Abstract
Sweden is globally considered not only a country with generous refugee reception policies but also a leading example of equality and respect for LGBTQ rights. The country recognises, for example, Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Expression, and Sex Characteristics (SOGIESC) as legitimate grounds for asylum protection, via the Sweden Aliens Act (2006). This study seeks to understand the lived experiences of trans-African migrants’ integration process in Sweden. Data is gathered from three in-depth semi-structured interviews with diverse trans refugees. The heuristic model of integration processes was used for data analysis focusing on the structural, social and identity dimensions through an intersectional lens. Participants revealed experiences of intersectional discrimination, bias, and prejudice in the structure and social dimensions while accessing healthcare systems and the labour market, which led to increased insecurity from unstable income and housing, isolation from local ethnic migrant networks or family transnational ties, and inadequate support from LGBTQ organisations, which further impacted their sense of belonging. Yet, despite it all, they share a sense of agency, resilience, and hope.
Introduction
In many parts of the world, LGBTQ communities face persecution from both state and non-state actors due to strict cultural and gender norms. However, it is often trans people who are particularly vulnerable to discrimination, stigma, and violence in both public and private spheres. Consequently, many are often forced to seek safety and protection in other countries. LGBTQ refugees are amongst one of the fastest-growing migrant populations in the world, and the past decade has witnessed a drastic increase in the number of individuals claiming asylum based on sexual orientation and gender identity and/or expression.
The topic of LGBTQ refugees has been a staple for scholars globally: studies have focused on mental health,[1] post-migration challenges, the asylum process,[2] and perceptions of home and belonging.[3] The body of work related to the experiences of trans refugees is, however, still relatively small.[4] The emerging literature in this field leverages perspectives drawn from legal, psychological, and gender approaches, highlighting the need for a deeper understanding of their unique challenges and perspectives.
In Europe, studies on LGBTQ refugees’ mental health, the asylum process, and integration have begun to emerge,[5] yet few scholars have also focused exclusively on trans people in the asylum-seeking process. These studies have revealed continued experiences of isolation, discrimination, and vulnerability. For instance, scholars have argued that although LGBTQ ‘migrants/refugees’ may have fled from danger and injustices in their home countries, they still remain ‘unfree and isolated outsiders’ in their new country of residence. This is particularly true for trans people, who have reported feeling ‘insecure’ and ‘unsafe’ in both institutional settings of asylum and healthcare. Studies also revealed that participants experienced incessant threats to their human rights due to experiences of institutional discrimination by asylum authorities and in the labour market. They also face racial and social prejudice, which increases feelings of victimisation.[6]
Contrary to research that focuses on narratives of victimhood and persecution, other studies have highlighted the agency and resilience of LGBTQ refugees. Findings show that despite their challenges and traumas during the integration process, LGBTQ refugees exhibit a sense of agency and resilience and employ subjective coping strategies.[7] Alessi, for example, has investigated resilience in sexual and gender minority-forced migrants resettled in the United States and Canada, finding that ‘spiritual upkeep’ played a key role in strengthening resilience. Alessi concluded that although LGBTQ migrants are a vulnerable group, they do not fail to acknowledge their resilience and own strengths to cope with challenges faced during resettlement in the host country.[8] This is worth further exploration in Sweden to understand the subjective strategies transgender migrants with intersecting identities leverage to cope with their integration process experience.
Compared to other countries in the EU, Sweden has a generous asylum system dating back to the 1970s and 80s, welcoming those seeking protection from persecution and wars in countries such as Chile, Somalia, and Morocco.[9] This was also evidenced in 2015 when Sweden was one of the countries which welcomed a high number of asylum seekers.[10] In connection with providing asylum to LGBTQ individuals, Sweden has opened its doors with the promise of equality, security, and safety for LGBTQ people wanting to freely express their gender identity. Sweden has globally positioned itself as an LGBTQ-friendly country, being a signatory to a wide range of international instruments that catalogue the fundamental rights of LGBTQ people, and has been amongst the top countries that continuously recorded the ‘highest proportion of respondents expressing acceptance of LGBTQ rights in Europe’. Additionally, Sweden ranks amongst the top countries that protect trans rights and has enacted anti-discrimination laws for trans persons in housing, healthcare, education, goods and services, and housing.[11]
Though a small body of qualitative research is emerging in Sweden that focuses on LGBTQ refugees,[12] very few studies have been conducted on trans individuals. Limited studies have explored the settlement experiences of LGBTQ migrants, let alone focusing exclusively on analysing the situation of transmigrants who have particular needs and challenges.[13] A notable government-commissioned inquiry into the general situation of trans persons highlighted how many trans people experienced heightened precarity, violence, and insecurity when accessing various public institutions and public spaces as well as securing permanent housing. The report recommends further intersectional investigation into the experiences of trans people, particularly those who have experiences of being ‘racialised’ in Sweden.[14]
Given this background, an understanding of transgender migrants’ lived experience is of great significance. This study thus examines how LGBTQ migrants experience their integration process in Sweden, a country in which the Aliens Act (2006) recognises Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Expression, and Sex Characteristics (SOGIESC) as legitimate grounds for asylum protection. We examine the integration experiences of LGBTQ migrants in Sweden, with a particular focus on African transgender individuals with migrant status. The integration framework used in this research is based on the heuristic model proposed by Spencer and Charsley, which conceptualises integration as a multi-dimensional and multi-directional process. Unlike traditional models that imply a fixed or desired end goal (such as full assimilation), this model understands integration as an ongoing, dynamic process influenced by interactions across various domains, including structural, social, cultural, and civic spheres.[15]
A key feature of this model is its emphasis on the non-linearity of integration, whereby different aspects of individuals’ lives, such as employment, social networks, or access to service do not develop in a uniform manner. Instead, progress in one dimension may lag or advance independently of others. Additionally, the model accounts for the interconnectedness of society, recognising that the boundaries between different groups are porous, and interactions between migrants and host societies are shaped by both local and transnational factors. Furthermore, the model’s multi-directional nature allows for a nuanced analysis of how both migrants and the host society adapt and change through these interactions. Rather than viewing integration as a one-way process in which migrants must adapt to pre-existing societal norms, this approach allows for a more fluid understanding of how migrants contribute to and reshape the societies they enter. This is especially relevant for LGBTQ migrants, whose social positions and experiences may challenge existing cultural norms in both migrant and host communities.
According to this model, integration processes take place within five dimensions: social, structural, cultural, identity, and civil and political participation. Of central importance to the present study are the social, structural, and identity-related dimensions, described by Spencer and Charsely as follows: ‘Structural— as in participation in the labour and housing market, education and health systems; Social—as in social interaction, relationships, and networks; […] Identity—the processes through which individuals of differing backgrounds may develop a shared identity and sense of belonging with the place, nation, communities and people among whom they live’.[16] I focus on these three dimensions to better understand the lived experiences of transgender migrants’ integration process, always bearing in mind that integration is not a compartmentalised process, but that in real life, these dimensions are often interlinked.
Spencer and Charsley designate as ‘effectors’ factors that influence the integration process by either enabling engagement or hampering it.[17] This study will similarly explore how individual, family, and societal ‘effectors’ such as language ability, care responsibilities, or job opportunities impact the integration of LGBTQ migrants in Sweden. By examining these effectors, it seeks to uncover how social structures and personal circumstances interact to facilitate or hinder integration. For example, a transgender migrant’s access to housing may be shaped by local attitudes towards gender diversity, while their ability to find employment may depend on the intersection of social capital, language proficiency, and institutional policies.
Additionally, an intersectional approach, as pioneered by Kimberlé Crenshaw, is used to identify the ‘structural and social contexts and norms that intersect to create structures of oppression and privilege for groups and individuals’.[18] This approach acknowledges that people’s lives are ‘multi-dimensional and complex, and their lived experiences are shaped by the interaction of intersecting identities, contexts, and social dynamics’.[19] By exploring the intersectionality of gender, migrant, and racial positions through this lens, we can gain a more nuanced understanding of how African transgender refugees experience their integration process in Sweden.
Analysis discussion and findings
The analysis, following the methodology outlined above, revealed four main themes from the interviews: Intersectional discrimination, Insecurity, (Un)belonging, and Resilience and Hope. Core themes that will be presented were prominent in all interviews, although the perspectives provided in them differed.
Theme One: Intersectional discrimination
The theme of intersectional discrimination featured prominently in participants’ descriptions of their experiences of the integration process. It was apparent that their intersecting and ‘multiple historically marginalised social positions’ as transgender and black migrants made them more vulnerable to ‘intersecting forms of oppression’.[20] However, there were variations in individual experiences in structural, social, and identity dimensions, attributable to individual additional intersecting social positions.
Structural dimension:
Participants shared narratives that consistently underscored the theme of intersectional discrimination. As black trans refugees, they have several intersecting social positions, placing them in a position of increased vulnerability to what Crenshaw described as ‘intersecting forms of oppression’. In this section, I will examine these intersections through the lenses of the labour market, as well as health and social services.
Labour market:
A major area in which African transgender migrants experience discrimination and stigmatisation is in the labour market. Magret, a black trans woman and a refugee, was initially cautioned by her social worker, who told her about the reluctance of Swedish employers to hire trans migrants. Her social worker cited the perceived costs and legal concerns associated with employing trans individuals. In Magret’s words, ‘[the social worker] said employers complained that it was costly because, in many cases, trans people came without experience and were only focused on their transition and taking employers to court for unfair treatment […] So many companies were just uncomfortable hiring trans people’. Magret’s perception here is that the feedback from the social worker was valid, given the barriers she was encountering in the labour market. In Magret’s understanding and experience, the social worker felt employers exhibited discriminatory hiring practices. Scholars have linked such stigma to work related transphobia, which creates barriers to employment and financial wellbeing for transgender individuals.[21]
The transphobia experienced in the workplace extended beyond their interactions with employers and infiltrated their relationships with fellow migrant co-workers. Magret shared instances where she was verbally abused by co-workers who perpetuated stigmatisation. She described her working conditions, stating, ‘I remember, I had a job of cutting grass in the summer […] people who were also working were busy gossiping like you know those are transgenders. They were saying all those nasty words about transgender, and these are fellow immigrants from different countries […] (laughs), you struggle. It wasn’t easy!’.
Another participant, Dan—a black trans man with a refugee background—pointed out that he faced homophobia from migrant co-workers who assumed he was gay. Trans people faced extreme hostility not only within the labour market but also within their migrant community; the experiences shared by Magret and Dan serve as a poignant reminder of how co-workers, who on the surface shared similar migrant backgrounds and held low-skilled positions, perpetuated stigmatisation of other forms. This interconnectedness of the oppressions that participants experienced in the workplace also reveals that these injustices emanated from multiple sources within the labour market. As highlighted in a report by the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights (FRA), trans individuals experience ‘structural discrimination’, which culminates in their marginalisation and exclusion from stable, formal employment.[22] Magret and Dan’s comments also align with Spencer and Charsley’s assertion that ‘employers’ or neighbours’ perceptions of migrants’ identities may influence their social and work opportunities’.[23]
Health and social services
Studies conducted in Sweden have consistently revealed how intersectional discrimination in the labour market contributes to a state of precarious employment, poverty, and poor mental health.[24] These findings align with the socioeconomic positions of our participants, which are further highlighted in their encounters with social welfare services. Experiences of transphobia have been found to impact multiple facets of life, including education, health care, and access to credit, further affecting trans people’s integration process and well-being.[25] The following focuses in greater detail on participants’ access to healthcare and social services.
Participants provided detailed accounts of transphobia in healthcare settings, recounting instances of deliberate misgendering and the disregard of their chosen names and pronouns by medical personnel. Dan, a trans man with unique healthcare needs due to his birthing experience, narrated the challenges he faced while accessing healthcare services, particularly during the pre-and post-natal period. His experiences were characterised by feelings of being disrespected, where his requests to be called ‘papa’ and referred to with masculine pronouns were consistently ignored. In Dan’s words: ‘They said we go with what’s on your personal number. At that time, I had not yet changed my gender marker. Even my own Barnmörska (midwife in Swedish) never respected my gender identity. I felt so angry and hopeless. I never felt like a transman during this experience’.
Likewise, Dan’s experiences extended to the local clinic, where he felt unsafe due to transphobic treatment by nurses. The nurses deliberately misgendered him and referred to him as ‘mother’ in front of other parents, a situation that compelled Dan to withdraw from these gatherings. These experiences serve as a striking example of how negative treatment and disrespect due to gender identity adversely affects access to crucial services, ultimately reinforcing feelings of isolation and alienation.
Dan’s emotional account of a recent hospital stay highlights the profound impact of transphobia on his well-being. His vulnerability and sense of humiliation were palpable as he described an incident where a nurse treated him unfairly because of his trans identity. His harrowing experience in the hospital, as Dan described, involved being bathed by a nurse who displayed a visible disgust at the sight of his naked body. Dan, in a vulnerable moment, shared, ‘It was bad […] you know, like somebody showering you like you got [expletive] on your body, she looked disgusted seeing my naked body. Do you understand? This treatment was so heart-breaking. I remember crying to myself. I’m like, why am I passing through this’.
The compounded effect of Dan’s racial identity made him even more susceptible to discrimination. In a poignant reflection on his experiences, Dan stated, ‘There is a type of discrimination that you cannot even explain to somebody, saying this is discrimination. But you know that if I were somebody different or identified myself differently, I wouldn’t face this kind of challenge. So, on many occasions until today, the system failed me because I was a black trans man. As black trans men, we are still facing what white people don’t face […] If I were different in colour, I would be treated better’. This powerfully captures how Dan’s experiences were shaped by the intersectionality of his gender identity and race, intensifying the discrimination he faced.
Experiences of discrimination in healthcare also extended to Magret’s accounts. When Magret needed to enter rehab, she faced many barriers due to her gender and racial social positions. She discovered that no place was willing to accommodate ‘a black, let alone trans, English-speaking person’. She highlighted that it took over five months before her social worker could secure a place that was considered ‘trans-friendly’. Even during her stay in rehab, Magret said she was still confronted with stigma and abusive language from her white peers, who used demeaning and derogatory language to belittle her. These experiences of racial prejudice were distressing, and Magret characterised her time in rehab as ‘my worst experience’. She went on to express that she wouldn’t encourage another trans person to go through a similar ordeal, given the potential emotional toll, saying, ‘I cannot really encourage another trans person to go through it because you might get out of rehab and commit suicide. It’s possible!’ Magret’s account highlights the intersectionality of the ‘oppressions’ she experienced. Even in a rehab setting, among individuals who are part of a minority and often stigmatised group, her presence triggered racially abusive language from a fellow patient. In sum, Dan and Magret’s reflections illuminate how experiences of racism and transphobia on the basis of intersectional identities had cascading effects, permeating various aspects of their lives and influencing their integration process.
Social dimension:
The social dimension encompasses interactions, relationships, and networks. Experiences within this sphere predominantly revolve around engagement in broader society, as well as participation within ethnic migrant and home country diaspora communities.
Broader society
Participants recounted instances of encountering racial and transphobic prejudice when navigating society. They expressed feeling the weight of both stigma related to their gender identity and racial discrimination. For instance, Magret and Vilma, both black trans women and refugees, shared their encounters with racial discrimination in public spaces. However, their experiences diverged significantly. Unlike Vilma, Magret openly expressed her gender identity. She vividly described her daily ordeal: ‘Being a trans woman of colour requires an immense amount of courage just to step out of your house […] People often acknowledge the challenges of being black in Sweden or Europe, but when you’re also trans, the struggle intensifies!’
Furthermore, participants highlighted that they confronted discrimination and stigma even within their home country’s diaspora and ethnic migrant communities. As one participant candidly stated, ‘I avoid gatherings with black people because I know that the transphobia emanating from our own community cuts deeper than the prejudice from white individuals’. Dan revealed that he had been excommunicated from the church after his gender identity became known. The pastor convened a meeting and informed him that he needed to be spiritually reborn. In the interim, he was requested to cease attending while they deliberated on how to ‘assist’ him. Even when Dan attempted to conceal his gender identity primarily for safety, once it was discovered by the church leadership, he became an outcast within the religious community, compounding broader experiences of marginalisation and isolation, leading them to feel ‘invisible, socially ostracised, and subjected to discrimination’.[26]
Theme Two: Insecurity
Another significant theme connected to the experience of intersectional discrimination is a prevailing sense of insecurity. The individuals I interviewed shared their experiences of dwelling in precarious circumstances due to the absence of a stable, consistent income, suitable housing, and dependable support networks, across both structural and social dimensions.
Structural Dimension:
Labour Market
Insecurities emanating from not having a stable job and income featured prominently in participant’s experiences. They described their precarious situations, reliant on meagre support from the social welfare services, which they felt ‘infantilised’ them and ‘regulated’ their lives. Vilma, an unemployed, not educated black trans refugee woman who mentioned never finding employment in Sweden, lamented that: ‘At this moment, my home contains only rice, and the money they provide is meagre. Nevertheless, they burden us with many issues for this sum’. The experiences of these participants unveiled their status as the ‘new underclass: a minority within a minority’.[27] Scholars have highlighted that ethnic enclaves, local and transnational ties, and families are sources of social capital that can facilitate access to resources in host countries.[28] However, my interlocutors avoided such networks, fearing exposure and retribution due to their gender social positions.
In alignment with others, Dan recounted how experiences of insecurity and uncertainty about the future pushed him to the brink, leading to a suicide attempt. He shared, ‘At one point, my emotional struggles overwhelmed me. I found myself in a situation where I contemplated ending my life. Social services were pursuing custody of my child, and I lacked a stable residence, a steady income, or anyone to confide in’. Dan eloquently conveys the web of insecurities he grappled with, including homelessness, unemployment, and single parenthood without a support network or safety net to fall back on. The participants’ experiences of insecurity due to joblessness and homelessness align with findings in Sweden by SOU, which highlighted that transgender individuals, compared to cisgender counterparts, face ‘higher unemployment, lower incomes, and increased poverty and homelessness’.[29]
Housing
All participants emphasised feelings of insecurity regarding housing. They noted that without a stable job and income, finding secure housing became nearly impossible. Dan shared a personal experience, saying, ‘When I was identified as female, they protected me, made sure I was in a safe place and provided their home to me. But once I started transitioning, they left me alone. The system failed me because I was a black trans man. However, before, when I was a black woman with a child, they helped me. But now, as a black trans man with a child, the only thing they did was to fight me, break me, and try to take my child from me’.
In this account, Dan vividly portrayed his sense of being unfairly treated due to intersecting social positions as a black trans man. The impact of unstable income and homelessness among trans people has been documented in Europe.[30] Furthermore, the lack of stable income and homelessness has been associated with mental health challenges among transgender individuals in Sweden, as highlighted by Breight and Larsson.[31]
Healthcare
Participants described having different mental health problems, such as depression, anxiety, and alcoholism. These experiences have also been pointed out by other scholars: Golembe et al, for example, found that post-migration LGBTQ refugees encounter re-traumatisation, social isolation, and increased mental health burdens.[32] Magret pointed out that being compelled to stop hormonal treatment by the gender clinic and having to wait for two years for the official process to begin had also increased her insecurities about her body and sense of self: ‘When I came here, I was already on hormones for two years, but here they said I need to stop. Nobody even thought about the withdrawal effects. I think that’s why I started taking more alcohol because I was like very angry, even today I have many insecurities as a transwoman’.
This experience shows how Magret’s insecurities are connected to the intersection of her gender identity and migrant social positions. While other migrant cisgender women might have insecurities, she needs access to hormones to feel more aligned and secure with her body. To be given access to state funded treatment, she needs to follow the legal regulations of the gender clinic. Spencer and Charsley’s model could also consider that in relation to the identity dimension belonging is not only about ‘a shared sense of being part of a diverse community’, but also about feeling a sense of belonging in your body.[33] In the above discussion on experiences of insecurity in the structural dimension, participants’ experiences revealed a complex, non-linear interlink between experiences within the same structural dimension as joblessness and homelessness also impacted on mental health.[34]
Social dimension:
Networks and relationships
A recurring concern centred on the increased precarity stemming from the absence of support networks and non-existent familial relations. Dan and Vilma, for example, expressed apprehension about disclosing their gender identity to unfamiliar individuals. They also recounted feelings of insecurity, characterising themselves as ‘isolated’ and ‘alone’, lacking significant local support from friends, families, migrant communities, or other LGBTQ organisations.
Participants highlighted that LGBTQ groups proved beneficial for those still seeking asylum, yet there was a dearth of support for transgender individuals facing precarious situations, particularly refugees, once they had obtained residency permits. As Dan pointed out, ‘We don’t know where to go; there are no organisations like the women’s organisations that offer safe homes for women. We don’t have safe homes for trans people. We lack an emergency number for trans people to call; we don’t have any support beyond the LGBTQ organisations. However, these organisations do not address such cases unless you are an asylum seeker. Real-life struggles emerge after the asylum, and regrettably, you face them alone’. This echoes the observations of other scholars, who have noted that transgender refugees ‘find themselves with rights but without community or home, and so unable to fully actualise these rights’.[35]
Theme Three: Un(belonging)
As described by Spencer and Charsley, the dimension of identity revolves around ‘the diverse experiences of individuals sharing an identity and a sense of belonging with the place, nation, communities, and people they live among’.[36] Participants’ reflections in the present study revealed that they did indeed experience a sense of belonging to local communities in Sweden in various ways. Interestingly, they all connected their sense of belonging to very intimate and personal spaces and individuals, underscoring how intersectional discrimination and insecurities profoundly impact one’s sense of belonging.
While Dan and Magret mentioned their involvement in LGBTQ organisations, they also expressed feelings of being ‘tokenised’ and ‘invisible’, believing that their voices and issues were not accommodated. This made them feel like an ‘outsider’, as Dan further elaborated: ‘I attended one group meeting, people were in little cliques, gays on their own, lesbians etc, and I was just alone as trans. Where is the sense of belonging in that?’ Magret also echoed similar sentiments when describing her experience: ‘Some organisations just want you to be on the board to be a flower […] we’re just being put there, you discover when decisions are being made that you just, you’re just a flower. They just wanted a black trans woman on the board’. This illustrates how individuals can be formally included in these spaces while simultaneously experiencing a sense of not belonging. Notably, in this case racial and gender social positions serve as both ‘axes of privilege’ granting inclusion in these spaces and contribute to feeling ‘tokenised’. Such reflections by participants about feeling isolated, unsupported, and having no sense of belonging to communities in Sweden, and in particular to LGBTQ organisations, challenge the findings of Konstenius et al, who emphasised that LGBTQ refugees in Sweden experienced a sense of belonging, safety, and improved health and well-being through participation in LGBTQ organisations, creating a supportive community.[37]
Theme Four: Resilience and hope
Despite these challenges, participants exhibited a remarkable sense of agency, resourcefulness, and a strong desire to enhance their lives and the lives of others. They explained how these difficulties fuelled their determination. Notably, they expressed their aspirations to pursue higher education and meaningful careers. As Vilma elaborated: ‘I want to be to be a vårdgivare (nurse) and help old people. I hope to get a decent salary […] support my mom, and make investments for the future’. As further testimony of her resilience and sense of agency, Magret said despite all the challenges she faces, she continues to show up for other trans asylum seekers, and she is now in the process of creating social spaces for youth, refugees, and migrants who are trans and non-Swedish speaking.
These insights align with the findings of other researchers, who have highlighted the resilience demonstrated by LGBTQ migrants in the face of adversity.[38] However, unlike in the work of Alessi, in the present study there was no indication that the participants’ resilience was linked to ‘spiritual practices’.[39] Instead, participants demonstrated a significant sense of agency by actively striving to change their circumstances, including pursuing further education. It’s also worth mentioning that, even if they did not necessarily feel a strong sense of belonging within various local communities, they remained eager and ready to contribute to the broader society.
Conclusion
This study aimed to gain insights into the real-life experiences of transgender African migrants. It sought to understand the challenges they face in their integration process within Sweden in relation to their gender, racial, and migrant social positions. This study utilised the heuristic model of integration processes proposed by Spencer and Charsley, to examine the structural, social, and identity dimensions through an intersectional lens.
Sweden, often perceived as a progressive and inclusive destination for LGBTQ migrants, presents a different narrative when delving into the genuine experiences of trans migrants at the crossroads of various social positions. This study revealed that the lived experiences of trans-African migrants in Sweden are characterised by intersectional discrimination due to their gender identity, race, and migrant social positions. These discriminatory experiences manifest in the structural dimension, impacting their access to healthcare services and the labour market. Simultaneously, this infiltrates the social dimension, affecting interactions within broader society, as well as in their home country diaspora and African communities. Consequently, this leads to a heightened sense of insecurity and precarity from unstable incomes, uncertainty and discomfort in healthcare settings, and the fear of unveiling one’s gender to strangers. Moreover, these experiences take a toll on participants’ mental well-being. Socially, trans-African migrants find themselves isolated from transnational family connections, isolated within their home country diaspora and migrant communities, and often lacking the support of local LGBTQ organisations. These factors have a profound impact on their sense of self, as well as their sense of belonging. However, despite these challenges, participants exhibit agency, resilience, and optimism.
Miles Tanhira
Miles Rutendo Tanhira is a Zimbabwean-Swedish International Migration researcher and Founder of Queerstion Media. He is a peace and LGBTQI+ rights activist and a core team member of the European Coalition of Migrants and Refugees. His achievements include being one of the recipients of the European Parliament´s Intergroup on LGBTQI+ rights' Go Visible Award and being selected as one of the Human Rights Campaign´s Global Innovators. He has served on several voluntary boards, including the War Resisters International (WRI) from 2010-2019 where he contributed to the Handbook for Non-Violent Campaigns 2nd edition. Miles is also a committee/forum member of the European Philanthropic Initiative for Migration and a certified speaker for the UNHCR Speakers Programme 2024. Additionally, he is an AI ethicist with a keen interest in the intersection of migration and AI technologies.
[1] Edward J Alessi and Sarilee Kahn, ‘A framework for clinical practice with sexual and gender minority asylum seekers’ (2017) 4(4) Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity 383; Nate Fuks et al, ‘Acculturation Experiences Among Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Immigrants in Canada’ (2018) 46(3) The Counseling Psychologist 296.
[2] Edward J Alessi et al, ‘Traumatic stress among sexual and gender minority refugees from the Middle East, North Africa, and Asia who fled to the European Union’ (2018) 31(6) Journal of Traumatic Stress 805-815; Susan SY Li, Belinda J Liddell, and Angela Nickerson, ‘The Relationship Between Post-Migration Stress and Psychological Disorders in Refugees and Asylum Seekers’ (2016) 18 Current Psychiatry Reports; Matthew Porter and Nick Haslam, ‘Predisplacement and postdisplacement factors associated with mental health of refugees and internally displaced persons: a meta-analysis’ (2005) 294(5) JAMA 602; Sarilee Kahn et al, ‘Facilitating Mental Health Support for LGBT Forced Migrants: A Qualitative Inquiry’ (2018) 96(3) Journal of Counseling & Development 316.
[3] Katherine Marie Fobear, ‘Accordion homes: lesbian, gay, bisexual and trans (LGBT) refugees' experiences of home and belonging in Canada’ (Univesity of British Columbia PhD Thesis 2016).
[4] Edward Ou Jin Lee et al, ‘Knowledge and Policy About LGBTQI Migrants: A Scoping Review of the Canadian and Global Context’ (2021) 22(3) Journal of International Migration and Integration 831; Zoë Korten, ‘Queer Migration Perspectives: Identity construction and experiences of social inclusion and exclusion of LGBTQ refugees in Sweden’ (Malmö University Masters Thesis 2019).
[5] Jasmine Golembe et al, ‘Experiences of Minority Stress and Mental Health Burdens of Newly Arrived LGBTQ* Refugees in Germany’ (2020) 18 Sexuality Research and Social Policy 1049; Katrina Struthers, ‘LGBTI Refugee Protection in a Culture of Disbelief: The impact of integration’ (RLI Working Paper No. 50, 2020) <https://www.sogica.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/LGBTI-Refugees-UK-2020-RLI-Working-Paper.pdf> accessed 1 November 2024; Alexander Dhoest, ‘Learning to be gay: LGBTQ forced migrant identities and narratives in Belgium’ (2018) 45(7) Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 1075; Linda Piwowarczyk, Pedro Fernandez, and Anita Sharma, ‘Seeking Asylum: Challenges Faced by the LGB Community’ (2016) 19 Journal of Immigrant and Minority Health 723; Soumia Akachar, ‘Stuck between Islamophobia and Homophobia: Applying Intersectionality to Understand the Position of Gay Muslim Identities in the Netherlands’ (2015) 2(1-2) DiGeSt. Journal of Diversity and Gender Studies 173; Sabine Jansen and Thomas Spijkerboer, ‘Fleeing Homophobia, Asylum Claims Related to Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity in Europe’ (COC Netherlands and VU University Amsterdam, September 2011) <https://research.vu.nl/ws/portalfiles/portal/2903587/Fleeing+Homophobia+report+EN.pdf> accessed 1 November 2025.
[6] Yvon van der Pijl et al, ‘“We Do Not Matter”: Transgender Migrants/Refugees in the Dutch Asylum System’ (2018) 5(1) Violence and Gender 1; Jutathorn Pravattiyagul, ‘Thai transgender women in Europe: Migration, gender and binational relationships’ (2021) 30(1) Asian and Pacific Migration Journal 79; Fau Rosati et al, ‘Experiences of Life and Intersectionality of Transgender Refugees Living in Italy: A Qualitative Approach’ (2021) 18 Int J Environ Res Public Health.
[7] Rosati et al (n 6); Catrine Kostenius et al, ‘From Hell to Heaven? Lived experiences of LGBTQ migrants in relation to health and their reflections on the future’ (2021) 24(11) Culture, Health & Sexuality 1590.
[8] Alessi and Kahn (n 1) 11; Edward J Alessi, ‘Resilience in sexual and gender minority forced migrants: A qualitative exploration’ (2016) 22(3) Traumatology 203.
[9] Korten (n 4).
[10] ‘Number of Refugees to Europe Surges to Record 1.3 Million in 2015’ (Pew Research Center, 2 August 2016) <https://www.pewresearch.org/global/2016/08/02/number-of-refugees-to-europe-surges-to-record-1-3-million-in-2015/> accessed 1 November 2024.
[11] See Korten (n 4) 16.
[12] Korten (n 4); Debra Carroll-Beight and Markus Larsson, ‘Exploring the Needs, Expectations, and Realities of Mental Healthcare for Transgender Adults: A Grounded Theory Study on Experiences in Sweden’ (2018) 3(1) Transgender Health 88; Aino Gröndahl, ‘Reasons for Refusal in LGBTQI Asylum Cases’ (RSFL 2020).
[13] Paulie Amanita Calderon-Cifuentes, ‘Trans Discrimination in Europe. A TGEU analysis of the FRA LGBTI Survey 2019’ (TGEU, 2021) <https://www.tgeu.org/files/uploads/2023/11/TGEU-trans-discrimination-report-2021.pdf> accessed 1 November 2024.
[14] Statens Offentliga Utredningar (SOU), ‘Transpersoner i Sverige: Förslag för stärkt ställning och bättre levnadsvillkor’ (Regeringen.se, 2017) <https://www.regeringen.se/contentassets/3e2e892900fc4034a9d822413fdaefe7/transpersoner-i-sverige---forslag-for-starkt-stallning-och-battre-levnadsvillkor/> accessed 1 November 2024.
[15] Sarah Spencer and Katharine Charsley, ‘Reframing ‘integration’: acknowledging and addressing five core critiques’ (2021) 9 Comparative Migration Studies.
[16] ibid 16.
[17] ibid 17.
[18] Kimberlé Crenshaw, ‘Demarginalizing intersections of race and sex: a black feminist critique of
anti-discrimination doctrine, feminist theory and anti-racist politics’ (1989) 1(8) Chicago Legal Forum 139, 145.
[19] Sandra Fredman, ‘Intersectional discrimination in EU gender equality and non-discrimination law’ (EQUINET, May 2016) <https://www.equalitylaw.eu/downloads/3850-intersectional-discrimination-in-eu-gender-equality-and-non-discrimination-law-pdf-731-kb> accessed 1 November 2024. See also Sumi Cho, Kimberlé Crenshaw, and Leslie McCall, ‘Toward a Field of Intersectionality Studies: Theory, Applications, and Praxis’ (2013) 38(4) Signs 785.
[20] Crenshaw (n 18) 140
[21] See Emily Bariola et al, ‘Demographic and Psychosocial Factors Associated With Psychological Distress and Resilience Among Transgender Individuals’ (2015) 105(10) Am J Public Health, 2108; Lauren Mizock et al, ‘Transphobia in the Workplace: A Qualitative Study of Employment Stigma’ (2018) 3(3) Stigma and Health 275.
[22] European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights (FRA), ‘Being Trans in the European Union Comparative analysis of EU LGBT survey data’ (2014) <https://www.tgeu.org/files/uploads/2023/11/TGEU-trans-discrimination-report-2021.pdf> accessed 1 November 2024.
[23] Spencer and Charsley (n 15) 18.
[24] SOU (n 14).
[25] Nick Drydakis,‘Trans employees, transitioning, and job satisfaction‘ (2017) 98 Journal of Vocational Behavior 1; Nick Drydakis, ‘Trans people, well-being, and labor market outcomes’ (IZA, January 2024) <https://wol.iza.org/articles/trans-people-well-being-and-labor-market-outcomes/long> accessed 1 November 2024.
[26] See Van Der Pijl et al (n 6).
[27] Maggie O'Neill and Phil Hubbard, ‘Asylum, Exclusion, and the Social Role of Arts and Culture’ (2012) 12(2) Moving Worlds.
[28] Sunil Budhiraja, Ujjwal Kumar Pathak, and Neeraj Kaushik, ‘A framework for untapped creativity: leveraging components of individual creativity for organizational innovation’ (2017) 31(6) Development and Learning in Organizations: An International Journal 7.
[29] SOU (n 14) 45.
[30] ibid; FRA (n 22).
[31] Beight and Larsson (n 12).
[32] Golembe et al (n 5).
[33] Spencer and Charsley (n 15) 18
[34] ibid 16.
[35] B Camminga, Transgender Refugees and the Imagined South Africa (Palgrave Macmillan 2019) 227.
[36] Spencer and Charsley (n 15) 16.
[37] Kostenius et al (n 7).
[38] Alessi (n 8), Rosati et al (n 6); Kostenius et al (n 7).
[39] Alessi (n 8).