"Ayan believes the ban on LGBTQI+ people is intended to 'remove people from the information field, to make them completely invisible.' And you can do whatever you want to the invisible."
This article was written by Arina Ruble and originally published in Russian by Novaya Vkladka on August 7, 2024. An edited version, translated by Anastasia Pestova, was published on globalvoices.org with permission on August 22, 2024.
How has life changed for queer people across different regions of Russia after the ban on the LGBTQ+ “movement?” What do they fear and dream about?
All names have been changed for safety reasons.
Music in the city of Tomsk
Anya and Nastya are musicians who perform in bars and clubs in Tomsk. They met five years ago. Back then, Anya was curious about the LGBTQ+ community: “I was always trying to understand what was wrong with them, what was broken.” Anya fell in love with Nastya about a year after Russia’s full scale invasion of Ukraine began but revealed her feelings only in the fall of 2023: “We managed to date and even go out together before the law [about the LGBTQ+ community being an extremist organization] was passed.” Anya’s mother accepted their relationship, but Nastya’s parents know nothing about Anya.
Anya and Nastya do not feel safe on the streets of the city and only hug each other at home when Anya’s son is not watching.
“We keep our feelings to ourselves and have gotten used to it,” Nastya says matter-of-factly. “I’m very afraid of persecution and of going to prison. I want freedom more than anything. And I also wish Anya’s child knew about us.” Anya plans to tell her son when he turns 10. She believes he will be mature enough by then.
Like Nastya, Anya does not want to leave. In Tomsk, her relatives help her with her child, but most importantly, she enjoys her work: “I’m finally doing in music what I always wanted to do. I’m not ready to give that up.”
‘You can do whatever you want to the invisible’
Ayan, 34, is a doctor like his parents. They live in a district center and, according to him, are supportive and liberal, especially his mother. At 14, Ayan realized he liked boys. However, in Buryatia, Ayan “had no options at all” to meet someone like himself. He could only find someone online.
Ayan lives and works in Moscow right now. His colleagues and neighbours are unaware that he is gay. This is one of the benefits of living in a big city, he believes: “People get tired of each other and don’t really care.”
Ayan believes the ban on LGBTQ+ people is intended to “remove people from the information field, to make them completely invisible.” And you can do whatever you want to the invisible.
According to Ayan, after November 2023, free art disappeared from his world. He loves movies and series, but you cannot find any about the lives of queer people anymore. Everything, even indirectly related to LGBTQ+ themes, has vanished from the cultural agenda.
Ayan has also realized that he now has no future. He has always wanted a child. Ayan believes that “even if Putin dies tomorrow” and the war ends, attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community will not change.
‘It’s becoming scary here’
Mark is 21 years old and a trans man. He lives in the Novosibirsk region with his grandparents, husband, and dog. He works at a local tobacco shop, selling vapes: “They banned me; soon, they’ll ban my job, too. It’s an incredible coincidence.”
Mark says he has always identified as a man, but his mother chose to ignore the situation.
A month before the LGBTQ+ community was labeled an extremist organization, Mark received a new passport with his new name. As he puts it, “I managed to catch the last train.”
Before this, he and his future husband, 19 years old and also named Mark, received medical assessments that, until November 30, 2023, allowed them to register for gender reassignment surgery and hormone therapy. Now, such assessments are useless “because of the law, you can’t get hormone therapy or have surgeries.” Considering everything, the 19-year-old Mark decided not to change his passport and officially remained a woman so the couple could register their relationship.
By city standards, Mark doesn’t look extravagant; he resembles Daniel Radcliffe casting Harry Potter more than a flamboyant character. When a journalist asks if the locals have become more aggressive after the law was passed, Mark replies that people in the settlement have always been biased against queer individuals.
Younger Mark speaks cautiously and sadly about how the people’s hostility affects him deeply. He works with the Vyhod Group, which provides legal and psychological support to LGBTQ+ people.
‘I fear we’ll be crushed by the wheels of history’
Heinrich and Tel are both trans men. They have been together for five years and hope to marry in the future. Both still have their female names on their passports.
Heinrich and Tel have both experienced sexual violence from family members and have faced beatings and bullying. Heinrich now works as a logistics specialist, and Tel is a doctor. Their colleagues are unaware that they are trans men, and neither has contact with their parents.
Ten years ago, Heinrich believed that same-sex marriage would eventually be possible in Russia. There were large LGBTQ+ communities and queer-friendly establishments in Moscow, and everything seemed more or less fine.
Tel feels differently — since he realized and accepted himself, “he hasn’t lived a single day in peace.”
Despite their fears, exhaustion, and skepticism, both volunteer to help queers with everyday issues and health problems, provide shelter and registration, and offer legal consultations. “Sitting around and waiting for the weather to change isn’t for us. I can’t stand inaction. If you do nothing, nothing will change,” says Heinrich.
“I fear we’ll be crushed by the wheels of history — me, my husband, and our friends,” says Tel.
‘There are many of us, and we are strong’
Violetta is a transgender woman. She began her transition shortly after November 30, 2023. Without a medical certificate, surgery, or a change of passport, Violetta moved away from her parents. They are unaware of her transition.
Currently, Violetta is working with her colleagues on a media project to help LGBTQ+ individuals safeguard their information security.
After Violetta came out, many friends stopped talking to her “within a week.” The community of people like her provided much-needed support. “There are many of us, and we are strong,” Violetta says, “despite attempts to suppress us.”
Before November 30, 2023, Violetta wasn’t interested in activism. The new law led her to stand by her community and assist those who remained in Russia. She now conducts security audits for organizations associated with vulnerable minorities.
Violetta adds, “The government can dictate whatever it wants. Tomorrow they might ban sandals, saying sandals are a sign of the Extremist Organization of Sandal Wearers, for example. And who will oppose them? No one.”
The struggle for recognition and understanding exacerbates tensions in societies where hatred and prejudice dominate over tolerance. Not to mention situations where the primary enemy is the state. Almost all the people featured in this article are considering leaving the country. As Tel puts it, “Because I’m afraid of living my whole life not being free.”
