviant, and behaviour aligning with this deviation warranted a criminal law response. Similar struggles may have occurred prior to 1959, but there is no record of them.

In attempting to understand why these individuals were viewed in this way and subjected to such treatment, it is important to recognise the perceptions of cross-dressing and same-sex relations that were prevalent during this period, and how they affected the lives of persons who identify outside of the acceptable heterosexuality norm. Although Kissoon recognises that several cultural and social factors influence homophobia and transphobia – such as religious conservatism, mainstream media, normative family structures and culture – he argues that laws are primarily responsible for the formation and maintenance of social norms in all areas of society, at the individual, organisational and institutional levels.

Guyana has laws against ‘buggery/sodomy’, ‘gross indecency’ and homosexual behaviour, which profoundly influence discourses about sexuality in private and public spheres of social life. They particularly discourage any acceptance of and/or tolerance for diverse sexual orientations and gender identities, regarding them as a threat to deep-rooted social norms of heterosexism and heteronormativity as the social fabric of Guyanese society. Inherited from the colonial era, ‘sodomy laws’ (using the term ‘buggery’) were included in Guyana’s Criminal Law (Offences) Act (8:01) of 1893, and have remained unchanged. Sections 352 to 354 of that act criminalise consensual intimacy between men in private. The first of those sections penalises acts of ‘gross indecency’ between men in these terms: ‘any male person who, in public or private, commits, or is a party to the commission, or procures or attempts to procure the commission, by any male person, of any act of gross indecency with any other male person shall be guilty of misdemeanour and liable to imprisonment for two years’ (Caricco, 2012, p. 8). Section 353 states that ‘everyone who (a) attempts to commit buggery; or (b) assaults anyone with intent to commit buggery; or (c) being a male, indecently assaults any other male person, shall be guilty of felony and liable to imprisonment for ten years’ (ibid.). This section refers to both consensual and non-consensual homosexual acts between males, as well as attempts at ‘buggery’ between homosexuals and heterosexuals, regardless of consent. Section 354 of the act reads: ‘Everyone who commits buggery, either with a human being or with any other living creature, shall be guilty of felony and liable to imprisonment for life’ (ibid.). Since the laws specifically speak to the illegality of same-sex relations between men, one could argue that same-sex relations between women are legal in Guyana. However, Christopher Carrico argues that, in more recent years, sexual offences laws have more clearly identified men having sex with men and women having sex with women as the subjects of these laws designed to deal with ‘unnatural offence’, buggery, sodomy and ‘indecency’ (ibid., p. 1).

Unlike these laws, under the Criminal Law (Offences) Act, cross-dressing is listed as a minor offence in the Summary Jurisdiction (Offences) Act (8:02). Section 153 (1) (xlvii) states that a man wearing ‘female attire’ or a woman wearing ‘male attire’ in public may face prosecution and conviction – or they may be fined by the court (SASOD, 2014, p. 3). These laws seem to punish those who threaten gender norms, such as feminine-presenting men and masculine-presenting women.

According to the report prepared by SASOD for the 21st Round of the Universal Periodic Review (UPR):

Despite having the constitutional right to the freedom of expression (Article 146), LGBT persons oftentimes choose not to express their orientations and identities because they are threatened, discriminated against and victimised. Transgender persons are expressly forbidden from expressing their gender identity because of Section 153 (1) (xlvii) of the Summary Jurisdiction (Offences) Act, which makes it an offence of cross-gender dressing. This violates rights to human dignity, freedom of expression and protection from discrimination based on gender.

As a result of this law, transgender persons face high levels of direct discrimination and targeted violence from both the police and private actors (citizens). (p. 6)

The report then gives an example of this discrimination by drawing on a case from April 2014:

Two transgender sex workers were injured in a drive-by shooting by assailants using pellet guns. Even though the victims have reported the matter to the police and they have provided vital information which helps to identity the assailants, the police took over a month to charge the perpetrators. (ibid.)

Moreover, on September 6 2013, Chief Justice Ian Chang issuing his ruling in the case of Quincy McEwan, Seon Clarke, Joseph Fraser, Seyon Persaud and the Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination (SASOD) vs. Attorney General of Guyana on Section 153(1) (xlvii) of the Summary Jurisdiction (Offences) Chapter 8:02 which stated that cross-dressing in a public place is an offence only if it is done for an improper purpose. This ruling while seen as a minor victory for the transgender Guyanese, as the Chief Justice states that cross-dressing to express sexual orientation or gender identity could never be an offense, it is still very unclear as he did not say what the term ‘improper purpose’ means.7

This partial victory has not been accompanied with sensitisation to counter prejudice and discrimination perpetrated in Guyana, and basically undermines the freedom of expression of certain groups of people. Two short films, Sade’s Story and Selina’s Voice, created by SASOD and Envisioning, capture the impact of the cross-dressing law and the challenges visited upon individuals who cross-dress as an aspect of their gender identity.

Sade’s Story looks at the Constitutional Court ruling banning cross-dressing and the impact of the law, through the eyes of Sade Richardson, a transgender fashion designer. The film also explores how the cross-dressing law created conditions conducive to the violation of Sade’s basic human rights. Violence often occurs when individuals recognise or perceive that the person before them is a man dressed effeminately or in female attire. Sade relates experiencing violence when using public transport to go to work, and facing cultural and structural violence when trying to access healthcare and advocating for fair treatment in the workplace. Sade says, ‘Honestly, I would not be surprised if tomorrow somebody kills me and my body’s found somewhere’ and recounts an experience one morning while waiting for a minibus to travel to work:

There were two [men]. One said to the other, ‘That’s the anti-man. You see how she’s dressing? I told you, let’s beat her, let’s beat her’. The other man replied, ‘That’s not a woman! That’s a man! Let’s beat him’. Then one came over to me and said they must never see me at night, because they would make sure they kill me. Nobody can do anything about it, police or nobody can do anything about it. And that’s the thing that stayed in my mind. He is right! They can beat me and kill me or do me whatever, and police and nobody can do anything about it. That’s the mentality most of them have. It’s OK to throw things at me. It’s OK for buses to kick me out. It’s OK to make me feel fucked up every day, because there is nothing anybody can do about it.

In Selina’s Voice, Selina Maria Perez, a transgender woman, reflects on growing up and being singled out for not behaving like most of her peers (boys), and ‘feeling like a freak’, especially as it was impossible to find information that would help her to better understand herself.8 As a result, she became very shy and introverted, because she felt that expressing herself in the way she wished to would probably get her into trouble as such behaviour was not encouraged. She reflects on how family and neighbours would say ‘speak up like a man’, when she was merely speaking in her natural voice. Her experience of being silenced as a youth encouraged her to study and to engage in advocacy work for people like herself and others in vulnerable positions. Selina then goes on to chronicle the direct violence she experienced as she engaged in LGBT advocacy work. One incident made her feel ‘like a dog knocked down on the road and left to die’ after being attacked by a group of men for refusing to engage in sexual relations, and being refused services by police and healthcare workers at a public hospital in Georgetown.

These laws undermine the constitutional goal to ensure the fundamental rights and freedoms of citizens. ‘Fundamental rights’ are enshrined in the Guyanese Constitution and protect its citizens from discrimination and unfair conduct by the executive, judicial and legislative branches of the state, so they can live freely. The state is expected to perform the ‘duty of protecting every member of society from injustice or oppression’ (Heilbroner, 1992, p. 53), and ensuring an individual’s fundamental rights are not violated. But they cannot be enforced between private citizens or members of the private sector (Guyana Association of Women Lawyers, 2011). Enshrined in Article 149 of the fundamental rights section of the 1980 Constitution, is the constitutional goal to protect Guyanese citizens from discrimination ‘on the grounds of race, place of origin, political opinion, colour, creed, age, disability, marital status (whether single or married), sex, gender, language, birth, social class, pregnancy, religion, conscience, belief or culture’ (ibid.). However, discrimination ‘on the grounds of sexual orientation’ or gender identity/expression has not been included as a fundamental right in Guyana’s Constitution (Kissoon, 2013), even though protection of the individual’s right to life is enshrined in its fundamental rights section (Article 138), as well as protection from slavery or forced labour (Article 140); protection from torture, inhuman or degrading or other treatment (Article 141); protection against arbitrary search or entry (Article 143); and the right to a healthy environment (Article 149). With the protection of these rights, one might assume that an environment would be facilitated where all Guyanese citizens could secure their wellbeing.

Laws against sodomy and cross-dressing, and the exclusion of protection of an individual’s right to engage in homosexual acts, stigmatise, discriminate against and criminalise that person and deny them their fundamental human rights. These laws contradict or undermine a basic principle of human rights, which is to ensure all people are equal in dignity and entitled to the same fundamental rights, and that no one is expected to have more rights than another person, especially on the grounds enumerated in the Constitution of Guyana. In addition, these laws and the omission of SOGIE signal a prejudice against and exclusion of some groups of people, and imply that the unfair treatment of certain groups of people is constitutional.

This conflicting dynamic is heightened by the fact that Guyana is a signatory to several international human rights instruments, seven9 of which enshrine the basic principles of human rights (SASOD, 2014, p. 2). More specifically, these laws undermine fundamental rights and basic human rights principles and result directly in significant levels of direct, cultural and structural violence, and the automatic configuration of a group of people as criminals and outsiders on the basis of their SOGIE.

Discriminatory laws and violence in Guyana

According to one respondent, Leon I. Allen,10

You have to not just be mentally strong but physically strong to deal with society when you decide to be yourself, because then you’ll be bullied, and then if you can’t handle that and they realise that you’re not equipped to deal with that, then it moves from just discrimination and stigma and it goes all the way to violence.

Violence can take many forms. Simply put, it ‘is any physical, emotional, verbal, institutional, structural or spiritual behaviour, attitude, policy or condition that diminishes, dominates or destroys others and ourselves’ (Bobichand 2012, p. 1). Johan Galtung, a renowned scholar of peace and conflict studies, sees such behaviour as the ‘avoidable impairment of fundamental human needs or, to put it in more general terms, the impairment of human life, which lowers the actual degree to which someone is able to meet their needs below that which would otherwise be possible. The threat of violence is also violence’ (1990, p. 292). Galtung describes three typologies of the phenomenon: direct, structural and cultural, none of which can manifest without the existence of the others (ibid.). Based on interviews with 25 people who identify as LGBT, and representatives of advocacy organisations that work to eliminate discrimination on the basis of human rights and SOGIE, this chapter illustrates how the laws mentioned above facilitate violence, and – more importantly – how people’s lives are affected within the context of anti-sodomy and cross-dressing laws.

Direct violence

Direct violence is an event. It ‘represents behaviours that serve to threaten life itself and/or to diminish one’s capacity to meet basic human needs. Examples include killing, maiming, bullying, sexual assault, and emotional manipulation’ (Harvard Divinity School, 2016). Verbal violence, such as humiliation or put-downs, is also recognised as a form of direct violence. One interviewee, Juanita Burrowes,11 describes a brutal act perpetrated on a person who identifies as a gay man:

Well because he is gay and [a] person did not appreciate him in the community, he was in a party, and after leaving the party he was standing in the road waiting for the car or vehicle to go home, and a guy just ride up to him and said: ‘Bun a batty boy must dead’ [a gay person must die] … and just draw a cutlass from his waist and with one chop, opened his head and shoulder … dead. His head fling clean off.

All interviewees recounted experiences of violence at the hands of law-enforcement officers, both in public locations and at police stations. They also suffered attacks from citizens when using public and private modes of transport or walking in Georgetown’s public spaces. In extreme cases LGBT persons had been sexually assaulted (raped or groped) and/or murdered.

In cases of direct violence, an individual’s gender identity and gender expression are intertwined with sexual orientation as a basis for policing. Law-enforcement officers and citizens often respond to individuals on the basis of perceptions of how the male-female binary should be expressed. If someone’s gender expression does not meet cisnormative expectations, it is concluded that such a person’s sexual orientation is homosexual and he therefore warrants having bottles thrown at him, being attacked with weapons and being denied access to public transport. Arbitrary arrests and in some cases extortion by police officers may result, as well as general public humiliation through being stripped and heckled. Dorian Obermuller recalled an experience with the police:12

I was liming with some friends as we would say ‘liming’ in the Caribbean, which basically means ‘hanging out’ and ‘chilling’. We were hanging out. The police passed, they saw us, picked us up. Well, I was the very flamboyant one in the crowd.

Like, ‘What are you all doing here?’ and stuff like that. ‘You’re soliciting and … and … and looking for men’, and so on.

We went, ‘No we’re not. No we’re not.’

‘Well, we’re taking you down to the police station. That’s what you’re all doing out here. We’re taking you all down to the police station.’

We went to the police station. They made a total mockery of us, blah, blah, blah, took statements, laughed, ‘Everybody bring their buddies,’ [meaning] the fellow police … policemen. They laughed, made jokes of us, and then sent us away.

Experiences of structural violence: varying degrees of access to social services and governance systems

Structural violence represents the ‘systematic ways in which some groups are hindered from equal access to opportunities, goods and services that enable the fulfilment of basic human needs. These can be formal, as in legal structures that enforce marginalisation, or they could be culturally functional but without legal mandate – such as limited access to education or healthcare for marginalised groups’ (Harvard Divinity School, 2016). Johan Galtung (1990) notes that structural violence exists when some groups, classes, genders, nationalities and so on are assumed to have, and in fact do have, more access to goods, resources and opportunities than others in these categories, and this unequal advantage is built into the very social, political and economic systems that govern societies, nation states and the world. These inequalities may be overt, such as apartheid, or more subtly naturalised through traditions whereby some groups are awarded privileges over others. Structural violence is built into the social system and expresses itself in the unequal distribution of power and unequal opportunities (that is, inequality in the distribution of income, education, opportunities and so on). Galtung equates structural violence with ‘social injustice’, and concludes that it results in a permanent involuntary state of poverty and exclusion from systems of governance in certain communities (ibid., p. 171).

All interviewees agreed that their LGBT sexual orientation and/or gender identity situated them in disadvantaged positions where they had limited, less or no access to goods, resources and opportunities as a result of the embedded stigmas that shape local social, political and economic institutions in Guyana. While acknowledging that SOGIE are indicators for discrimination, factors that determine the degree of individuals’ marginalisation include class, location (urban, rural or interior), race and religion.

Any individuals who seek to express their sexuality outside of the heterosexual norm can experience the disadvantages embedded in the social, political and economic systems that govern the interaction, livelihoods, power and wellbeing of Guyanese people. More specifically, people who identify as LGBT (or are perceived as such) are denied or have less access to goods, resources and opportunities than heterosexual individuals of the same racial, economic or religious backgrounds. Structural violence is subtle, often invisible, and no specific person can (or will) be held responsible. While social services are provided in Guyana, sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression determine an individual’s access to such services, and in turn this determines the wellbeing and health of the people these services are expected to care for.

Cultural violence: reinforcing homophobia and transphobia

Cultural violence is rooted in the prevailing or prominent social norms that make direct and structural violence seem ‘natural’ or ‘right’, or at least acceptable. Galtung (1990) notes that cultural violence helps explain how prominent beliefs can become so embedded in societies that they function as absolute and inevitable, and are reproduced uncritically across generations. It speaks to those aspects of culture, the symbolic sphere of our existence – exemplified by religion, ideology, language, laws and art – that can be used to justify or legitimise direct or structural violence (ibid., p. 291). Cultural violence makes direct and structural violence look and even feel right – or at least not wrong – to people living within that culture.

The relationships between these types of violence are powerful. Opinions around heterosexuality and homosexuality emerging from religion and religious myths are retold through the acceptance of jokes and musical lyrics. According to interviewees, prejudices such as homophobia and transphobia, which are prevalent in Guyanese society, are largely the result of religion and law, which are the basis for how individuals are expected to act. Religion has a strong influence on people’s morals – whether they are seen as good or bad. Certain religious groups are more sympathetic to the issues raised by LGBT people. For instance, some respondents reported that some Catholic churches provide welcoming spaces that are based on non-discrimination, while other Catholics recounted that they had to leave because the sermon was about sexuality, eternal hell and an indirect message that they did not belong to the congregation. Other Christian, Islamic and Hindu groups make the same argument, as Ram Anthony Paul noted: ‘I was brought up in a Christian home. And being in a Christian home, and knowing the books, the words from Christianity, they already tell you … homosexuality is against God’s creation. So there and then, discrimination is there.13

Sade Richardson14 described how, when his family found out he was gay, they claimed he had a demon inside him that needed to come out. He said that according to the church no one is born gay and its members explained to him that, as we grow, evil spirits get into our bodies, but that if he kept going to church, the demons would come out:

It was dramatic: they put their hands on my head, and holy water. It was ridiculous, it was very very ridiculous. Of course by then I was 16 or 17 and getting rebellious and stuff, and mother was reacting, so I go to church. I felt really bad. I believe in Jesus Christ and everything, but I believe that I didn’t choose that lifestyle.

Religious institutions wield huge influence on social norms, consequently affecting the attitudes, feelings and behaviours of those living in Guyana. Once religious leaders and institutions in the country decide on an issue, it is highly probable that the rest of society will follow the decision. Karen De Souza,15 an activist from a local women’s advocacy organisation, indicated that in Guyana:

The church, for me, creates that schism in terms of people’s public expressions and private expressions. I don’t know how you get past that, and this is why the role of government is so critical, because, the reality is, if the law is passed, then you do the public education after the law is passed. You don’t want to pass the law, so you pretend to be consulting with people, and the law never gets passed, and nothing ever moves forward, and that’s a really sad situation.

She continued that religious groups do not take a reasonable position, in that:

[they make] convenient use of their religious books. So there are some sections that you will interpret literally, and some sections that you will not interpret literally. But the thing is that the population of Guyana is a church-going population. And in many ways, the contradiction is, I would say, that the majority of the population would … have no issue at all with passing the laws and so forth, but they don’t want to talk about it. You know? Let people live, let be.

The individuals interviewed came from groups with diverse religious affiliations, class, race, location and SOGIE. When asked whether these factors affect how LGBT persons are treated, many noted that an LGBT person’s social class affects the privileges they have in society and the level of violence visited upon them. To some extent, access to resources dictates how a person is treated, in terms of the quality of justice and opportunities granted.

The following three respondents spoke of how class affects the violence that LGBT persons face:

To some extent definitely, I have a colleague, a gay man who … I remember him saying to me ‘Col, I am professional, and people at my workplace know of my sexuality, but I am not disrespected’.16

According to your class, I say persons who are at the higher class in society may have the privilege because they have their families who are educated sometimes because of the fact that they have money and they’re rich. They buy themselves out of situations … Or the fact that they’re rich, nobody can do them anything. But if you are poor, if you are living in a lower class in the economic crisis that we’re in, you’re definitely going to be stigmatised, people are going to talk and do things and even try to harm you.17

I am very concerned about many other persons who don’t have financial means … Yes, I believe that maybe if I was from an affluent family, actions would have been taken. I called the police almost every day, and it felt like I was villain rather than victim of gay bashing; because I have to be calling them. And up to this day, nothing happen. I think police tend to take action depending upon if you are affluent. I am not certain. Definitely once you have position in society you get more attention, and they want to ensure that you get justice. But being a gay person, not an affluent person, it’s not of importance.18

Akin to the basis of class, many interviewees expressed that the level of violence an LGBT person experiences may vary according to their race and location. There are several ethnic groups from diverse backgrounds in Guyana. Drawing from interviews conducted in rural and urban locations, it is possible to highlight nuances of stigma and discrimination. Three interviewees spoke of how race and social location affect the stigma LGBT persons experience:

In Guyana … being a black person is the most difficult thing in your life. Because you are black, you have to be a man, you have to be masculine, you have to mature. You can’t be a black and a gay. That is like a sin or scorn … You’re supposed to do this, you should do farming. Farming is not for me. I tried it before. I can’t do simple tasks involved in farming. It was too hard. So being a black person in Guyana is very difficult for gays, especially if you are criticised by everybody else.19

At the hospital, I don’t … for me, I don’t think it’s with the ethnicity. I think it’s with the sexuality at the hospital. Because you gay, you gotta be last.20

I know personally an Indian man, he can go anywhere in the black community. I am black man and I am not welcome in my community, and he [the Indian] is welcomed in the black community. He has money, he is comfortable, but I can’t.21

Moreover, although all LGBT persons stand to be affected by stigma and discrimination, there can be differences and nuances based on whether they are gay, lesbian, bisexual or trans, as well as the extent to which they conform to norms of femininity and/or masculinity on the sexuality spectrum. Given the intersection of gender-based oppression and sexual orientation, violence against lesbians may be less understood or documented. For instance, it can be hidden in the private domestic realm and less obvious in the street/public realm.

These excerpts illustrate that not everyone who identifies as LGBT has the same experiences of violence and that social status can affect the degree of violence and how it occurs.

Human rights and the impact of violence on LGBT identities

The challenges faced from their early years by individuals identifying as LGBT and the impact violence has on them are highlighted by this respondent: ‘Growing up being homosexual was very, very, very difficult. All the abuse, all the trauma, all the hurt – physically, emotionally – that I went through I don’t think we should be, anyone should be, going through that.22 As religious groups normalise homophobia, people who identify as LGBT are denied their rights to live with dignity, free from violence, stigma and discrimination. Violence – direct, structural and cultural – against such individuals perpetuates their exploitation and dehumanisation. Death, mental illness, a life of secrecy – these are among the challenges faced by LGBT persons living in Guyana.

Individuals identifying as LGBT, regardless of sexuality, race, class, citizenship or gender, are unlikely to receive treatment for traumatic experiences, because no formal systems are in place to provide support. Interviewees reported that homophobia, stigma and discrimination against them have affected their income, in the sense that they were not able to keep a job, and not having a job blocked their access to state benefits such as insurance. Other impacts include limited access to high-quality healthcare and social services – such as education, employment, housing and security – and inadequate responses to mental health issues, resulting in poor coping skills, which can lead to suicides, suicide attempts, use of illegal drugs and depression.

Furthermore, many interviewees reported that homophobia has affected their schooling and housing. As a result of constant bullying at school and being rejected by the family, they dropped out of school and left home. In many cases these actions resulted in homelessness. Additionally, access to information about sexual reproductive health became less accessible, and they got involved in risky sexual behaviour, which increased their chances of contracting HIV/AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. Because they have to live a life of secrecy, the ability of many LGBT people to maintain long and healthy relationships is adversely affected, resulting in increased stress levels, decreased social involvement, and deteriorating mental and physical health. Finally, many of the interviewees indicated they would like to migrate or seek asylum in other countries such as the United States or Canada rather than stay in Guyana to champion LGBT causes.

Development and the way forward for persons who identify as LGBT

This chapter does not merely protest the conditions LGBT persons are living under, but also advocates for their human rights to be respected and protected. When the government, policymakers, religious groups and citizens speak about development, it is in terms of processes ‘of expanding the freedoms that people enjoy’ (Iles, 2001, p.1). Amartya Sen indicated that ‘development requires the removing of major sources of unfreedom: poverty as well as tyranny, poor economic opportunities as well as social deprivation, neglect of public facilities as well as intolerance. The world has unprecedented opulence and yet denies freedoms to vast numbers of people’ (ibid.).

What is it like to speak of social mobility, development, betterment and individual self-actualisation when a percentage of the population is living unfree? Who will answer this question? Who can we/they turn to? The people themselves are the source of this knowledge. Persons who identify as LGBT and representatives of organisations who witness stigma and discrimination in Guyana are equipped to identify what can be or should be done to facilitate development for LGBT persons. When asked what should be done to change the violent landscape Guyanese LGBT people are living in, interviewees made three recommendations:

1. Respect individuals’ human rights and repeal buggery laws and the cross-dressing law:

We need to look at our laws, we need to repeal our buggery laws … At present we have in our High Court the matter of the cross-dressing law. We need to address that our laws should be there to protect us, our laws should be there to create employment for us, our laws should be there to give us the opportunities, whether it’s a secular environment, whether it’s our choices of employment. Our laws should be there to protect us in the health sector, our laws should be there to protect us when we go on recreations, our laws should be there to protect us in terms of giving us pre-retirement, a retirement package, whatever!23

This recommendation to repeal laws discriminating against LGBT persons was the one that most respondents put first. Such legislative reforms could then also effect systemic change. For instance, employment and housing policies would be adapted so that LGBT people could become visible and be given equal job and housing opportunities; healthcare practice would change for the better if services became more accessible; and school curricula would be modified to reflect diverse SOGIE. Changed laws can also translate into altered societal and cultural views, which could potentially expand the discourse on gender and sexuality in Guyana.

2. Increase social safety networks. Interviewees are here referring to safe spaces that provide LGBT persons with a place (tangible or intangible) to ‘relax and be able to fully express, without fear of being made to feel uncomfortable, unwelcome, or unsafe on account of biological sex, race/ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, cultural background, religious affiliation, age, or physical or mental ability’.24 Safe spaces in Guyana, according to some interviewees, allow them to recover from traumatic experiences resulting from homophobia and/or transphobia. Organisations and individuals work together to provide training for LGBT individuals and social service agencies, host pageants and parties, and advocate on behalf of the rights of LGBT persons at the local, national, regional or international level:

Our social networking also comes through ERT [Equal Rights Trust]. We have been liaising with SASOD, GUYBOW [Guyana Rainbow Coalition], the Caribbean Sex-Workers Coalition, United Nations, USAIDS … UNFPA [United Nations Population Fund] as a matter of fact with UNAIDS as a whole. We have been liaising with GNSWP [Global Network of Sex Work Projects], we have been liaising with Women of Worth in Grenada, we have been doing work with persons in Suriname, we have been doing work across the Caribbean … We are also doing work with the US Embassy, in terms of trafficking persons, the Human Services and Social Security, which is a ministry within our country here. And we also are doing work with organizations such as Help and Shelter, GUYBOW, and the Red Thread organization we would normally collaborate with.25

3. Increase political activism for the rights of LGBT persons. Many of the respondents claimed that deaths of LGBT persons often went unsolved because they were either transgender sex workers and/or gay men. If political activism increases, then more people − especially LGBT persons − will become watchdogs over the government, parliamentary processes and any activities that are pro-heterosexuality and anti-homosexuality. One action the Guyanan government can take is to have continuous conversations or consultations with LGBT communities as they plan, implement and evaluate national development goals. In this way, LGBT people are included and involved in the governance of their wellbeing and development. Furthermore, processes for accessing and implementing justice to combat direct and structural violence can be monitored on a closer basis.

Conclusion

This chapter has provided an overview of the violence LGBT people experience in Guyana and shown what measures should be taken to make their lives safe, supported and visible while upholding their right to dignity. The violence they encounter is rooted in the colonial legislation the country still enforces, a legacy that is backed up by religious beliefs and laws. Consideration and deconstruction of direct, structural and cultural violence – and not heteronormative concepts – need to determine the way in which laws are created and transformed. Laws should be based on protection of their citizens, not on the moral policing that emerges from religion or other cultural factors. The laws that govern the country’s citizens who identify as, or are perceived as, LGBT are inconsistent with international human rights conventions, and with the fundamental goal of the Constitution of Guyana. These laws are at the root of inequalities in Guyana. This chapter argues that legal structures influence cultural behaviours. Anti-LGBT sentiment that is expressed culturally is rooted in the law. Guyana’s laws against cross-dressing and same-sex relations create a system of structural violence, which is linked to cultural and direct violence. These laws thus embody systematic violence against a group of people and need to be changed in order to bring it to an end.

When seeking to eliminate structural violence, methods that centre on the lived experiences of LGBT people must be used. Methodologically speaking, using the interview as a tool to collect data illustrates the importance of people’s narratives, which should be believed and respected (Koirala-Azad and Fuentes, 2009–10, pp. 1–3). Narratives of self-identity should be regarded as legitimate, just as the expression of self should be regarded as a fundamental right. The kind of violence that the interviewees referenced here have experienced should be taken seriously, and steps must be taken to change the structures that have created this heterosexist system. Taking a qualitative participatory approach to documentation and consultation enhances forward movement. Change can take place only when citizens and government commit to eliminating structural violence, and if the narratives of those that it affects are used as a baseline for enacting such change.

References

Bobichand, R. (2012) ‘Understanding violence triangle and structural violence’, Kangla Online, 30 Jul., available at: http://kanglaonline.com/2012/07/understanding-violence-triangle-and-structural-violence-by-rajkumar-bobichand/ (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Galtung, J. (1990) ‘Cultural violence’, Journal of Peace Research, 27 (3): 291−305.

Glickhouse, R. and M. Keller (2012) ‘Explainer: LGBT rights in Latin America and the Caribbean’, Americas Society/Council of the Americas, 24 May, available at: www.as-coa.org/articles/explainer-lgbt-rights-latin-america-and-caribbean (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Guyana Association of Women Lawyers (2011) ‘Constitution of Guyana’ booklet, available at: www.guyanaassociationofwomenlawyersonline.org/GAWL/images/pdf/constitutionofguyana.pdf (accessed 10 Sep. 2017).

Harvard Divinity School (2016) ‘Typologies of violence and peace’, Religious Literacy Project, available at: http://rlp.hds.harvard.edu/typologies-violence-and-peace (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Heilbroner, R. (1992) Twenty-first Century Capitalism (Toronto, ON: House of Anansi Press).

Iles, V. (2001) Summary of Amartya Sen’s Development as Freedom, available at: www.reallylearning.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/development-as-freedom1.pdf (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Jones, S. (2013) ‘76 countries where anti-gay laws are as bad as or worse than Russia’s’, available at: https://www.buzzfeed.com/saeedjones/76-countries-where-anti-gay-laws-are-as-bad-as-or-worse-than?utm_term=.vva14VMPr#.bcBaLXEWP (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Kissoon, V. (2013) ‘From madness to mainstream – “Gay rights” in Guyana, Part I’, Stabroek News, 24 Jun., available at: www.stabroeknews.com/2013/features/06/24/from-madness-to-mainstream-gay-rights-in-guyana-part-i/ (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Koirala-Azad, S. and E. Fuentes (2009–10) ‘Introduction. Activist scholarship – possibilities and constraints of participatory action research’, Social Justice, 36 (4): 1−5.

Michaelson, J., S. Abdallah, N. Steuer, S. Thompson and N. Marks (2009) ‘National accounts of well-being: bringing real wealth onto the balance sheet’, New Economics Foundation (nef), available at: www.nationalaccountsofwellbeing.org/public-data/files/national-accounts-of-well-being-report.pdf (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination (SASOD) Guyana (2014) ‘On Devil’s Island: a UPR submission on LGBT human rights in Guyana’, Sexual Rights Initiatives, available at: www.sasod.org.gy/sites/default/files/resources/SASOD_SRI_UPR_Guyana_July2014FINAL3.pdf (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Documentary films

Sade’s Story (2013) dir. N.B. Henry and U. Verbeek (Guyana and Canada: Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination and Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights), available at: http://envisioninglgbtourwork.blogspot.com/p/caribbean.html (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

Selina’s Voice (2013) dir. N.B. Henry and U. Verbeek (Guyana and Canada: Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination and Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights), available at: http://envisioninglgbtourwork.blogspot.com/p/caribbean.html (accessed 12 Mar. 2018)

Telling Our Stories (Guyana Portraits section) (2014) (Guyana and Canada: Society Against Sexual Orientation Discrimination and Envisioning Global LGBT Human Rights), available at: http://envisioning-tellingourstories.blogspot.com (accessed 12 Mar. 2018). Extracts are cited from interviews with: Melinda Jankie, Selina Maria Perez and Cracey Annatola Fernandes.

______________

1 Quincy ‘Gulliver’ McEwan, director of Guyana Trans United, is a transgender activist in the country and a plaintiff in a case, McEwan, Clarke, Fraser, Persaud and SASOD v. attorney general of Guyana that challenged the law that bans cross-dressing in Guyana. McEwan was interviewed on 27 Nov. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning. An excerpt is included in the Guyana Portraits section of the Telling Our Stories (2014) documentary series.

2 Social structure is the organised pattern of social relationships/institutions that together compose society. These structures are not immediately visible to the untrained observer; however, they are present and affect all dimensions of human experience in society.

3 Wellbeing is a good or satisfactory condition of existence; a state characterised by health, happiness and prosperity; welfare. Also see Michaelson et al. (2009).

4 Statistics obtained from the Bureau of Statistics – Guyana website, Population & Housing Census Final at: https://www.statisticsguyana.gov.gy/census.html (accessed 20 Jan. 2018).

5 These former British colonies in the West Indies are: Antigua and Barbuda, Barbados, Belize, Dominica, Grenada, Guyana, Jamaica, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, and Trinidad and Tobago. Recently, these laws have been successfully challenged in the courts, in Belize in 2016 and in Trinidad and Tobago in 2018. For more on the Belize case see Orozco, ch. 9.

6 Melinda Jankie, an attorney-at-law and executive director of the Justice Institute Guyana Inc., interviewed on 27 Nov. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning. An excerpt is included in the Guyana Portraits section of the Telling Our Stories (2014) documentary series.

7 McEwan, Clarke, Fraser, Persaud and SASOD v. attorney general of Guyana was filed in Feb. 2010 by four of seven trans persons convicted under the cross-dressing law, and SASOD, which was also an applicant in the proceedings. The court’s ruling upheld the law as consistent with constitutional rights and did not define ‘improper purpose’. The litigants appealed the ruling, however the Court of Appeal upheld the prior ruling. The appellants have appealed the case to the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ) where the case was heard on 28 June 2018. For details see: www.u-rap.org/web2/index.php/component/k2/item/64-press-release-mcewan-et-al-v-attorney-general-of-guyana-court-of-appeal-decision (accessed 18 Apr. 2018).

8 Interviewed on 15 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning. An excerpt is included in the documentary Selina’s Voice (2013).

9 The seven are listed in the Fourth Schedule of the Guyana Constitution: International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights; International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights; Convention on the Rights of the Child; Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women; Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination; Convention Against Torture and Other Inhumane or Degrading Treatment or Punishment; and the Inter-American Convention on the Prevention, Punishment and Eradication of Violence Against Women.

10 Interviewed on 13 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning.

11 Interviewed on 31 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning.

12 Interviewed on 13 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning.

13 In a group interview on 9 Oct. 2012 conducted by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning.

14 Interviewed on 28 Nov. 2013 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning. An excerpt is included in the documentary Sade’s Story (2013). In the film, Sade self-identifies both as ‘trans’ and ‘gay’. Here the pronouns ‘he’ and ‘him’ are used in describing Sade’s early life.

15 Interviewed on 5 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, SASOD and Envisioning.

16 Colleen McEwan interviewed on 27 Nov. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

17 AnonymousA interviewed on 30 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

18 Selina Maria Perez, interviewed on 15 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

19 Alex Fraser interviewed on 28 Nov. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

20 Group interview with Ram Paul and Yadunauth Singh on 9 Oct. 2012 conducted by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

21 Eon Wilson interviewed on 5 Dec. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

22 AnonymousB, interviewed on 31 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

23 Cracey Annatola Fernandes interviewed on 7 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

24 See ‘What is a safe space?’ on the Safe Space Network website at: http://safespacenetwork.tumblr.com/Safespace (accessed 12 Mar. 2018).

25 Cracey Annatola Fernandes interviewed on 7 Oct. 2012 by Namela Baynes Henry, as above.

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