When a female classmate approached Binghong Lee in his seventh grade class, he tried politely ignoring her. The girl wasn’t a stranger. In fact, Binghong, then 13, and the girl spent significant time together on the weekends.
He never developed emotions for her, and considered her a close friend. However, when she leaned in for a kiss, Binghong immediately retracted and exited the classroom.
“It didn’t feel right,” Binghong says.
He was appalled that a girl in his secondary school, equivalent to middle school in America, had a small crush on him. Binghong had past thoughts of being gay, but retracted himself because of cultural Chinese standards.
“I’m not sure how to describe it, but my stomach didn’t feel comfortable,” Binghong says. “It wasn’t just her. I tried dating a few other girls in my school before her, but I didn’t share a similar excitement and passion as they did towards me.”
Binghong cites this particular incident as when he decided to take a leap of faith. He came out as gay to his friends.
Despite dating a man he met online for a few months, Binghong never speaks of his sexuality with his parents, because it’s not the right time. He only trusts his friends with the sensitive information.
Besides Binghong, there’s a growing Taiwan LGBTQ population resulting in the island-nation being regarded for its’ liberal values. While there are no official government statistics, LGBT Capital, a specialist consulting firm assisting the LGBTQ consumer division, estimates there are roughly 1.5 million gay individuals out of the 24 million people in Taiwan.
Taiwanese remain nearly split on public support of same-sex marriage with only 43.3 percent opposing it, according to a poll conducted by the Kuomintang political party. The Kuomintang, ruled most of mainland China between 1928 to 1949, then fled to Taiwan to establish itself as a government.
The support for LGBTQ people stems predominantly from Taiwanese millennials. Support is as high as 80 percent, according to studies conducted by the Taiwan LGBT Family Rights Advocacy group, among 20-year- old Taiwanese. Advocacy groups credit the Gender Equity Education Act, which passed in 2004, as the core apparatus in gaining the younger generation’s support. The law promotes gender equality and forbids gender discrimination in the classroom. A clause within the legislation requires teachers to promote gender equality and educate students to not ostracize nor chastise individuals because of sexuality.
Despite public support for LGBTQ rights, many older Taiwanese reject LGBTQ communities. Protests, such as those staged in December 2016 in central Taipei, attracted over 30,000 demonstrators opposing same- sex marriage. Attendees had diverse ideological backgrounds, including Christian or religious-affiliated organizations and stringent interpreters of traditional Chinese culture, all of which express their repugnance at LGBTQ activties. Resistance has only amplified since both groups joined forces at rallies.
Historic news broke on May 24, 2017 which altered the political and social landscape of Taiwan and its openness to the LGBTQ community. The Constitutional Court ruled preventing same-sex couples from marriage violates their right to equality; same-sex marriage became legalized.
Although the ruling ranks as a milestone for LGBTQ rights, many within Taiwan’s LGBTQ community assert the decision does not alter society’s perspective of them.
Wayne Lin is an avid volunteer and former Chairperson of the Taiwan Tongzhi Hotline Association, a non-profit organization advocating gender equality and offering resources and assistance to the LGBTQ community. Lin argues that despite public support and the court ruling, there’s a lack of “genuineness” from the general population towards Taiwanese LGBTQ communities, which includes himself.
“I think for some people,” Lin says. “Their reaction to LGBT is ‘they can live their own life, do whatever they want, as long as you don’t bother me.”
This perception, he adds, contributes to Taiwan’s global image in the world. At the moment, only 23 countries have formal diplomatic relations with Taiwan.
“Taiwan isn’t part of the United Nations,” Lin says. “So we’re limited in the international community. The ruling, in part, was a perfect opportunity to showcase Taiwan and the advances we made on human rights issues.”
On the flip side, protests sparked throughout Taiwan in opposition to the court’s decision. In June 2017, at the Legislative Yuan, the island- nation’s version of parliament, demonstrators gathered to protest the Constitutional Court’s marriage equality ruling.
The procedure wasn’t fair at all,” Delphine Wong, a participant at the rally, says. “Some of the judges who were on the panel for the court ruling were appointed by the president, [Tsai Ing-Wen].”
She argues Tsai’s “selfish” scheme of having the court make the decision, instead of holding a referendum is unfair. Wong is one of the many individuals with connections to religious and conservative organizations which share similar sentiments to hers.
“I believe marriage is a special moment only shared between those of opposite sex,” Wong says. “In this way, they can have kids. For same-sex couples, they would adopt or request a surrogate, which for me is immoral.”
The court’s ruling comes at a time when LGBT communities in other Asian countries endure mistreatment and assault. In the past, accounts of abuse to gay people in Indonesia, Singapore and China shocked LGBTQ communities all across Asia. In South Korea, for instance, the military opened an investigation of gay officers and soldiers within the army.
Vietnam technically legalized same-sex marriage in 2015. However, the government doesn’t recognize same-sex unions and neglects to offer equal marriage rights. So, Vietnam’s approach of legalization suggests a recognition of same-sex couples, and their activities, which before 2015 were imposed to fines. In Taiwan’s case, reforming the Civil Code will grant same-sex couples marriage licenses and recognize same-sex unions.
“They [The Constitutional Court] will give legislature two years to amend the Civil Code,” Dr. Wen-Chen Chang, a professor of law at National Taiwan University, says. She’s one of six Amicus Curiae, the impartial advisors who advised the panel of 14 justices on the same-sex marriage case.
If Legislature does not reach a decision in two years, then same-sex couples “have the right to register for marriage license,” Chang adds. For her and other Amicus Curiae, a day where gay people were granted equal marriage rights was unimaginable before the decision.
“The day after [the court’s decision], I was with students in one of my classes and told them how I never thought same-sex marriage would be legalized in my lifetime,” Chang says. “Having lived through martial law in Taiwan, then the 30 years of democratization, it’s unbelievable.”
Chang regards the same-sex marriage ruling as her contribution to the “democratization” process of Taiwan and serves as a platform for younger Taiwanese to continue building on.
“We made a democratic transformation,” Chang says. “I never thought a day like this would come.”
As of today, Binghong still hides his true colors when it comes to sexuality. In fact, a few weeks after turning down the girl, he started secretly dating a man at his school. He was Binghong’s “Xuedi”, Mandarin for “younger school brother,” except the two share no familial ties.
His boyfriend didn’t want his parents or siblings to discover their relationship. As a couple, they would keep out of public eye and occasionally met for lunch or dinner. Other than that, their relationship remained under wraps until Binghong broke it off.
His ex-boyfriend wasn’t “supportive” and as “open-minded” as he needed him to be, Binghong says. A combination of school and Buxiban (an after-school program to learn English), assignments already put too much pressure on Binghong’s shoulders, and the breakup only exacerbated his stress.
He quit attending school after finishing what would be equivalent to his sophomore year of high school. Binghong’s parents expressed frustration regarding his jarring decision, but he immediately got a full-time job at a Chinese hot pot restaurant to occupy his time moving forward.
“My parents continue asking to this day ‘what made you quit besides class?’” Binghong says. “But I’m hesitant on telling my parents about them [past boyfriends]. Now is not the right time. I’m single, and when I’m prepared on telling them, I want to introduce the right guy to them.”
