Ryou, Advertising, Tokyo, Japan

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong


Ryou, in his own words: “Gay only means this person has a different sexual preference. It doesn’t take away anything from who they are. I’m always looking for somebody who would end up being the same group to me not by skin color or nationality or religion, sexuality, but by lifestyle, sense of value, beliefs and stance and such.I always look pass everyone’s difference. Soon I forget they are gay, bisexual or lesbian because I don’t judge anyone.

Can’t think of (any challenges),but in the next 3 years I have to challenge myself to create my own media.

I haven’t yet (officially) told my mom and dad (I’m gay). When I applied to grad school at the Department of Cultural Anthropology five years ago, I wrote essays about the gay scene in Japan and my parents found it, and asked me about my sexuality. I pretended like it was just a subject and that me myself was straight, and they said okay. They have already noticed, and at the same time don’t want to accept it maybe.

(With regards to the gay scene in Tokyo) I’ve never felt so lame personally. There’re so-so many gay clubs, bars, events. Ni-chōme further distinguishes itself as Tokyo’s hub of gay subculture, housing the world’s highest concentration of gay bars. But that doesn’t mean the city itself is gay friendly.

In the social scene, the dominant trope in mainstream television and journalism is male homosexuality as gender crossing. In other words, male homosexuality is inextricably linked to a form of gender misalignment that results in feminine males. Homosexuality is still a taboo in Japan. Many dialogues are still taking place among queers. LGBT politics in Japan isn’t that simple, but some people are trying to change it.

(this year,Tiga ishikawa<石川大我> aimed to Become japan’s first openly gay parliament member,but he couldn’t.)

(Advice I’d give my younger self) Never try to be somebody who you are really not.”

André, Administrative Assistant, Lima, Peru

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

André, in his own words:“Pies, ¿para qué los quiero si tengo alas para volar?” – Frida Kahlo.

“No me gusta nombrarme como gay, prefiero ser marica, maricón, cabro o rosquete, porque esos términos me colocan en una posición marginal, no blanca, no masculina, sin dinero e irrespetuosa con la sociedad, y desde ahí empiezo a construir mi discurso y activismo.

Para mi fue bastante fácil salir del closet, lo hice a los 14 años cuando mi mamá me preguntó “¿Hay algo que me quieras contar?” y respondí “Sí, me gustan los hombres”. En ese momento me sentí libre y podría decir que empecé a ser completamente yo. Luego entendí que todo esto sucedió después de la muerte de mi padre, porque él era muy machista y homofóbico, esas eran unas de las razones por las que yo seguía en el closet.

Tengo desafíos todos los días al transitar por las calles de Lima, esperando no ser insultado o violentado por vestirme y comportarme como se me antoja, pero le agradezco a las maricas que lucharon para que yo pueda transitar, ahora nos toca a nosotras seguir construyendo un país donde se respeten nuestras vidas y garanticen nuestros derechos.”

In English:

“Feet, why do I want them when I have wings to fly?” – Frida Kahlo

“I hate to identify myself as gay, I’d rather be a fag, fagot, queer, goat, because those terms placed me in a marginal position, not white, not male, penniless and disrespectful to society, and from there I began to build my discourse and activism.

For me it was quite easy coming out, I did it at age 14 when my mom asked me “Is there anything you want to tell me?” And I said “Yes, I like men.” At that moment I felt free and I could say that I became full. Then I realized that all this happened after the death of my father, because he was very macho and homophobic, those were some of the reasons why I was still in the closet.

I’m challenged every day to walk the streets of Lima, hoping not to be insulted or violated by dressing and acting in the way that I want, but I thank the fags who fought for me to move, now it is up to us to continue building a country where our lives are respected and our rights ensured.”

Bruce and Costas, Fernvale, Australia

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong, Bruce (left) and Costas (right)

photo by Kevin Truong, Bruce (left) and Costas (right)

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong, Bruce (left) and Costas (right)

photo by Kevin Truong, Bruce (left) and Costas (right)

Bruce, in his own words: “(In Brisbane) it’s actually OK (to be gay). When I was growing up it was very different. That was back in the eighties, and then there were laws about being gay. You couldn’t be served alcohol in pubs, and those sorts of things, so it was a very different sort of situation to what it is now. It’s a lot more open and accepting and things like that. Everyone here knows we’re gay and it’s no issue. We even have people from the local Evangelical society come and visit us and they know about us and it has never been an issue. It’s just a sign of the times, it’s all changing.

I grew up near here, it was all very closeted then too. You certainly didn’t come out easily. I think the only place in Australia where you could have comfortably come out and be open about your sexuality was maybe Sydney or Melbourne. Really even in Brisbane, you had cliques and circles that you mixed with and you were completely out in that group, but generally it wasn’t something that was embraced openly. The government didn’t do it, the media didn’t do it. I think the big thing that changed everything was the AIDS epidemic, and that just put a real focus on gay people and the struggles–besides HIV and everything else–that they go through.

When (the epidemic) first started, I was about fourteen or fifteen. I lost a couple of people that I knew, but not a lot. I wasn’t really involved into the scene at that stage and it didn’t really hit (Australia) as much as it did in the States or the UK. Certainly there was a lot of people who didn’t survive the AIDS epidemic in Melbourne or Sydney. But growing up here in Brisbane, it wasn’t as obvious. And the government, to their credit, did a really good job identifying that there was an issue and telling people what we needed to do to try and avoid it.

(Costas and I) have been together fifteen years now. We met on a chat line on a Wednesday, and then (he) already had a ticket to come to Brighton where we were living in the UK and we caught up on a Sunday, and then (he) moved in two weeks later. So we’ve been together ever since.

I think the option of marriage is important. (In Australia, we) have civil registration in a couple states but it doesn’t have any legal withholding or anything like. I think whether you call it marriage or civil union, I think the ability to have that is important for gay people, because otherwise it just makes you feel like you’re not the same as other couples. And I’m not suggesting that marriage is the end all be all, I don’t think you have to be married, but I think you should have the option if you want to.”