In 1994, the United States granted asylum to an individual on the basis of sexual orientation for the first time. This opened the door for LGBTQ immigrants facing persecution in their countries of origin to seek protection as refugees and asylees. Thirty years later, immigration continues to be central to our political discourse and remains a focus in the presidential election.
In response to the US allowing asylum claims from LGBTQ immigrants, the National Center for Lesbian Rights (NCLR) immediately established our Immigration Project, now called Hogar [Home] – Legal and Practical Support for LGBTQ Immigrants in 1994. Since then, the Immigration Project has advanced immigration law and assisted thousands of LGBTQ immigrants in obtaining legal status in the U.S. Our clients have been able to avoid being forced to return to their countries of origin where they would be targeted for abuse, violence, and even death because of their sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression.
I began working with NCLR’s Immigration Project in 1996 and have witnessed the discourse and nature of immigration and asylum shift drastically. The clients I work with are in a precarious situation, and are uniquely vulnerable, given their status as immigrants and members of the LGBTQ community.
In 30 years, we have witnessed the unimaginable strength and resilience of immigrants to create a life for themselves in this country, as well as the sacrifices and hardships they have survived on the way. We have seen parents make arduous sacrifices for their children to have a better future. We have seen our clients endure unfathomable challenges to obtain asylum and safety for themselves and their families in this country. We have worked with siblings who fled their home because they were both facing violence and hatred because one of them was a lesbian. We have seen parents leave their children behind as they embarked on their journey to this country. And we have seen those parents reunite with their children years later. It is difficult to describe the joy and the pain of these long-awaited reunions. Joy because people who love each other are finally able to hug and share their lives together, and pain because of all the time lost. Despite the fact that our clients come from all walks of life, their humanity is what unites all of us.
These are people in search of safety and a new home. I think many members of the LGBTQ community can identify with that. What I would also ask them to consider is how they would feel if the only way they knew they could survive violent and oppressive homophobia and transphobia would be to leave the only country they’ve ever known. Leaving home is one challenge, finding your way to another is an additional challenge, and navigating life in a new country is yet another challenge. These challenges grow even more demanding when immigrants in search of asylum for a better life are vilified and made to feel lesser than those born in the U.S.
In my 28 years of doing this work, I’ve never heard such demonization of immigrants and jingoism from politicians as I do today. LGBTQ immigrants have suffered so much because of who they are. I feel honored to be part of an organization helping LGBTQ immigrants make the San Francisco Bay Area their new home. We help our clients navigate bureaucratic obstacles like obtaining drivers licenses, changing their gender markers, and securing housing. While there are always more people who need our help than our resources permit, I am so proud of the LGBTQ immigrants we’ve supported for thirty years.
In a few days, this country will hold an election. We know what is at stake and we know that our lives, whether we are immigrants or not, will never be the same if we do not fight for democracy. As an immigrant myself, I want to hold on to the belief that we, as a nation, can continue to be a refuge for the many other fellow human beings who are being displaced by wars, violence, and hatred. I want to believe that we can continue to offer safety and peace to all immigrants, especially to LGBTQ immigrants who have encountered opposition, hatred, and life and death situations simply for being who they are. I am hopeful that our work continues to lend a helping hand to the many who only want to call this country their ‘home’.
