What is it like to be a queer person and a person of color in Russia?

People have many identities. For example, ethnic identity (I am Sakha, I am Buryat:ka), gender identity (I am a woman, I am a man, I am a non-binary person), associated with sexual preferences (I am heterosexual:na, I am queer). When we begin to notice how many different identities and experiences people have, we take the first step toward understanding how Russia's system of oppression and invisibility works.

In a world where more and more countries are sliding towards fascism, it is rare for anyone to think about only one part of their identity – queer, gender or ethnic. It is important to talk about this and not hush up the topic.

The stories of resistance of colonized groups and the queer community in Russia overlap in some places and, unfortunately, ignore each other in others. For me, and for many queer people of color, decoloniality and queer resistance go together because they question existing unjust orders of gender and ethnicity. But I feel that sometimes there is a blindness to each other in these two groups. And often gender anxiety for queer people of color is conflated with ethnic anxiety. For example, as a gay man from Tuva, I feel hostility from other people because I am both Tuvan and gay.

The Russian state has always seen the queer community and indigenous organizations as a danger. Among the latest measures, we can recall the law on “LGBT propaganda” and the inclusion of indigenous and regional organizations on the list of extremists. And in these conditions, we are not talking about a struggle for the title of “who is oppressed more,” but the question of existence as a non-white queer person arises, where both of these qualities - queerness and ethnicity - are the goal of suppression by the fascist regime. Moreover, this is the intersection point of the struggle for the most basic human rights, for the right to be oneself.

To show how identities can influence the most basic processes, we decided to talk to queer people from national republics. We hope that these conversations will open up space for reflection and show the multiple systems of oppression in Russia. In this material we share stories about what it is like to be a non-white queer person in Russia. After all, the personal is always political, and this is especially true for queer people from indigenous communities.

PS I would like to personally thank everyone who was able to participate in this project. Our stories and experiences are important, but being heard is even more important.

Tell us a little about yourself. When did you realize that you are a queer person?

M.:

I am Sakha, currently studying at the university and at the same time working in Berlin, where I try to participate in activist events. From adolescence, or rather from puberty, I understood that I was attracted to guys. Although, if the question is about recognizing oneself as a queer person (queer and gay are different concepts, and I consider myself queer), then I accepted this already in Berlin, that is, as an adult.

Altan:

My name is Altan, I am from Buryatia, I am 24 years old. I am a non-binary person, my pronouns are they/them. I am a homoromantic bisexual, sometimes I call myself homoflexible* - in general, a typical queer, so to speak. I am an interdisciplinary artist and writer involved in decolonial queer activism while working in marketing.

I realized my queerness at the age of 13, when I thought that the terms “asexual”** and “agender”*** described my experience well. Later, at about 15, this transformed into a lesbian identity. I still use the label “lesbian” because it’s easier to talk about my experience: I’ve only had relationships with girls, and that’s how I imagine my relationships in the future. At the same time, a part of bisexuality remains in me, especially during periods when mental disorders worsen...

*from flexible - flexible

**a person who is not sexually attracted to any gender

***a person who does not identify himself with any gender

Dashi:

I am a Buryat, studying in a big city in another region in the humanities. I always knew that I was queer, from childhood, only the words changed. I grew up with a feeling that I was right, I quickly learned on the Internet that this was normal, and I considered misunderstandings among those around me to be relics of the Soviet past.

Mergen:

At the moment I am not on the territory of Russia, not on the territory of my small Motherland. Now I have settled in a foreign country that protects me. I'm starting my life from scratch. I realized that I have been a queer person since childhood. Awareness can come gradually as you grow older. The LGBT community is very diverse, there are non-binary people, transgender people. I consider myself a gay man.

Agvan:

Sayn, my name is Agvan, I study medicine in Germany, teach German and help representatives of indigenous peoples when moving to Germany. I realized that I was a queer person at the age of 11-12. I think I was lucky enough that I didn't go through a stage of denial or shame about my sexuality. When I moved to a new school, I immediately told everyone that I was bisexual.

Kundul:

I will introduce myself as Kundul, I am 26 years old. I work in the IT field. Since 2020 I have been living in exile in Germany.

Ever since I was a child, I knew that I was attracted to guys. I grew up in the 2000s, and we were one of the first in the village to have satellite TV. My mother and I watched MTV together, and they showed the following programs: Next, Search and Date. In these shows, girls were looking for guys, guys were looking for guys, girls were looking for girls, in general, in any combination. So I grew up with the understanding that it was normal and that I could love anyone.

Yana:

I'm 31, developing my own business. I realized my queerness during my teenage years. I remember confusion and the feeling that something was wrong with me. As it turned out later, internal conflicts are a common occurrence among queer teenagers, since queers are underrepresented in society or are presented in a negative way.

What does the queer community mean to you? What is it like to be a queer person and a non-white queer person in Russia?

M.:

Queers are people who identify with any gender and sexual identity other than cis-hetero*. Plus queer people have a sense of community within the group. For example, I've met gay guys who make misogynistic comments about women, or who openly hate feminine men, and so on - I definitely wouldn't classify them as queer.

I moved to the West precisely because I don’t see a future in Russia. Freedom to be yourself is the main thing for me; neither Russia nor Yakutia can provide this at the moment. Unfortunately, I did not experience queer experience in Yakutia, since I moved to the “Russian” city at the age of 17. But according to recollections, being a queer Asian in Russian cities was difficult: “no Asians” signatures on dating apps in the Russian gay community are the norm. As long as this exists, we still have a long road to acceptance.

*cisgender and heterosexual people are people who have the same biological sex and gender identity, and are also attracted to the opposite sex

Altan:

The queer community is people. I love queer people, I love the queer community.

As such, there is no organized “LGBT movement” (editor’s note: in 2023, Russian authorities banned and declared the non-existent “International LGBT Social Movement” extremist). The queer community is simply people who are united by the fact that they do not fit into the cishetero matrix. And this non-fitting - sometimes you can count it, and you can understand from a person that he is “one of our own”. We are different, but we have overlaps in experience. We feel safer around each other, especially when the political situation is always tense.

Being a queer person in Russia means, for example, getting rejected for projects because you openly talk about yourself. This is being marginalized in professional communities. It is still impossible to be openly queer and at the same time successful. Everything is in the closet. You can tell that a person is gay or they are a lesbian just by the vibe: by the music, by the style, by some indirect things, by the way they are “friends” with someone of the same sex, or by who they live with. But these are all signals that are read only within the community. On the outside, the person simply looks “very creative.”

Being a queer person of color means:

If you're Asian, even within the lesbian community there can be fetishization.

If you are a Buryat and you are homo or trans*, they can tell you: “You need to go through a ritual, maybe you have a shamanic gift,” this was actually said to two of my friends.

If you are a queer person from Buryatia, people often automatically think that you have a hellish history, that you are not accepted, that you have terrible homophobia at home. Because they perceive the Buryats as “wild, backward.”

I haven’t lived much outside of Buryatia, and it’s difficult for me to say what it’s like to be a Buryat queer person in a different context. In Irkutsk, I had situations of outright racism, but they were not about queerness.

Dashi:

I really love the queer community, it's always easier to connect with someone if they have a queer experience. But I’ve never had groups of friends built around queerness, always based on interests, but with a large proportion of queer people. The realization that I live in Russia has always been somehow burdensome, but I also shared it with non-queer friends. I felt like there was a big dangerous world out there, but I always felt comfortable in my surroundings.

Homophobia in Buryatia seemed to be caused by a misunderstanding. Sincere hatred towards queer people seemed to be inherent only in Russia, somewhere outside. I felt my non-whiteness only in Moscow with a large group of Buryat friends: I am fair-haired, apparently, my appearance does not provoke Russians to comment, but the appearance of my friends does. Fortunately, I didn’t encounter any hatred – only comments “how many of you are here today”, “such an unusual appearance”. In Minsk we encountered more strange situations: they didn’t believe us that we were not Chinese, on the street they remembered Hiroshima.

Mergen:

I was once told that if you leave Russia, you need to completely change your thinking, make it broader. In Russia, the queer community was a small, quiet corner where I could open up, find my people, and not have a mask.

It’s difficult to be a queer person in Russia, and it’s doubly so as a non-white person. There is a double stigma: what comes easily to ordinary white people, we need to conquer and achieve. Very often in big cities there is severe racism in the queer community.

Agvan:

In fact, I have almost no sense of belonging to the white queer community. For them, I am not interesting either as a person or as a romantic object. It seems to me that white standards of beauty still reign in the white LGBTQ+ community, especially within Russia.

Kundul:

I'm very happy to be part of the queer community. Of course, it is difficult to be gay and a person of color in Russia. But I myself have never been subjected to violence against myself for these reasons. As a heterosexual, I don't think I would have achieved the successes that have become the basis of my current life. I went to a Yakut school, so there was no bullying based on my ethnicity, but I was bullied for my manners and femininity. And then I compensated for this by making great efforts in my studies. As a result, I successfully passed the Unified State Exam, entered a Moscow university and learned English well. If I were heterosexual, it seems to me that I would have stayed in the Yakut village.

Yana:

For me, the queer community is a cozy part of society that gives hope for a bright future, where diverse groups of people are united by a common goal - peaceful coexistence. At least that's what we're aiming for.

The queer community is quite stigmatized in Russia. However, we learn to survive. About ten years ago the queer community was more open, then after the adoption of a number of marginalizing laws, we closed ourselves off. This led to a kind of crisis in the queer community, which fragmented into small different movements, where everyone sought approval from society.

Since queerness can be hidden, it’s easier to live with in Russia, but there’s always the feeling that you’re an unwanted cell under a microscope and they’re trying to crush you. You just adapt to new realities, hide your real self. Where necessary you laugh it off, and sometimes you even play along.

Did it feel like queerness and ethnic identity were in conflict? If yes, why did this happen?

M.:

Being Sakha and being queer is cool. I have never had conflicts between these identities, because identity is the intersection of these two (and more) parts of my life. At least in my head. We Sakhalars are quite calm people, we are closer to nature than people of Abrahamic religions. And I always thought what could be more natural than love? Therefore, there were no conflicts.

Altan:

I've never had anything like this. When I came out to my mom about my non-binary identity and my pronouns, she said that I was just Buryat. I think that she has every right to say so, because she is a teacher of the Buryat language, and the Buryat language is gender neutral.

I always bask in the thought that in Buryat I would hardly be misgendered*.

Also, at the age of 15, I read in a book that was kept at home about the myth with the shamans Asuykhan and Khusykhan, who were the mothers of Bulagat and Ekhirit**. This myth is associated with the area where I come from. My interpretation is that these shamans are a lesbian couple who adopted children, and the homophobes simply made them sisters... I remember I talked about this idea in a writing course, and people were surprised at my courage that I could interpret mythology - because it can cause a lot of hate. In my opinion, I have as much right to freedom of interpretation as any other Buryat. All these mythical “traditionalists” construct the past as they want, why can’t I do this?

Being a queer Buryat is wonderful! There is no conflict between these two identities in me.

*Misgendering is most often the intentional use of other pronouns when a person has already named their comfortable pronouns. For example, calling a person OH when you have already been asked to address them as SHE.

**ancestors of two Buryat tribes

Dashi:

I have never felt a conflict between ethnic identity and queerness. In Buryatia, queer identity defined me more; outside Buryatia, it was ethnic identity.

Mergen:

Yes, any society has traditions. Our ethnic identity sometimes conflicts with our queer identity. There is pressure from relatives, parents, colleagues. I believe that today's teenagers are more tolerant.

Queerness and ethnic identity have always been in conflict for me. But in other countries this is an additional value, where you are a complex and unique person. Each person has multiple identities, and they are useful for making connections.

Agvan:

Absolutely not. The more you read about the history of different peoples, the more you understand that colonization and Christianity go hand in hand with homophobia and sexism. In the mythology of my people, there are enough myths about queer relationships and there is only one pronoun for “she/he/it.”

Kundul:

After school, I moved to Moscow to study. Before that, I lived in Yakutsk, went to a Yakut school, so before moving I didn’t even need to speak Russian. Of course, I knew Russian, but my native language is Yakut (Sakha). We speak Sakha in our family, with friends and in general in any situations in Yakutsk. Therefore, in the first year in Moscow, I felt insecure in my Russian, I had an accent, and I was very embarrassed by it. Although all these complexes were in my head. All classmates and teachers were very open and accepting. Nobody discriminated against me based on my ethnicity. But there was everyday racism. For example, we had Chinese in our group. When the teachers did roll call, they read these Chinese names and looked at me, expecting that I was also Chinese.

Yana:

I won’t say that there is any conflict between queerness and ethnic identity. I’m even proud to be a queer person from my ethnic group, and I try my best to support my people. I have experienced equal exclusion of my queerness. I won’t say that homophobia is more pronounced in my ethnic group.

But I can say that society is more accepting of me as a lesbian than as a non-white woman. Being queer in Russia is safer than being non-white.

Is there sensitivity in the Russian queer community to decoloniality/racism, and vice versa, among indigenous communities to homophobia? What emotions did you experience when/if you encountered racism or homophobia in these environments?

M.:

I can say that even if there is empathy from white queers to non-whites or indigenous peoples to queers, it is small, and I would even say insignificant.

Altan:

There is no sensitivity to decoloniality and racism in the Russian queer community. Nowadays, tokenism* has become a fashionable topic among queer communities. I remember when an LGBT organization wrote to us at the decolonial organization asking to participate in their online Pride. They wanted one person to talk about the queer traditions of different peoples of Russia. It was strange, because one person is not able to talk about the queer traditions of all peoples. Only a Moscow “intellectual”, who always knows everything better than anyone, is capable of such a proposal.

The Russian queer community is also full of racism, because they are the same people. At the beginning of the war, there was a case of a white lesbian asking for asylum in Germany and posting stories with open racism and xenophobia against blacks and Arabs. Apparently, she believes that she deserves more than non-white people.

It seems to me that in indigenous communities, at least in the Asian part where shamanism and Buddhism are practiced, the attitude towards queerness is much softer than in Christianity and Islam. Yes, Buddhism, especially the Tibetan school, is somewhat homophobic due to the teachings of individual lamas. But, as I said above, there are no cases of severe homophobia in my environment. I believe that homophobia was brought to Buryatia by the authorities - first Soviet, then Putin.

*Tokenism is the formal and superficial use of different groups to enhance their reputation, without bringing any real benefit to these groups.

Dashi:

In my experience, both communities are susceptible to both issues. Perhaps the deco community is more queer-friendly than the queer community is decolonial. People get into decolonialism largely because of their political views, decoloniality is inherently queer.

The queer community is a big concept. There are gay saunas in Moscow where businessmen go, will they be receptive to deco - no, of course not. But among the people I know, especially those who are gender queer, there is a lot of solidarity with the decolonial community.

Mergen:

I believe that the queer community sometimes has sensitivity to racism. The queer community in Siberia, for example, is more accepting of non-white people. It depends on the city - the larger the city, the less sensitive it is to racism. If I couldn't find housing because of racism, I turned to the queer community.

The indigenous community is sometimes sensitive to homophobia. Most women have an accepting attitude. Maybe in some indigenous communities the topic of queerness is simply not important. It depends on the mentality.

Agvan:

It’s been almost five years since I left the Russian Federation, so I can’t say for sure. But from what I see in my information field, no. I remember how Russian guys wrote in profiles on dating platforms “only guys of Slavic appearance are interested” or “don’t bother Asians.” So draw your own conclusions. As for homophobia among indigenous peoples, it seems to me that it is at the same level as in the European part of Russia; maybe in some places the situation here is even better.

Kundul:

It wasn't until I was 19 that I started to truly come out and live my queer identity. I came out to close friends and classmates, and everyone responded with great support and acceptance. I started wearing bright makeup and dressing, not hiding my manners. And there was no violence about this either. I started going to gay clubs in Moscow. The end of the 2010s was still very open and free in the city. The World Cup had just passed, and it seemed that everything would soon get better. I had a boyfriend at the time, and we could walk hand in hand and kiss in public.

I associated the Yakut language with a conservative lifestyle, traditions and strict social norms. However, now I’m watching on Instagram how the younger generation – my generation – are making the language their own, and creating very cool and modern things in the Sakha language. Queer slang is translated into Yakut or analogs are found, my favorite: yһan-togon kepsee (spill the tea). Streetwear using elements of traditional attire appeared in Yakutsk.

And in general, despite the traditionalism and conservatism in the Yakut language and culture, due to the proximity of Asia and the great distance to Central Russia, Yakutsk has always seemed to me a more progressive city in comparison with Moscow in terms of accepting different identities. A lot of young people dress brightly, dye their hair and express themselves very openly. It seems to me that people in the republic have more acceptance, because they experience discrimination themselves. And then they have solidarity towards other discriminated groups.

Yana:

The Russian queer community has currently lost its former sympathy for individual problems of society. It seems to say, we have enough of our own problems. My white friends and queer acquaintances deny the existence of racism in Russia, let alone colonialism. After much debate, we don’t raise this topic anymore, it’s more convenient for them.

In indigenous communities, according to my observations, the issue of the queer part of society is not so pressing. Most of the indigenous societies are simply trying to survive in this crush, preserve their culture, language and save the population. Never before have national minorities been so aware and under such threat - I'm talking about the countless victims of war.

What is your history with accepting queer and ethnic identities (if there was one)? What helped you?

M.:

I didn't have a stage of accepting myself as queer. I knew who I was, and I understood that sometimes being myself is dangerous, and I need to behave the way society needs. Therefore, I was planning my move already, probably, when I was 15 years old. There was no ethnic acceptance either. I studied at a Yakut school and grew up in Yakutia, and fortunately - I adore the Republic of Sakha, and would like to return there to live, most likely in my old age somewhere in Amga, this is my favorite place in Yakutia.

Altan:

I always grew up with pride that I am a Buryat. I had one moment: at about 13 years old I was following a lot of Tumblr-style Instagrams of teenage girls, and I had thoughts that I would be more beautiful if I were a white girl. Although I was a very beautiful child and teenager. I think these thoughts were due to the lack of representation of Asian women in the media. Then I met the “Body Positive” public page, which introduced me to feminism, and very soon I stopped worrying about my appearance.

With a queer identity. When I was 13, I found out about asexuality and thought it was right for me because I didn't have that much interest in boys. As a child, I had thoughts that girls are more attractive than men, but it seemed to me that this was just an objective fact, and I still think so... Then, at the age of 15, I watched the film “The Life of Adele”, I really liked it. Afterwards I watched more than 50 films on a lesbian theme, subscribed to lesbian public pages, I felt that this was about me. All my relationships were only with feminine girls. I am not attracted to masculinity, I love feminine energy, femininity, women. And women love to break my heart...

I'm kind of bisexual, but I can't take men seriously. Last year I had a very traumatic event, so I went on a lot of dates with guys as a coping mechanism. But somehow it’s impossible to consider them seriously, because I don’t feel the same chemistry that I have with girls. I'm a little shy about calling myself bisexual: I'm technically bisexual, but the experiences are very different. Although maybe it’s like that for everyone.

With non-binary. At the age of 13, along with asexuality, I learned the word “agender” and realized that it was about me. But at about 15 I became a TERF*, I think, due to internal transphobia. It seemed to me that if I could easily live as a woman, use female pronouns, but at the same time be gender non-conforming, then this meant that everyone could do this, and there was no point in being transgender. But after a couple of years I outgrew this idea. Decoloniality helped me with this. I realized that TERF ideas are white supremacist ideas. Many cultures before European colonization had non-binary and trans people. This fact helped me accept other people and myself, helped me understand how binary is contrary to nature and naturalness. And although I do not like such concepts, they are necessary to deconstruct the transphobic narrative.

*TERF is a movement of feminism that excludes trans women from its agenda

Dashi:

Somehow it was easy. It was harder to accept that I could also like girls, because a big pillar of my identity since my early teens was that my interests were always friendly and “safe.” Buryat identity was background in Buryatia, which is logical for me, as if identity for me is always what distinguishes you from the majority. I grew up without knowing Buryat; my mother always spoke of other families as “real Buryats.” Thousands of kilometers from home now, studying Buryat, I can call myself a real Buryat, I recently felt it.

Mergen:

At first there was complete apathy. But then you realize that you can’t do anything with nature, and you just accept it. With ethnic identity, I think that's my strength, I can put it as an added value. It is not in Russia that I feel that my identities complement each other. I think it's more of a mental issue, especially for teenagers. We need to discuss, raise, say that this is normal. It's sad that sometimes teenagers commit suicide.

Agvan:

As I have already said, the awareness of my orientation was immediately followed by acceptance. I have never been ashamed or accepting of my sexuality.

It became more and more difficult with national identity... as I got older, I began to feel like I was unattractive because I had Asian features. Growing up, I almost never saw positive representation of Asian women, which I think played a big role. I was attracted exclusively to people with European appearance. And it seemed to me that someone like me could never please a person of white appearance.

Then I became acquainted with the concept of body positivity, and began to compliment myself while looking in the mirror, and over time, this is how I solved my problems with accepting myself and my appearance. It seems to me that this was just treating the symptoms. Truly, I began to accept my people and myself after mobilization. Something broke that day, perhaps the white and Russian-washed part of my personality. Since then, I have not identified myself as a Russian.

Kundul:

I still don't understand how to balance my queer and Indigenous identities. In Yakut society there is an image of a strong man - the head of the family and breadwinner. I don't fit that image. Now I’m trying to live my queer part in the Sakha language.

In emigration, I especially began to miss my native language and Yakut culture. Therefore, I began to be interested in what queer history was like in Yakutia, and what is happening now. I keep a diary and record my dates and relationships in Sakha. At first it was very wild, but now it has become more familiar. I still haven’t come out to my family and parents. They expect me to have a family and children, and they place great responsibility on me for the continuation of the family, language and people. I myself really want to have a family and children, and teach them Yakut. I really don’t know how to do this yet. I have a very good relationship with my family, and I am very afraid of ruining it.

There is no grammatical gender in the Yakut language, so it is very neutral. At the same time, the language is very emotional and you can easily convey a lot of nuances or your attitude to the story being told. Therefore, I imagine that queer people in Yakutia express themselves very cleverly and sharply in Sakha. I am very sorry that I have not yet lived my adult life in Yakutsk. I really want to know what’s going on in queer circles.

Yana:

The story of accepting my queer identity began when such words did not exist in the Russian-speaking space. Of course, I faced internal conflicts that I was not prepared for, and at first I denied all my feelings. When you're a child growing up in a society where you're taught that being queer is something shameful and almost criminal, you get confused. It takes a lot of time to understand that orientation and gender identity are different things, to realize that you are also a member of society and have the right to live with dignity.

It's the same with ethnic identity. The only difference was when I realized that I was a member of a national minority, I quickly and with dignity accepted it. But what a shame it was when I realized that even here I was not the most recognized part of society. And that here they are also trying to hush up my identity, erase it and impose the said whiteness on me, covering it up with assimilation.

What challenges do queer people of color face? What government decisions affect this?

Altan:

Russia is now promoting the superiority of the Russian nation over all others due to the latest amendments to the Constitution of the Russian Federation about the state-forming people*, as well as Nazi ideas about the purity of the race due to repressive laws against queer and trans* people, and against migrants.

The ban on trans transition is a murderous law, because gender-affirming operations** and change of documents are the basis for a comfortable life for trans people, without this you constantly live in fear for your life.

Adding the so-called “LGBT movement” to the list of extremists, which also included national and decolonial movements. We are placed next to each other not because we are dangerous, but because we do not give in to atomization. Because we know how to unite and support each other. And this is the real threat to the regime. LGBT rights and the right to self-determination are about horizontal connections, about real democracy, about the fact that you can live not in fear and not alone.

The ban on so-called “LGBT propaganda” is absurd. Here is an example: hetero propaganda surrounds people all the time, there is much more of it than gay propaganda, but LGBT people still lived, live and will always live. Hermaphroditism and homosexuality occur among animals; it seems that animals have not yet invented propaganda.

Testing migrant children's knowledge of the Russian language before entering school - I don't have enough imagination to appreciate the cruelty of people in power. Why do we promote migration to Russia among right-wing and conservative people in Western countries, but set such conditions for admission to school? Where should children learn Russian, if not in the environment? School is a child's basic right. This decision isolates, cuts off, makes strangers, and further drives migrant families into a marginal position.

You can endlessly continue these new laws, which are created to make life in Russia only worse, but not to mention how they mock the national republics with extractivism and drive us into poverty.

*in 2020, amendments were adopted to the Constitution of the Russian Federation, which, among other things, consolidated the status of the Russian language as the language of the state-forming people.

**Gender affirming surgery is surgery designed to change the physical characteristics of the body to match the gender identity of a transgender person. These include hormone therapy, facial surgery, hair removal, and body plastic surgery.

Dashi:

Queer people of color face double discrimination. Not all people in the diaspora will be open to you if you are queer. Racism intersects with queerphobia. I don’t know what government decisions can change anything. I attribute my positive experiences growing up only to economic privilege.

Mergen:

Everyone has a different background, they can be beaten, raped, they can have problems finding housing. The latest laws add fuel to the fire - more and more people are pitted against each other. The terrorist, mafia state does not understand ordinary people. And non-white queer people are at the end of the abyss; they need a lot of life experience and cunning to survive in today's Russia. It is very difficult mentally and physically. We need to declare that we are like this.

Kundul:

Since the start of Covid, I have started to notice more and more racism. They didn’t get on the subway near me. The police began checking the documents of persons of non-Slavic appearance. I was looking for a new apartment in Moscow, and the realtor asked me directly over the phone if I was Russian. And somehow, while living in Moscow, I moved away from my Yakut part, spoke the language less and less and noticed that I began to forget it. It was very scary to watch.

The queer space was mostly white and Russian-speaking, of course. Several times we were not allowed into gay bars and clubs because they thought we were migrants. Then I had the opportunity to study abroad, and I flew away. It turned out that it was just in time.

Yana:

Queer people of color face xenophobia from white queer people. It happens that a person may be queer or an ally themselves, but does not approve of your culture and shows intolerance based on ethnicity.

What kind of tolerance can we talk about here if the state approves of oppressing non-whites? At the state level, it is believed that only whites live in Russia, and non-whites are marginalized and have a prejudiced attitude towards them. The authorities are spreading the idea that non-whites are not citizens of the Russian Federation and are obviously criminals. This damages the reputation of indigenous peoples and creates an identity crisis: when you are told every day that, for example, dark-haired people are not part of society, you will start dyeing your hair, so much so that you forget what you really are. But in a healthy society this should not be the case.