Monday, September 29, 2008

Closing with Love

By Shahana Dattagupta

Yesterday was the last and final day of ISAFF. The day’s primary focus was on two topics – HIV/AIDS education and love in various forms of marriage and intimate relationships – explored through a series of short films and a presentation.

I found the shorts made on HIV/AIDS quite artistically and sensitively treated. In the past I have only seen dry documentaries on this topic, not emotive short stories. Vishal Bharadwaj’s film Blood Brothers was really interesting - it explored the different realities of two men with the same name whose blood reports were mixed up by the testing lab, and their intersection in life.

In the afternoon was a rare, unique presentation. The Asian Pacific Community Leadership Foundation’s (ACLF) 2008 Community Leadership Program class presented their project – a multi-media presentation on mixed-orientation relationships in the South Asian community. Not only should ACLF be commended for such a bold, ground-breaking project, but also those members of our local South Asian community who were courageous and open enough to share the stories of their lives and their mixed-orientation relationships. I was touched deeply, and what resonated with me the most personally was the idea of possibilities in intimate relationships. To make these relationships successful, those open to a wider range of possibilities must also demonstrate greater caring, openness, dialogue and communication, respect and responsibility towards their partners than perhaps those in normative relationships. In other words, there can be great personal growth and evolution when one opens oneself to a bigger range of possibilities. It was also great to witness the bridges of collaboration being built between Seattle’s South Asian and Asian Pacific communities, beginning with Tasveer and ACLF’s partnership on this project.

The remaining afternoon was spent watching Every Good Marriage Begins with Tears and Donkey in Lahore. The first film, made by Simon Chambers, profiled the struggles of a Bangladeshi family living in England, arranging marriages for their two daughters. Chambers, who was a close friend of the family, was able to use the lens as an intimate observer of the various issues and inner-workings of the family. It was great to see the Tasveer Youth Initiative present a short film of their own, that presented a wider view of arranged marriages with interviews from Seattle’s local Bengali community. The discussion that ensued on arranged marriages was actually quite involved. Some found the narrow lens Simon Chambers used to portray the Bangladeshi family irresponsible. Others threw light on the full spectrum of arranged marriages, and the term “facilitated” was put on the table. In Donkey in Lahore, Brian from Australia may have met Amber in Pakistan and “fallen in love,” yet the customs and formalities that followed and spanned nearly 5 years (which included immigration formalities) for their wedding were essentially those of a very traditionally organized arranged marriage. Brian (Amir after his conversion to Islam) and Amber essentially learned to love each other only after marriage, because all their meetings and interactions up to this point were always chaperoned. It illustrated to me, the very point being debated earlier in the afternoon – that love can happen in various stages of marriages, and “arrangement” and “choice” can mean different things in different situations.

The evening’s screening had two Nepali films – a short titled A Silent Monsoon and the feature film Kagbeni, which was quite the mythical thriller. It was my first Nepali feature film and I was struck by the cinematography featuring immensely beautiful landscapes.

At the end of the festival I was both happy and exhausted. It had been 5 intense days of films that raised topics that are complex, and issues that don’t have straightforward answers. I felt that I had learned and grown an incredible amount in 5 days, and yet I could see the benefit of having more time in between topics and groups of films so that people could have more opportunities to reflect and relax in between. All in all, however, I believe that ISAFF this year was a unique offering of topics and films that I may have never been exposed to if not for Tasveer’s initiative. It will be great to see how this festival evolves to new heights next year!
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Sunday, September 28, 2008

Dialogue and Debate

By Shahana Dattagupta

Day 4 of ISAFF was an intense day. Not only because the core programming focusing on LGBTQ issues was featured on Saturday, but also because it was inherently discussion rich. In a way, the essence of this festival – to spur dialogue and debate – was experienced in full volume.

The day began with a panel discussion on Gender and Sexuality in Independent Films, featuring 4 prominent women whose work in film making, acting, or in academia has been ground-breaking in the area of queer representation in South Asian films. To me, it was interesting to hear the various perspectives and motivations for each artist’s work. Pratibha Parmar, the most senior of the lot, saw herself as activist first – and to her, filmmaking was the avenue she chose for activism, not a career. Veena Sood, actress and comedienne, has worked in several films representing queer issues, including Parmar’s recent Nina’s Heavenly Delights. She is seizing the opportunity that is being offered by the more open climate today, which was not available to her when she first became an actress. Sonali Gulati’s perspective was strongly influenced by her upbringing in India, and the fact that “coming out” is still such a difficult or impossible process for many fellow-Indians. Gayatri Gopinath, bringing the perspective of a historian and critic, had the independent, outside view of a Foucault-like observer. The panel discussion, moderated by the eloquent and quick-witted Sandeep Roy, had many defining moments. For me, one was the discussion on emerging visibility of queer issues in mainstream South Asian film and imagery. How much was appropriate? Who should be the author or editor of this visibility? Could greater visibility be counter-productive and even dangerous? These were some of the questions actively debated.

After an unexpectedly charming low-budget film 68 Pages, which explored a whole matrix of issues revolving around homosexuality, transsexual and transgender issues, AIDS, and socio-cultural context, the afternoon’s feature A Jihad for Love opened to a packed audience. Seattle native Afrose Ahmed introduced the film along with filmmaker Parvez Sharma himself, and her introduction was credited by Sharma as the most eloquent of any he has had worldwide, after having shown the film in 25 countries to 700,000 people! The film was incredibly moving, to say the least. Tracing the stories of people in 5 different countries struggling with the same essential question - Does Islam have a place for a “different” person like me? – one begins to have a very personal association with these people and their Jihad. How terribly heartbreaking can it be to have to make a choice – a choice between one’s bodily reality and one’s faith, family and homeland? Does such a terrible choice have to be made? Where can the answers be found? In the intense post-film discussion, one audience member asked, “Why must the answer (for all those people portrayed) always come from Islam?” My biggest take away was from Parvez’s comments: “Any reform can only come from the believers. External critique of a religion is counter-productive, as is constant theological debate. We must front theology with humanity.”

The post-film discussion carried on in more informal tones when Iftar was served over “gupshup.” It has got to be a rare opportunity to be able to socialize and talk-in depth to ground-breaking filmmakers and actors. The evening closed with more debate and dialogue, enabled by the presentation “Queering Bollywood: Alternative Sexualities in Popular Indian Cinema” by Sandeep Roy and Gayatri Gopinath. It was very interesting to trace through the imagery the presenters provided, the shift from covert representations of alternative sexualities to overt ones in the post-Fire times. Again the question was raised – does this relatively recent explicit imagery act in the service of understanding alternative sexuality with greater empathy? Does it perhaps take away from the more unspoken permissiveness of the covert times?

It is hard to believe that today is already the last day of this incredible film festival. Today’s program will be re-organized to close with a second screening of Eviction and accompanying dialogue with the Seattle-based refugees from Bhutan, offering them a unique space for sharing and expression. Today’s planned features include representation of more community-based issues in 3 short films on HIV+/AIDS by acclaimed filmmakers Santosh Sivan, Mira Nair and Vishal Bhardwaj, A Tasveer Youth Initiative, and an ACLF presentation on mixed-orientation relationships. The films Every Good Marriage Begins with Tears and Donkey in Lahore explore cross-cultural love, and Kagbeni by Bhusan Dahal presents new heights in Nepali filmmaking.

See you there!
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Saturday, September 27, 2008

Romance with a Twist

By Shahana Dattagupta

Day 3 of ISAFF had many themes running through it, but this one seemed to jump out at me: Romance with a Twist.

The evening started out with a lower turnout than one might expect on a Friday night, but filled in pretty quickly, as two full-length features (along with two shorts) were screened - Santosh Sivan’s Before the Rains, and Amyn Kaderali’s Kissing Cousins. Amyn flew up and introduced the evening, saying to the audience with his characteristic irreverent humor, “Before the Rains is a beautiful film. But it is also a sad film … it’s a tragedy. So after this, you need … well, a comedy about incest! So hope you’ll stay around!

Both feature films had love stories with a “twist”: one explored the extramarital affair between an Indian local beauty and a British tea exporter in the pre-independence, highly political context of Kerala, while the other explored the odd coming-of-age of a cynical Indian American bachelor in contemporary times, who suddenly becomes capable of feeling love again after his cousin walks into his life and right into his heart. Two totally different contexts – historic, cultural, political – but equally impossible loves to sustain.

In Before the Rains love was bound to be extinguished not just by the boundaries of marriage, but the large gap that separated the British colonials and the Indian locals fighting for independence. In Kissing Cousins, when Zara burst out laughing at Amir’s declaration of love, one felt the ultimate finality of familial boundaries in matters of sexuality, even though falling in love, in itself, is plausible in any circumstances. Before the Rains was told in a narrative of intrigue, while Kissing Cousins had Amyn’s signature of irreverence and humor, and both explored in unexpected ways what happens when love crosses the boundaries firmly established by society.

Although the political theme didn’t jump out obviously in Friday’s films, there was still a strong undercurrent. I was especially delighted to note that the rarely discussed politics of normative “couplehood” – something mainstream society is designed to fit all of us neatly into – was critiqued with a ruthless eye in Kissing Cousins. And of course, the politics between ruler and the ruled, colonizer and colonized, became the ultimate cause for destruction in Before the Rains.

It occurs to me that in the significant backdrop of the Presidential debates – a very political climate in America – audiences are still interested in the political debates sparked by the ISAFF line-up of films and discussions. Remembering that personal is political, today’s line-up is excellent for exploring how gender and sexuality issues play into your personal lives and perspectives. Don’t miss the important panel discussion “Gender and Sexuality in Independent Films” at noon. The courageous documentary A Jihad for Love, whose filmmaker Parvez Sharma will be present for discussion, and the presentation Queering Bollywood: Alternative Sexualities in Popular Indian Cinema will offer great opportunities for debate and dialogue. A 7pm “gupshup” (chat) is also an excellent opportunity to be up-close and personal with all the filmmaker guests.

Hope to see you there!
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The Community Speaks

By Shahana Dattagupta

Day 2 of ISAFF reminded me -experientially- what’s different about this film festival. It is not just about screening films, but about creating a safe space for dialogue about real, pressing socio-political issues.

Last night there was a unique alignment of vision and impact. 26 refugees evicted from Bhutan, who have just arrived in Seattle, made their way to ISAFF and were granted free admission. It had to be poignant for them to collectively watch Eviction, which was the first short film of the evening, and a filmographic presentation of their own plight.

The feature, My Daughter the Terrorist, presented a rarely heard voice of two young female warriors on the Tamil Tigers (LTTE) force in Sri Lanka. Following the film, a panel discussion with Seattle-based experts, moderated by Rukhsana Edwards, gave the subject an immediate accessibility, urgency and relevance in our lives. Mark Balmforth, from the UW Clowes Center for Conflict and Dialogue Studies and Brahmy Poologasingham, born and raised in-part in Northern Sri-Lanka where the conflict is primary located, provided both historic and personalized perspectives on the half-century long Tamil-Sinhalese conflict and its root in the British rule. As Mark commented, the film is unique because “…it turns on its head the common concept of a combatant and warrior…” helping to bring out the complexities, especially as it is told through the two female voices.

The 9pm package of 4 shots was simply delightful. It will be hard to forget the audience’s bursts of laughter with Pakistan’s Dame Edna saying, “I’m “trysexual”, and it’s “try” with a Y… I’ll try anything!” and at the irreverent humor of the incredible Dr. Sharadkumar Dicksheet who is so sick that he is practically the walking-dead himself, but works tirelessly to save hundreds of children’s lives in surgery camps in India.

Tonight, those of us who missed the SIFF screening of Before the Rains by acclaimed director Santosh Sivan will have another opportunity to see it. There is a second feature, the light-hearted Kissing Cousins, and two shorts – Released and Rewind. Amyn Kaderali, filmmaker of Kissing Cousins will be present for Q&A. Don’t miss this opportunity to see another great line-up of films!

Also, don’t miss the opportunity to participate in the free workshop Queer and Desi: Exploring LGBTQ Issues in the Desi Community. Remember, you don’t have to be queer to quell societal ignorance! Do read the blog entry on the illuminating experience I had attending a previous offering of this workshop: http://isaff-tasveer.blogspot.com/2008/09/questioning-cultivating-mindset-of-full.html
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Thursday, September 25, 2008

An Opening of Courage

Last night the 5th ISAFF opened with a bang! An energetic buzz rang in the lobby of the Broadway Performance Hall and the hall itself filled to 70% of its capacity. Archana Kumar, Kathak dancer and choreographer returned to Seattle to present a riveting piece specially crafted for ISAFF, dancing to the fusion music of Seattle-based Indian/Afro-Cuban band Anjuman.

The opening night screening consisted of two shorts – 24 Frames in a Day and Milind Soman Made Me Gay, and the Seattle premier of the feature – A World Unseen. Filmmakers of both shorts, Sonali Gulati and Harjant Gill respectively, made it all the way across the country. Lead actress of the feature Sheetal Sheth also graced the occasion, introducing the film to the audience.

Seeing the three films together made for an impactful experience. When issues of sexuality are overlaid with race, ethnicity, cultural biases, economics, politics of immigration … a powerful matrix is formed, heightening the experience and understanding of the issues. I was so violently struck by the line in the feature film that suggested, that it is unnatural for blacks and whites to be mixed in marriages, that I choked up. This happened only 50 years ago, and apartheid only ended in the 90s. Can you believe that?

It was also great to witness that Tasveer has successfully cultivated an evolving relationship with filmmakers and their work. Sonali has a historic association with ISAFF – every year a film of hers has been screened, and Tasveer’s first ever film screening back in 2002 was of her film Sum Total. Sheetal’s previous film Indian Cowboy was the closing night film for the first ISAFF, to which audience response was huge. As Sonali told the audience, “I have showed my films in hundreds of festivals across the world, but coming to ISAFF feels like coming home.”

The post-film discussion was rich. People asked Harjant, Sonali and Sheetal many good questions. One audience member asked, “What educative lesson would each of you like people to take away from your film, and inspired to learn more about?” Another person spoke up, identifying herself as coming from a very conservative Sikh family, and said that in the end all the films were about courage. “This gives me courage and inspiration to deal with the ongoing issues in my life.”

Indeed, ISAFF (re)presents courage. Do make it to another bold line-up tonight, including My Daughter the Terrorist and other films.

See http://isaff.tasveer.org/2008/schedule.php for details on schedule.
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Monday, September 22, 2008

a Jihad … for love

by Shahana Dattagupta

Jihad is a term floating around ubiquitously these days. In fact the “war on terror” has globally, and perhaps permanently, branded Jihad as the generic evil force against which the said war is being valiantly fought. As a gal raised in India, I have experienced the insidious fear of terrorist attacks and bomb-blasts in and around Delhi throughout my high school and college days in the late 80s through the early 90s, by “Muslim terrorist factions”. Of course the Mumbai serial blasts of March 1993 had rocked all our worlds. So, many years later, living in America in a climate of post-9/11, Osama’s fuzzy video threats, and incessant media chatter, my own understanding of Jihad has also been nebulously and conveniently packaged as a call for insurgence and violence against all non-believers in Islam.

Until just now.

When I saw that one of the films in this year’s ISAFF line-up was titled A Jihad for Love, I instantly felt that something was amiss, or at the very least incomplete, in my own understanding. A Jihad for Love ? Love ? Aren’t hatefulness and love completely opposite sentiments? How can there be a Jihad … for love…?

This sent me off to an apparent digression from the film itself. I was first determined to find out what Jihad really means. Yes, of course I could do internet searches … or I could become a scholar of Islamic texts at the lovely Seattle library. But since personal is political, I wondered, how do my closest (practicing or non-practicing) Muslim cohorts and movers-and-shakers in the Seattle community understand Jihad? What has Jihad meant to them in their personal lives? I started by asking a few of my courageous and beautiful Yoni ki Baat co-stars, several of whom are Muslim.

Says Sabina Ansari, Seattle-based writer and Chaya fundraising coordinator, (clarifying that she does not currently practice Islam and her understanding is based on teachers, not on firsthand scholarship of Islamic texts):

“There are two Jihads. One is the Jihad every Muslim has to face: the internal struggle to submit to Allah, the difficulty of letting go of the material and the physical in pursuit of a higher spiritual enlightenment and trust in the divine. (This meaning I like...) The other meaning is a holy war, classifiable as Jihad ONLY as self-defense, when being persecuted for your faith and belief in Allah and Islam, and there is no other choice but to defend yourself under threat. This meaning is the one that lends itself to distortion ... who defines "persecution" and "no other choice but”…?”

Says Sara Ahmed, Seattle-based activist, budding poet and a member of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community of Seattle:

Jihad in Islamic terminology means to make an effort, to endeavor and to strive in a noble way. Over the centuries this meaning of Jihad has been obliterated or at least diluted. This critical juncture in the Islamic world requires reviving and recapturing the true and pristine meaning of Jihad. Jihad can be divided into two broad categories. First is Jihad-e-akbar. This is Jihad against one's own person to curb sinful inclinations, i.e., purification of self. This is the most difficult Jihad and hence in terms of rewards and blessings is the highest category of Jihad. The second is Jihad-e-asghar. This is Jihad of the sword. This is communal Jihad and presupposes certain specific conditions. The Quran speaks of fighting only against those who first attack Muslims and this is the very condition laid down in other verses of the Holy Quran as well. The so-called verse of the sword in the Islamic scripture is often taken out of context as if it inculcates an indiscriminate massacre of all unbelievers.
(Personally) I relate more to the definition of Jihad, in the definition of Jihad-e-akbar (the greater Jihad) which is the Jihad against one's own struggles. We all strive for something; to me, self-improvement should be on the top of that list and THAT is the true definition of a Muslim. I feel like I've always had a struggle with defining my personal faith in the context of my community’s beliefs as well as in conformation with cultural traditions.

My eyes are opened, and I am grateful for having teachers in unexpected places. I now see how one can have a Jihad for love. Those struggling to reconcile their emotional and sexual desires of the physical realm with their higher, divine callings in the spiritual realm may be said to be fighting a Jihad for love. In the world of homosexuality, this Jihad becomes extremely difficult and painful, because same-sex love has been labeled sinful in Islam.

Made by gay Muslim filmmaker Pervez Sharma, A Jihad for Love is the world's first documentary on the coexistence of Islam and homosexuality (completing the third vertex of a triangle begun by the films For the Bible Tells me So and Trembling before G_d showing similar themes in Christianity and Judaism respectively). It is filmed in 12 countries and 9 languages, recording with great risk, courage and compassion, the hidden lives of gay and lesbian Muslims in countries like Iran, Pakistan, Egypt, Turkey, France, India, and South Africa, in some of which the laws based on Quranic interpretations allow torture and even execution of homosexuals. But as the official description of the film says, “… the real-life characters of A Jihad for Love aren't willing to abandon a faith they cherish despite its flaws. Instead, they struggle to reconcile their ardent belief with the innate reality of their being. The international chorus of gay and lesbian Muslims brought together by A Jihad for Love doesn't seek to vilify or reject Islam, but rather negotiate a new relationship to it. In doing so, the film's extraordinary characters point the way for all Muslims to move beyond the hostile, war-torn present, toward a more hopeful future.”

Thus, the film A Jihad for Love portrays a valiant and noble internal struggle, and in doing so, seeks to reclaim the meaning of Jihad as personal struggle, and to obliterate its portrayal in the Western media almost exclusively to mean "holy war" synonymous with violent acts perpetrated by extremist Muslims. At ISAFF this year, filmmaker Pervez Sharma will be present for a post-film discussion. What a rare treat! Each one of us fights Jihads of our own, whether we are Muslim or not, gay or not. I hope the halls will be filled with people wanting to participate in the raising of consciousness bravely begun by this film and all its global voices.

Shahana Dattagupta is a Seattle-based architectural designer, visual artist, classical vocalist, stage actor and writer. She has written and performed in Tasveer’s production of Yoni ki Baat in 2007 and 2008.

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Saturday, September 20, 2008

Q/A with Mala Nagarajan

By - Mala Nagarajan, co-founder of Trikone Northwest, a Seattle based non-profit organization that provides a supportive and safe space for differently oriented South Asians.

What does it mean actually, this 'queer' thing?
The word ‘queer’ means different things to different people. Many older Asian Pacific Islanders, including South Asians, who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, don't like to use the word 'queer' - in part because it has been used as a slur to hurt our community and in part, because it has no cultural translation in many of our histories or native ethnic languages.

Many younger Asian Pacific Islanders, including South Asians who identify as gay, bisexual, or transgender, have reclaimed the word 'queer', that is, taken the word back and used it in a positive sense, so that difference can stand for a sense of pride instead of shame. To them, it is a word that represents a broad and dynamic spectrum of feelings and identities that simply means 'other'. In this case, 'other' than heterosexual (sexual orientation/identity), 'other' than only male or only female (gender presentation/identity), and 'other' than married in a heterosexual relationship (mixed identity relationships, polyamorous vs. monogamous).

Here are a few definitions that might be helpful…

From http://www.pbs.org/pov/pov2003/georgiegirl/resources_04.html: queer — Traditionally a pejorative term for non-heterosexuals, this has been re-appropriated by some lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people to describe themselves as, for example, dykes, fags, omnigenders and trannies. Some value these terms for their defiance and because they are more inclusive — not only of lesbians and gay men but also of bisexuals, transgender people and others. Nevertheless, these terms are not universally used within the varied LGBT communities; so a casual, "Hey there, queer," especially if used by a non-LGBT person, may not be returned with friendly banter.

From http://www.glaad.org/media/guide/transfocus.php & http://www.glaad.org/media/guide/glossary.php:
Queer Traditionally a pejorative term, queer has been appropriated by some LGBT people to describe themselves. Some value the term for its defiance and because it can be inclusive of the entire LGBT community. Nevertheless, it is not universally accepted even within the LGBT community and should be avoided unless quoting someone who self-identifies that way.

Why are we doing this, dedicating 1/2 of the festival for queer programs?
That’s a good question. It might help us to share some history about how we grow stronger together as a community, and to think about what kind of community we want to build. A good example of how our local community has grown stronger together is to look at how, as a community, what we know, think, and do about domestic violence has changed over the last decade.

A little over ten years ago, very few people in the South Asian community talked about domestic violence. Individuals hardly talked about it, and communities hardly talked about it. In fact, most of our community felt helpless in how to deal with domestic violence. They might feel bad for the individuals – for the mother, the wife, the child, and children – affected by the violence. But often they thought there is nothing they could do to help. They might feel like it was none of their business, because it was a private family matter.

Individuals who were surviving the daily torment of abuse had no place to turn to. Individuals who suffered from domestic violence in the past had no way of relating the violence that they experienced with the communities they lived in. Often, they lived and still do live in shame, thinking they did something to cause the violence.

All of this affects how individuals within the community relate to each other. Typically, it means there’s less openness, less trust, and less community good will – which in sum hurts ALL of us.

In the King County area, it was only when people braved to break the silence that survivors were able to access community resources to help them escape their daily suffering. It was only when people learned more about domestic violence and how it affected their own communities, that community members began to realize their part in the silence, and how they could break that silence and be of support to the families experiencing domestic violence. Slowly, the more and more people in our community were able to bring voice to their convictions - that a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a co-worker, a loved one – shouldn't have to endure violence against them, the more the community tolerance began to change. As the community stopped tolerating the violence, the more it became difficult for abusers to continue, unabatedly, abusing.

In the King County area, we have Chaya, Tasveer, and many countless individuals, families, and community leaders for that change in community attitudes and perceptions. We have those individuals, families, community leaders, and community organizations to thank for having the courage to stand up, as an ally to those who had could not voice their pain, to stand up as an ally and to educate, to outreach, and to support. And, no doubt, we, as a community, still have a long way to go, but the pain of endless silence has been broken. At least, we can all begin to take action and begin the healing process together.

Today, we thank our community organizations like Tasveer and Chaya for taking a risk, a HUGE risk, about breaking the silence about another issue that conflicts many in our community: What it feels like to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, and/or transgender, or what it feels like to be questioning these thoughts and feelings in ourselves – AND also be South Asian?

Yes, here in King County. Yes, in our community, in all our communities.

It's wrong. It's unnatural. No, no, these things don't really happen in our community. It's a western influence. It's those perverted individuals that are causing respectable individuals in our community to change. We need to put an end to this. We don't need to talk about this, because talking about it will just cause more trouble in the community, in our communities. Why do you want to destroy our community, communities? No one is interested in talking about this. We shouldn't be talking about this. This doesn't represent our community. It's an aberration to nature.

It's not like I haven't heard this before. I heard it from my own voice growing up. I remember how much I hated anyone who was even remotely rumored to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, or gender non-conforming. What a bunch of child perverts! They should be in mental institutions. And at the same time, inside I longed to reach out to them and ask them why? How do you know? Are you sure? Can I even speak these things? Maybe I should be locked up in a mental institution. Do I even deserve to live?

From the time I was four, I knew there was something different, something I couldn't share with anyone. How did I know that? I didn't even know what sex was at that age. But I KNEW there was something wrong with me. Sometimes I tried to fit in. Sometimes I got depressed and suicidal. There are many of us that went through this - some who are still living, some who aren't.

And on a daily basis, we, who are struggling with these issues, are having to choose between the most important, most basic, most taken-for-granted values and our own survival; our relationships with friends, family; and how authentic we are within our own cultural, educational, work, religious, and ethnic communities and institutions. And trust me, it’s not a choice we would like to make. It’s a choice we’re being forced to make by the community at large - being forced to choose between our families and our ethnic communities, and our LGBTQ allied communities of support.

But we really don’t want to have to choose. We want to live fully and authentically, as we are. We are more than just our sexual orientation, our gender identities, and our same-sex relationships. We are more than just who we love and who we choose to sleep with. We are your daughters, your sons, your brothers, your sisters, your teachers, your students, your spouses, your aunts, your uncles, your volunteers, your friends, your community leaders, your co-workers; we want to have honest and meaningful relationships with you; we want to contribute in our society in a positive way – we want to be all of that, we want to be the best that WE can be. And drawing from a xxx quote, “All that we ask is that you let us.”

Here's my question to you. While you may not know me, there are many people who are LGBTQ or struggling with these dilemmas. You work with them, live with them, shop at the grocery store with them, stand in the gas line and ride the bus with them. You just don't know it. At some point in your life, someone close to you will come out to you.

You might wonder why they didn't trust you with that information, or why they didn't tell you earlier, or why they are telling you now. Or you might ask why they are the way they are, how they know for sure, why they want to hurt you so much.

To most of us, coming out as a lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender person is not easy. And it doesn’t really get easier even if we’ve done it thousands of times. If they share it with you, it means they want to have a more genuine, honest, relationship with you.

If we didn’t share it with you the first time you met us, the second time you socialized with us, or the twentieth time we worked together, you may have to ask yourself, "What did I do? Did I simply help to perpetuate the silence, help foster the shame, or did I do something to help educate our community on how to be an ally, how to find resources in the community, and how to build a stronger community that challenges the cultural notions of what is 'right' and 'wrong' – one that doesn't stomp on rights and needs of our loved ones. You will have to ask yourself some very difficult questions – do I want to protect and support the people in my life that are meaningful, even if it means others might think I am gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgender? Even if I might criticized and shamed in the community? Even if I am afraid?

Why is Tasveer devoting half of their ISAFF program about these issues? Because they have been witness to the silencing, the silenced, and the silencer. Because they believe in you. Because they believe in our willingness, as South Asian communities, to learn, respect, and honor our differences. Because they believe in our ability to change, our willingness to reflect on our attitudes and beliefs, our behaviors and actions, and our ability to move our communities towards positive social change.

And the leaders of Tasveer are asking you to be brave with them, to stand beside them, to go talk to your friends, neighbors, and community, and let them know that they are going to miss the BEST Tasveer event ever. They're asking you to talk with regular Tasveer festival-goers, and tell them that this is an important issue for the community to learn about, that festival-goers shouldn't be afraid, no more than they should be afraid of going to a Chaya or Tasveer event.

So, yes, be afraid. Many of us are. But accept the challenge. Ask the festival-goers you know what their concerns are, what they are truly afraid of if ½ of Tasveer’s ISAFF programming is ‘queer’. And if you have been afraid, then share that with them too. But ask them also to trust you, to join you in this journey of discovery, to learn with you – to learn ‘what we don’t know what we don’t know,’ and tell them you’d like to know they support you in figuring out what is so important about this ‘queer’ community. All this and more, and only if you want to. You don’t have to join us in this journey, if you don’t want to. You have every right in the world to step back and say, I can’t do this. That IS your choice.

I don't think the word 'queer' should be part of the ISAFF theme tag line...
Maybe it shouldn't. Imagine, this little five-letter word can has so much power to dissuade the masses from coming. Imagine how the people who where this label, who try to own this label, who try their best not to make a source of shame - imagine how they must feel to know this word affects you so negatively.

I have mixed feelings about it myself. I think know your audience. Will this only attract the choir – the people who are already comfortable with their own sexuality and sexual orientation, the allies who don't feel offended if someone were to think they were 'queer' anyway, the folks who are by our side on a daily basis? I do wonder. Maybe Tasveer should have made the tagline something more innocuous like "obliterated identities", or "living in doubt, fear, and pride" or then risk people coming who are violent towards people like me, who would rather I be dead and disappear, who would rather pretend I don't exist.

But maybe it should use the word ‘queer’. Maybe Tasveer, ISAFF, and you can help break the silence.

If someone would offer you 20,000 dollars of sponsorship money if you remove the word 'queer' from the tag line, wouldn't you do it?
Tasveer has never been about money. It's been about values, about community, about dialogue through an alternative to mainstream commercial films.

Does Tasveer identify as queer?
Though I am just one of many Tasveer community members, I would say Tasveer is about independent thinking and encouraging people to have a dialogue, to challenge what they always assumed as normal. And that Tasveer is exactly what it says it is: "We provide an alternative to the commercial films of South Asia. Many people only know about Bollywood but we explore the vast film expressions that come out of South Asia - experimental shorts films, political documentaries, narrative art films from the subcontinent, indy narratives by Diaspora, classic silent films, music videos, and more. Whether aspiring or a veteran, we support all independent filmmakers working with South Asian themes. By screening independent films, we engage the community in dialogue and action around sociopolitical and cultural themes that are specific to South Asia - Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Maldives, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and Tibet."

We need to publicize this event in such a way that we don't loose the audience we have acquired so far, many people won't come as soon as they see the word 'queer' in the tag line. We need to make it clear that only 50% of the programming is queer.
That is one way to do it. And it will reinforce what people already think about us 'queers'. Or you can make sure it is the BEST Tasveer event ever, and that the films screened have impact on a wider audience, that the films will move hearts and minds. It took my parents and I thirteen years to build an authentic relationship of trust, love, respect, and it is a relationship that is much stronger than it ever was before, and one that we have each mindfully, intentionally engaged in. Not one that is stressed and conflicted with obligation, resentment, and failure to meet each other’s expectations.

But, you're right. If Tasveer doesn't want to lose a portion of its mainstream audience, then each and every one of us needs to make sure we do our best to promote the events, the learning opportunities, and keep telling folks how great of a program it is, that you helped put it together, that you really want them to be there, and how much they're going to miss if they don’t come.

And if it's not something you, who have been advocates, through independent film, of many 'breaking the silence' efforts...if it's not something you can get behind and promote, then help me out…tell me, as a queer, a lesbian South Asian woman – tell me when, where, and how I can ever build a life worth living? Because to be honest, I can’t do it without you.
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Friday, September 19, 2008

Donkey in Lahore

By Shahana Dattagupta

Donkey in Lahore is a documentary about a very unlikely love across cultural, religious and geographic borders as far apart as you could imagine … yes, Australia and Pakistan! A love across continents! While this is a documentary, it takes on somewhat of a reality-TV flair because the narrator, whom one never sees but hears, voyeuristically follows the development of this love-story in real-time.

Brian, a Goth puppeteer raised in a vagabond lifestyle by itinerant parents who suddenly turned Christian, makes his way to Pakistan for a puppet show. There he meets and falls instantly in love with Amber, who he thinks embodies all the “values” he has lived by all his life! Amber returns his feelings, but in the characteristically austere, reticent and matter-of-fact manner one might see in one’s parents’ generation. Brian returns to Australia and is so consumed by his love for Amber, as well as for the Pakistani way of life that he converts to Islam and is re-born as Aamir. Aamir’s Christian parents and openly gay sister are taken by surprise but are good-naturedly accepting of his new ways - name, prayer cap, teetotaler vow and all.

When Aamir returns to Pakistan with hopes of reuniting with Amber, her family places several conditions for his marriage to her. After months of struggle in Australia to fulfill these financial obligations, he travels yet again to Pakistan, now determined to marry Amber. Will Aamir’s faith and determination see him through the struggles, and melt the hearts of Amber’s family? Will they allow their little girl to travel across several seas to be with a strange, white man? Can a marriage between Aamir and Amber even be sustained through such vast differences in cultural background, lifestyle and expectations?

Come watch Donkey in Lahore to find out! And who’s the Donkey in Lahore? Is it Aamir we’re talking about? No, it’s the new, endearing puppet character he creates for the streets and television of Pakistan!


Shahana Dattagupta is a Seattle-based architectural designer, visual artist, classical vocalist, stage actor and writer. She has written and performed in Tasveer’s production of Yoni ki Baat in 2007 and 2008.
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Saturday, September 13, 2008

Questioning: Cultivating a Mindset of Full Openness

By Shahana Dattagupta

Homosexuality has been a feature of human culture and expression since earliest history. In East Asian history (e.g., China) it has been recorded since 600 BCE; in ancient Greece certain forms of erotic attraction and sexual pleasure between males were often an ingrained, accepted part of the cultural norm, and homosexual expression in native Africa took a variety of forms. Homosexual and transgender individuals were common among other pre-conquest civilizations in Latin America such as the Aztecs, Quechas, Moches, Zapotecs, and the Tupinamba of Brazil, while among indigenous people of the Americas (prior to European colonization), the most common form of same-sex sexuality centered around the figure of the Two-Spirit individual*. In South Asia, ancient texts such as the Puranas, the Mahabharata, the Kamasutra, the Panchatantra, as well as medieval texts in Persian, Turkish and Punjabi are replete with references to same-sex love.** That so many centuries after the rise of the Abrahamic religions condemning homosexuality there continues to be this much angst and need for political debate on something so intrinsic to human nature is, at the very least, confounding to me. Moreover, we are 8 years into the 21st century, and religion still remains intertwined with politics!

This year’s ISAFF is exploring the politics of love, and in this course, LGBTQ issues in the South Asian context naturally occupy center stage. In spite of the universality of gender and sexuality issues, there are specific cultural, familial, religious and political aspects to their South Asian context, and relatively few safe spaces to talk about them openly. As a community-based organization, Tasveer is seizing the opportunity to spark dialogue, consciousness-raising, and skill-building around queer issues within the South Asian community. The ISAFF program includes a free workshop on Friday, September 26th at 6:00pm, entitled Queer and Desi: Exploring LGBTQ Issues in the South Asian Community (pre-registration required). As stated in the festival program, “The focus of this workshop will be to provide a space for participants to engage with basic training and dialogue regarding issues of gender identity and sexual orientation in a South Asian context.” The workshop will be facilitated by Gita Mehrotra, who is a Ph.D. candidate in Social Welfare at the University of Washington, and has been involved with community-based work in various parts of the U.S. for the past 12 years, with a focus on social justice in South Asian, API communities, and queer communities.

Last Sunday, a pre-festival version of this workshop was offered by Gita to all Tasveer and ISAFF volunteers. Although I have thus far found myself to be highly open and all-encompassing about issues of sexuality, participating in this workshop provided me an unexpectedly expansive experience. Through the various exercises in the workshop, 20-odd Tasveer volunteers involved themselves in critical self-reflection about early impressions, expectations and language regarding gender and sexuality. We were asked to ponder rather simple questions such as:

When did you first learn you were expected to be heterosexual? How did you learn it? From whom?

When have you given someone else the message that you expected them to be heterosexual? How did you communicate this?

What did you learn growing up about what it meant to be to be a boy or girl? How did you learn it? From whom?

Through the couple of hours of exercises and discussion, I had an epiphany: tolerance, acceptance or support do not equate to full openness. A simple but significant nuance to underscore this: despite political movements in support of homosexuality and the rights of people of same-sex orientation, much of the debate is still rooted in a fundamental premise, that being heterosexual is the “norm,” and those “others” outside the norm need to be “given” equal rights. This prevalent attitude of normativeness of heterosexuality gives rise to terms such as “alternative lifestyle,” signaling rightaway that homosexuality is other-than-normal. So, as long as someone offers, “I support the alternative lifestyles of gay people,” this kind of “support” is still based in considering heterosexuality the only normal way to be, as if someone who is normal, has generously granted someone who is abnormal a seat in society that was not rightfully his in the first place! (There can be varying degrees of such normative thinking; I was reminded of my otherwise unusually open-minded, progressive parents telling me in my late teens that homosexuality could be temporary behavior that can be “normalized” with the right psychological help!)

Early on in the workshop, I asked Gita what the term “Questioning” meant in the expansion of LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer and Questioning). She requested that I hold this query until later in the workshop. Soon, however, I did not need Gita to answer my question explicitly. As we worked through the exercises, I began to understand that in the language of gender and sexuality “Questioning” could mean, on the one end, a state of uncertainty about one’s gender identity, sexuality or sexual preferences, while on the other end, it could signify an openness to a constant state of exploration within the full spectrums of gender and sexuality. At its best, Questioning is a mindset, not simply a state of mind at any given moment in time.

Full openness requires a constant, questioning mindset in all areas of life. Questioning is not an ambivalence or a lack of commitment to opinions or convictions. It is an active, responsible process of remaining open towards all possibilities at all times, while presently holding the most enlightened position possible to guide thought, speech and action. It takes hard work - critical introspection and an unfailing commitment to abolishing one’s own ignorance at every turn. Every unquestioned, default and normative position bears with it a dark other-side of possible hatred towards and resulting oppression of somebody. So, until there is conscious cultivation of a mindset of questioning by all individuals in society, full openness will not exist, and oppression of all types and forms will continue to thrive insidiously.

Please let there be no more ignorance! I encourage all in the greater Seattle community to engage in this wonderful opportunity Tasveer has provided us for open dialogue in a safe, caring space. You don’t have to be queer or straight to participate. You don’t have to agree or disagree with anything. You only need to respectfully and responsibly engage in questioning, in an effort to create a mindset of full openness in our community and society.


*See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homosexuality for a good historic overview.
**For those curious to understand more deeply, recommended reading is Same-Sex Love in India by Ruth Vanita and Salim Kidwai

Shahana Dattagupta is a Seattle-based architectural designer, visual artist, classical vocalist, stage actor and writer. She has written and performed in Tasveer’s production of Yoni ki Baat in 2007 and 2008.
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