World
Honduras government institutions ‘are murdering us’
Lack of opportunities, violence prompt LGBTQ people to migrate
Editor’s note: International News Editor Michael K. Lavers was on assignment for the Washington Blade in Honduras, El Salvador and Mexico from July 11-25.
LA CEIBA, Honduras — Leonela and Jerlín, her partner of 11 years, and their school-age daughter live in La Ceiba, a city on Honduras’ Caribbean coast.
Jerlín was a bus driver in San Pedro Sula, the country’s commercial capital, until gang members shot him three times in 2012 because he couldn’t pay the extortion money from which they demanded from him each month. Jerlín, Leonela and their daughter subsequently fled to La Ceiba, which is about three hours east of San Pedro Sula.
“We left,” Jerlín told the Washington Blade on July 20 during an interview at the offices of Organización Pro Unión Ceibeña (Oprouce), a La Ceiba-based advocacy group. “We fled from there.”
Jerlín migrated to Mexico in January 2019, but returned to Honduras less than a month later because Leonela was in the hospital. The couple and their daughter migrated to Mexico a year later.
Leonela asked for a Mexican humanitarian visa for her and her daughter once they arrived in Ciudad Hidalgo, a Mexican border city that is across the Suchiate River from Tecún Umán, Guatemala.
Leonela told the Blade that she planned to ask for asylum in Mexico and wanted to go to Tuxtla Gutiérrez, the capital of Mexico’s Chiapas state, to find work. Leonela said she and Jerlín instead decided to return to Honduras because they did not want their daughter to further endure the “inhumane” conditions of the migrant detention center in Tapachula, a city that is roughly 20 miles northwest of Ciudad Hidalgo, in which they were living.
“We decided it was better to allow them to deport us,” said Jerlín.
Jerlín, Leonela and their daughter returned to Honduras in May 2020. Someone shot at their house on July 10, 2020.
“They couldn’t even do what people wanted them to do, perhaps even buring us alive,” said Leonela.
Leonela and Jerlín are among the many LGBTQ Hondurans who have decided to leave Honduras in order to escape violence and discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.
Vice President Kamala Harris and other Biden administration officials have acknowledged anti-LGBTQ violence is one of the “root causes” of migration from Honduras and neighboring Guatemala and El Salvador.
Title 42, a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention rule that closed the Southern border to most asylum seekers and migrants because of the coronavirus pandemic, remains in place. The White House has repeatedly told migrants not to travel to the U.S.
Roxsana Hernández, a trans Honduran woman with HIV, died at a New Mexico hospital on May 25, 2018, while in U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement custody.
Natasha, another trans Honduran woman, arrived in Matamoros, a Mexican border city that is across the Rio Grande from Brownsville, Texas, on Oct. 12, 2019. The previous administration forced her to pursue her U.S. asylum case in Mexico under its Migrant Protection Protocols. (The U.S. Supreme Court on Tuesday ordered the Biden administration to reinstate MPP.)
The Blade interviewed Natasha on Feb. 27 at a Matamoros shelter that Rainbow Bridge Asylum Seekers, a program for LGBTQ asylum seekers and migrants that Resource Center Matamoros, a group that provides assistance to asylum seekers and migrants in the Mexican border city, helped create. The U.S. less than two weeks later allowed Natasha to enter the country.
Oprouce Executive Director Sasha Rodríguez, who is trans, has participated in the State Department’s International Visitor Leadership Program.
She said a lack of employment and housing associated with the pandemic has prompted more Hondurans to migrate to the U.S., Mexico and Costa Rica. Rodríguez also told the Blade the U.S. and “our countries sell an American dream that doesn’t exist.”
“Why don’t these American organizations say don’t go,” she said, specifically referring to trans people who have decided to leave Honduras. “Here they see it as beautiful. They are already in the United States, but they were raped while trying to get there. They were kidnapped.”
Alexa, a 27-year-old trans woman from La Ceiba, told the Blade she has friends who live in Mexico. Alexa said she would like to leave Honduras, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone.
“I don’t want to leave her alone and abandon her because I have always fought for her,” Alexa told the Blade during an interview at Oprouce. “She supports me as a woman.”
Alexa said she served a nearly 3-year prison sentence for attempted murder, even though she was defending herself against a woman who was hitting her in the face with a rock. Alexa began to sob when she started to tell the Blade about the Salvadoran man who raped her in prison. She said the warden then forced her to cut her hair and guards doused her with “ice cold water” in an isolation cell.
“I was a woman,” said Alexa. “They made me a man.”
Alexa told the Blade that other prisoners tried to kill her. She said she also tried to die by suicide several times until her release on Jan. 27.
Alexa said she has not been able to find a job since she left prison. She also told the Blade that gang members continue to threaten her.
“It is sometimes very difficult to lead the lifestyle that we lead as trans women in Honduras,” she said, referring to anti-trans discrimination and a lack of employment opportunities.
Venus, a 30-year-old trans woman who is also from La Ceiba, echoed Alexa.
“To be a trans person is synonymous with teasing, harassment, violence and even death,” Venus told the Blade at Oprouce.
Venus said Honduran soldiers regularly attack trans women. She told the Blade a lack of access to health care, machismo and patriarchal attitudes are among the myriad other issues that she and other trans Hondurans face.
“We don’t have access to education, to health (care), to a job,” said Venus. “Above all we are fighting for a gender-based law that recognizes us as women and men.”
Venus added she, like Alexa, would leave Honduras “if I was given the opportunity to do so.”
Landmark ruling finds Honduras responsible for trans woman’s murder
Red Lésbica Cattrachas, a lesbian feminist human rights group based in Tegucigalpa, the Honduran capital, notes 373 LGBTQ Hondurans were reported killed in the country between 2009-2020.
Statistics indicate 119 of those murdered were trans. Red Lésbica Cattrachas also noted 18 of the LGBTQ Hondurans who were reported killed were in Atlántida department in which La Ceiba is located.
Vicky Hernández was a trans activist and sex worker with HIV who worked with Colectivo Unidad Color Rosa, a San Pedro Sula-based advocacy group.
Hernández’s body was found in a San Pedro Sula street on June 29, 2009, hours after the coup that ousted then-President Manuel Zelaya from power. Hernández and two other trans women the night before ran away from police officers who tried to arrest them because they were violating a curfew.
The Inter-American Court of Human Rights in June issued a landmark ruling that found Honduras responsible for Hernández’s murder.
The ruling ordered Honduras to pay reparations to Hernández’s family and enact laws that protect LGBTQ people from violence and discrimination. The government of President Juan Orlando Hernández, whose brother, former Congressman Juan Antonio “Tony” Hernández, is serving a life sentence in the U.S. after a federal jury convicted him of trafficking tons of cocaine into the country, has not publicly responded to the ruling.
Rodríguez noted to the Blade that Oprouce and other advocacy groups have been fighting for a trans rights law in Honduras for more than a decade.
“We have had failure for 11 years, but I think that with what happened with the Inter-American Court, the recommendations that have come from the Vicky Hernández case could achieve something important,” said Rodríguez. “There are very good human rights recommendations for Honduras and there are good recommendations that Honduras could automatically apply to trans women.”
Rodríguez as she discussed the ruling reiterated trans Hondurans continue to face violence, discrimination and a lack of employment opportunities. Rodríguez also reiterated her sharp criticism of her country’s government and its institutions.
“Societal exclusion forces us to do sex work,” she said. “We are being harmed by our trade: Murder, persecution, hate crimes, torture, beatings.”
“I always say that it is an institutional death because state institutions are murdering us,” added Rodríguez.
‘My fight is here’
In spite of these challenges, Rodríguez said there has been progress.
Oprouce — which works on a variety of issues that include the prevention of gender-based violence and fighting HIV/AIDS — offers workshops to the Public Ministry, the Honduran Armed Forces and judges. Asociación de Prevención y Educación en Salud, Sexualidad, Sida y Derechos Humanos (Aprest), another advocacy group in Tela, a city that is about 60 miles west of La Ceiba, conducts similar trainings with local and national authorities.
Aprest Executive Director Leonel Barahona Medina told the Blade during an interview at a beachfront restaurant in Tela on July 20 that city officials have given him an office from which he and his colleagues can work. Barahona said they also supported activists who raised the Pride flag on June 27 in front of Tela City Hall.
A similar ceremony took place in a park in the center of La Ceiba.
“We have good relations with them,” said Barahona, referring to Tela officials.
Both Barahona and Rodríguez said their work will continue.
“My fight is here,” said Rodríguez. “My essence and my dreams are here.”
Abdiel Echevarría-Caban and Reportar sin Miedo contributed to this story.
Cuba
Cuban lawmakers to consider simplifying process for trans people to change IDs
National Assembly in July will reportedly debate proposal
Cuban lawmakers are reportedly poised to consider a proposal that would allow transgender people to legally change the gender marker on their ID documents without surgery.
Cubadebate, a government-run website, on May 11 referenced the proposal in an article about an International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia march in Havana that the National Center for Sexual Education organized.
Mariela Castro, the daughter of former Cuban President Raúl Castro who spearheads LGBTQ issues on the island, is CENESEX’s director.
Cubadebate notes the National Assembly in July will consider an amendment to the country’s Civil Registry Law that “for the first time would allow citizens to determine the sex on their identification cards without the need for a court order or gender assignment surgery.”
Argentina, Uruguay, Germany, and Malta are among the countries that allow trans people to legally change their name and gender without surgery.
Cuba’s national health care system has offered free sex-reassignment surgery since 2008, but activists who are critical of Mariela Castro and CENESEX have said access to these procedures is limited. Mariela Castro, who is also a member of the National Assembly, in 2013 voted against a measure to add sexual orientation to Cuba’s labor code because it did not include gender identity.
The Cuban constitution bans discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity, among other factors. Authorities routinely harass and detain activists who publicly criticize the government.
Chile
Chilean lawmakers back report that calls for suspension of program for trans children
Country’s first transgender congresswoman condemned May 15 vote
The Chilean Chamber of Deputies on May 15 approved a report that recommends the immediate suspension of a program that provides psychosocial support to transgender and gender non-conforming children and adolescents and their parents.
The 56-31 vote in favor of the Investigation Commission No. 57’s recommendations for the Gender Identity Support Program sparked outrage among activists in Chile and around the world. Six lawmakers abstained.
The report proposes the Health Ministry issue a resolution against puberty blockers, cross-hormonalization, and other hormonal treatments for minors, regardless of whether they have been diagnosed with gender dysphoria. The report also suggests Chilean educational institutions should not respect trans students’ chosen names.
The report, among other recommendations, calls for a review of the background of all minors who are currently receiving hormone treatments. The report also calls for the reformulation of hormone therapy guidelines and sending this background information to the comptroller general.
Report ‘sets an ominous precedent’
Frente Amplio Congresswoman Emilia Schneider, the first trans woman elected to the Chilean Congress and a member of the commission, sharply criticized her colleagues who voted for the report.
“Today in the Chamber of Deputies the report of hatred against trans people was approved; a report that seeks to roll back programs so relevant for children, for youth, such as the Gender Identity Support Program; a program that, in addition, comes from the government of (the late-President) Sebastián Piñera,” Schneider told the Washington Blade. ”This is unacceptable because the right-wing yields to the pressures of the ultra-right and leaves the trans community in a very complex position.”
Schneider noted “this report is not binding; that is, its recommendations do not necessarily have to be taken into account, but it sets an ominous precedent.”
“We are going backwards on such basic issues as the recognition of the social name of trans students in educational establishments,” she said.
Ignacia Oyarzún, president of Organizing Trans Diversities, a Chilean trans rights group, echoed Schneider’s criticisms. commented to the Blade.
“We regret today’s shameful action in the Chamber of Deputies, where the CEI-57 report issued by the Republican Party was approved in a context of lies, misinformation and misrepresentation of reality,” Oyarzún told the Blade. “This only promotes the regression of public policies and conquered rights that have managed to save the lives of thousands of children in the last time.”
Oyarzún added the “slogan ‘children first’ proves to be an empty phrase without content used by those who today promote measures that push to suicide a significant number of children for the fact of being trans.”
The Movement for Homosexual Integration and Liberation, a Chilean LGBTQ rights group known by the acronym Movilh also condemned the approval of the report, calling it “transphobic” and accusing the commission of omitting the opinions of organizations and families that support the current policies.
Movilh notes lawmakers approved both the Gender Identity Law and Circular 812, which promotes respect for trans students’ rights, within the framework of an agreement with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights.
“The text of the approved report is scandalous, because it seeks to take away the access to health to trans minors, including denying them the psychosocial accompaniment that also includes their respective families,” said María José Cumplido, executive director of Fundación Iguales, another Chilean LGBTQ advocacy group. “Likewise, it attempts against school inclusion, since it intends to eliminate something as essential as the use of the social name in educational spaces. In short, it takes away rights and freedoms to trans people, especially to minors.”
Cumplido, like Schneider, pointed out that “although its content is not binding, we will be alert to the political and legislative consequences that it may produce and we will continue working to avoid setbacks with respect to the rights of trans people.”
The report’s approval reflects a global trend that has seen neighboring Argentina, the U.S., and other countries reserve policies for trans and nonbinary young people. The Peruvian Health Ministry recently classified gender identity as a mental illness, and lawmakers have passed a law that prevents trans people from using public restrooms based on their identity.
photo by Michael K. Lavers)
Experts and human rights activists warn the suspension of Chile’s Gender Identity Support Program and other programs could adversely impact the mental health of trans and nonbinary children who already face high levels of discrimination and are at heightened risk to die by suicide.
“We will defend the Gender Identity Support Program and the right to exist of trans children and youth across the country,” said Schneider. “I want to reassure the trans families of our country that we will not rest until our rights are respected and that we can continue advancing because there is still much to be conquered.”
Iran
Underground queer network challenges Iranian regime
Homosexuality remains punishable by death in country
While global powers negotiate with Iran’s regime under Ayatollah Ali Khamenei to curb its advancing nuclear program, the oppressed LGBTQ community is building and operating a secret underground network to resist state-coerced sex reassignment surgeries.
These surgeries, mandated for gay and lesbian people as a state-sanctioned alternative to execution for homosexuality, are part of Iran’s penal code that criminalizes consensual same-sex sexual relations. The network provides safe houses, forged identification documents, and covert communication channels to protect members from government raids and imprisonment.
Precise data on LGBTQ people prosecuted in Iran for resisting state-coerced sex reassignment surgeries over the past decade remains elusive, as the regime’s opaque judicial system obscures such cases under vague charges like “corruption on earth” or “sodomy.” NGOs, including 6Rang, report that thousands of gay and lesbian Iranians face pressure to undergo surgeries to avoid execution for same-sex conduct, with resistance often leading to arrests or harassment for violating gender norms.
Zahra Seddiqi Hamedani and Elham Choubdar, two prominent activists, in 2022 were sentenced to death for their social media advocacy, charged with “corruption” and “human trafficking,” though their convictions were overturned in 2023. Similarly, Rezvaneh Mohammadi in 2019 received a five-year sentence for promoting “homosexual relations,” a charge hinting at resistance to the regime’s heteronormative mandates.
Arsham Parsi in 2003 escalated his clandestine fight for Iran’s LGBTQ community by launching Voice Celebration, a secret Yahoo chat group where 50 queer Iranians, using aliases, exchanged coded messages to evade the regime’s surveillance. Operating like operatives in a shadow network, participants shared text messages about human rights and survival tactics, knowing a single breach could lead to torture or execution. Parsi, then 23, orchestrated the group’s encrypted communications, building a virtual lifeline that connected isolated individuals across the country until his cover was nearly blown, forcing a desperate escape in early 2005.
Parsi in an exchange with the Washington Blade revealed a defiant undercurrent in Iran, a movement too elusive to be called traditional resistance yet pulsing with covert rebellion against the regime.
The state’s relentless push to force gay men into coerced surgeries — marketed as a “solution” to their sexuality — seeks to erase their identities through enforced conformity. Parsi, steering the International Railroad for Queer Refugees, disclosed how queer Iranians fight back with clandestine measures: Underground education to counter state propaganda, discreet psychological support to fortify resilience, and encrypted networks to forge secret alliances. These efforts, veiled to evade regime detection, dismantle the state’s narrative with every hidden signal and guarded connection.
“We are working to create a true grassroots resistance by empowering people to understand their identity, seek safe alternatives, and reclaim their agency despite the oppressive context,” said Parsi. “The Iranian regime’s policies are built on denial of sexual orientation and a forced alignment with a binary gender model.”
“Rather than recognizing gay, lesbian, or bisexual individuals, the system pressures them — particularly gay men — to undergo irreversible surgeries in order to be legally tolerated,” he added. “This systemic violence creates deep psychological harm and compels many to resist, even quietly, to protect their truth. The lack of legal recognition and the threat of arrest, harassment, or blackmail fuels the underground defiance we see today. It’s not only resistance for survival — it’s a rejection of state-imposed identity suppression.”
IRQR, guided by Parsi, for nearly two decades has operated as a lifeline, orchestrating daring escapes and running a covert network for Iran’s hunted queer community.
Parsi said his work relies on secret, encrypted channels — meticulously managed to avoid detection — to funnel at-risk individuals to safety, smuggle life-saving information, secure hidden safe houses, and deliver emotional support. Every operation faces threats not only from the regime’s security forces but also from Basij militia operatives who masquerade as queer individuals to infiltrate networks, heightening the peril for those marked by their identities.
Black-clad Basij militia members respond at the first signs of defiance; tearing through crowds on motorcycles with batons and guns at the ready, poised to crush any challenge to Iran’s regime. These paramilitary volunteers, bound by fierce loyalty to the Islamic Republic, serve as the state’s enforcers, their plainclothes operatives slipping into dissident networks to root out the defiant.
The Basij fill queer Iranians with dread; their so-called morality patrols and digital traps stalking those who dare to exist outside the regime’s rigid norms.
“Their goal is not only to gather intelligence but to undermine, divide, and cancel the work of activists and organizations like ours,” said Parsi. “This divide-and-conquer strategy is designed to break solidarity and generate mistrust.”
“We have seen numerous cases where trusted circles were compromised by these informants, and it has made our work — and survival — even more complex,” he further noted. “Despite this, we persist. Through our underground connections, we have helped thousands of queer Iranians seek safety, community, and ultimately, freedom.”
Parsi told the Blade that international support — through funding, advocacy, policy pressure, or amplifying his stories — can significantly strengthen his work to protect Iran’s persecuted queer community. He emphasized IRQR operates with limited resources, making global solidarity essential to improve outreach, enhance safety measures, and respond swiftly to those in need. Parsi underscored such support brings visibility to the crisis in Iran, reminding those at risk they are not forgotten while exerting pressure on a regime that thrives on silence and fear.
One of the things that Parsi’s underground network offers is online workshops that educate queer Iranians about how they can remain beyond the regime’s reach.
He said these sessions, designed for safety and accessibility, encompass peer support, mental health education, digital security training, and guidance on refugee pathways. Parsi explained the workshops give vulnerable Iranians the tools to navigate persecution, defy state surveillance, and pursue escape, exposing the resilience of a community under relentless scrutiny.
“Due to the high risk of persecution in Iran, traditional protests are not feasible,” said Parsi. “Instead, acts of resistance take quieter forms — like anonymous storytelling which are just as powerful in building awareness and connection within the community. While discreet, these activities help create a sense of solidarity and empowerment among queer Iranians.”
Parsi, undeterred by Iran’s unyielding regime, asserted with measured confidence that while underground acts of defiance — living authentically, supporting one another, resisting forced medicalisation — may not shift policy overnight, they are already improving lives. He stressed these quiet rebellions that queer Iranians stage challenge the regime’s narrative of shame and invisibility, forging a resilient foundation for future change. Each act, Parsi emphasized, dismantles the regime’s grip, offering hope to those navigating a landscape of relentless oppression.
“At IRQR, we view each life saved, each network built, and each truth spoken as a small but powerful act of resistance,” said Parsi. “These are the seeds of future liberation. Over time, as they multiply and gain visibility — locally and internationally — they will help reshape the landscape for queer Iranians.”
ILGA Asia Executive Director Henry Koh said queer Iranians’ underground resistance is a powerful assertion of bodily autonomy and self-determination. He described it as a deeply courageous act in a regime where visibility invites immense personal risk, from arrest to execution.
When asked by the Blade if the Iranian regime’s punitive measures against openly queer people fuel underground resistance, Koh responded unequivocally.
“Absolutely,” he said. “The climate of criminalization and repression leaves little safe space for queer people to live openly. This forces many into secrecy or underground networks as a means of survival, resistance, and mutual support. Such conditions are not only unjust but also profoundly harmful to the well-being of LGBTIQ+ individuals.”
“It is important to distinguish between affirming gender-affirming care and any form of coercive medical intervention,” he added. “When states or authorities mandate medical procedures as a condition for recognition or safety, it constitutes a grave violation of human rights. Gender identity is deeply personal, and no institution should override an individual’s self-defined identity.”
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