Editors note: Students were left partially or fully anonymous in this article, because all of them had safety concerns in terms of being out publicly.

All my life, I’ve begged my parents to let me go to Shahdol, the rural town in India where my grandparents grew up. Family and culture are incredibly important to me, and I’ve always felt (as so many second-generation immigrants do) quite disconnected from my culture. 

But, as a child, my immune system couldn’t handle the rampant diseases endemic to that region. As I grew older, both physical safety and logistical concerns barred me from traveling there.

This January, I’m finally traveling to my grandparents’ hometown for the very first time. After the initial excitement, though, I began to think about how my LBGTQ+ identity will affect the visit.

Heteronormative relationships permeate the culture of the part of India I’m from. Binary gender dynamics are how much of Indian society functions, so the idea of being nonbinary feels out of the question.

I can’t mention my genderqueer identity for the two weeks I’m there – I would be socially shunned if I even mentioned the idea of being LGBTQ+, never mind the threat to my physical safety. 

I wanted to see if anyone else shared my experiences. I set out on a search, talking to LGBTQ+ students across the country about their experiences traveling to less supportive states around the world.

Edwina, American teenager

Edwina, an American high school senior said the disconnect between their culture as a first-generation Chinese immigrant and her identity as a lesbian has been emotionally tumultuous. We left Edwina’s last name and location anonymous to protect her identity and safety.

“Honestly, it broke me,” Edwina said.

China does not recognize same-sex marriage, and does not have anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ+ citizens. China also heavily censors LGBTQ+ content in the media.

“I think that the word homosexuality in China carries a certain connotation of mental illness, which is extremely detrimental,” Edwina said.

Edwina has visited China twice in her life. During her second visit, Edwina already suspected that she was LGBTQ+, but she was not open about her identity.

Edwina still frequently talks to her extended family in China, though. She said her LGBTQ+ identity has strained her relationship with them.

“The topic of family in China is just so important,” Edwina said. “It’s ingrained into their societal psyche. It’s a pillar of their identity. So I can’t really talk to them about my future without talking about children, and a husband, which I clearly don’t want at all … It’s a divide that I can’t cross, because to cross it would mean to renounce me.”

Edwina said she feels like she doesn’t fit into her family’s identity as Chinese.

“Even symbolism, like the Dragon and the Phoenix, in Chinese culture stands for the masculine and the feminine,” Edwina said.“I can’t even, like, describe Chinese Zodiacs without having to fight against the heteronormative expectation.”

Edwina said she doesn’t think she’d be comfortable going back to China with a same-sex partner.

“In China right now, homophobia is reaching a new level, especially because the current president, he is very traditionalist,” Edwina said. “I definitely don’t know if I would be comfortable going back.”

Edwina said though she is working to bridge the gap between her Chinese culture and her LGBTQ+ identity by writing poems about her experiences, she is also rejecting the homophobic side of her culture.

“I hate to say it, but sometimes family is just strangers related by blood,” Edwina said. “So you do what is good for your happiness and you make sure that you are living and not just surviving.”

Dan, Bay Area teenager

“Unless it’s trying to raise awareness about queerness, I really would rather not risk my life again,” Dan, a Bay Area senior, said.

Dan immigrated to the United States when he was seven years old from the Philippines. He currently identifies as bisexual. 

Growing up in the Philippines, Dan said he saw his identity oppressed, ridiculed, and threatened. 

“The only time I’d seen queer characters was when they were being … made fun of on shows,” Dan said. “So that really didn’t set a good impression for me.”

Homosexuality is legal in the Philippines, but same-sex marriage is not recognized, and a 2017-2020 World Values Survey found that 40.1% of respondents from the Philippines said homosexuality was not justifiable.

Dan said that it was difficult seeing the LGBTQ+ community so marginalized.

“It was kind of scary at that point but hey, I’m just glad that I got through,” he said.

If Dan goes back to the part of the Philippines where he’s from, he said he’d be worried about being “red-tagged” as a political extremist and prosecuted for his identity.

“I’m afraid that I’d be labeled a political radical and then jailed for being queer,” Dan said.

Dan said he has no interest in visiting the Philippines except for activism-related purposes, which is something he said he’s thinking about pursuing in the future.

Anonymous Bay Area teenager

“The only reason I feel somewhat safe [visiting Poland] is because I’m not open with my family there,” J said.

J is a Palo Alto student who we are leaving anonymous for their safety. They use they/them pronouns and identify as genderqueer, and they immigrated from Poland in seventh grade.

J has begun identifying as genderqueer and biromantic since moving to California, though they are still questioning their specific labels. J said they didn’t know that non-cisgender and heterosexual sexualities or gender identities existed before then.

A survey held by the European Union in 2019 found that Poland has the largest gap between the life satisfactions of LGBTQ+ people and non-LGBTQ+ people among EU countries. 

The survey found that only 4% of LGBTQ+ Polish students were open about their identity at school, and 58% of LGBTQ+ Polish citizens said they avoided holding hands with their same-sex partner in public for fear of being assaulted, threatened, or harrassed. 

J visits Poland one to two times a year. They said that, since realizing they are LGBTQ+, they feel a disconnect from their family in Poland.

“I used to be pretty close to them,” J said. “But now, there’s this big part of my identity that I can’t really tell them about. Just like small things, when I see someone I haven’t seen in a while, and they say, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’”

J said that they haven’t felt as connected to their Polish identity, in part because of their LGBTQ+ identity.

“Since maybe three years ago, I don’t really like to consider myself Polish anymore,” J said. “I’m not saying I’m American, or whatever. I’m just like, I don’t feel a strong connection to my country anymore. It’s just my family that’s keeping me there.”

However, J said they have found a safe community of LGBTQ+ people in Poland, specifically at an arts camp they attended where everyone was LGBTQ+.

“Every time I visit my family in Poland, which is like every year, every half a year, I find that a lot of people my age identify as LGBTQ,” J said.

J said Poland is making progress, especially in terms of the younger generations. However, they still say they feel unsafe around the older generations, and in Poland as a whole.