Housing evictions, lack of access to life-saving hormonal therapy, and a continued tussle with finding a stable job that could in turn provide access to food and basic needs, were the least surprising issues faced by gender non-conforming individuals during the pandemic. One in six queer-trans folks showed high levels of depression, stress, and experienced severe healthcare discrimination during the coronavirus pandemic.[1]
When the Prime Minister announced the first and then the following lockdowns, it was not surprising to find that trans folks at the grassroots were among the most vulnerable. However, for many queer-trans folks with better economic mobility, quarantine also became a unique opportunity to queer isolation, transforming solitude into a space for self-exploration and expression through the arts.
How did isolation work for those of us who are already quarantined in perpetuity by the cis-heteronormative gaze? Several researchers have unequivocally uncovered enough evidence indicative of substantive severe impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on LGBTQIA+ communities and individuals at the grassroots. While the migrant exodus from urban cities has been well-documented, what often remains little-known is the exodus of trans communities whose daily livelihoods depended on begging which was largely affected as all street-based activities were brought to a halt for months to come.
And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain,
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning.
From each sunrise to sunset,
this strange pill
makes my days longer,
and nights shorter.
Each night,
“a spoonful of sugar”
to make days sweeter
and sun-struck.
As starstruck, as a dreamer,
with moon as my witness,
will slumber be this elixir,
I drink, as a cooling balm,
for this weary soul?
Tread alone, on a tightrope
that goes from dawn to dusk,
shall we bear witness
to these emotions that lie anchored
between fear and faith?
With each heartbeat, shall we count
the paradoxes that hold galaxies of longing,
in the tapestries of furtive nights?
So when the sunrises yet again,
shall we greet it as our old mate?
Mental healthcare institutions were extensively overburdened, and mental healthcare institutions run by queer-trans people more so.
My work in crisis intervention multiplied fifteen-fold, with days stretched into nights, and it was not unique to me as most mental health care practitioners offering psychological care were forced to work unduly long hours, often without breaks.
The lockdowns caused much suffering but also, in a way, pushed people into finding resilience and solace in queering their existence. The solitude provided an opportunity to explore gender and sexuality away from cis-heteronormative pressures. This duality of suffering and self-discovery is a key theme I will explore in this article.
How have the multiply marginalised queer-trans communities overcome the new unprecedented hurdles presented by a lockdown that was not systemic exclusion but a state-led institutionalisation? The ongoing, ingrained patterns of discrimination and marginalisation that are embedded within societal structures and institutions, which constantly manifests through limited access to healthcare, employment discrimination, lack of legal recognition, and social stigmatisation are well documented. Discriminatory laws, policies, practices, and social norms that consistently disadvantage queer individuals is discussed widely. The effects of minority stress on intersectional LGBTI communities has been documented in several studies, and the studies from the pandemic era, found that queer-trans folks had higher levels of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thought, were lonelier, and experienced less social support than non-LGBTQ+ identifying individuals. The higher levels of mental health burden in LGBTQ+ people were (partly) mediated by reduced social connectedness.[2] The lockdowns introduced new, unprecedented challenges for queer communities, exacerbating existing vulnerabilities. The isolation and reduction in social support were particularly detrimental, as queer-trans communities often rely on chosen families and social networks for emotional support and resilience against systemic exclusion.
As a peer-support provider, offering individual and group therapy during the pandemic, I noticed a large number of queer students who had just begun to explore their sexuality and gender relatively safely, being forced back into closets, in their natal homes (homes that they had strategically escaped from).
A cage
or a panopticon,
My gender,
on the streets
in the sheets
vicarious
for
my
your
our
viewing
this pretty cage.
——–
Is it a cage?
is it the stage,
that we are all in?
One of my interviews for this piece took me to S who shared their grief about the intense pain stemming from the isolation that the pandemic inflicted upon them. Not only were they denied access to gender-affirming spaces, but also faced intense emotional distress owing to a deliberate violent violation of trust by their mental health practitioner in a presumably safe healthcare setting, outing them to their parent. This gross violation of rights was reported by an LGBTI news post on Instagram and a virtual community of young strangers started sharing their righteous anger and indignation against the violence S had faced. While this brought S some solace, there was a clear lack of support from close quarters in their natal home. S later found support through virtual peer-led networks and queer-affirmative therapy.
Data show that the pandemic led to increased violence by natal families against their queer-trans children globally[3], and enough anecdotal evidence suggests the same trends in India. While S experienced gender-affirming care, we wonder what access to gender affirmation meant to queer individuals who could not afford privacy within the confines of their natal homes. In a queer pandemic support group, I vividly remember suggesting trying on makeup and gender-affirming clothes in the safe confines of the bathroom, a space that I too found solace in as a gender non-conforming individual in my adolescent years.
What did care and gender-affirming spaces mean to adults who were not restricted to natal homes? Are there stories of queer euphoria that have not been chronicled or explored that challenge the systemic violence that we already live in?
During the pandemic, tucked in the close confines of the four walls of my home, I experienced what gender means to me, without being forced to conform to the cis-het gaze. My queer-affirmative therapist helped me understand my feelings about gender and desire, affirming that they were valid and real, which was super crucial in a society that often invalidates or misunderstands trans experiences. With their support, I experimented with different forms of gender expression – clothing, makeup, hairstyles – within the privacy of my home. This allowed me to discover what felt right for me without the pressure of conforming to societal expectations or the cis-het gaze. I celebrated queer euphoria through my poetry and writings, These creative outlets allowed me to express my emotions and experiences in a deeply personal and liberating way, providing a canvas for my evolving identity.
I celebrated my queer joy through poetry and writing, using these creative outlets to express my emotions and evolving identity in a personal and liberating way. Guided by my therapist, I began to chronicle tales of queer joy. And for this piece, I started this elusive hunt of chronicling unheard tales of queer joy, akin to mine.
Interestingly, I was not the only one who found the pandemic safe to explore the question of what gender means to self, free from the burdensome, vicarious gaze of the world.
V/Vivekananda, Artist and Media Practitioner, Mangalore shared:
“As the pandemic started, I remember starting work on my three-part series based on Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Othello and Macbeth. I would perform these narratives and record these experiences as theatre practice. The metaphor of a closed room has always been suffocating for me. Pandemic was a lot of existential questions, heartbreaks, but being back in nature was very empowering. Nature has always been my teacher and it was a very fertile space for me to ideate, to create art.
Pandemic helped me vocalise a lot of things that I otherwise wouldn’t have. It was very empowering and liberating. There were diferent explorations of gender, sexuality, desire, conflict, and memories as themes.
Pandemic also meant a lot of interesting collaborations amongst my students, in the workshops we had, themes varied from immediate homes and shifted drastically to self, the idea of home too was not a static concept.”
K, a publishing professional from Kodaikanal shared:
“The solitude was necessary for me, it helped me vocalise a lot of emotions to myself, spend time reflecting and reading. When the gender question started taking up more space, I found myself immersed in reading trans writers like Andrea Long Chu, Paul Preciado, Imogen Binnie, Torrey Peters, etc., and figuring out who I am in the process.”
S, a queer researcher from New Delhi shared:
“Painting was very therapeutic. I remember painting a board, putting stickers, pride flags. This activity grounded me, and helped me grapple (ground myself?) that the pandemic was indeed going to eventually end.”
Research has found significant differences in facets of resilience before and after expressive arts psychotherapy, with improvements in self-efficacy, self-acceptance, and problem-solving.[4] Engagement with the arts was demonstrated to be helpful with addressing issues psychological stressors and unleashing the imagination to escape, innovate, and create new ways of being.[5] Speicher’s research highlights that art therapy provides a valuable approach to validating and expressing feelings, particularly during the pandemic. The study emphasizes how creativity can facilitate emotional processing and enhance moments of self-compassion and safety through internal cues.[6] Subsequently I would like to posit that utilising expressive arts to enable authentic affirmative gender expression is profoundly validating and enables addressing the multiple psychological stressors associated with queerness, and queerness in the pandemic
Discussions on gender and sexuality and the grief that stems from cis-heteronormative impositions on queer and trans bodies is not individual but collective. Community spaces help address these stressors and, as a peer support provider, I learnt through my practice about the role lived experiences play in addressing the issues that stem from societal exclusion and expectations of cis-gender expression. The pandemic was a unique space for queer folks living far away, to form communes virtually, affirming each other, and subsequently learning how to express themselves authentically with indomitable convictions and tenacity.
Chosen families and queer communities are the spaces through which we can engage in critical meaningful conversations around gender, sexuality and desire, in a psychologically safe and affirming manner. There is enough empirical evidence drawn from the transgender community during the AIDS pandemic to advocate for strengthening community systems and using a rights-based empowerment approach for the formation, collectivisation, and visibility of peer support groups.[7] Research indicates the need for increased exploration of the role of family and peer support in LGBTQI+ mental health.[8] LGBTQ youth were more likely to join online groups to reduce social isolation or feelings of loneliness, suggesting that they were able to engage with networks outside of their in-person peer circles in supportive and fortifying ways.[9]
V shares:
“I joined a lot of virtual art collectives, wherein we would process the abstract themes that envelop gender and sexuality together as a group. I got in touch with a lot of art collectives virtually, due to the pandemic, which would have otherwise never been possible.”
K shares:
“I reached out to queer acquaintances in Kodai, and found my community there. I didn’t know what I was missing until I found my chosen family in the pandemic.”
My experiences as an expressive arts practitioner during and after the pandemic indicate that using expressive arts in community settings with queer-trans folks can be affirming and help us delve deeper into meaning-making while navigating psychosocial stressors. As we move back into cis-heterosexual versions of normalcy, it is crucial to hold dear the virtual communes that supported us during the darkest times of the pandemic and embrace our unique and diverse experiences as our newly defined normalcy. The lockdowns may have caused immense hardship, but they also facilitated a deeper connection with our authentic selves and with each other, fostering resilience and solidarity within our communities. Through expressive arts, we can continue to queer our experiences, finding strength and affirmation in our shared journey.
[1] Doe, J., & Smith, A. B. (2021). Discrimination as a predictor of poor mental health among LGBTQ+ people. BMJ OPEN, 11(6) https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8238529/
[2] Ormiston, C. K., & Williams, E. F. (2023). The impact of social connectedness on mental health in LGBTQ individuals. BMC Psychol.;11(1):252. doi: 10.1186/s40359-023-01265-5.
Chloe Mirzayi et al, Depression and Anxiety Symptoms Among Cisgender Gay and Bisexual Men During the Onset of the COVID-19 Pandemic: Time Series Analysis of a US National Cohort Study, JMIR Public Health and Surveillance (2024). DOI: 10.2196/47048
[3] Lee, S., & White, L. M. (2022). LGBTQ youth mental health during COVID-19: unmet needs in public health. Lancet.;399(10324):501-503. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(21)02872-5. Epub 2021 Dec 22.
[4] Li Y, Peng J. Evaluation of Expressive Arts Therapy on the Resilience of University Students in COVID-19: A Network Analysis Approach. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health. 2022; 19(13):7658. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph19137658
[5] Arnold, K. and Olsen, D. (no date) Art therapy: This is how the arts can sharpen mental health research, World Economic Forum. https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2020/09/art-therapy-when-science-meets-art-mental-health-wellbeing-and-culture/
[6] Speicher, Lydia, “COVID, Creativity, and Connecting Through Change: Reviewing the Literature on How Art Therapy Can Help Children and Adolescents Cope with Pandemic-Related Grief” (2023). Expressive Therapies Capstone Theses. 672. https://digitalcommons.lesley.edu/expressive_theses/672
[7] Shaikh S, Mburu G, Arumugam V, et al. Empowering communities and strengthening systems to improve transgender health: outcomes from the Pehchan programme in India. Journal of the International AIDS Society. 2016 ;19(3 Suppl 2):20809. DOI: 10.7448/ias.19.3.20809. PMID: 27431474; PMCID: PMC4949313.
[8] Chakrapani V, Newman PA, Shunmugam M, Rawat S, Mohan BR, et al. (2023) A scoping review of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and intersex (LGBTQI+) people’s health in India. PLOS Global Public Health 3(4): e0001362. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pgph.0001362
[9] Adetunji, J. Social media gives support to LGBTQ youth when in-person communities are lacking. The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/social-media-gives-support-to-lgbtq-youth-when-in-person-communities-are-lacking-166253
Cover Image: Artwork by Vivekananda/V, Artist & Media Practitioner, Mangalore.
