Narratives of transphobic violence in the Mexican province of Colima: A psychosocial analysis

Abstract

Background

Mexico has the second-highest index of crimes motivated by transphobia in the world. Transphobic violence manifests in a pervasive and complex manner in a country where violence permeates all aspects of social life. Some progress has been made to improve transgender rights and fight discrimination, but this has had an unequal impact in different geopolitical and cultural contexts within the country, particularly outside of metropolitan centers.

Aim

The study explores how transphobia is experienced in the conservative province of Colima and how transphobic practices play a part in shaping transgender subjective experience and identity construction. A psychosocial theoretical framework is adopted to attend to the relationship between cultural, institutional and interpersonal practices in this process.

Methods

A qualitative approach is used to explore how different forms of transphobic violence are experienced by trans women in Colima. A purposive sample of 12 trans women, aged 22-38 years took part in narrative interviews which were analyzed thematically. Findings: The analysis is organized into three themes: (a) narratives of gender identity construction (b) gender expression and experiences of transphobic violence in Colima (c) sites for social support and change.

Discussion

We argue that the psychosocial processes related to transphobia are context-specific shaping transgender identities and limiting and regulating gender expression. Family, education, LGBT community and the police were identified as key sites for support against or source of transphobic violence.

Conclusion

Despite the challenging socio-political context interventions are needed in policy and institutional practices to tackle stigma, transphobia and, trans-misogyny and improve the lives of transgender people living in regional areas in the global south.

Introduction

Transgender, or ‘trans’, is an umbrella term often used to describe “persons whose gender identity, gender expression, or behavior does not conform to that typically associated with the sex to which they were assigned at birth” (American Psychological Association, 2011). This term contrasts with the term ‘cis-gender’ or ‘cis’ which refers to “individuals who have a match between the gender they were assigned at birth, their bodies, and their personal identity” (Schilt & Westbrook, 2009). In Latin America, the term ‘transgender’ is used in a wide variety of manners both by scholars and by the transgender community itself, incorporating multiple, blurred and dynamic gender identifications and expressions (Campuzano, 2009; Escobar, 2013; Lancaster, 1998). Transphobia is defined as “negative attitudes (hate, contempt, disapproval) directed toward trans people because of their being trans” (Bettcher, 2014). When defined by its etymological roots, the term can make reference to a form of fear or personal aversion toward trans identified individuals. The American Counseling Association (2010) extend this by pointing to the underlying motivational processes, where transphobia is “the irrational fear and hatred of all those individuals who transgress, violate, or blur the dominant gender categories in a given society, which may be experienced by transgender individuals in different ways from microaggressions to violence”. Although this conception of transphobia is useful as it identifies negative behaviors and attitudes, it has also been regarded as insufficient. It overly focuses on identifying internal factors and individual dispositions of transphobic actors, failing to sufficiently acknowledge the deep-rooted symbolic assumptions about gender norms and the pervasive cultural system of prejudice that motivate and maintain interpersonal forms of violence and discrimination (Craig, 2007; Lennon & Mistler, 2014; Platero, 2014). Transphobia should be understood as a complex system that includes underlying social practices, symbolic structures and material/institutional arrangements that are entwined with attitudes and hostile behaviors toward gender transgression (Bettcher, 2014). Furthermore, this phenomenon exists is supported by prevalent norms about gender and sexuality, including culturally rooted sexism and denigration against women and other individuals whose gender identity and expression are deemed feminine (i.e., misogyny). Thus, transphobic attitudes and behaviors are found to be particularly acute when targeted at transgender women (transmisogyny), within a cultural system, such as the Mexican one, that is patriarchal, cis-normative and violent (Frías & Erviti, 2011; Maffia et al., 2003, Malta et al., 2019; Wilson, 2003).

During the last decade, generalized social violence in Mexico has increased in a dramatic manner. The complex landscape of intensified violence is related to the proliferation of organized crime and the so-called ‘drug war’ that has resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths and thousands of disappearances (Amnesty International, 2018). This extended violence has permeated all aspects of social life and had a significant impact on the way gender-based violence is exercised and expressed. Here, there has been a dramatic increase in frequency and expressive cruelty of femicides and hate-crimes toward LGBT people and, particularly, toward trans women (Valencia & Zhuravleva, 2019).

The state of Colima represents one of the most acute examples of an alarming escalation of violence in the country, both of general violence and of gender-based violence. Colima is the third smallest state of Mexico and has recently gone from being considered a calm, pacific province to being regarded as one of the most violent regions of the Americas (Ahmed, 2017). Likewise, according to the National System for Public Security (SESNSP, for its Spanish acronym), during the last five years Colima has remained in the first 6 places in the rate of femicides nationwide. Although there are no official or unofficial sociodemographic figures of violence against the LGBT population in the province (an absence which is itself a form of symbolic violence), different testimonies have repeatedly pointed to the persistence of discriminatory practices and forms of direct violence such as hate crimes, particularly toward the transgender population (Martínez-Guzmán & Íñiguez-Rueda, 2017; Martínez-Guzmán & Pérez-Contreras, 2018; Rosas, 2016).

Violence against transgender people is monitored internationally and, according to Transgender Europe (2019), Mexico has the second-highest index of crimes motivated by transphobia. Referring to the Transgender Murder Monitoring project, Berredo et al. (2018) note 408 murders of transgender people in Mexico between 2008 and 2018 making it the second deadliest country in the world for the trans community only after Brazil. It is likely that these figures do not accurately represent the actual number of hate crimes because, as has been noted (Transgender Law Center, 2016), they are often not recorded as such by the official authorities and/or remain under-reported. Reports on the human rights conditions of the trans community, and LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and trans) people more generally, have outlined the multiple and complex manner through which transphobia operates. These include failing to prevent, appropriately investigate and prosecute hate crimes; transphobic bullying in schools and workplaces; family rejection; limited anti-discrimination laws; lack of adequate healthcare; economic marginalization and police violence (Letra, 2014; Transgender Law Center, 2016). As these reports show, it is trans women who suffer the most discrimination and violence in this context.

There is substantial evidence recognized in ‘minority stress’ models (e.g., Davies & Kessel, 2017; Hendricks & Testa, 2012) that discriminatory practices have a profound impact on trans people’s mental health and wellbeing (e.g., American Psychological Association, 2011; Bazargan & Galvan, 2012; Berredo et al., 2018; Bradford et al., 2013). In recent years, some progress has been made regarding transgender rights and the fight against discrimination in Mexico. Steps taken include amendments to the constitution and the enactment of federal legislation to combat discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity (Carrillo, 2008; CONAPRED, 2003; López, 2016). A few provinces, including Colima, have also made some legal amendments in order to issue gender-conforming identity documents, However, it is mostly in Mexico City where these advances have materialized, for example, through mechanisms for delivering trans-specialized medical support services and for translating legal reforms into effective administrative processes (Martínez-Guzmán & Pérez-Contreras, 2018). However, transphobic discrimination and violence remains particularly acute in provinces further away from the major urban centers where LGBT activism and community organization is less well articulated (Martínez-Guzmán & Pérez-Contreras, 2018). Colima, the site of our research, is an example of a Mexican province characterized by a conservative culture regarding sex and gender diversity (Pérez, 2003), as well as by limited measures to prevent discrimination and guarantee the rights and psychosocial well-being of trans people.

Transgender, transphobia and the psychosocial context

Most psychological knowledge about trans lives and experiences has been developed in North American and European contexts where psychological research has been particularly interested in diagnosis and treatment of mental health issues related to gender transition and gender diversity (e.g., Bockting et al., 2013; Dhejne et al., 2016; Glynn et al., 2016). Evidence suggests that the adverse mental health conditions of transgender communities are the direct consequence of gender-specific social oppression (Hendricks & Testa, 2012; Nuttbrock et al., 2013). Studies emphasizing the role of gender norm transgression in the experience of violence (e.g., Burdge, 2007; Diamond et al., 2011; Hines, 2007; Pfeffer, 2014). Those interested in exploring trans subjectivities, point to the importance of social recognition of transgender identity and embodiment for psychosocial well-being (Johnson, 2007) and the impact of experiences of violence and discrimination on the very process of identity construction and subjectivity for trans people (Glynn et al., 2016). However, there is little understanding of these psychosocial processes in the Mexican context, especially beyond the main metropolis.

Social discrimination is a key driver in poor health outcomes for transgender people globally (Lo & Horton, 2016), particularly in low and middle-income contexts. Research with the Mexican transgender population shows high consumption of legal and illegal drugs, and more engagement in risky sexual practices (Nemoto et al., 2004). High rates of depression and suicide attempts in Latin American trans population have also been identified (Bazargan & Galvan, 2012; Clements-Nolle et al., 2006; Haas et al., 2014). It has been documented that many transgender woman are forced to engage in sex work because of financial needs and lack of economic opportunities due to bias and discrimination directly related to gender identity and expression (Hwahng & Nuttbrock, 2007; Toro-Alfonso, Ortiz & Lugo, 2012), thereby exposing them to a heightened risk of violence and murder. It has also been evidenced that many Mexican LGBT people are forced to migrate to the United States and other countries in search for protection from violence and to access health services, including mental health care (Cerezo et al., 2014).

In this paper we argue that a psychosocial approach is a useful framework for theorizing how cultural and institutional factors shape transgender experiences in their local contexts. This approach attempts to avoid explaining trans experiences via either psychological or sociological accounts that can lead to polarized assumptions. Instead it explores subjective experiences as inseparable from the social conditions in which they emerge and gain meaning (Johnson, 2015). This might include attention to gender identity and expression, mental health conditions and the psychosocial conditions typical of the geopolitical context, such as precarity, violence or misogyny. Reisner et al. (2016a) also notes that multiple determinants affect transgender health, including biological, behavioral, social, legal, and structural factors associated with health risks and living conditions in general and the relevance of regional contexts. However, a strength of the psychosocial approach is that it focuses on understanding how shared elements of transgender experiences become entwined in the social life of specific cultural and geographical contexts, where psychosocial intersections create unique subjectivities for trans individuals that are shaped by, but not reducible to, individual or social factors.

Aims

This study explores how transphobia is experienced in the Mexican province of Colima. This is relevant in a country with great cultural diversity, where disparity in experiences for those living away from the capital is often under-recognized. This paper also highlights the way in which transphobic practices play a part in shaping subjective experiences and identity construction among transgender people. A psychosocial approach is adopted to attend to the relationship between interpersonal, institutional and cultural practices in this process.

Method

Type of study

This is an explorative study aimed at understanding experiences of transphobia from participants’ perspectives. A qualitative approach permits in-depth exploration of experiences and the meanings ascribed to them (Camic et al., 2003). This perspective is committed to understanding social phenomena from the subject’s own standpoint and examining how their social world is experienced (Taylor et al., 2015). Within the scope of qualitative methodologies, this study adopted a narrative approach and a psychosocial interpretative framework.

Narrative research in psychology is useful for the study of identity and subjectivity as it emphasizes the way in which the subject unfolds their understanding of self and the world around her in a space-time framework (Brockmeier & Carbaugh, 2001; László; 2008; Sarbin, 1986; Somers, 1994). A psychosocial theoretical framework pays attention to the interplay of socio-cultural and individual dimensions in a way that resists their polarization (Johnson, 2015). Participants’ develop plots where events, scenarios, social actors, and assessments considered relevant, are connected in a meaningful manner to account for self-identification and experience. According to Bruner (1991; 2009), identity is best understood within these significant relations as immersed in a specific context and developed in a temporal framework. While individuals use the symbolic resources and structures available in their culture to tell their particular stories, examining their narratives allows exploring both subjective constructions and cultural values and assumptions, mediated by the subject’s agency and negotiation (Gergen, 2007; Riessman, 2008).

Participants and recruitment

A purposive sample of 12 trans women from Colima city took part in the study. In qualitative and narrative research, the size of the sample is considered less relevant and greater importance is given to the demographic profile of participants (see table 1) and to the in-depth exploration of their experiences and trajectories (Creswell, 2012). Purposive sampling was oriented by socio-demographic criteria including economic status (middle and lower income) and occupation (informal or economically precarious). These criteria were considered important as they define the most visible segment of trans women in the region as well as the most vulnerable group. The inclusion criteria for the study were individuals who were 18 years of age or older, who identified as transgender women with permanent residence in the state of Colima.

Table 1.

Demographic summary information about research participants.

n	Pseudonym	Age	Occupation	Sexual orientation
1	Yuli	22	Employed as drugstore attendant	Heterosexual
2	J	27	Informal work as food seller	Heterosexual
3	Samantha	24	Sex worker	Bisexual
4	Rebeca	33	Sex worker	Heterosexual
5	Shally	23	Self-employed (not specified)	Heterosexual
6	Ambar	28	Employed in kitchen restaurant	Heterosexual
7	Gaby	35	Self-employed as hair dresser	Heterosexual
8	Camila	29	Informal work as cosmetic seller	Bisexual
9	Wendy	32	Informal work as food seller	Heterosexual
10	Michelle	38	Self-employed (not specified)	Not specified
11	Alejandra	30	Sex worker	Heterosexual
12	Lorena	26	Employed in grocery store	Not specified

The age of participants ranged from 22 to 38 years old. With respect to sexual orientation, eight women identified as heterosexual, two as bisexual and two did not specify their sexual orientation. Regarding occupation, some were employed or self-employed in the service industry (n = 6) and others were unemployed or engaged in informal work including sex work (n = 6). At the time of being interviewed, 5 participants were studying or completed a university degree and 7 reported having dropped out of high school or university.

Recruitment was challenging as the transgender community in Colima remains a hard-to-reach population and access is difficult due to the often peripheral and marginal social spaces that transgender women frequent, coupled with a lack of social visibility due to the conditions of oppression and harassment they face. When the study began there were no organizations or institutions formally working with transgender people and no demographic information about them in the state of Colima. Public places frequented by LGBT people (e.g., clubs, bars, sex work spots) were visited by the research team in order to establish initial contacts. The first participants that agreed to take part in the study helped recruit other participants via snowballing, a sampling method useful for producing emergent and interactional knowledge in qualitative inquiries, as well as to successfully investigate organic social networks and dynamics (Noy, 2008). It is important to note that some transgender women were reluctant to participate fearing increased social visibility or identity disclosure (five people declined participation).

Verbal explanations of the research objectives and procedures were offered to each participant and they were asked to sign a written informed consent form to formalize their participation in the project. Informed consent offered anonymity and the opportunity to withdraw from participation in the study if required.

Data Collection

Narrative interviewing is a qualitative technique of data elicitation where participants use a storied form to account for a significant event in their life and the social context that surrounds it (Crossley, 2003; Holstein & Gubrium, 2011; László, 2008). Although the researcher raises specific conversation themes, the technique seeks to recognize and preserve the ‘story schema’ or ‘narrative convention’ inherent in the participant’s response (Jovchelovitch & Bauer, 2000; Riessman, 2008). To address the research objectives a semi-structured narrative interview script was developed covering the following topics: a) identity and self-identification; b) gender transition trajectories and experiences; c) relevant social actors implicated in identity trajectories; d) education and work trajectories and experiences; e) forms of violence and discrimination identified and suffered.

The interviews were conducted in a flexible way and participants were invited to introduce and discuss any other topics considered relevant to their identity trajectory and non-conforming gender experience. The first part of the interview consisted of some basic demographic questions including age, sexual orientation, occupation and educational level. In order to protect privacy and anonymity, participants were not required to share this information. Most of the interviews were conducted in a university office or the facilities of a community center, according to participants’ preferences. At the request of participants, two were conducted in a café located in a public square, near their workplace (places that were familiar to them or where they felt comfortable to share their gender identity and expression safely). Interviews lasted between 84 and 128 minutes and were audio-recorded with the express authorization of the participants. Participation was voluntary and no payment was offered in exchange. Three researchers (2 cis males and 1 cis female) where involved in conducting, transcribing and coding of interviews. All had academic research interests in sexual and gender diversity and were active participants in pro-feminist and LGBT rights groups and associations in the local community. This helped develop rapport with the participants as a relationship was established in terms of ethical and political alliances.

Data preparation and analysis

Interviews were transcribed verbatim in Spanish. All names were removed and substituted with a pseudonym chosen by the participants. Data was coded and organized in Spanish following the principles of a narrative approach (Riessman, 2008), identifying thematic, functional and structural elements within participants’ narrative accounts. These included the: a) narrative structures of gender identity trajectories; b) events and episodes of transphobic violence; c) significant social actors involved in transphobic violence; d) participants’ agency in negotiating gender expression in order to cope with transphobic practices. Atlas.ti software was used to assist in identification, coding and systematization of narrative episodes and thematic content.

Translation

The interviews were conducted in Spanish and all interviewers and participants were native Spanish-speakers. Epistemological and methodological implications for translation were considered as using different languages can construct different ways of seeing social life. First, there are issues of power and hierarchy among languages, with English the dominant language for academic and scientific publication. Second, as noted by Temple and Young (2004), translation is not neutral and mechanical, rather it involves the active process of interpretation that is “inextricably [also] bound to the socio-cultural positioning of the researcher” (p. 168). Thus, the starting point for translation is to understand the way language “is tied to local realities, to literary forms and to changing identities” (p.165). Rather, than looking closely to the dictionary, they advise that translators must make considered decisions about the cultural meaning that language carries and evaluate the degree to which different language expressions can be equivalent or compatible. In this research project, translation was made while trying to preserve the sense of local, contextual expressions and meanings. The translation was crafted by author 1 (fluent in English and well acquainted with all interviews), and examined and discussed with author 2, a native English speaker and project collaborator, to reflect on their sense and meaning in English.

Reflexivity

The methodological encounter in this project involved a dialogical process where the research was structured by both researchers and participants (Qin, 2016) as an intersubjective construction of the phenomena. Nevertheless, the fact cis-gender researchers conducted the analysis raises questions about reflexivity and demands awareness of the privileged epistemological position of cis researchers with respect to participants. The research team aimed to construct a position defined by a shared ethical and political commitment to gender and sexual justice, and an alliance with trans rights issues. The academic position was mobilized to learn from the embodied experience of participants, who were regarded as protagonists and experts of the problem explored. We acknowledge there is an ontological gap between the situated perspectives and knowledge of the researchers and participants however, following the feminist epistemology of Haraway (1998), we suggest there is the potential for ‘partial connections’ where we do not see for the other, rather with the other, in order to amplify understanding of the complexity of the problem of violence and discrimination against trans people in Colima.

Ethics

Ethical approval was granted by the Committee for Research Ethics of the Faculty of Psychology, University of Colima, Mexico.

Findings and interpretations

For the purpose of this paper the findings are presented within a psychosocial framework and organized into three sections: (a) narratives of gender identity construction (b) gender expression and experiences of transphobic violence in Colima and (c) sites for social support and change. In section (a) the psychosocial framework enables us to demonstrate that narratives of transgender identity construction are contextually shaped but incorporate shared elements of trans subjectivity that are universally recognizable. In section (b) we illustrate the impact of gender violence in the Colima context and demonstrate how it has a profound relationship to participants’ gender expression and how transgender identities can be lived. In section (c) we outline key social sites, actors and networks in the lives of participants and their potential role in improving psychosocial outcomes for trans people by mitigating against some of the limiting impacts of systemic violence.

a) Narratives of gender identity construction

According to Gergen (2007), when individuals assess their own autobiographical and identity narratives they take three basic forms: neutral, positive or negative. These forms can be described as a) stability narrative: linking the events in such a way that the trajectory of the individual essentially remains unchanged in relation to the goal or the result (‘life simply continues, neither better nor worse’); b) progressive narrative: linking the events in such a way that movement along the positive dimension of the evaluation increases over of time (‘it is getting better’); and c) regressive narrative: linking the events in such a way that movement along the positive dimension of the evaluation presents a continuous downward slide (‘it is getting worse’).

Narrative structures identified in this study had a predominantly progressive orientation associated with classic ‘coming out’ narratives. Narrative structures particularly revolved around a ‘success’ or ‘victory’ after the subject overcame numerous adversities and obstacles in order to display and affirm her own gender identity. For example, this structure is observed in the following account:

It was very difficult at the beginning. My father had a hard time dealing with it and was also sick. I had a lot of problems with my family back then. Then I started working and could afford the things for my transition… It has been a constant pushing forward. (Lorena, age 26)

This progressive narrative also highlights the psychosocial processes of negotiating family responses and gaining financial independence in order to transition. A similar progress orientation was made by Gaby (35 years old): “I see my transformation as an accomplishment, what I am is my greatest achievement because it makes me feel happier and free”. This narrative structure constructs a sense of self as a ‘resistant’ or ‘resilient’ subject, whose identity has been shaped to a great extent from the struggle against discrimination and shame in order to affirm their difference.

Taboos from family, friends and society do not allow for you to express who you are. The teasing and the mockery construct a barrier and it makes you feel you are in a prison. It is difficult to start the transition like that. Nobody cares to understand why or how you are different. So, transformation has not been easy… You need to gain experience and learn and grab your own weapons so you become a warrior against all that (Shally, age 23).

These types of self-assessments emphasize individual qualities such as personal strength and perseverance as central to the presentation of a robust self. We argue that while individual characteristics are important the opportunity to live an optimal life as a trans person (i.e., achieving gender expression) is heavily reliant on social acceptance and societal support.

The progressive narrative articulated by these participants in Colima demonstrate an element of ‘universal subjectivity’ through the desire for gender recognition and self-autonomy, a story shared by and recognizable to trans people everywhere. However, their narratives also illustrate distinctions in the use of identity categories such as gay, trans women and transvestite, which are often blurred and dynamic. A participant would refer to herself as ‘(feminine) gay’ in one moment and ‘transgender girl’ in another. In some cases, this variability was told in a chronologically order, a progressive narrative from initially identifying as ‘gay’, then identifying as ‘transvestites’ (someone who dresses as a woman temporarily) and finally as transgender women. However, this movement across gender and sexuality lines did not always follow a linear temporality and was more often driven by the characteristics of the public spaces they inhabited and the demands of relevant social actors and institutional settings:

When I’m living as a woman is when I feel more comfortable. In my everyday life I want to be seen as a woman. But in my workplace I cannot be like that. I work in a pharmacy and they ask me to be there as a boy. They call me [masculine assigned name] there. So, I do that, I don’t have a problem. My boss knows who I am; he has seen me as a woman. But they ask me to have respect for the place where I work. So, I cannot be a woman 24 hours a day (Yuli, 22 years old).

This kind of movement between particular forms of identification (boy, girl, gay, woman, trans) was also displayed by some participants in other contexts, such as family and school, where they adhered to daily strategies to be accepted and to develop intelligible identity positions in the places they inhabited. Their agency as trans women negotiating different forms of gender expression in order to cope with and mitigate against transphobic practices was frequently referred to. Here, we see the psychosocial consequences when trans women do not have the same opportunities to live their gender when entrenched in geopolitical contexts that regulate gender expression through visible and invisible forms of violence.

Multiple gender identifications were also observed in the different names used in their narratives to describe themselves and other trans women. A common name in Colima is ‘las vestidas’ (the dressed ones, in feminine). This is a popular local term used by this community as a way of describing gender identity and expression, in a context where an LGBT vocabulary has only recently been popularized (Escobar, 2013). This points to the importance of acknowledging the availability of symbolic and linguistic resources as well as socio-cultural norms and values for shaping gender identifications and subjective experiences in regional contexts.

b) Gender expression and experiences of transphobic violence in Colima

A key focus of this study is to understand how transphobic violence is experienced by trans women in Colima, including how these practices are displayed and the psychosocial impact of violence on gender expression. Transphobic violence manifests in multiple ways that is best understood by taking account of their interdependence. However, it is possible to organize these practices into three general types or dimensions considered relevant to understanding the main problems trans women face in this context.

(i) Direct violence

Direct violence is the most visible and hostile manifestation of transphobia. It includes conducts such as verbal aggression, sexual abuse and physical violence. The most extreme expression of direct violence is of course murder and hate-crimes, which, according to participants’ accounts, have been taking place in of Colima in an increasing manner. These forms of aggression were readily found in the stories of the participants. The following passage shared by Yuli (age 22) is one such example and should not be considered an unusual episode in these trans women’s daily lives:

They were kids from my own neighbourhood. They invited me to get into the car and have a drink. I think it had something in it because I started to get dizzy and felt really strange. I passed out and don’t remember anything else until the next day, when I opened my eyes. I didn’t know what had happened. I did not feel the beating. But some neighbours told me that they had found me in a corner.

Participants described how this type of violence often operates in direct relation to their gender expression and those who more visible in the public spaces were more likely to be the target of verbal and physical aggressions. Visibility here usually refers to exhibiting extroverted behaviors or to a noticeable transgression of gender norms with regard to masculine and feminine bodies and appearances. J (age 27) describes this:

That’s what matters the most in this place… The main problem [when being a victim of violence] is the issue of how you look, how you dress, how you talk, how you walk, how you get on socially… You have to watch how people see you, try not to draw too much attention.

Both extracts point to the psychosocial consequences of feeling unsafe within their own neighborhoods. This makes it very difficult to live their gender identity without threats of physical harm, while hiding their gender will result in other negative psychosocial consequences for identity construction and mental health.

(ii) Institutional violence

Transphobic violence was also found rooted in the institutional regulations of public life and related to these participants’ gender expression. This was described in their daily experiences with a range of institutional settings. The most frequent scenarios of institutional violence perceived by participants were health services, education and public security (police and institutions related to administration of justice). Some participants discussed mistreatment by medical staff and the absence of procedures to meet their particular health problems. Others denounced the failing of current legislation to prosecute and track offenses motivated by their gender identity. This type of violence operates via formal dispositions, codes, protocols and criteria that prevent trans women from a complete and safe access to institutional rights and public services. One example of this can be found in the words of Samantha (age 24):

Wherever you go … If you go to the Red Cross because you feel bad or to run a transaction or to file a complaint, even if you look like a woman and you complain to them as a woman, they treat you like a man. For them, you’re still a man, even if you have boobs, even if you have surgery down there, you’re still a man for the government.

Here, the violent expression erased and undermined Samantha’s identity through the failure to recognize her in terms of her gender expression. Other instances of institutional violence related to participants use of social spaces, limiting their citizenship rights in their gender expression. For example, accounts were provided of being denied access to the bathroom that corresponds to their gender identity in school and work settings, or banning entry to bars or restaurants because of their gender expression. Institutional violence can also be observed in the way state security organizations have normalized harassment and power abuses as common practices toward trans women:

the police caught us for only being ‘dressed’ [transvestite], me and three other friends who went to a party, we went out, and we thought it was a good idea to go to a bar. And we weren’t prostituting ourselves or anything, and they took us to jail, handcuffed as criminals, they took us out of the bar and we had to pay a fine for moral damages to society or something like that, according to them (Alejandra, 30 years-old)

This type of action by the police demonstrates the role institutional power in psychosocial processes of humiliation and shaming of these participants on the basis of their gender expression. Institutional violence manifests during the day-to-day use of many public services of such as public transport as well as in primary socialization spaces such as schools and educational colleges:

Just for our looks, in public transportation, taxis, buses, the rejection against us is very clear with a very strong discrimonatory attitude. And if you complain they just make you get of the bus and can leave you anywhere (Lorena, 26 years-old).

Even in education (…) if you are trans they will not allow you to go dressed as a woman to take your classes, if you want to have access to a job you have to dress as a man and cut your hair because otherwise they won’t give you a job dressed as a woman (Michelle, 38 years old)

(iii) Symbolic violence

This form of violence operates through symbolic mechanisms rooted in culture and inscribed in the perceptual and cognitive schemas with which we interpret the social world. It is a kind of “common sense” with respect to the way social relations are organized and therefore perceived as natural. It contributes to the reproduction of asymmetrical and oppressive relations that are frequently considered normal even for the oppressed groups (Bourdieu, 2001). In this study we found that these trans women often expected to be ‘read’ by others as “promiscuous” and “dangerous”. Although some participants described the need to challenge and change this perception, to prove them wrong, some also argued that “respect” from others is something that trans people have to “earn”, thus internalizing the normality of this suspicion and bias in their own narratives. This was the case in Rebeca’s (age 33) narrative:

[If you want to avoid aggressions] you have to earn the respect from others… That starts with the way you behave, you dress, how you do your make up. That’s how you give yourself to respect. How you get along with other people. That decides if people see you as a transsexual woman or a transvestite, or something funny or weird, something like a clown… You have to give the impression of a good woman… That means not dressing in a vulgar way, how you interact with other people… I always say that’s how you earn respect and from there everything else is done

This account demonstrates the powerful symbolic structures that define what is to be acknowledged as a complete or decent woman in Colima and the pervasive demands of gender conformity in order to be “respected” and recognize. It also evidences how the local, conservative norms of femininity regulate all women’s conduct, where those that transgress them, particularly trans women, are considered less worthy of respect, and are at greater risk of humiliation and abuse.

(c) Sites for support and social change

Narrative accounts identified that interpersonal relationships play an important role in shaping participants’ gender identities. A range of social sites, actors and institutions were also identified for their impact on these participants’ psychosocial subjectivities by either reproducing or defending against transphobic violence. It is important to note that the sites of ‘social support’ discussed here refer not simply to individuals but to the role of collective entities and institutions that are implicated in social support practices and have the potential to make a vital impact on the psychosocial wellbeing and long-term health of trans women in Colima.

(i) Family relations

In all cases family was an important site for participants’ identity formation and psychosocial wellbeing. Family was central to the way these participants assessed their success or failure, acceptance or rejection and ease or difficulty with expressing a non-normative gender identity. It is within the family space that these trans women sought recognition and support especially in the early moments of identity transition. Experiences with family groups varied and participants’ accounts were divided between accounts of ‘acceptance’ or ‘rejection’, with some narratives involving a measure of both when taking into account individual family members (e.g. father, mother, siblings or extended family). An example of family support shared by Shally (age 23) describes:

In my family everyone has supported me, nobody has turned their backs on me. My family is aware of who I am. Indeed, they did not accept me at first but then they saw that, because of the education my parents gave me, I wasn’t going to become any crazy person… If someone in the street or in my work does not like the way I am, I would not back down. But I feel especially if my mom had rejected me, it would have been very painful for me.

Here, we can observe the psychosocial importance of family acceptance. Family acceptance provides Shally with a secure affective base that supports her gender expression and identity and enables her to respond to the frequent rejection and threats of violence she faces outside of the home. Nevertheless, family was also somewhere gender expression could be rejected and restricted, requiring participants to negotiate, deploy persuasive strategies and regulate their gender expression in order to be accepted as a woman in the family.

At first my family prevented me from dressing (as a woman) 24 hours a day. I used to do it when my parents weren’t there. In the beginning my mother did not accept very well that I dressed (as a woman). She said that I was born as a man, that she had always seen in me as a boy and not a girl … But in these three years, things have changed a lot in my family. My mom has learned to take it better (Yuli, age 22).

Here we see the possibility that family relations can be reframed overtime. Given the centrality of ‘family’ to Mexican life (Niemann et al., 1999), particularly in conservative provinces such as Colima, the potential for change and eventual acceptance within the family is crucial for psychosocial well-being of trans people. However, this type of transformation can be difficult to mobilize when it goes against the grain of wider entrenched gender norms and societal conservatism.

(ii) Education

Our participants regularly identified educational settings as the first public space where their identity as a woman was fully adopted and socially expressed, particularly in middle and high school. It was frequently within these spaces where participants tested their new names and where they developed social codes of self-identification:

In the middle of high school when I was 18, it was when I started to reveal (show) myself (to come out). There I joined other people that were gay or trans or liked to dress. Some of them had already come out of the closet and people made fun of them… When I finish high school I went to the university to study Languages, but although the majority of my classmates were women, I did not finish the course, I dropped off and started working (Ambar, age 28).

High school was frequently characterized as a place where harassment practices occurred. Although an important space for the ‘coming out’ process, learning and development, it was also a source of discriminatory practices that led to abandoning formal education. The majority of participants (n = 7) reported dropping out of school during high school or university, a major risk for these participants as evidence demonstrates the serious impact of lack of education on long-term health and social inequalities (Grant et al., 2011). Low levels of educational achievement exacerbates the psychosocial impact of other forms of transphobic violence and discrimination leaving trans women particularly vulnerable, trapped by unemployment or limited employment options (e.g. sex work) and a “drift towards poverty” that has lifelong consequences for their health and wellbeing (Winter et al., 2016). Addressing how gender norms and discrimination operate in school settings and developing interventions would be of benefit for tackling all forms of gender-related violence.

(iii) LGBT community and peers

A common theme each participant shared was the relevance of other trans women (generally older) and the LGBT community more generally as an important support network. Building alliances with other transgender women were a key factor for coping successfully with forms of discrimination and violence. Financial help and temporary refuge and distribution of medically non-regulated hormones were frequent practices of support, particularly at the beginning of gender transitions. As J (age 27) states:

Throughout this transition from boy-to-girl, I obviously started to get together, to be with other transsexual girls. I leaned very much on them, on many trans girls, to carry out my own crossing. They were my examples… We have also come together to go out and protest and demand our rights.

Although the LGBT collective was mostly described as a social network of support, participants also referred to discrimination practices coming from the LGBT community and, more precisely, from gay and lesbian members. These include opinions expressed by gay men and lesbians that trans people give a “bad name” to the community or are perceived as “not natural” and “bizarre”, demonstrating that transphobia can also found in places and networks that might be concerned as safe and inclusive. These types of community divisions can be found in most countries, but the impact is heightened in countries such as Mexico where the protection of human rights of trans people is limited (Malta et al., 2019) and the psychosocial benefits of community support more profound when state and institutional recognition is lacking.

(iv) Police

Unsurprisingly, given the impact of violence on participants’ lives a fourth social actor that frequently appeared in their narratives was the police. Their interpretation of the role of the police in providing support against experiences of violence was at the best ambivalent. On the one hand, the police were referred to as ‘protective agents’ as someone to seek support from when harassment occurred; on the other hand, they were also identified as executors of harassment and violence. Complaints about unjustified arrests, extortions and in some cases physical violence abound in participants’ accounts:

Once, when I was 21, a friend and I were going to go to a club, walking in a big street (…) when a patrol stopped us and arrested us for one night, because they accused us of prostitution. We ended up paying a fine and were released in the next morning. My family never found out. That’s how I ended up detained (Ambar, age 28)

These sorts of experiences are consistent with institutional violence (outlined above) that tends to criminalize transgender people in public spaces, associating them with illicit, immoral or socially punishable activities. Narratives showed that in Colima prejudice against participants operated by placing them as suspects of a variety of punishable behaviors (such as drug use, illegal prostitution or inappropriate behaviour). This leads to situations like the one described by Camila (age, 29):

The Mexican government is the worst in these cases. If you [as a trans women] call the police because something happened to you, they come to arrest you and not whoever stole from you or did something to you… Just because you are trans, you end up being the aggressor.

These accounts remind us of the depth of transphobia within a range of institutional settings and the desperate need for social change to improve trans lives. While participants spoke of both support and rejection from their families, or LGBT community, in the external world of public institutions such as education and the state security systems they were primarily treated as inferior. This type of institutionalized prejudice is known to have long-term implications for mental health as well as increase the likelihood of being the direct victim of violence within settings where institutional support and protection is absent.

Discussion

Participants’ identities were deeply shaped by contextual factors, including the daily experiences of transphobic practices they were exposed to. This was observed in the narrative structures they developed to make sense of their selves and the strategies they used to display their gender identity in a range of social settings. Stigmatization in social beliefs and prejudice in public policies and institutional practices extended into and interacted with transphobia in community and interpersonal relations, and vice versa. The ways in which transphobia operates in Colima was considered including how experiences of direct, institutional and symbolic violence combined to produce material and psychosocial consequences for these trans women, shaping their identity development and impacting on their subjectivity and well-being.

According to these participants, meaningful factors that interact to produce the experience of transphobia include: a prejudice that depicts trans woman as “dangerous” or “immoral”; the lack of an institutional framework for effectively assisting with their social and psychological needs; and the formal and informal gender expectations that exclude trans women from public spaces and services. These factors are mobilized in a cultural context characterized by conservatism, rigid gender norms regulating masculinity and femininity, profound violence and considerable unevenness in LGBT rights and wellbeing in different regions of Latin America (Corrales, 2017).

While these participants shared a desire for gender recognition and autonomy with transgender women globally, it is vital to consider the underlying challenges they face in Colima. They are placed within a complex network of power relations that incorporates an interpersonal and physical abuse as well as structural and symbolic violence in the everyday. Attending to these intersections within a psychosocial conceptual framework helps understand how negotiation of gender expression, gender identities and social systems are entwined with multiple cultural and political factors (Bowleg, 2012; Johnson, 2015). We explored participants’ experiences paying close attention to the ways in which different forms of transphobic violence overlapped and how they impacted on these trans women’s identities and gender expressions. Participants’ described a daily struggle to affirm their identity and display their gender subjectivity in situated social and cultural locations. Narratives also positioned women’s identities as resistant and resilient, generating a sense of self defined by a capacity to overcome obstacles and cope with hostile conditions. This narrative structure emphasizes the agency of these women in not only facing transphobia but also as active subjects striving for gender recognition. But, the local conditions of Colima (e.g., entrenched gender norms, conservatism, violence) shape the very notion of a transgender identity into strategic, dynamic and partial meanings. Participants identify with it, alongside other interchangeable identity categories, as a strategic practice for self-preservation when negotiating or deflecting transphobic discrimination and violence. While they find ways of living, the conditions restrict their right to self-autonomy and free gender expression compared to trans women living in areas with more legal protection and less gender violence.

Different social actors and networks have a significant role to play in improving the lives of trans women in Colima, with family, LGBT peers, schools and law enforcement institutions identified as particularly important. Findings suggest that trans women have an ambivalent relationship with these social actors; while they function as a form of social support or protection against transphobia, they are simultaneously a source of violence and discrimination. Uncertainty in these relationships exacerbates the psychosocial vulnerabilities that come from living in fear of violence in public and social spaces and impacts on an individual’s sense of self and their well-being. Nevertheless, there is potential for interventions in these sites to improve psychosocial support and transform socio-cultural attitudes and responses. We acknowledge that this call for transformation is challenging to operationalize in deeply conservative settings but working with the voice of local community members to re-shape organizations, institutions and policies and reduce inequalities (e.g., Reisner et al., 2016b) is a necessary recommendation. Findings also point to the crucial role of schools and educational spaces as a starting place for tackling discrimination, promoting a culture of inclusion and improving life chances, health and well-being of trans women in the global south.

Limitations

An important limitation of this study was the socio-demographic profile of the sample. Although such a profile follows common experiences of transgender women in Colima, a broader spectrum of participants with different educational, work and socioeconomic backgrounds, might further inform our understanding of diverse problems and experiences. Additionally, longer and more detailed interviews would have allowed a deeper understanding of particularly psychosocial processes determine how trans women challenge transphobia and this could be mined to improve community knowledge and potentially increase wellbeing.

Conclusion

It is important to investigate and recognize trans women’s lived experiences in relation to psychosocial processes and the specificity of cultural norms in order to fully understand the ways in which multiple threads of power converge to produce specific identity formations and gender relations. Our findings demonstrate narratives and affective experiences of discrimination and transphobic violence that will be recognizable to trans people in many places, yet the level of violence and violation of human rights in places such as Colima, Mexico is disproportionate to the places where most knowledge about transgender lives emergences (e.g., North America, Europe). We therefore call for more empirical investigations to be located in regional settings in the global south to account for and offer solutions intersecting forms of violence that limit gender expression, health, wellbeing and safety, in regions that are the most dangerous for transgender people.

Disclosure statement

The authors report no conflict of interest. The authors alone are responsible for the content and writing of this paper.