The Globe and Mail

Richard Bruce, 27— Peter Power/The Globe and Mail

Richard Bruce, 27, works as an administrative assistant and was born in Jamaica. He came to Canada two years ago as a refugee because of almost-certain death if outted as a gay man at home.

Were you openly gay in Jamaica?

Not out in public, but to my family and my friends. It was difficult. That’s the main reason why I came here, because this was one of the only places that I knew that I could get to where I could live openly and not be afraid.

What was the fear?

Fear that I might die, wake up one day and my house [would be] on fire, or somebody at work finding out that I’m gay and telling everyone. It was just a huge fear that if someone found out, then that’s the end of it. You either die or you leave. It’s just how it works. If you talk to anybody that’s Jamaican that’s exactly what they’ll tell you. I didn’t like going out anywhere because there was always a stigma attached to if two men went to the movies together or if two guys went to have dinner together. There was always some kind of stigma.

How have things changed for you since moving here?

I’ve been able to live openly as a gay man. If somebody asks me if I’m gay, I can say, “yes, I am gay.” I don’t have to pretend that I’m not. It’s just a whole different feeling than when I was living in Jamaica [where] you have to be looking over your shoulder all the time – you can’t tell anyone that you’re gay. But here, it’s like the total opposite.

Click here for audio of Misset, Richard, Alred, Hurly, Mezart and Tjinomasa describing their experiences in Toronto's LGBT community.

Alred Atwongyeire, 49— Peter Power/The Globe and Mail

Alred Atwongyeire, 49, lived in uncertainty as a gay man for most of his life. He was arrested for being gay in his native Uganda and lived in hiding for five months before coming to Canada as a refugee. He’s HIV-positive and has faced health problems, but now works as a volunteer at the Black Coalition for AIDS Prevention and is excited to celebrate Pride in good health.

What was it like being a gay man in Uganda?

Gay men in Uganda hide a lot. Because when it [becomes] known you are a gay man, usually you can be stoned to death. So I was doing it undercover. Pretending to have a girlfriend. I even once had a wife. Other people who don’t know that it is in someone’s nature to be gay, they [see] it as a serious crime, so they do mob justice against someone who is known to be gay.

Were you ever in danger?

Yeah, because at the time I left, I had bribed the policemen and they had set me free, but I had already been in custody. I was arrested. That’s when people got to know about it.

How long were you in jail?

Three days. Of course it wasn’t easy. Because I was sick, the policeman felt I should get out of the jail and go and take medication. I think that’s what mostly saved me, because the policeman felt it was bad to imprison someone without his medication.

How has living as a gay man changed since you moved to Canada?

Here, I found out, is [a place] of freedom. So I’m comfortable here. … people have liberty to do anything [related to] sexual orientation.

What’s the best part?

Freedom, of course. I’m not working, but this is a government that is looking after me. I get [assistance]. I don’t think there is any other country like Canada. In fact, to me, I take Canada as heaven. I have never been to heaven, but we were brought up being told, ‘in heaven there is peace,’ so I take it like heaven.

Are you excited to celebrate Pride?

I cannot miss it.

Click here for audio of Misset, Richard, Alred, Hurly, Mezart and Tjinomasa describing their experiences in Toronto's LGBT community.

Hurly Meraveles, 27— Peter Power/The Globe and Mail

Hurly Meraveles, 27, hitchhiked from Toronto to Vancouver and back last year to bring attention to issues of racism and homophobia in Canada. This year, he is headed east on the same mission, and will blog about the experience on his website, thumbsupcanada.com. He was born in the Philippines and moved to Canada seven years ago.

How have your experiences as a gay person changed since you’ve moved here?

Here you can be a gay man without having to cross-dress, which is very typical of the Philippine understanding of being gay. But also here I feel like there’s a lot of boxing. People put you in boxes. In the Philippines people would engage in gay activities and gay sex, but do not consider themselves gay, and that’s fine. Here, there is a lot of, if you have sex with another guy, even if you don’t want to identify as gay, or if you don’t identify as gay, then people say: “no, you are actually gay.”

What does celebrating Pride mean to you?

I think Pride is being who you are, it’s a feeling, and being able to express who you are regardless of your sexuality or sexual orientation. It’s also a reminder of the work that has to be done. I work with youth in schools and there’s a lot of homophobia going on without them even knowing that their words, for example, have a homophobic history. Also, when I was travelling across Canada doing anti-racism and anti-homophobia workshops and awareness, I definitely encountered a lot of people who are very homophobic.

What changes have you seen in the LGBT community in both the Philippines and in Canada in the past few years?

I think the LGBT community is growing more and more visible, and that’s really good, because I think one of the reasons why people are homophobic is also because of the invisibility of the gay community.

What is it like being a visible minority and an LGBT person?

I’m always passionate and advocating for the intersectionality of race and sexuality. A lot of people only see one or the other, a lot of people see only race and not sexuality, or sexuality and not race, when all these identities and factors intersect. For myself, I am a gay immigrant, or a gay person of colour, or whatever you call it. It’s hard, because you experience multiple discrimination and multiple oppression.

Click here for audio of Misset, Richard, Alred, Hurly, Mezart and Tjinomasa describing their experiences in Toronto's LGBT community.

Mezart Daulet, 25— Peter Power/The Globe and Mail

Mezart Daulet, 25, works for the Asian Community AIDS Services as a youth program co-ordinator and MSM outreach worker. He was born in China, but grew up in Japan, where he advocated for the rights of LGBT persons; he continues to do so here in Canada.

Where are you from originally?

I was born in China, but I’m not typical Han Chinese. I’m the Muslim minority in China, people call us Uigur or Chinese Muslim. I moved to Japan when I was 9.

Did you have any experiences in Japan related to your sexuality?

I think mostly it was my family, because we’re Muslim. My dad once told me that if his son were gay he’d kill that son. I was 12 or 11.

What does celebrating Pride mean to you?

I kind of lost meaning when I came to Toronto about Pride because, when I was in Japan, it was more advocating, and it’s small, and really we have to get together and we have to fight. That was my kind of mentality. But when I came to Toronto, it was more like parties, and I didn’t see much community activism, or maybe it’s over … but I don’t really think so. Because you still get people yelling at you from their car or protesters coming to say “no gays.”

Do you think it’s still important to celebrate Pride?

Yes. Not only celebrate, but fight.

What does it mean to you to be a gay person who is also a new Canadian?

I thought when I came here, it would be a gay utopia. Then I came and I saw things didn’t change much. I still face homophobia and now I face more racism in the gay community and there are so many issues still. So it’s interesting how I’m still in a similar position to when I was in Japan, even though I can be more open as a gay. I still face lots of challenges. So it’s still like finding my safe place, that’s the journey that I haven’t finished yet.

Click here for audio of Misset, Richard, Alred, Hurly, Mezart and Tjinomasa describing their experiences in Toronto's LGBT community.

Tjinomasa Kandundu, 24— Peter Power/The Globe and Mail

Tjinomasa Kandundu, 24, was born in Namibia and came to Canada in November, 2010. She is celebrating her first Pride this year.

What made you come to Canada?

I was running away from my family. They used to harass me emotionally and sexually. My mom and aunt used to tell my cousin to rape me because they believed that being homosexual can be cured by sleeping with a man.

What were the events that led up to you coming to Canada?

Being sexually harassed and being beaten up by my sister and my cousin. These things would have caused me to die because I was so depressed I started [hurting] myself. And I know for sure, if I would have stayed, my cousin would have raped me and probably killed me.

How have things changed for you since moving here?

I’m happier. It’s like, wow, I’m in a dream, seeing other homosexual people around, holding hands, kissing in streets. It’s something that is new to me and I feel like, really, this is where I belong.

What does celebrating Pride mean to you?

I’m not sure what it’s all about, but I know it’s celebrating the freedom of being homosexual. So I’m just looking forward to see what is happening there and excited to meet new people of my same sexual status.

Why do you think it’s important to celebrate Pride?

Personally, I think it’s important to celebrate my freedom of being who I am and the fact that I’m being accepted here. It shows people out there who might be homophobic that we are normal people just like them.

Click here for audio of Misset, Richard, Alred, Hurly, Mezart and Tjinomasa describing their experiences in Toronto's LGBT community.