Reality; what a concept!

Saturday night, my wife and I attended, and sponsored auctioned tattoo and piercing prizes, at The Justice For Sisters gathering at Map KL in Solaris Dutamas. This was our way of trying to help out with what we feel is a very worthy cause, and let me tell you why.

That night, I looked around me, and I saw a room full of *people*. People who contribute to the community. People who hold jobs. People who live, love, laugh and cry. These people are not liars, nor manipulators, nor are they asking for anything unreasonable. And yet they are punished for their honesty.

They came to the event, facing retribution, facing public humiliation at the hands of a society that has passed judgment before ever taking the time and effort to get to know them. These people are showing the rest of us that there is an alternative to living a lie, and trying to be someone you're not in your heart.

Every day, we celebrate some person or persons for being true to themselves, for being honest, for doing the right thing. At the event, we had an opportunity to *be* one of those people we celebrate. To stand united and say *no* to those who would ask honest people to lie about who they are.

They weren't asking for a handout. They were asking for help in setting the stage for the future; *your* future, my future, our families' future. There come many times in life that we are forced to decide whether to do what we feel in our hearts is right, or cow down and do what society has *declared* is right; even though we know it to be wrong.

Among the acts, there was one I feel I should mention here. It was a lone gent who stood before the crowd and sang an a'capella version of Minnie Ripperton's "Loving You". Musically, I didn't find anything about his performance to be something I would want to repeat. Members of the audience laughed and jeered, while one man in the back row shouted "Wanker!" at the top of his lungs several times. Other members of the audience tried to hush them, and stood up for the man's right to perform in his own way.

At one point, someone in the audience started clapping in rhythm, and several people began to sing along with what was somewhere around the eighth repeat of the same two verses of the song. Interestingly enough, as they began to join in, his tone and inflection improved dramatically for a handful of notes. He came out of his shell and let his voice out to play, too. The encouragement had apparently triggered something within, and for that short series of notes, our ears were no longer assailed. Instead they were stimulated.

Upon realizing that, for the first time in his performance, he "had it", the crowd stopped singing along so they could hear what was now bordering on enjoyable, and his musical ability disappeared entirely once more. And again came the shouts of "Wanker!", and "We get the point!". Yet, he continued, until he was finished, heedless of the notable disapproval from the audience.

I had started to rise from my chair as the man behind me shouted "Wanker!", intensely offended by his behavior without understanding why the desire to introduce my foot to his ass was so strong. My wife, seated next to me, clasped my hand and whispered to me, "It could be part of the show", as she knew what I was about to do. I settled back into my seat, realizing she could be right.

It didn't really come clear to me until I awoke the following morning, and I realized that this performance was perhaps the most brilliant chess game I had ever seen played. If it indeed had been a game of chess, it would be written of in history books, celebrated by newspapers, and shared in coffeehouse chat for years to come.

This man, regardless of the fact that he could not sing, got up in front of the crowd and sang something that was meaningful to him, and though annoying to the spectators, what he was doing truly didn't harm anyone. And yet a group of people who were gathered in an effort to stop others from punishing and chastising people whose behavoir and choices weren't to the liking of "the majority", but hurt no one, were all induced into behaving just as the people they were uniting against. They passed judgment on him and acted "accordingly".

This man did not, however, give up. He continued to do what he had come to do, steadfastly refusing to leave the stage or stop singing until he was finished, even though doing so made him a "social outcast". In fact, he displayed the same determination and drive that was being celebrated and defended by the event itself.

Meanwhile, there was the fact that for that few seconds that the audience responded in such a way that a little support was shown, his voice suddenly blossomed into something that wasn't starworthy, but was deserving of some appreciation in it's own right. Something everyone noticed enough that they stopped sharing in the singing because they wanted to hear more of the performer, now that he "had it". And once the backing fell away, so did the newfound vocal quality. It was like watching a heart begin to beat firmly, overcoming uncertainty, only to have that rythm capsized by expectations from the audience that he could do it alone, and entertain us from then on without assistance.

I didn't catch the name of the performer, though I do recall in his introduction the MC, Edwin Sumun, aka "Shelah", stated something to the effect of "I don't know how to describe this next act...".

It was absolutely brilliant. It painted a personalized porttrait of what the "lady boys" faced every day of their lives. It brought it home in such a way that it allowed me to view it through their eyes. My definition of "Art" is anything, be it sculpted, painted, written, drawn, or otherwise protrayed in any manner, that causes a mental shift and takes you behind the perceptive faculties of the artist. This man, the momentary epitome of what the group was there to support, *is* my definition of art, and I thank him for stimulating my thinking in a way no other act that night did.

People's contributions saturday night will be used to help establish justice for them, and will eventually help each and every person in Malaysia be able to make the better choice, to live free and true to ourselves, whomever we may be.

The Right To Be

First things first: we just want to wish all and sundry a very Happy Chinese New Year!  May the year of the Rabbit bring everyone joy, good health and prosperity and some rockin' ink!

EK:

We've fielded a few requests before and just after the first two days of CNY to do a few tats, and some of them were made to mark a new phase in life, particularly after having come through a difficult one.

Speaking of having a difficult time, I'd like to highlight a sector of Malaysian society who often, if not always, never had it easy -- the marginalised and misunderstood transexuals of this country. It is particularly difficult for the men-to-women transgender folk colloquially called Mak Nyah.

US Skin Grafx is sponsoring tattoo prizes this Saturday, at a fundraiser held right around the corner of the shop, at MAP@KL at Solaris Dutamas, to help raise some money to help Mak Nyahs. Friends new and old, readers, whoever you are, are more than welcome and indeed, encouraged to come and lend a little help at this event, which will feature punk rockers, indie music, poetry readings and an auction featuring tattoo prizes (from us!!!) 

NOTE: More details on the event at the bottom of this blog post. Don't miss it!!!! COME TO THE EVENT LAH!!!

I found out about Justice for our Sisters festival via a Facebook post from my old friend, the activist, curator, writer and arts supporter, the dashing-and-articulate Mr. Pang Khee Teik of the Annexe Gallery in Central Market.

Back in the USA, we fairly regularly contributed vouchers and gift certs to help benefit Greystone Ranch, a wildlife rescue ranch and sanctuary, a local community club and various support groups. Randy mentioned that we should help out for this transgender fundraiser, and I asked him why.

"Because," my husband replied, "they are just trying to be themselves and express who they are without fear or favour. That's hand-in-hand with what tattoos are all about. Freedom of self-expression and the right to be who you are - straight, gay, bi, trans, whatever. People are people.  Isn't that why we do what we do as artists?" 

After emailing organisers Angela and Thilaga with my proposal, I took a couple of days to reflect upon this event. I came to realise that we're doing this not just to help out a good cause.  We all have friends who might, one day in the future, benefit in more ways than one from everyone's efforts today.

I was a teenager when I met my first Mak Nyah. Mum found a new hairdresser who had just quit a large saloon in Petaling Jaya. He worked out of a house, and did a really good job. More importantly (as my parents were saving up every spare penny to for their kids to study overseas), he was cheap. "His name's Charlie (not the real name).  He's slightly cha boh heng (effeminate) but don't let that deter you. He'll look at your face and figure and recommend what's best for you. I'm definitely happy with my hair," she said that to other relatives and friends.

A few of my aunts went to him, and so did I. Charlie greeted clients in flamboyant clothes -- harem pants, colourful tops. In time, the cut of his clothes became softer and he dared to use make-up. One time, he met one of my aunts in full make up, a fresh manicure, a bustier and silk skirt. She got her hair done, then relayed the experience gleefully to me. In turn, I relayed the incident (gleefully, too) to my mother.

To my surprise, mum chided me. "You don't need to say things like that," she said a bit roughly. Mum was a lot more understanding to what Charlie was going through. Then she added, "He's not had it easy.  As a little boy, his father beat him and scolded him because he would rather play with dolls than football with the rest of the boys. Today, he doesn't speak to anyone but his mother because everyone else in his family won't accept him. By the way, he hasn't seen his family in 8 years, even though he has been sending money back regularly. They accept the money, but they won't accept him."

Later, I was to discover that Charlie often confided in Mum about the mental agony he experienced in being born with physical attributes that he was not in sync with. How he was ostracised by schoolfriends, family members and suchlike when he decided to be himself (they thought he was sick/unnatural/possessed etc). The way he threw himself into every relationship he had because he thought he was so lucky to find a man who would

accept him -- or her --- for who he/she was. The way some of these men would return the favour by sponging off with free meals, nice gifts (clothes/watches/colognes etc) and borrowing money (which was never returned).

Charlie changed his gender and his name. Not legally (for laws still do not allow that). "But you can call me Cheryl" (again, not the real name). After a few years of being Cheryl, she took the big step: she worked like a madwoman to save money for the operation.  And when she had enough for it, she booked herself an appointment and a return plane ticket. When she returned home, she was an anatomically-correct, truly complete Cheryl.

Cheryl's story has a happy ending. She met a nice man, and married him in a lavish ceremony. By the way, her family reconciled with her. Hard to not give face to friends, in the face of a truly happy bride who worked and fought for what she wanted, and after many hardships, got what she wanted.

She now lives abroad, and we hope, happily. We wish her well. This is a true story.

Not everyone has a happy ending or has found it, however. In recent times, many have faced gross abuse and persecution from people around them. They've been steadily discriminated against for years. In my previous careers, I've met transgender individuals who go through this, and are forced to lead double lives or hide who they are for fear of being treated badly.

They face up to society's BS with a mixture of defensive scorn, bitterness and dignity. I think many of they have greater strength and perserverance than a great many of the rest of us who are born with the equipment we're perfectly happy with.

I just wanted to note that a number of my transgender friends mother-hen'ed me, to my initial surprise. "Lose some weight, la, you'll be so much prettier". "You already got a bust, you no need to take hormone injection, you make the best of the rest la". "Better put some lipstick on, you look tired. Last night never sleep is it???," were some of the memorable quips I received.

.I'm neither a bleeding heart nor an activist; but I strongly believe that a person has a right to be who they are, so long as they aren't directly harming anyone, what does it matter?

BACK TO THE EVENT: Justice For the Sisters festival is held from 2pm to 10pm at Solaris Dutamas's MAP@KL, block A5 (about where Kencana Petroleum is at), 1, Jalan Dutamas 1, 50480 Kuala Lumpur on SATURDAY, Feb 12, 2011.

Entry to the event is via donation at the door. From 2pm to 4pm, entry is RM10 to watch acts like Jeannys&The Melody, Chill please!, Corporate Youth, Kaptain, The Fays and Swampy Zombie Fever.

Following an hour-long break, the next run of shows  is from 5pm to 7pm, and is priced at RM15, featuring acts like Dung, Elektrikasyok (Elaine Foster), Furniture, Furious George + Operasi Sabo, Illya Sumanto, Krisis Halusinasi, Priya K and Think! Tadpole! Think!
Part of the show  (in the evening, it has been told) will be hosted by amazon goddess and local drag icon, SHELAH, who would surely be helping to rev up the crowd in her own inimitable way. SHELAH hosts the 8pm to 10pm show, featuring Dara Othman, Davina Goh, Ferns, Kathleen Choo, KG, Meichern, Nabila Nasir, PT's Angels, Reza Salleh, Sheena, Tanjong, Tshiung Han See.  Chi Too & the Buka Kolektif will also make an appearance at
the event.

While door prices have been specified, guests and visitors are also encouraged to donate more if they so wish in order to support the cause.  I believe (And will confirm in an update on Facebook and/or here) US Skin Grafx tattoo prizes will be auctioned at the 5pm to 7pm slots, and 8pm to 10pm slots.

Justice for Sisters is a human rights campaign, done at the grassroots level. It is organised by concerned members of the public to raise awareness about issues surrounding violence and persecution against the Mak Nyah community in Malaysia. The campaign also aims to raise funds amounting to RM50,000 to finance court cases that have recently been brought up against transgenders currently charged by the Syariah Court. This is the second

such Justice for Sisters event. The inaugural one was held successfully at the Annexe Gallery in Central Market a few weeks ago.

If you can't make it to the festival but would like to donate to the fund or help in other ways, please contact Angela [angela@kryss.org] or Thilaga [thilaga.sulathireh@gmail.com] or let us know via e-mail (us.skin.grafx@gmail.com) so we can help you liaise with them.

THANK YOU FOR READING AND WE HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!!!!