Are There Ugly Cats?

Yanna called me in a frenzy as I was on my way to class. “Sir, the students have bullied me for being a transwoman,” she said. I replied, “Ma’am, exit the classroom and I will handle the rest of the class. I’m about to reach.” Yaana held back her tears and responded, “No, if I walk out now, I would feel like I validated their bullying. I want to be able to finish the class.”

Once inside the classroom, as we discussed various aspects of environmental degradation, the topic of plastic waste arose. When I asked if any students had an empty bottle, one of them threw one at me. In response, I suggested a different approach: “If we enjoy throwing things, let’s have a paper plane contest instead. If we listen to each other and complete the activity, then we can play.” After a lively paper plane contest, one student used the same plastic bottle, threw it at another student, and hurled transphobic slurs at him.

We took the bottle to later be used in building a plastic waste brick, comforted the affected student, and didn’t reprimand the other student. Instead Yaana decided to share her story.

“Originally from a village near the forests of Nagarahole, I was the teacher’s pet at our government school and consistently topped my class. I enjoyed making bracelets from leaves and celebrating good hair days. But as the bullying escalated, my grades suffered. Eventually, I left the city and had to resort to begging and odd jobs despite almost completing my degree.

Years of activism and hands-on experience eventually led me to learn coding and utilise my indigenous scientific knowledge to teach STEM subjects to all of you. Becoming a teacher fulfilled my lifelong dream and remains my greatest satisfaction.”

As Yaana concluded her story, the students listened attentively and applauded for a full two minutes. Those who had previously bullied her now wanted to take selfies with her, and many invited her to teach regularly.

On another occasion when she passed as a cis-woman, a few students asked, “Ma’am, how many kids do you have?”. Apart from experiencing gender euphoria, Yaana was also saddened. She replied, “Next time, let me tell the students I’m a transwoman so they understand we don’t just beg or engage in sex work. I want them to see us represented in mainstream professions and respect our community”.

Representation, a powerful tool for social equity championed by Babasaheb Ambedkar through reservation, was exemplified in Karnataka when it became the first state to introduce a one percent reservation for transgender individuals in government jobs under the Yediyurappa administration.

Yaana was invited to speak at the Stonewall Remembrance Pride Day at Sangama, a Karnataka-based NGO that works for transgender welfare. Yaana had worked for them, helping scale and championing transgender rights. Following her address, we witnessed first-generation transwomen holding positions from bus conductors to taluka level officers, breaking new ground in diverse professions.

Mothers of these women, in their traditional saris, from North Karnataka villages who had embraced their offspings’ gender identities into the indigenous traditions of Jogamma, hijra, aravani etc. were also honoured.

In another instance, a student approached me and remarked, “You’re unmarried because you’re ugly.” Naturally, I couldn’t protest or complain; my only recourse was to educate.

Knowing he liked cats, I posed a question: “Do you find certain cats ugly?” He replied, “No, all cats are beautiful.”

Then I asked, “What makes humans any different?”

He said, “I know for a fact that humans are ugly.” I asked, “How is that a fact?” He replied, “You have a point.”

Then I asked him if he knew about women in technology, particularly transwomen in technology that he follows on Twitter. He replied there were none worthy to be followed.

I asked if he had heard about Lynn Conway, who pioneered VLSI, a crucial advancement in chip design. Initially fired by IBM for wanting to transition, she received an apology half a century later and passed away during this year’s Pride month. It’s because of VLSI (Very Large Scale Integration) that a high number of transistors can fit onto a chip, enabling modern computing and mobile phones to function.

She coined the term “Convey Effect” to describe the erasure of labour of transwomen in technology, where credit for work often went solely to men with whom they collaborated. When a museum dedicated to the history of technology was constructed, she wasn’t even invited, let alone included in its exhibits.

Similar was the fate of Sophie Wilson, who co-built one of the earliest prototype computers in an all night hackathon while also binge-watching Princess Diana’s wedding. She wrote the BBC BASIC language that was used in BBC Micros deployed in thousands of schools to teach students programming. Her ARM1 processor-design powers most of the smartphones till date.

Alan Turing devised a machine that ultimately broke the Enigma code during World War II, ensuring victory for the United Kingdom. However, because he was gay, he faced persecution, including separation from his partner and being sentenced to undergo hormone treatment. Tragically, Turing chose to end his life by eating an apple laced with cyanide. This poignant event reportedly inspired the iconic half-eaten apple logo of the technology company, Apple.

While discussing more queer lives that made landmark contributions to technology, like Mary Horton, whom I asked him to look up, the topic of marriage and its intricate social structures, constraints, and regulations arose. He then drew a cat with a pride flag and gifted it to me.

As I roamed around the campus of my alma mater recently, reminiscing about my time there over a decade ago, I couldn’t help but notice a familiar sense of fear in the air. My heart sank when I witnessed a student being called the same hurtful Kannada slur that had been directed at me long ago. It reminded me of the painful experiences of the past. Unfortunately, anti-ragging policy in academic institutions has not evolved to include queerphobia despite the NALSA judgement specifically requiring it.

Many students on campus, particularly those perceived to be different, are often targets of verbal and physical violence. Sensitising teachers to this issue is crucial because they can either intervene against such discrimination or inadvertently contribute to it. Too often, teachers end up questioning the targeted students instead of addressing the root of the problem.

During a lecturer sensitisation, they were asked to think about any gender stereotypes they notice around them. Once they closed their eyes in the activity, the prompt was to shout out which gender flashed in their mind as they heard the following careers—artists, cooks, homemakers, carpenters, tailors, singers and drivers.

In our discussions, clear gender labels emerged. When we asked if they could imagine themselves in roles traditionally filled by the opposite gender, many said yes. However, they also mentioned that societal expectations and cultural norms often discourage people from pursuing roles seen as unconventional.

At times, there was curiosity regarding physical labour and women’s perceived capabilities. It was noted that many women already engage in physically demanding work such as construction and farming. Such gender neutral representation of labour has made a difference in various textbooks. For instance, Kerala and Maharashtra textbooks show men doing household chores or women being doctors. Textbooks in Odisha use cartoons to work with gender issues.

In another situation, a perceived masculine person asked women lecturers to lend them their bangles for a moment. They chuckled at this request and when asked why, they responded, “Why would you want them?” When questioned further about the laughter, given that in many Indian cultures men do wear bangles and so do transwomen, they explained that it’s not “normal”. There was a solemn silence when asked if they laughed because society sometimes mocks men who can’t fulfil traditional masculine roles, and therefore they should wear bangles as a mark of their perceived failure of masculinity.

Further discussion highlighted the unequal treatment of women in society, where their rights are often limited and they are frequently looked down upon.

This prompted the teachers to reflect on the significance of their jewellery and refrain from treating their own objects of gender expression as objects of ridicule. These reflections left the teachers feeling thoughtful and appreciative of their bangles and for folks of any gender trying them out.

Some of the art installations that emerged included a gender coconut, featuring one side with perceived masculine features, another with perceived feminine features, and a third deliberately left blank for individuals to paint their own choice. Another installation involved sand, exploring how we often assume people’s gender by reimagining a popular sandcastle game. In this game, participants held hands, looked at faces without knowing whose hands they held, and had to guess the person’s gender. Many found they guessed incorrectly, highlighting the importance of asking individuals about themselves rather than making assumptions.

Sensitization against bullying is of paramount importance to prevent self harm of queer folks like Arvey or Pranshu recently, or of countless transgender folks who were victimised or bullied throughout history.

In a culture rich with deep traditions, connecting the dots can often be insightful. A girl who had previously been transphobic was exploring the Ektara, a one-stringed musical instrument, at a museum show. When she started humming the popular North Karnataka folk chant “Udho Udho,” I asked her, “Who sings this at the temple?”. She replied, “The Jogammas from my village.” When she realised they were transwomen, she had an aha moment and continued singing the Yellamma song.

This encounter reminded me of the syncretic traditions in our country, where an auto driver and us after a workshop in South Karnataka stopped to eat at the Basaveshwara Khanavali, (named after a North Karnataka anti-caste social reformer and poet), whose auto rickshaw bears a sticker of Devi Yellamma, revered by transfolks, Hindus and Muslims alike, and whose most popular song is “Yelli Kaane, Yelli Kaane yellamma-nantaaki” written by the Muslim saint Shishunal Sharif whose guru was Govinda Bhatta.

(Views expressed are personal)

Srinidhi Prahlad is a museum curator, archivist and co-founder of a tech start-up

Yaana Nayaka is a trans woman, STEM educator, admin at tech enterprise and archivist

(This appeared in the print as 'Are There Ugly Cats?')