A MidWestern transgender woman trying to survive in the real life.

Tag: sexuality

The Filipinoization of Stonewall

Father Richard Mickley, founder of MCC Manila and a pioneering figure in LGBTQ+ Christian ministry and Pride activism in the Philippines. Photo courtesy of the LGBTQ Religious Archives Network.

In the summer of 1999, I conducted anthropological fieldwork in Metropolitan Manila for my Master’s thesis at Northern Illinois University. My research focused on how Filipino understandings of homosexuality and gender identity were interacting with emerging Western LGBTQ+ political identities during the era of globalization (Walter, 1999). Looking back more than two decades later, I now realize that I was witnessing a foundational transitional period in Philippine LGBTQ+ history.

My thesis, The Gender Behaviors of Filipino Male Homosexuals in Metropolitan Manila Within the Era of Cultural Globalization, examined the relationship between bakla identity, masculine homosexual identity, class, and globalization within Metro Manila (Walter, 1999). During this period, post-Stonewall LGBTQ+ political discourse from the United States was increasingly circulating through media, activism, universities, and transnational social networks. However, these ideas were not simply imported intact into the Philippines. They were reshaped through Filipino cultural understandings of gender, sexuality, religion, family, and class.

During my fieldwork, I stayed in a house in Santa Mesa associated with the Filipino LGBTQ+ newspaper Manila Out. The editor-in-chief of the paper was Father Richard Mickley, an American minister affiliated with the Metropolitan Community Church (MCC). At the time, I understood him primarily as an older American clergyman deeply involved in local LGBTQ+ ministry and activism. Only later did I fully appreciate his historical importance within Philippine queer history.

Richard Mickley was one of the pioneering figures of openly LGBTQ+-affirming Christian ministry in the Philippines. After relocating to the country in 1991, he founded MCC Manila and became involved with LGBTQ+ advocacy and community organizing (Mickley, n.d.). He later worked alongside organizations such as Pro-Gay Philippines and activists including Oscar Atadero in helping organize the 1994 Pride March in Manila, now recognized as the first Pride march in both the Philippines and Asia (UNDP & USAID, 2014).

One of the most striking aspects of LGBTQ+ activism in Manila during 1999 was how interconnected the movement remained. Activists, students, clergy, journalists, researchers, and organizers frequently occupied the same social and physical spaces. Political organizing occurred not only through formal institutions, but also through apartments, cafés, churches, universities, newspapers, and shared community houses.

Through organizations such as Pro-Gay, Babaylan at the University of the Philippines, Manila MCC, and Manila Out, I conducted participant observation and interviews among Filipino gay men in Metro Manila. During this period, I also marched in the 1999 Manila Pride Parade, experiencing firsthand the growing visibility and political energy of the Philippine LGBTQ+ movement at the turn of the millennium. At the time, the Pride movement in Manila was still relatively small compared to large Western Pride celebrations, but it carried an intense sense of community, activism, and historical importance.

These experiences led me to conceptualize what I described in my thesis as “The Filipinoization of the Legacy of Stonewall” (Walter, 1999). By this, I meant that Filipino LGBTQ+ communities were adapting global queer political frameworks into distinctly Filipino cultural contexts rather than simply reproducing Western identity categories.

This distinction is anthropologically important. Western LGBTQ+ political discourse has often emphasized sexuality through identity categories such as “gay,” “lesbian,” or “bisexual.” In contrast, Filipino concepts such as bakla historically encompassed more fluid intersections of gender expression, sexuality, social role, performance, and class (Garcia, 2008). The globalization of queer politics in the Philippines therefore produced hybrid identities shaped simultaneously by local traditions and transnational political discourse.

Religion also played a major role in these tensions. I attended Catholic Mass with Richard Mickley during my stay in Manila, and although he retained appreciation for Catholic ritual and spirituality, he was sharply critical of institutional Catholic teachings regarding sexuality and LGBTQ+ exclusion. His later writings reflected strong opposition to what he described as “sex-negative theology,” particularly regarding LGBTQ+ marginalization and the Catholic Church’s role during the AIDS crisis (Mickley, n.d.).

Looking back now, I recognize that I was present during a major historical transition in Southeast Asian LGBTQ+ history:

  • the expansion of organized Pride activism,
  • the growth of LGBTQ+ political organizations,
  • the emergence of queer Filipino media,
  • and the globalization of queer political identity at the end of the twentieth century.

At the time, however, these developments did not feel historic. They felt immediate and deeply human. People were organizing marches, publishing newspapers, building communities, debating identity, and creating spaces where LGBTQ+ Filipinos could exist openly within a rapidly changing society.

Richard Mickley passed away on February 14, 2023. Reflecting on my experiences now, I realize that I had the privilege not only to conduct research during a pivotal moment in Philippine LGBTQ+ history, but also to personally participate in that history while encountering one of the individuals who helped shape it.

Perhaps the most important lesson I took from that fieldwork is that global political movements are never simply exported unchanged into new societies. They become translated, localized, and transformed through existing cultural systems. Stonewall did not simply arrive in the Philippines unchanged. It became Filipino.

References

Garcia, J. N. C. (2008). Philippine gay culture: Binabae to bakla, silahis to MSM. University of the Philippines Press.

Mickley, R. (n.d.). Biography and ministry history. Metropolitan Community Church historical materials.

United Nations Development Programme [UNDP], & United States Agency for International Development [USAID]. (2014). Being LGBT in Asia: The Philippines country report.

Walter, K. (1999). The gender behaviors of Filipino male homosexuals in Metropolitan Manila within the era of cultural globalization (Master’s thesis, Northern Illinois University).

Sexuality and Live Jasmin

I’ve never been very secretive about my sexuality and sexual orientation. I use to be part of round table discussions about my sexuality and sexual orientation when I was part of Prism at Northern Illinois University a long time ago. This was all before I started to transition. Back then I called myself bisexual, I had feelings for both men and women. Then I just used the term homosexual since I had a strong preference for men. Then I used the phrase homofelezible, which seemed to fit me the best. I’m bisexual with more of an attraction towards men. After I began to realize that I am a woman and not a man, I started to call myself heteroflexible since I’m a woman attracted towards men. I usually just tell people I’m heterosexual because it is easier for people to understand over bisexual. It always seems like my heterosexual friends think I’m gay and my homosexual friends to think I’m straight. Of course since I transitioned it is the other way around. If I would be honest with myself and with others I would have to say I’m bisexual, with a two on the Kinsey scale.

I never wanted to be in a relationship before. I guess because I’ve always known that I am a woman and I didn’t want to have to reveal this to a partner. I think it is always best to be truth with your romantic partners. When I wanted to be sexually active with someone most of the time I went to Steamworks. After I transitioned I stopped going there and went to the TgirlNightCLUB. I have only been there a few times and not any longer thanks to COVID-19. I use to be one of the few, if not the only, transsexual there. The men use to swarm around me when I went there.

I have been going to Live Jasmin to chat with some of the ladies on there. I usually don’t ask for them to do anything sexual since non-contact sexuality doesn’t do anything to me. Even watching porn doesn’t do anything for me like it use to before I transitioned. I especially like to talk to Diana Dagorall and Alis Evanss. Like I said, I just mainly chat with them. It can be an expensive habit if you don’t watch yourself. It ate through my back pay that I got. Although paying off my trustee also took a lot of that money. The site isn’t too bad towards their members. About every fifteen hours or so you can spin a wheel and possibly get up to 100% more credits for the tier you are buying at. I never did land on 100% but I once did get a 90%. Most of the time it lands somewhere between 45% to 55%. I think it has a terrible pay out system for the ones providing the services. They only make 30% to 60% of what they are charging. The rest goes to Live Jasmin. I personally would like to see the models get a larger cut than what they are giving them. They do take a little cut from the member side as well, but it is nowhere near as bad as what they do to the models.

I like to go into VIP shows. This is where the model will do a little show for five or six minutes with a charge to each member (usually about two credits) to reach a goal to start the show. I like them because I just love to watch what the guys have to say during the show. They say the usual stuff you would think they would say. Even in the public chat room the guys can be kind of creepy. I usually like to tell the model that I’m a cisgender woman. I just want to be thought of a woman and not just a transgender. Yet, there have been a few that I have told that I’m a transgender woman. I never had any problems. I guess they’re not going to turn away a paying member.

I think Live Jasmin is worth a shot to look at. If you want to be a model I’m not so sure, since I don’t see that side of things. Models can see more information about their side of the camera here. Like I said, I don’t get anything sexual out of it since I’m more attracted to guys. They do have a gay guy side to the site, along with a section for transgender women. Being a webcam girl wouldn’t be the life for me. For one thing I have gender dysphoria and don’t like how my body looks. I would do it if the money was better and worth my time. There are many beautiful ladies on the site. Which only causes my gender dysphoria to be greater, but it is nice when they say I’m good looking. Most of the time I don’t believe them and are just saying that to be nice.

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