Uncovering queer history allowed me to claim my trans identity with pride 

An ambassador from Just Like Us talks about the power of learning about drag balls and the Hijra community

BY RUSH MITTAL, IMAGE BY FOTOSALBERTO

Moving from India to Manchester in the midst of a pandemic was more than a change of scenery — it marked the beginning of my queer journey. University brought the space and distance I’d never had at home, allowing me to explore past the confines of the gender binary. Away from the expectations and familiarity of “home” I began to ask the questions I hadn’t dared to ask before.

In my second year of Architecture, a project led me deep into Manchester’s rich queer history. I learned that this city, known today as the “gay capital of the UK”, had roots in resilience and defiance. 

Among my discoveries was a story that stayed with me: a record of the first “Drag Ball” in the backstreets of Hulme, held in 1880. At this event, 22 men, dressed in women’s clothes, danced and celebrated together — only to be raided by police, acting on an anonymous tip. By night’s end, 47 men were arrested, their names and details splashed across newspapers, exposing them to ridicule and danger. 

But instead of quashing queerness, the raid sparked a quiet movement, drawing LGBTQIA individuals from across the country to Manchester. Ironically, the same city that once tried to hide us in shame became a refuge, a place where queer identity could begin to flourish.

Over a century later, the Whitworth Art Gallery honoured Manchester’s legacy of queerness with Undefining Queer, one of the largest queer exhibitions in the UK. Volunteering with this project, I witnessed the resilience of queer art and culture preserved in the gallery’s archives. 

Among these was the story of the Hijra community — one that resonated deeply with me as an Asian person. The Hijra, a third gender in South Asian cultures that encompasses trans-femmes, non-binary individuals and others outside the binary, were once revered in royal courts, often wearing saris as symbols of their unique identity. Over time, the sari itself has become a powerful emblem of queer activism in places like India and Bangladesh.

As a kid born in India, learning the true history of the Hijra community felt like uncovering a hidden part of my history. It was a reminder that trans identity is not a modern phenomenon born of social freedom; rather, it has always existed, woven into the fabric of Asian cultures through gender fluidity, androgyny, and liberated expressions of sexuality. Colonialism may have forced rigid binaries upon us, but remembering and honouring these histories has allowed me to reclaim my own trans identity with confidence and pride.

But trans history is more than those who came before us, it is also about those who are making history right now, and will be remembered for generations to come. 

In the same spirit of resilience, I am continually inspired by Alok Menon, a gender-nonconforming writer and activist who speaks with raw honesty about growing up as a person of South Asian descent and being punished for their differences long before they understood it. This outside imposition, though isolating, ultimately fuelled their strength, creativity, and advocacy for others. 

Alok’s journey reminds me that identity is not just an introspective journey but also a collective one, built on the resilience of those who came before and the courage of those who, today, live unapologetically. In connecting with their work, I feel a kinship across distance and experience — a reminder that queerness, like the journey itself, is both timeless and boundless. Alok’s activism has shown me that true liberation lies not just in being accepted but in reclaiming space with pride, celebrating the beauty of all identities beyond the binary.

These histories and voices echo in my own journey, connecting the past to the present. They remind me that queer identity is both ancient and enduring, a timeless force that cannot be erased — only rediscovered, reclaimed, and lived unapologetically.

Rush is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBT+ young people’s charity. Just Like Us needs LGBT+ ambassadors aged 18-25 to speak in schools – sign up now.

DIVA magazine celebrates 30 years in print in 2024. If you like what we do, then get behind LGBTQIA media and keep us going for another generation. Your support is invaluable. 

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