[dropcap]S[/dropcap]ince few can give a personal account of the experiences of Saint Lucia’s most marginalized group, I mulled over the ways this piece could be delivered, determined to get it done in time for International Day Against Homophobia (Thursday, May 17). For the past three weeks or so, as I considered who I might possibly interview, it dawned on me that I knew no-one on the island who was openly homosexual. Another embarrassing aspect of our society is that it quails unique self-expression, inflicting a fear of falling outside the rigid lines of what is, or is not, acceptable behaviour.
I recalled university friends who proudly showed me pictures of their same-sex partners; who openly expressed their attraction to significant others of the same gender on our nights out. I went to school in Taiwan, where things are different, yes, not in the sense that homophobia is not an issue but more so the Taiwanese temperament differs from that of Saint Lucians. For instance, my only exposure to public homophobia in Taiwan was when same-sex public displays of affection were met with a side-eye by a stranger. In Saint Lucia, however, in addition to side-eyes, I have also heard horribly discriminatory slurs, threats of violence and obscenities.
I finally managed to arrange an interview with local activist Kenita Placide. She spoke with an assertive understanding that things were not so great but it would be counter-productive to feel despair. On my way to meet her, I called Placide to as whether there was a sign outside her office. Was I crazy? She almost scoffed, as if to say, how could I ask such a silly question. A sign outside an office related to homosexuals in homophobic Saint Lucia? Without too much difficulty I arrived at the correct address and soon Kenita was telling me about the lives, the struggles, the silence of lambs too scared to complain openly about experiences both violent and discriminatory. We spoke about the things she had seen over her years of activism; progress made; the dangers and fears synonymous with “abnormal” sexual preferences.
Kenita sadly recalled the murder of a 17-year-old friend. He was stabbed 52 times at Trouya beach by someone he thought cared for him. There were other killings committed over the last ten years or so; one in 2005, another in 2006 and still another in 2007, all of which remain unresolved. “All of the murders also involved torture,” Kenita told me, in an almost matter-of-fact tone.
Small wonder local gays, for the most part, stay in the closet—in the process, creating an enabling environment for all kinds of horrors, including the unreported transmission of sexual diseases. “I do believe that the transmission of HIV between men who sleep with men is high, mainly because of societal attitudes. Consider how they meet, where they meet: always secretly and for periods too short to encourage relationships. We dare not court, go out together and just be ourselves. It’s like, we’re always meeting in secrecy.”
Kenita confessed, “A couple years ago I was more fearful; I mean, twice my life had been threatened. I had a knife at my throat. But one can reduce the risks by where one goes, what one does in public, and so on. My attitude now is like, if something’s gonna happen, then it’s gonna happen regardless of precautions.”
She paused, moved out of the dark into the light, so to speak. “I think a lot of the fear has been reduced. I think more and more people, while they look down on us, are nevertheless more than ever tolerant. You could say that’s an improvement from being hated for just being yourself.”
Placide has been advocating for human rights for several years now. She once served as the President of United & Strong and currently operates as the Secretariat of the Eastern Caribbean Alliance for Diversity and Equality—a position that allows her opportunities to liaise with other activists regionally and world-wide. She says that in relatively recent times there have been open conversations on the radio and on TV about sexual preferences and human rights conversations with members of government—all of which was unheard of, say, ten years ago. And that, she says, suggests progress.
“We’re looking at evolution of the world, and evolution of the world doesn’t mean that everyone has to live one way. This is why we have diversity: persons of different height, colour, sizes and that will also come with persons of different sexualities. We need to get to a point of understanding that not everything can be explained,” offered a not so exasperated, but more so insistent, Placide.
