A Celebration of Courage: Lohana Berkin's Felipa Award acceptance speech

Dear friends,

I am Lohana Berkins, a travesti from Argentina.

That was not the name given to me at birth. I was born in a large family, in the countryside of Salta, in the NorthWest of Argentina, where men are very macho and women are born to endure and keep silent. I never felt myself as a man, I never wanted to be a macho, neither did I want to endure and keep silent.

I was 13 years old when my family kicked me out because they could not stand the shame that the effeminate boy I was brought upon them. I hitchhiked to the state capital and lived in the streets until found a community of travestis who took me in. They taught me all I needed to know in order to survive that is, prostitution and running away from the cops.

I lived the same life that thousand of travestis are living today in Mexico, Nicaragua, Peru or Argentina. I modified my body in order to look more attractive to clients and also to fit what society told me a feminine woman was. As no public hospital will treat me, I got my hormones and my silicones in the street, from other trans people and injected them myself. I was lucky, but several of my friends have died while trying to make themselves look like those gorgeous stars on magazines’ covers.

The number of days I have spent in jail during my life, if added, will make about 9 years in total. I never committed any crime, other than being travesti. During dictatorship times in my country, sometimes I would spend two months locked in. Anti-social elements like us travestis were beaten, raped and insulted by policemen while in detention. When democracy came in 1984, things improved for everyone in the country, except for us. Until 1997, Police Edicts allowed Buenos Aires police to arrest any person they wanted and keep her or him locked for up to 30 days without any offense or crime being charged and without a judge’s intervention. Every week I spent from 4 to 5 days in jail. I tried to attend school back then, but had to drop out. Under such a regime, having a life of one’s own was impossible.

But I fought back. I started to organize inside the jails themselves, with other trans people and with female prostitutes. We demanded better treatment, food, blankets, and end to sexual harassment. The few days we spent outside, were used to find lawyers who would defend us; LGB, feminist and human rights activists who would physically try to stop the police from arresting us or, when everything else failed, be willing to be arrested with us and act as witness to any abuse that would take place against us.

Then one day in 1997, the police edits were repealed. We travestis took to the streets and we danced and we laughed. Many of us rode the subway for the first time in our lives – we did not dare to use public transportation before, in a vain attempt to avoid being spotted by policemen and arrested.

I was there, dancing and shouting and crying. And then I finally managed to attend night school, and a new struggle started. I fought for the school to use the name I have chosen for myself, and to treat me as the unique person I am. And I opened the way for the dozens of young and old travestis who are now enrolled in schools in Argentina. Now I am going to college.

I have worked tirelessly to make LGB, feminist, union, human rights and social justice activists understand that trans people are humans and trans rights are human rights. Thanks to that work, I was offered the possibility to work for a Buenos Aires city councilor, as his secretary. And thus I became the first travesti who did not have to resort to prostitution in order to survive in Buenos Aires.

I have gone back to my family and built with them a relationship that is based on love and respect. At this moment in my life, I can say that I am very proud of being Lohana, and if I were to be born again, I would like to be travesti again, and an activist again.

I am deeply moved by this award. But I must say that the struggle you are rewarding was not done by me alone. It was the struggle of many and I would like to bring them all with me here tonight.

I would like to say that, through me, you are honoring my whole travesti community in Argentina tonight.

And the community of women in prostitution with whom I took my first steps as an organizer, in the dark jails of my country, resisting police brutality.

And the lesbian and straight feminist communities who made us travestis question our identity and our bodies.

And the gay men’s and mainstream human rights communities who also understood our struggle and opened their doors for us.

Tonight I want to remember my friends Valeria Gauna and Pocha Escobar, who were among the 110 travestis murdered in Argentina in the last 10 years. They will always live inside my heart.

And of course I want to thank the IGLHRC because it has always given me the opportunity to be a spokesperson for thousands who lived in social, political, economic and cultural invisibility. IGLHRC never doubted to support my work and it made it possible for my voice to go beyond my country’s borders. Please allow me to name some of those from ILGHRC who were there for me: Sydney Levy, Scott Long and Mirka Negroni. Thank you all so much!!

My dear friends, the struggle is not over yet. We have made small progress in many places, but we are still suffering inequalities, oppression and subordination. And they move us to keep working to build a better world. On the way, we will find as many obstacles as moments of joy. But, like an Argentinean singer used to say: Who says that everything is lost? I will keep sharing my heart. Thank you!!!!!