Japan
— To most Japanese, Takafumi Fujio -- with
cropped hair, thick arms and deep voice -- is a typical,
middle-aged salaryman. But until four years ago, when the
food company worker started on a range of hormonal
treatments, he was a woman, a housewife and mother of
two.
Fujio is one of an
estimated 7,000 to 10,000 Japanese who believe they were
born the wrong sex, a sexual minority that has been
largely hidden from view in Japan.
But that is quickly
changing.
Japan's first sex-change
operation was performed in 1998, and its first
transsexual and gay politicians were elected to public
office in 2003. A groundbreaking legal reform allowing
some transsexuals to change their officially registered
sex took effect the following year.
The advances -- the
result of long years of work behind the scenes -- have
given Japan's sexual minorities rising self-confidence
and a greater willingness to come out of the closet
despite the country's long-prized conformity and disdain
for displays of individuality.
"These changes have been
way overdue," Fujio said at a recent interview in Tokyo.
"I think the law got people thinking, 'If the country has
recognized these people, they must be acceptable after
all."'
Greater visibility and
legal change are part of a general trend in Japan toward
more personal freedom.
Technology and tradition
have also played a role. The Internet has spread
information about alternative lifestyles to people who in
previous generations would have been isolated. Meanwhile,
Japan's lack of deeply rooted moral or religious censure
of sexual minorities has made the transition
easier.
The rising visibility is
a sharp turnaround for those like Fujio, who grew up in
an era in postwar Japan where talk of transsexual
lifestyles was rare.
"The transsexual
community had a great dilemma. If we spoke out, we risked
our jobs, our livelihoods. But by staying silent, nothing
would change," said Aya Kamikawa, Japan's first and only
transsexual politician.
Since 2003, Kamikawa -- a
woman who used to be a man -- has played a key role in
lobbying for changes at both the national and local
levels, including the sex-change law. She has also
successfully lobbied to eliminate unnecessary mentions of
gender in public documents.
Still, obstacles to full
acceptance remain.
Under the 2004 law, for
instance, only unmarried, childless applicants can change
their official gender. Applicants also must have had a
sex-change operation and been diagnosed by two doctors as
having so-called gender-identity disorder.
A mere 151 people in
Japan officially changed their sex between July 2004,
when the law went into force, and the end of March 2005,
according to the Justice Ministry. Fujio himself isn't
eligible to change his official sex because he has
children.
The stigma of
transsexuality is also still high in Japan. Transsexuals
say they are reluctant to seek work or even go to the
dentist for fear their original gender will be revealed
by documents such as health insurance cards.
Moreover, transsexuals
experience even more restrictions because some of them
are also gay or lesbian. Same-sex marriages are forbidden
in Japan, hospital visits by gay partners can be blocked
and it's impossible for homosexual couples to jointly
purchase a home or for a survivor to inherit the assets
of a gay partner.
"We have no legal
protection or assurances whatsoever, and that brings many
worries," said Aki Nomiya, who was born male but now
lives as a woman with a female partner, though she has
not had a full sex-change operation.
Japan first needs to
allow for a partnership system like that of France, whose
1999 Civil Solidarity Pact gives some legal rights to
unmarried couples, Nomiya says.
But officials say Japan
isn't yet ready for such changes.
"This is a very
complicated and divisive problem that needs to be treated
with caution" said Kunio Koide, councilor of the Civil
Affairs Bureau of the Justice Ministry. "I don't see
widespread support for reforms at the moment."
Still, Japan's sexual
minorities as whole have claimed some
victories.
Kanako Otsuji, Japan's
first openly gay politician, successfully lobbied for a
change in local regulations to allow non-married couples
to apply for public housing -- including gays and
transsexuals.
"My
generation has been the first to speak out about sexual
minority rights in any meaningful way," Otsuji, 31, said
in Osaka prefecture, where she has held an assembly seat
since 2003.
In the meantime, Japan's
transsexuals are enjoying their increasing freedom --
while chafing against the enduring
restrictions.
As a young woman, Fujio
says he suppressed his desire to live as a man and
married a male co-worker "mainly out of feelings of
obligation," giving birth to two girls.
Nine years later in 2002,
Fujio made the decision to divorce and live as a
man.
The move, however, has
had painful consequences. His ex-husband's family has
allowed him to see his children only once since the
divorce four years ago.
"Of course it's tough. We
have to first get the public to think, `It's OK to live
that way of life,"' he said. "Then, maybe I'll get to see
my kids -- maybe in 10 years." (AP)
