When Ashwini (name changed) moved from Tirunelveli to Chennai in 2015, armed with an MBA degree and an appointment at a leading IT firm’s BPO, she had no intention of quitting within six months. But she left her first job, and then another, till she couldn’t take the harassment any more.
“I was a thing of entertainment for them; they would gather around me at lunch and make me cry,” says the transwoman, who couldn’t find a single friend at the workplace, or even anyone who would just treat her like a colleague. So she left Chennai and joined the trans community in Tamil Nadu. Here, she found dignity, but at a cost.
“I was begging, and I didn’t want to. Why should I, when I am educated?” she demands, recounting how the turn of events and the constant harassment in the IT corridors of the State capital pushed her towards depression. Her family became worried for her, and she eventually had to return home.
“But we are a middle-class family. I had to start earning again,” she says as an explanation for her decision to return to Chennai. It was during her second stint in the city that she came across the NGO Cheer. The NGO — founded by Aswin Kumar and Vimala Rani — scouted around, and found Ashwini a job with Sakhi, another NGO working for the trans community in the city.
Here, it was her job to find employment for other members of her community. Life had come full circle.
Two weeks ago, Ashwini found a better job at a private firm, and was ready to climb up the ladder. The Cheer team visited her new workplace ahead of her, to sensitise the employees there, and now Ashwini can finally say that she is at a job she likes.
Employment is just one aspect of Cheer’s work. They have two broad projects: rural learning centres, and what Rani describes as “social and economic rehabilitation of transgenders from sex work and begging”.
The term ‘rehabilitation’ is key, as merely finding a job for a member of the community often changes nothing.
“When a transperson comes to Chennai, they are often young, and more often than not have run away from home,” states Kumar, “In a situation like that, they seek a community that will not harass them, that will understand what they are going through. So they come across other transgenders and are invariably drawn into begging or sex work.”
“They are hesitant to let go of that work, and sometimes continue with it at night, even after getting a formal job. This makes retaining jobs even more difficult; it’s a vicious cycle,” explains Rani.
Finding work is not the only challenge; members of the community struggle to find a roof over their heads as well. While Ashwini has finally put up at an accommodating women’s hostel she heard of through the NGO, there are transgender homes that Cheer also runs, to house people. Sundari (name changed) is one of their residents.
Sundari has been running a popcorn and cotton candy stall outside a city school, after having been trained by Cheer. Though it took her a couple of days to break the ice, some mothers who come to pick up their children are friendly with her and business is doing well. But this happiness has been a long time coming.
“When I completed my diploma in IT, I was a boy. Then at my workplace, I was harassed so much that I left. I started working as a maid for a household, but they abused me horribly and didn’t pay. So one day, when I heard about this skill development workshop by Cheer, I just walked in,” she says.
Sundari is battling health complications as well, but refuses to be admitted to hospital. “You need family to stay with you at hospital, and I have no one,” she says, adding, “At this home, at least I’m around people who care.”