A Life in the Margins: What It Is Like to Be a Transgender Person in India?
The amendment speaks of able-bodied individuals abusing the system, but in reality, there are no glazing benefits for transgender individuals. While these individuals have long been forced to live in the shadows, the amendment further marginalises them by questioning their self-declared identity. It sidelines a varied segment of the community that has no other forum to assert its identity. Putting the dignity, livelihood and very identity of our transgender citizens at stake, the amendment as passed does the opposite of its stated purpose. It makes lives harder for the most vulnerable, premised on a cynical notion that others are taking “benefits”.
Protesters rally in Bengaluru (Oct. 21, 2016), demanding justice and equality for the transgender community.
© 2016 Reuters
The Indian Parliament recently approved an amendment to the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019. The amendment has been subject to intense criticism and denounced by the LGBT community as an arbitrary attack on transgender identity. The amendment erodes the constitutional right to self-determination, replacing it with intrusive bureaucratic and medical hurdles. The 2019 Act flowed from the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling in NALSA v. Union of India, which viewed gender identity as a matter of individual autonomy. The amendment backtracks on this promise by demanding a certification by a medical board and legally restricting the transgender status to people with specific intersex conditions or people belonging to traditional communities (kinner, hijra, aravani, etc.). In effect, this results in the legal exclusion of tens of thousands of Indians who self-identify as men, women or non-binary. Critics vehemently oppose this amendment, foregrounding identity as a matter of choice, not contingent on a certificate.
The Ministry of Social Justice & Empowerment justified the amendment to protect individuals facing severe discrimination due to biological reasons. However, this premise is deeply misleading. Firstly, it dilutes the lived realities of transgender individuals on pure biological grounds based on a skewed understanding of gender and sex. Secondly, transgender individuals collectively are overwhelmingly vulnerable and marginalised, with only a few being able to live comfortably. In reality, this amendment’s true nature is to reinforce stigma by corroding the NALSA ruling and the 2019 Act that attempted to encapsulate it. It introduces a certification mandate from a medical board and a criminal penalty of life imprisonment for vaguely defined acts like ‘alluring’ someone to be transgender, effectively creating a state machinery to harass NGOs and communities that support trans people.
However, this raises an important question: Who exactly is taking up all the benefits? In practice, there exist no tangible benefits for officially being transgender in India, only bureaucratic hurdles. Access to education is abysmal, with 24% of trans persons reaching high school and a mere 2.5% finishing post-graduation, with 0.5% attaining a PhD – far below the national average. Participation in the formal workforce remains at a staggering low of 9%, with only 0.5% participation in government jobs. A 2018 National Human Rights Commission study found that over 96% of India’s trans job applicants were rejected, even if qualified. Excluded from such formal spaces, many are forced into informal spaces, with 18% as community entertainers, 12% in sex work and 9% engaged in begging.
These figures highlight the systematic exclusion of transgender persons, compounding their marginality and pushing them into unsafe work and poverty. This harassment begins at the earliest stages of life with multiple accounts of transgender minors being abused, disowned and abandoned by their natal families for simply being different. Others are subjected to routine bullying, mockery or even sexual abuse by peers or teachers with no avenue to report such violations out of fear, shame and the absence of support.
This mistreatment follows into adulthood. Employment opportunities extended to transgender individuals are either tokenistic or insensitive, further leaving them stranded. Rejection is thrust upon even qualified and eligible candidates. To instantiate this, Jane Kaushik was sacked from her teaching position simply for being transgender despite holding proper educational qualifications. Once her identity was discovered, she was terminated by two private schools. Ultimately she had to approach the Supreme Court, where the systematic discrimination she endured was acknowledged and compensation was awarded. This episode underscored a troubling reality that despite the NALSA verdict and the 2019 Act, the marginalisation of transgender individuals persisted. Transgender individuals continue to be treated as second-class citizens being denied the equality the law once promised.
This exclusion is not an isolated incident. But a shared reality across India. Many transgender individuals cannot open bank accounts, secure loans or even rent homes. Activist Akkai Padmashali recounted her own experience of being denied a home loan despite having all paperwork simply for being transgender. Similarly, countless others face humiliating struggles in finding housing due to entrenched societal prejudice. These experiences reveal that the transgender persons remain excluded from social and economic mainstreaming despite constitutional protections. This creates a stark contradiction: if the government acknowledges discrimination targeted against transgender individuals, then how can it bureaucratically restrict emancipation to only those facing discrimination due to biological reasons?
The amendment speaks of able-bodied individuals abusing the system, but in reality, there are no glazing benefits for transgender individuals. While these individuals have long been forced to live in the shadows, the amendment further marginalises them by questioning their self-declared identity. It sidelines a varied segment of the community that has no other forum to assert its identity. Putting the dignity, livelihood and very identity of our transgender citizens at stake, the amendment as passed does the opposite of its stated purpose. It makes lives harder for the most vulnerable, premised on a cynical notion that others are taking “benefits”.
The law must reflect the voices of the people it governs. However, what’s been taken away is the freedom of the very people to be themselves. Equality should not be conditional on a certificate or bureaucratic stamp, and the state must strive to dismantle discriminatory structures rather than erecting new ones. It’s time for the government to listen, restore self-identification, and honour India’s promise of equality for all.
Mandar Prakhar is an Associate Fellow at the Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy. Views are personal.