The weather in October and November had not been friendly; it had been windy and gloomy for quite some time. Luckily, on November 5, a sunny day was bestowed on us! After all, it was the Kyushu Rainbow Pride. Yay!
At 9 a.m. Reisen Park was already full of a festive ambience; balloons, rainbows, uplifting music, and smiles on everyone’s faces. Ami, the partner of our beloved rainbow-fighter Karmen, kindly gave us a hand with booth setups. Time went by so quickly that the intro of the Pride had already started while we were still preparing.
A group cannot live without support and contribution from the public. This year we participated in “Connecting youth with youth supporting groups”, a booth project proposed by a local queer NGO FRENS.
With this project many young people came to our booth to learn about Stonewall Japan and, in exchange, we gave them a stamp as a token of appreciation for their time and interest (to our surprise, many young children came along in the company of their parents). I think this was a brilliant act to reach out and interact with booth visitors.
Face-painting has been Stonewall Japan’s signature booth activity for a million years. But we are also trying out new ideas. This time we launched an unprecedented Stonewall Kyushu Raffle which immediately became a highlight and attracted many people who wanted to try their hand at getting the jackpot – a rainbow humidifier/a unicorn hat. Stonewall member Nelson also initiated an extraordinary activity “Choose a Better Word” to reduce and eliminate the use of exclusionary or derogatory language.
Our lovely rainbow-makers Athena and Nelson were too busy to take a break. As the sun went down, the Pride closed on Kiyotaka’s enchanting performance. In general, I think we had a very fruitful day in promoting our local events and talking to lovely people.
I can hardly wait for the next Rainbow Pride. As always, thank you for all your support and devotion!
It was February 3rd on a Friday night when, in Ehime prefecture, Niihama’s Akagane museum opened itself up to the gay community. A friend asked me to present about something I felt passionate about and LGBT rights was an obvious choice. The attendees slowly gathered. Niihama residents from various walks in life came to the underground café at Akagane—a retired elementary school teacher, a dentist assistant, a Japanese teacher, some members of Niihama’s guides club, two city hall employees, and one high schooler were in attendance for the LGBT presentation.
The presentation started with a basic explanation of the acronym “LGBT”. After explaining what each letter stands for I believe most people got the general gist of it. For about 70% of the audience, it was their first time seeing the acronym.
After a few minutes we started a “maru-batsu” quiz (true or false quiz). The first question was: “According to global statistics, in a class of 30 students, there are about 1 or 2 students who are LGBT.” This statement is true, and the majority of people guessed correctly. People were really shocked to learn that 7% of Japan’s population is LGBT. Or that the earliest some LGBT people realize their identity is before they enter elementary school — others realize as late as junior high school. One of the biggest shocks for people was hearing there was a gay bar in Niihama!
Another thing that shocked people was that in the next town over, Ehime, there is a support center for sexual minorities. After sharing these statistics about LGBT Japan, people had many questions. As a group we clarified each other’s questions. Some people who were knowledgeable about the LGBT community were able to answer questions better than I could in Japanese.
Following the maru-batsu section we broke into group discussions. The first question I asked everyone was: “If your child was a boy and said he liked boys, what would you do?” This was the high point of the lecture. People had very deep and intense conversations. I went in and out of several groups, listening to the conversations people shared. One man gave a superb example of explaining sexual identity: a woman tastes an apple, she likes it. She then tastes an orange. She doesn’t like the orange as much as the apple. Why does she prefer the apple over the orange? The answer: preferring an apple over an orange, a woman preferring a woman over a man, or preferring both, these are natural choices. Those choices are different for each person. It’s not wrong, it’s not right, it’s just different, and that’s perfectly fine. For example, how does a man who likes women explain why he likes women? Can he explain that? And why should he need to explain that? In Japan’s society, however, being different from the group is bad. In schools, children get bullied for being different from everyone else. Standing out makes things harder and “the nail which sticks out gets hammered down” 「出るくぎは打たれる」 is, unfortunately, still the mindset of most Japanese people.
Towards the end of the presentation, one older Japanese man stood up to give his opinion on our group discussion. He said, “This was the first time I heard about people who are LGBT. In Japan, this is an issue we don’t normally talk about. I think it’s important for everyone to understand what being LGBT means and to be accepting of sexual minorities.” The presentation that day ended well and I felt everyone was on board with understanding more about the LGBT community.
My name is Scott Tamaki, I’m an ALT from America. I’m not LGBT, but I have supported LGBT people/sexual minorities and their rights since high school. My uncle is gay and married to a nice English man. I have lived in Japan for three years and heard horrible stories of LGBT Japanese people committing suicide, being violently bullied, fired from work for being gay or lesbian, unable to visit their loved one in the hospital after an accident, or being denied adoption rights.
My simple request for people who read this article: Do your own research about LGBT people. Learn about the Japanese LGBT community, watch an LGBT movie, or learn more about the LGBT support organization: “Pride Ehime.”
The human rights violations against the LGBT+ community can end if more people become allies (people not LGBT but who support LGBT rights), and if more people understand the issue.
This article was originally published in the February 2017 issue of the Connect magazine. For more information about Connect and their engaging articles written by and for the ex-pat community in Japan, please visit their website.
“Closeted –Adjective / klɒzɪtɪd / Keeping something secret, especially the fact of being homosexual.”
If you have ever been (or indeed still are) closeted, you can agree it is no bed of roses. Having to conceal your sexuality and a part of your identity from family, friends, colleagues, and peers can leave you feeling isolated, confined, and frustrated.
There is a reason why the term “closeted” is used with regard to those who are keeping their sexuality a secret from those around them. It is dark. It is restrictive. It is suffocating.
My time spent in the closet was awash with confusion and anguish, on both a mental and emotional level, as I tried my best to circumnavigate across the spectrum of my own sexuality. Even now when I reflect on my experiences being in the closet, I cannot help but grimace.
Flashback to my high school days. I am sitting with my female friends in the canteen, engrossed in enjoyable conversation. “Mate, are you, like, a faggot or something?” one of the popular, athletic types suddenly probes. Silence. Those around stare. Silence is soon replaced with sniggers and slurs. My words fail me as I desperately try to salvage a fragment of my crumbling heterosexual façade. Deeper into my closet I withdraw.
This was just one of the day-to-day experiences that I encountered during my youth which made me feel like I would never be able to escape the dark solitude of my closet.
Fortunately, however, my closet was only a temporary abode. I was able to step out of the darkness into a warm and accepting welcome from all of my family and friends, to which I am extremely grateful. The positive reaction from those around me left me wondering what it was that had made me so fearful to come out during my younger years. The world outside the closet was bright. Liberating. I could breathe, finally; I had cast off my shackles and bid adieu to the isolation of my closet for once and for all. Or so I had thought.
Before leaving for Japan on the JET Programme, my sexuality was the last thing on my mind. During Pre-Departure Orientation, lecturers kindly gave speeches discussing the difficulties that incoming JETs can face after arriving in Japan — mainly culture shock. Given the geographical distance between Britain and Japan, I tried to mentally prepare myself as best as possible for the impending culture shock which awaited me in the land of the rising sun.
Much time was spent considering the challenges that await foreigners in Japan. However, topics which were never discussed were the challenges which lay in wait for me as a homosexual male.
With Tokyo Orientation over all too soon, I suddenly found myself behind my desk at work on the first day of my new job. An uncomfortable mixture of nerves and jet lag, matched with the stifling heat of the Japanese summer, meant my once freshly-cleaned shirt was drenched in perspiration as I began to make my rounds greeting different people within city hall. After many introductions and an excessive amount of bowing, one particular gentlemen mentions my biggaijinnose and compliments my physical attributes. This was met with laughter from my new supervisor. “Relax! He’s not a homo. Don’t worry!”
My throat ran dry.
My words failed me.
I decided to smile graciously and let the comment slide as playful office banter.
After a long first day at work, I was quickly ushered to a local izakayawhich was filled with the faces of my new work colleagues. It’s my welcome party. The smell of cigarette smoke and sake filled my nostrils as I took my seat within the venue. After a few words of greeting, a couple cans of Kirin Ichiban, the conversation turned to relationships.
“Nick, do you have a girlfriend?”
“Nick, what is your type?”
“Nick, what do you think of Japanese girls?”
The barrage of questions was quick and relentless. In that moment, I was offered two choices: tell the truth or lie.
I regrettably chose the latter.
Like a repeat offender, I find myself being frog-marched back into my closet once again. Though many years have passed, my closet remains unchanged and the familiar darkness greets me like an old friend. Only this time, my closet feels smaller and more cramped than I remember. I awkwardly contort my body, trying to squeeze into the same space which my 14-year-old self would have had no problem fitting into. My brief spell outside of the closet had enabled me to grow in many more ways than I could have imagined.
I had once naïvely thought that stepping out of the closet would be one of the hardest challenges I would face in my life. However, admittedly, stepping out of the closet, enjoying the taste of liberation, and then being forced back into the same closet is undeniably even more challenging.
However, this is of course not just limited to myself. I imagine that many members from the LGBTQIA living in Japan are faced with similar situations on a regular basis. Living in Japan for any minority can be a stressful and at times frustrating experience. However, members of the queer community are statistically more likely to be faced with additional anguish and strife. Unfortunately, this mental and emotional burden can often lead to low self-esteem, alcohol/drug abuse, depression, and suicidal thoughts.
Finding solace and refuge within a queer space can be an excellent way to reduce the stress and anguish of everyday life. From an outside perspective, the bars, clubs, discotheques, and other queer spaces as found in Shinjuku Ni-chome and Kita-ku might appear to be nothing more than a place where gay men drink vodka and twerk to the likes of Lady Gaga and Nicki Minaj on a superficial level. However, these queer spaces are much more than this. These queer spaces offer sanctuary. Safety. Family. Home. It is a place to step out of the proverbial closet and present the most authentic and honest version of yourself.
Unfortunately, for those who do not reside in big cities like Tokyo and Osaka, queer spaces and communities are seldom found. From my experience, this can heighten one’s sense of isolation and solitude while living in the inaka of Japan. Though you can surround yourself with many close friends within the local community and among fellow JETs and alumni, the lack of a queer space to retreat to can leave you with an unshakeable feeling of loneliness. My incarceration within the closet seems perpetual.
However, the worst was yet to come.
On June 12, 2016, an assailant walked into Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida, armed with an SIG Sauer MCX semi-automatic rifle and a 9mm Glock 17 semi-automatic pistol. Opening fire, the gunman killed 49 people and wounded 53 others in a heinous hate crime. This was both the deadliest mass shooting by a single gunman and the worst attack against the LGBTQIA in United States history.
Pulse was a gay nightclub. It was a queer space. A place which people retreat to in search of acceptance, unity, and love, had in that instance been desecrated into somewhere of discrimination, stigma, and hate.
The LGBTQIA community worldwide was in mourning.
My alarm sounds at 7 a.m. on a seemingly ordinary dreaded Monday. I stir. I yawn. I stretch. I reach for my iPhone and begin scrolling through Facebook as I steal a couple of extra minutes in bed. Expecting the usual stream of selfies and memes, I pause. Stunned. I frantically read through article after article feeling a surge of different emotions, even a world away.
My clock now reads 07:32 a.m. Work beckons me. It is in that instant that I realize that similar to my sexuality, my emotions too must be left firmly sealed within my closet.
As with any other Monday, I routinely pull out my trousers, shirt, tie, and jacket from my closet and begin to get dressed. I apply cologne, style my hair, and put on my watch. My last accessory to apply is the most important — my mask of heterosexuality. With a heavy heart, I cower behind this mask.
Wanting to grieve but not being permitted to because of societal values and norms has been my toughest challenge to date. Forcing a smile, I try to feign normality. It was in this instance that I felt my closet was at its darkest. However, to quote a well-known proverb, “the darkest hour comes just before the dawn.”
As I sit pondering my desolation inside my closet, a faint voice calls out from the darkness: “You are not alone.”
Like music to my ears, my heart leaps as my eyes scan my closet trying to distinguish who had called out to me from the shadows. My search is in vain as I see nothing but darkness: “It gets better.”
A different voice calls out from another corner of my closet, only louder: “We are here for you.”
A chorus of encouragement erupts from within my closet. Suddenly, a light switches on and I see that I am not alone. Faces smile at me and I recognize these people as my comrades of the LGBTQIA cause. These are of course the faces of Stonewall Japan and other allies. Comment after comment fills the page from people offering support and love for those in need. My anger is replaced with determination. My loneliness replaced with togetherness. My sorrow replaced with pride.
I realise as I sit in my apartment amongst the Japanese rice fields, that to escape the darkness of my closet, all I had to do was remember to turn on the light.
Nick Lavin is a 3rd year CIR and the AJET Vice Chair located in Takaoka City, Toyama Prefecture. He majored in Japanese Studies at the University of Manchester, and has an interest in linguistics and queer culture. He wrote his thesis regarding queer identity through the medium of the Japanese language. Nick likes to spend his weekends drinking good coffee, hanging out with friends, and endlessly watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. Also, food. Lots of it.
It’s that time of the year when Stonewall Japan needs volunteers! If you want to get more involved in the LGBTQIA+ scene here in Japan, do some voluntary work, be part of a dynamic team, then this is the opportunity. Stonewall is growing each year, so the need for regular volunteers is only increasing. Unless specified below, all that we ask for is that you live in Japan, and are willing to learn and help-out!
All positions detailed below are open for application. Positions start on April 1st, and we ask that you fulfil the role for at least a year. To run for a position, answer the 10 questions below and send them to us at email@example.com before 11:59PM of Friday 3rd March! If you have any questions, want more information, or hesitant and want some encouragement…we’d love to hear from you, so please message Louis at firstname.lastname@example.org .
Unlike previous years, Block Leader and Prefecture Rep positions will NOT have to go through an election process. Only Leadership positions will go through a voting process and election.
1. What is your name/pronouns?
2. Tell us a bit about yourself.
3. What is the position you’re applying for?
4. How long have you been in Japan?
5. How long have you been a part of Stonewall Japan?
6. What are you doing in Japan?
7. Where do you currently live?
8. How’s your Japanese?
9. Why are you the best person for this position?
10. What do you hope to accomplish by the end of your term?
The president is responsible for:
1. Acting as lead executive toward both the efficacy and efficiency of administration for the good of the membership of Stonewall Japan.
2. Acting as the external liaison and representative of Stonewall Japan to other organizations including but not limited to non-profit organizations, non-governmental organizations, and public and private service providers.
3. Facilitating all internal meetings with Leadership.
4. Coordinating communications.
5. Keeping contact with National AJET, other chapters of AJET and Special Interest Groups (SIGs).
6. Executive decisions and settling disputes.
7. The treasury.
8. Creating agendas for the meetings.
The Vice President is responsible for:
1. Working with the President toward both the efficacy and efficiency of administration for the good of the membership of Stonewall Japan.
2. Facilitating all internal meetings with Block Leaders.
3. Acting as liaison between Block Leaders and the Leadership.
4. Assisting the president in various duties, including treasury issues.
5. Communicate with the secretary regarding clerical records (mailing list, contacts, etc.) and membership.
The Treasurer is responsible for:
1. Accessing the ‘Stonewall Japan’ bank account.
2. Maintaining records of all revenue and expenditures and ensuring that generally accepted accounting practices and controls are in place.
3. Providing the Stonewall Japan Leadership with a monthly financial report.
4. Creating an annual budget.
5. Transferring access of the aforementioned bank account to the succeeding Treasurer as a final duty.
*The Treasurer will not withdraw money without permission from either the President or Vice-President.
Diversity & Awareness Officer
[2 positions are available to share responsibilities]
The Diversity & Awareness Officers are responsible for:
1. Moderating the Stonewall Japan Facebook group using the Safe Space Guidelines and protocol.
2. Conducting outreach activities in-person or online making Stonewall Japan a more inclusive and safe space.
3. Attending monthly leadership meetings.
4. Checking the Stonewall Japan Facebook Group(s)/page and email account on a regular basis.
5. Participating in group discussions.
6. Assisting in succession planning.
[2+ positions are available to share responsibilities]
The Web Coordinators are responsible for:
1. Updating and editing Stonewall Japan’s official site using WordPress.
2. Tweeting from the official Stonewall Japan twitter account.
3. Writing, accepting and editing contributions for the website.
4. The start-up and development of any other web-related projects that would enhance Stonewall Japan’s web presence.
5. As the position tenure nears its end, the Web Coordinator is expected to assist in succession planning.
Requirements: An understanding or committed willing to learn about wordpress, HTML, CSS and Bootstrap. A level of Japanese would be helpful, but not necessary.
Stonewall Block Leader
The Block Leaders are responsible for:
1. Checking the block e-mail account and the Stonewall Japan Facebook group.
2. Attending Google Hangouts meetings.
3. Sending out a monthly ‘Block Newsletters’ detailing upcoming events/information.
4. Helping promote and assist in Stonewall member’s events
5. Looking out for queer-friendly places and assisting in updating online resources
6. Being open to signpost members to sources of further support.
7. Assist in succession planning.
[Unlimited positions available]
Prefecture Reps are responsible for:
1. Help the Block Leader in gathering information about the prefecture.
2. Be a general helping hand.
3. Help out, or organise local Stonewall events.
Being on the leadership for Stonewall this year has been rewarding and enjoyable for all of us, and I would certainly recommend it. So come and join the team! We’re looking forward to hearing from you.
This article was originally published in the February 2017 issue of the Connect magazine. For more information about Connect and their engaging articles written by and for the ex-pat community in Japan, please visit their website.
LGBT Beyond Tokyo: Doing Your Best With Less
Every time I read an interesting, informative LGBT-themed manga, one thing sticks out: Tokyo. It seems like everything happens in Tokyo. All the best stories, all the TV shows, the biggest pride events, the hottest bars, it’s all about Tokyo. Sure, there are LGBT communities in places like Osaka, Yokohama, Fukuoka, Nagoya, and Sapporo. But they aren’t Tokyo. They don’t get the same publicity, draw the same crowds, or have the most resources. For example, in 2016 the Kyushu Rainbow Pride (1) and the Kansai Rainbow Festa! (2) had a turnout of 5,000-6,000 people, while the Tokyo Rainbow Pride attracted over 70,000 and was reported on in worldwide news services like the UK Daily Mail. (3)
And then there’s me. You see, I live in what people would call the inaka. Of course an area with around 300,000 people isn’t exactly a shack in the woods, but if that area is two hours from Tokyo… it might as well be nowhere. “But!” you may say, “I hear there’s lots of great apps you can use to meet people!” This is where the differences between my reality and other parts of LGBT reality collide head-on.
I guess a little information about me is needed to make sense. My name is Michelle, and I am a transwoman who identifies strongly as a lesbian. This is where the initial conflict arises. I think “LGBT” as a concept in Japan is much more fractured and compartmentalized than it is in some other countries. You could blame it on any number of potential reasons: the small LGBT population numbers, the patriarchy, a lack of education in LGBT issues, or plain old prejudice if you want. However, the truth is that each letter in LGBT (as well as the left out letters, like Queer, Intersex, and Asexual) are really their own individual fiefdoms in Japan, and they can be very exclusive.
Take for example, Shinjuku Ni-chome, known as a popular hub for the LGBT community — in Tokyo, again. Most of the bars are segregated by gender or sexuality, and sometimes anything that blurs those lines can be challenging. I’ve been to lesbian bars where I, as a fully out and transitioning transwoman, could only get in if I was accompanied by other cisgender lesbians. Meanwhile, the same bar allowed several transmen in, which I still don’t understand.
On one of my rare visits to Ni-chome, I met a very friendly bisexual woman who spent the evening taking me and another foreign lesbian that she met to different bars. She talked at length about how stifled she felt in the social climate of Japan, even among the small LGBT community. She said that sometimes, especially if she mentioned having recently gotten out of a relationship with a male, women would say she was a “fake” or just ignore her completely afterwards.
A similar thing happened to me, too. At one of the bars, I was talking with the patrons and the bartenders about being transgender, and they were all praising me for being out and representing LGBT issues in rural Japan. They asked questions about my lifestyle, hardships, and the whole process of transition. It felt like they had an urgent desire to understand, and that was a positive thing that I was happy to oblige.
However, when it came to relationships and sex, the conversation shifted. What struck me the most was that it seemed none of the women in the bar that night (as well as other Japanese lesbians I’ve talked to) had ever considered transwomen as capable of being lesbians. There was a compartmentalized view, as if to say “lesbians are this” and “transwomen are that.” There was no intersectionality, no concept that the two weren’t mutually exclusive ideas. There was a disconnect between accepting trans people as an aspect of the sexual minority community and accepting them as a valid component of the lesbiancommunity.
When the bartender was asked by her friends if she would date a transwoman, she paused for a bit to think about it. After some consideration, she said (roughly translated): “I respect them and all, but I couldn’t ever date one. That’s not my thing.” I get that. Everyone has their own feelings and preferences, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Some people are really open to a variety of experiences, while others can’t quite move beyond simple biology. Attraction is what it is, and I don’t judge anyone for that. Still, it hurts sometimes to hear it. More important than my feelings, though, the fact that the concept of a transwoman identifying as a lesbian had never crossed their radar highlights how much more education Japan needs on trans issues, even among the larger LGBT community.
And it’s not that these were bad places, because they certainly weren’t. Once inside, I felt the same friendliness as anyone else would, though inwardly I also felt sort of isolated. It was like being a very welcomed guest, but not a full-fledged member of the community. However, three-and-a-half years ago, I visited a women’s only bar in Fukuoka where I felt right at home, fully welcomed by the women there, and even hit on by a few. I went again to Tokyo’s Ni-chome, during the 2016 Tokyo Rainbow Pride, as a guest speaker for a panel discussion on overcoming difficulties in LGBT life. This time I certainly felt more connected, but it was other foreigners in the community who were paying me attention.
Meanwhile, out here in the “countryside,” one’s relationship potential seems to depend on whether or not you’re a gay male. Many of my gay friends talk about how they have decent options, going on dates from time to time, and in some cases having serious, long-term relationships. But whenever I talk with my few lesbian friends, all I hear is “Yeah, I haven’t been on any dates in a while.”
I asked a gay male friend of mine about this recently, and his response was that it’s the same everywhere. He said that essentially, men have most of the freedoms in the world, while women have most of the responsibilities. Of course, this isn’t completely true, but on some level, it persists as a social construct. After all, women are expected to bear children, take care of the house, get coffee with their girlfriends, and gossip about men. That pressure to bow to domestic social rules tends to bear more of its weight on women than on men. That means that, on some level, society devalues women who aren’t getting married and having children.
Let me give you an example. I work in a high school, and for the past two years I have had my third-year students write an essay on any one of four social issues. Out of the 129 students who choose to talk about the same-sex marriage issue, only 6 said they were against it. First, let’s take a step back and recognize that 123 out of 129 students (of voting age in a few months) said they were for same-sex marriage! However, one thing that persisted throughout most of the essays was that many students thought allowing same-sex marriage would hurt Japan’s drastically declining birthrate. (4)
It was apparent that many of the students viewed overarching social obligations as equally or more important than personal happiness. What was interesting was that very few of these students considered the possibility of surrogacy or in-vitro fertilization. A recent article from Advocate.com (5)relates the difficulties that LGBT couples face in getting IVF or legal recognition in surrogacy cases. Same-sex couples are barred from receiving IVF by Japanese doctors, and they cannot adopt children under 6 years old.
The article also says that a child born to a Japanese couple via a surrogate mother in the US would still likely be legally considered the surrogate’s child in Japan. Despite not having any part in the relationship, and not even being a legal mother in the US, Japan would place the responsibility on the woman, taking it away from the child’s legal parent. This highly traditional viewpoint promoted by the government brings home this idea that the woman’s job is to have children, and that’s that. When you think about the social pressures on women, it’s no wonder many Japanese lesbians are secretive about their sexuality.
A year ago, I was determined to overcome this problem and meet a girl online. I did some research, downloaded some apps, and dove into it. First of these was Tinder, which might as well be called “Dwindle” since there seems to be little fire ready to burn. Put in “Girl looking for Girl” and countless profiles pop-up, of which maybe one in 40 is an actual lesbian/bisexual girl. The other 39 profiles are straight girls just looking for a “bestie” to teach them English, for free of course. Many of these women actually state in their profiles that they are not interested in relationships/hookups, and anyone looking for that should “swipe left” to pass on them.
I then tried Spindle+, advertised as an app specifically for lesbians. What I found was a few people in my area, less than 10 within a 30 km radius. Of course all of them spoke Japanese only, and the whole app was very confusing and difficult to navigate. I couldn’t figure out how to message or connect with anyone, and nobody has paid any attention to me in the year I’ve been on it. I gave up on that.
What’s next, then? OkCupid, of course! This was a different app; this one was full of real lesbian/bi/pan women seeking other women! In Tokyo. Nearly everyone I’ve seen on the app who pops up as “in my area” is in Tokyo, and furthermore, it’s almost all foreigners. And that’s not really a problem, love is love after all. But it doesn’t move you forward when your goal is to find and connect with the Japanese LGBT community.
I guess it comes down to the question of “What do I really want?” A part of me still can’t decide if I want to be part of a community, or if I just want a girlfriend. It feels as if the community is the part of those manga which interested me the most, and pulled me towards Japan in the first place. What I’ve seen of the LGBT community in Japan, both from manga written by lesbians and from my own experiences, is a small, tight-knit realm where people are generally compassionate and friendly. Perhaps that contradicts some of my earlier stories on some level, but I’m optimistic enough to believe that these are either exceptions to the rule or social misunderstandings. The reality is probably somewhere in the middle.
But once again, that all happens only when I visit Tokyo. Back here in my little burg of 300,000 people, I find myself feeling alone and isolated. I have plenty of friends among the English-speaking community here, but none of that really connects back into the LGBT community I long for. I find myself searching for expression and for a place where I feel like I can have an impact.
In fact, I long for those things so much that last year I joined Stonewall Japan (6), a national LGBT organization, as the leader of my area. In the end, though, I found the same problems. As much as I tried to connect locally, create events, and cultivate a community, the base just wasn’t there. The biggest cities had all the members, all the events, and all the focus. This wasn’t the organization’s fault, as a lot of work was put into trying to solve this issue. Even now that I’m no longer a leader, I intend to help my successor continue building up the small community in my area. Still, under my leadership, that community just didn’t quite coalesce.
Maybe I didn’t try hard enough. However, it feels sometimes like it’s impossible to push back against the force of a world-class city bearing down on you, like an ant avoiding footsteps. As an ant, you really only have two options: either run to the side and climb onto the foot, or get crushed. But as much as I talk about how nice it would be to live in Tokyo and be a part of that community, the truth is I don’t really want to leave my nice little area. I have a good job, a less stressful daily life, and a drastically lower cost of living. There are plenty of anime and game shops to attract my attention away from my sorrows, and I can still go down to the local bookstore and buy used lesbian manga for 100 yen.
But it isn’t the same, and perhaps it never will be. There’s only one Tokyo.
Michelle Belmont is the first openly transgender teacher in Shizuoka. Hailing from the controversially anti-trans North Carolina, USA, she enjoys her slightly too peaceful life in rural, yet suburban Japan. Her pet hamster Camille, named after a lesbian in the movie When Night Is Falling, has been a constant friend for two years. She is currently assisting her successor in Stonewall Japan as a Prefecture Rep. for Shizuoka.
As a gay Caucasian man living in rural Mie, the double minority status can feel quite isolating. This is why the first ever Mie Rainbow Festa (みえレインボーフェスタ), held in Ise last month, was such a joyous day out! Stonewall Japan organised an opportunity for LGBT+ people and their allies to interact with other like-minded people. We watched numerous musical and dance acts, grabbed some local Ise food, and enjoyed meeting some of the most prominent LGBT activists currently working in Japan.
Organisers Shoichi Yamaguchi(山口颯一), Ichikawa Takeshi(市川武史) and Ota Yuuya(太田有矢)successfully planned and executed it, and as it was in my home prefecture, I had to attend. A group of Stonewallers met in front of the station, and managed to get to the event just in time for its opening remarks. The prefectural governor, mayor of Ise, and the mayor of Iga said some words along with the organisers. Iga was the first city in the Kansai/Tokai region to recognise same-sex couples, so maybe Ise may get some ideas…
Held in the Ise City Plaza, in the centre of Ise, Mie, the venue was full of attendees. The hall was decorated with love-filled messages from local elementary school children, rainbow painted bamboo candle holders and the smiles of supportive friends and family.
We’d seen the event officially start, and then decided to grab some lunch at a nearby restaurant. Whilst we were eating, a panel of distinguished LGBT+ activists had a talk about the current status of LGBT+ equality in Japan. Some stayed behind to watch the discussion. For others, we had a nice catch up with old friends and met some new faces over some delicious food.
After our meal, we returned to the event. The city had really shown its support by decorating the main street that leads from the train station to Ise Shrine (Gekū) with rainbow flags too. We made it just in time to watch some performances from some local musicians and further afield dance groups. Emceed by the drag artist Raira(ライラ), the array of acts was well received with applause. Some special guests included Nijigumi Fight (虹組ファイツ), Rowan, X-ways, NSM = (LIVE) to mention a few. Some emotional words were expressed from the organisers, and the event closed with a group photo. We even managed to speak to Mr. Yamaguchi and grab a photo with him.
Afterwards, a few of us stayed behind to watch the sun set and get to know each other better. I was exhausted by the end of the day, and slept the whole train ride home. But, I can’t wait till next year! In a country that still has no unambiguous, constitutional protections against homophobic or transphobic discrimination, I am thankful to have been part of this event. Thank you to everyone who came.