Shaneel Lal, 22, is Fijian-Indian and is proud to be brown. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Shaneel Lal, 22, is Fijian-Indian and is proud to be brown. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Until 17, I identified as gay, and then I started identifying as queer, a catch-all term that for me has shed its derogatory origins.
But even with an ambiguous identity, I felt I did not fit in the LGBTQIA+ acronym.
A lot of discomfort with the acronym camefrom its lack of recognition of my culture.
I am a native Fijian and Indian; in my culture, there are Vakasalewalewa, Veilasami Vakatagane and Hijra. These identities have been loosely translated to transgender and gay.
Vakasalewalewa, Veilasami Vakatagane and Hijra are not the same as transgender and gay.
These identities recognise the diversity of sexuality and gender in indigenous communities.
Indigenous queerness is precolonial and distinct from the identities captured in the LGBTQIA+ acronym.
It is not the words that we cannot translate. An attempt to translate indigenous queer identities to match alphabets in the LGBTQIA+ acronym will cause indigenous identities to lose their cultural meaning and significance.
The LGBTQIA+ acronym leaves no room for indigenous queerness.
My people are Vakasalewalewa and Hijra. There is no V or H in LGBTQIA+.
Indigenous identities are rendered invisible by the + that follows the acronym that privileges white identities, or white identities are used synonymously to indigenous queer identities.
Colonialisation uprooted indigenous queer identities. Neo-colonialism is imposing white identities onto indigenous peoples.
Green Party co-leader Marama Davidson, Shaneel Lal, and Green MP Golriz Ghahraman. Photo / Becki Moss
It is not only indigenous queer identities made invisible by the +.
Minority identities in the queer community, such as nonbinary, demisexual, and pansexual, do not have a letter in the acronym.
The question is, who decides which identities get representation in the acronym and which identities are hidden behind the +?
White people have dominated the queer discourse for decades. White queer identities gained acceptance and familiarity before indigenous queer identities. This has naturally led to an acronym that only consists of white identities.
Nonbinary, demisexual, and pansexual people do not make up large parts of the queer community and are, therefore, deemed unworthy of an alphabet in the acronym.
The + once represented all the queer identities we could not put into words. Now it acts as the gatekeeper of the acronym, keeping out minority queer identities and privileging the majority.
That flies in the face of the hallmark of queer resistance.
We have historically been and remain a minority.
We fought to be visible in a world that tried to erase us. Yet here we are, making those who are a minority in our community invisible.
It is wrong to deny these communities an alphabet in the acronym because they are a minority within our community. Equally, if we give these identities an alphabet in the acronym, the acronym will grow to LGBTQIANDP+.
It will get out of hand when you factor in all the identities in the queer community.
Catch-all terms such as queer and rainbow have been used for a while now.
Queer was once a derogatory slur. Younger generations have reclaimed queer and, to an extent, f*g, but its reclamation is happening rapidly. They are points of pride rather than shame.
The use of the acronym is decreasing amongst younger generations. However, queer remains a community term that should not be used by non-queer folk.
Non-queer people are welcome to use the rainbow.
We do not need to ditch the acronym immediately, but the queer community must have an internal dialogue about its present-day purpose.
As the queer community faces an evolving recognition of more queer identities, the LGBTQIA+ acronym is unbecoming.
The acronym feels inherently anti-indigenous, majoritarian, and tedious. We cannot sustain the acronym whilst giving fair representation to and honouring all the diversity of the queer community.
