New Beginnings: Living Life as a Transgender Filipina

Adapted from remarks by Tamika Gonzales, Asian & Pacific Islander Wellness Center’s Transgender Program Supervisor, before the Panel “Gender-Bending Stories: Transgender A&PIs, the Invisibility Minority” at the Asian American Journalists Association Conference on July 25, 2001 in San Francisco.

I remember being in the fifth grade. I felt very strongly that there was something different about me - different from the rest of the boys. I had a lot in common with the girls that I played with. Being the youngest of five, I was always afraid to show my real feelings about myself. I was tiny, skinny, and soft-spoken. There was no way I could both assert and defend myself all at the same time. I wished I were big, so when the boys made fun of me -- when I walked with my hips swaying from side to side, or when I flipped my military style haircut -- I could just knock them down.

Lacking the physical strength, I turned to academics to compensate. And I did well. I graduated top of the class in high school and suma cum laude in college. I pleased a lot of people. I earned the respect of my family and the people around me. But I could not express myself to the fullest. I went to medical school and, during my first year, I decided I wanted to do something for myself -- not to please others but because it was something I needed to do for myself. I knew for a fact that they wouldn’t be pleased with what I wanted to do. So I left the Philippines and arrived in America in 1992. That was the hardest point of my life. I had to start from scratch. I set aside the search for myself and basic necessities became priorities. I looked for jobs, put a roof on top of my head, food on the table, clothes on my body. All those years in school paid off because I was able to use the skills that I learned… and lots of courage. It was difficult, and I was alone.

I started to make friends, good friends. We shared the same interests, related to the same feelings, and understood each other. I put on women’s clothes at night and went out with friends who did the same. I realized that the fun never ended as long as I had my dress on, makeup on my face and a wig on my head. The gloom began when I started taking everything off and went back to “reality”. It was like “Cinderella at the stroke of midnight”. So I said to myself, “wait a minute, I don’t need to take all these off, I can live with these and I’m happy!”

In 1995, I took my first hormone shot. And changes started to happen. Some are nice and some are unpleasant. Overall, amazing! It was slow, but steady. I started to get attention, lots of attention. And I loved it.

Three years after I came to the United States, I was living a new life. I met by boyfriend. The feminizing effects of the hormones were evident but my official documents lagged far behind. With help from Asian & Pacific Islander Wellness Center (A&PIWC), I changed my name and gender on my driver’s license. Although I live here now, I am only able to renew my employment authorization from the INS for one year. I can’t apply for permanent residency. If I was straight, I would have married a long time ago - I would have been a citizen by now. The system doesn’t recognize that, deep inside, I’m a straight woman, who just happens to be transgender, with a partner who has proposed marriage.

A few weeks ago, my father passed away in the Philippines. Because of my immigration status, I couldn’t be there; even on the day they lowered him into the ground. If I did, I would have forfeited all that I came here for - the years, the investment and, most of all, my life. I love my Dad, I just wish he could have seen how much his little “bunso” has bloomed, and been really proud of me no matter what.

I worked for a local hospital for six years where I had my fair share of discrimination during by transition from male to female (MTF). I was denied an Employer Petition to INS. I began volunteering with Asian AIDS Project (which later became A&PIWC). That was the break I needed. Getting involved with my community is where I wanna be. I may not have become a Doctor but I’m sharing the knowledge I learned from medical school about HIV/AIDS with my community.

Currently, I’m the Transgender (TG) Program Supervisor for A&PIWC. My work gives me a sense of fulfillment and provides me a way to give back to my community. Today, young transgender people have more support. When I was transitioning, black market hormones were widely used because only a few medical providers would prescribe hormones and the cost was high. Now, the TG program at A&PIWC helps the girls gain access to free or low-cost hormones through city clinics where medical professionals monitor and guide them throughout their regimen. I formed Club Euphoria, a support group for MTF transgenders that meets every second and fourth Wednesday, provides a safe and nurturing environment for the girls to get together, learn about different topics like HIV, discuss issues that affect their lives, and empower one another and their community. A recent accomplishment is the development of a new Transgender brochure which will come in handy for girls looking for information and resources that provide specific TG services throughout the city (available on-line at www.apiwellness.org).

In July, A&PIWC convened the first national A&PI Transgender HIV Prevention Meeting. Organizations from as far away as New York, Hawai’i, and Los Angeles networked, brainstormed ideas, and put into action projects aimed at improving the quality of life for TG people across the nation. For example, one goal is to lobby the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to include Transgender as a category on demographic intake forms so that HIV rates can be better tracked.

I believe that Transgendered people should be able to enjoy all the rights and privileges that mainstream society enjoys with dignity and respect. We should be able to marry and receive all the legal rights of a married couple, including being able to petition for the partner. We should be able to seek employment without fear of discrimination or harassment. We should have access to health care providers who are sensitive to their needs. We should be able to function in our daily lives or walk down the streets without being ridiculed or looked at as a form of entertainment. Equality is what we ask for.


This article first appeared in the September 20, 2001 issue of Asian Week.



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