"Never be silent again, because we will never be invisible again"
Voice for those who were not heard
Dear friends, dear allies, dear people,
My name is Joelina, I am part of a queer Muslim collective.
I am not alone here today. I speak with the voices of many
of those who could not speak,
from those you never wanted to hear,
and from those who were too loud for your safety.
We are here at the CSD and we are not here by chance.
We stand because others have fallen.
We are standing because we have survived.
We stand because we have learnt:
Never quiet again.
Because every silence has cost us:
Flats. Jobs. Families. Friendships. Health. Life.
We kept quiet in order to survive.
But today we live to never be silent again.
I am a transTrans (short for transgender or transident) describes people whose gender identity does not match the gender they are assigned. Mehr Woman. A migrant. A Muslim woman.
And these are not contradictions.
That is my reality.
And reality demands visibility.
Spaces for queer life outside the norm
In our collective, we create spaces that are often lacking outside.
Spaces for queer Muslims. For black, brown people, transTrans (short for transgender or transident) describes people whose gender identity does not match the gender they are assigned. Mehr and non-binary people.
For those who do not fit into the image that the white majority society has of "queerQueer is a collective term for people whose sexual orientation or gender identity does not conform to the social norm of "heterosexuality". Mehr" makes.
Or the queer Germany of "us".
But we do exist.
We pray. We celebrate. We mourn. We love.
And we organise ourselves.
Because:
Never quiet again also means:
We say what hurts.
We name what is missing.
And we demand what we are entitled to.
If you see us at the CSD today,
you don't just see glitter and flags.
You also see the scars of police violence.
Fear in the asylum procedure.
Anger at every law that ignores us.
And the pain of every silence that has betrayed us.
For a community in which no one is forgotten
I would like to thank Berliner AIDS-Hilfe for allowing me to speak here on this float today.
Because it is precisely here, on a float that has been fighting for education, care and empowerment for decades, that our visibility must also take place:
From transTrans (short for transgender or transident) describes people whose gender identity does not match the gender they are assigned. Mehrof migrant, of Muslim, of multiple marginalised queer lives.
Because if you say AIDS service, you also have to say community.
And community means: no one is forgotten. No one is left behind.
I dream of a CSD,
where nobody has to be afraid to go home.
Where transTrans (short for transgender or transident) describes people whose gender identity does not match the gender they are assigned. Mehr Children should not be discussed, but protected.
Where queer spaces are not only safe for some
but also for those whose realities of life often remain invisible:
for migrant women, for refugees, for Muslim women, for the poor, for people with disabilities.
Because visibility does not end where it becomes uncomfortable.
Our existence is not just resistance.
She is Beauty.
She is Community.
She is sacred.
With this in mind:
Tender in anger. Radical in love.
Never quiet again.
Never be invisible again.
We are many. We are resistant.
We are here.
Thank you.