Imagining a Truly Inclusive Sri Lanka
Photo courtesy of EFE
“Labels are distancing phenomena. They push us away from each other,” wrote Leo Buscaglia in his seminal 1972 book based on the world’s first university course on love. Labels are containers. They are meant to define you but in doing so they also limit you.
For decades, one community that has lived under the weight of such labels is the LGBTIQ+ community.
In Sri Lanka, the situation is uniquely complicated. Same-sex marriage is not legally recognized. While the law technically allows a person to change their gender on official documents, the process is long, invasive and deeply challenging. Religious and cultural arguments are frequently used as reasons to resist LGBTQ+ acceptance, with some leaders dismissing queerness as “culturally inappropriate.”
But what is culture if not the collective way of life of a people? And if LGBTQ+ people have always existed in our societies, which they have, then they are as much a part of our culture as anyone else. For queer people of faith, this constant tension between identity and religion becomes even more painful, often forcing them to choose between the two.
Imagine a Sri Lanka where no one has to hide who they are. Where a young man doesn’t feel the need to lower his voice to avoid being mocked as “too feminine.” Where a young woman doesn’t have to feign interest in marriage proposals just to keep her family happy. Where a transgender person doesn’t have to justify their very existence every time they try to access healthcare, education or employment.
Imagine a world where a lesbian woman isn’t subjected to non-consensual sex by her own family when they discover she loves women instead of men. Where a gay man with a feminine gender expression doesn’t face daily humiliation and physical or verbal abuse simply for being himself. Where police officers don’t turn away complaints made by transgender persons who have been harassed, violated or abused. Where nurses in public hospitals treat transgender patients with dignity instead of shaming them in front of staff and visitors, dismissing gender transition surgeries as “unnecessary.” Where parents who stand by their daughter’s choice to transition aren’t humiliated or blamed by government doctors for helping her live her truth.
An inclusive country would ensure that no queer young person skips school because of relentless bullying. That no transgender person is turned away from lifesaving healthcare simply for being who they are. It would mean doctors, teachers and counselors are trained to treat LGBTIQ people with respect, not judgment. That classrooms openly teach children that diversity in gender and sexuality is part of nature, therefore natural and not something to be hidden in shame.
Family is at the heart of our Sri Lankan culture. Yet too many queer Sri Lankans are pushed out of their homes, forced into marriages or subjected to emotional abuse.
A truly inclusive Sri Lanka would be one where parents stand by their children not because they tolerate them but because they love them. Where a transgender person won’t be pressured into becoming someone they are not, just to make their family feel more comfortable. Where they won’t be told they are a disappointment or made to carry the weight of guilt for simply being who they are. Where a mother’s love isn’t used as a weapon, threatening suicide over her child’s choice to transition. Where parents don’t try to erase their child’s identity through conversion therapy simply because they love someone of the same sex. Where parents don’t punish or humiliate their child by taking them to the police for being who they are.
Workplaces should be safe spaces where queer people can work without fear of being fired or harassed if their identities become known. Inclusion means employers recognize diversity as a strength. It means adopting non-discrimination policies and having mechanisms in place for harassment or bullying and making sure every employee feels valued and respected for who they are.
A study revealed that 47% of transgender men face significant challenges in the job application process due to the misalignment of their gender identity with the traditional expectations of potential employers. These barriers range from subtle biases to outright discrimination. Some participants shared that employers unconsciously relied on gender stereotypes when evaluating qualifications, leading to transgender men being overlooked or unfairly judged.
In Puttalam district, a gay man with a feminine gender expression was harassed during a job interview. Interviewers openly mocked his voice, the way he walked and how he behaved. He was ultimately denied the opportunity not because of his skills but because of who he was.
Inclusivity also looks different depending on where you stand in society. Queer individuals from upper middle class families may have access to education, resources and supportive networks that cushion the impact of prejudice but at the grassroots level, life is far harsher. Many queer people struggle with poverty, lack of access to quality healthcare, limited educational opportunities and deep-seated stigma in their own families and communities. They face trauma and silence with little space to demand their rights or even live openly. This is why inclusive policies and community support are not luxuries; they are lifelines.
Every major religion practiced in Sri Lanka, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam and Christianity are rooted in values of love, compassion and non-violence. What greater compassion can there be than allowing another person to live honestly, without fear or harm?
A truly inclusive Sri Lanka would draw from these values, not distort them to exclude.
