Lunar New Year is upon us and it’s the year of the Wood Dragon – a time of celebrating health and prosperity with those closest to you. An annual 15-day cultural tradition, Lunar New Year marks the beginning of spring and the arrival of the new year.
For many of us, celebrations centred around family and heritage can be a difficult time, whether it’s down to identity reasons or not, but that doesn’t always have to be the case. Togetherness – no matter what that looks like to you – can be found in ways that allow all aspects of your identity to feel seen.
So, to mark the Year of the Dragon, we spoke to members of the LGBTQIA+ ESEA community – across London, Malaysia, Madrid and China – to hear how they unite cultural tradition and their queer identities as they get ready to celebrate the Lunar New Year.
Jojo, 32, who spends time across London and Malaysia, connects with her queerness and East Asian community through parties in the UK capital and underground queer events in Kuala Lumpur. “I try to attend queer community Lunar New Year parties in London such as GGI 끼 who are putting on a night with Eastern Margins. While I’m celebrating Lunar New Year in Malaysia, I’ve been able to attend local underground queer events,” she says. “Despite the limitations on the queer community in Malaysia, these experiences are some I’ll never forget.”
The significance of coming together can be found in discreet raves (or punk parties in Jojo’s case), however, for London-based Bóxī, 32, Lunar New Year is all about reconnecting with the queer community and tradition. Lunar New Year has helped them “explore” what it means to be lesbian, non-binary and Asian-Australian. “I’ve found a queer Asian community who have made me feel able to merge those aspects of my identity,” they share. “This involves re-connecting with Lunar New Year traditions from my childhood, mostly around food, watching the CCTV New Year’s Gala, and spoiling the younger folks in my family with red bags, a tradition which symbolises luck and happiness, and gifts.”
Queerness has helped me learn more about my culture and, through it, I feel closer to my biological family and history
This year, for Year of the Dragon, Bóxī – who is also part of the Baesianz community – has plans to amp up queer Lunar New Year celebrations with XX and hitting up a queer ESEA rave. “This year my partner and I are having our queer Asian community over for a vegan hotpot and mahjong,” they say. “Queerness has helped me learn more about my culture and, through it, I feel closer to my biological family and history, which has also been a special experience these past few years. Also, looking hot at an ESEA rave helps too.”
YZ, 23, currently lives in Madrid and, for her, Lunar New Year is all about killer red eyeliner and celebrating with food tied to her heritage. “I like to do New Year’s dinner together with as many of the traditional dishes as possible: dumplings, fish, and noodles,” she says.
Outside of sharing dishes, YZ checks in with queer friends to ensure they’re able to feel acknowledged during celebrations. “Lunar New Year can be a very hard time for some of my queer friends who are less close with their families, so showing up for them that way is important to me,” she explains. “Growing up as a queer Chinese person, there was very little representation. I never got to see someone like me be accepted by their family. My queer joy is getting to see it in my own life and knowing that my parents support me regardless of my sexuality.”
Enema Stone, 25, is a singer and resident drag queen at Medusa in Shanghai. Lunar New Year can be difficult for Enema – “You have to turn it down a couple of notches” due to conservative attitudes — there is more snow than people in 双鸭山 (ShuangYaShan)” – but she has been able to find moments of queer joy and celebrate with the community. “Lunar New Year is really high camp – the costumes, the new clothes people are wearing, the hairdos, but the fireworks truly look like a music festival if you’re out of town. It’s really something you’ve never seen!”
Lunar New Year is really high camp – the costumes, the new clothes people are wearing, the hairdos, but the fireworks truly look like a music festival if you’re out of town. It’s really something you’ve never seen!
Similarly, for Sky, the co-founder and host of Medusa, he has found ways to make his heritage and queerness feel seen. “I hang out with my friends mostly, especially a lot of my trans and queer friends who don’t want to go back and deal with a lot of family pressures especially about dating, and all that,” he says. “I always like to have my own queer New Year at my house and celebrate it with my friends.”
Lunar New Year can be a hard time for those who feel unable to celebrate their queerness and may have to present more subtly, as Enema mentions earlier. The flux of presenting culturally and within your queerness can be an “emotional burden” for the ESEA community especially those that want to hold onto their roots as well as their queer identity.
You share your identity piece by piece with them. Many learn to love you for who you are and some just let it go
“Unfortunately, queerness is not exactly [seen as] a traditional value, and especially when you are spending a lot of time with a more conservative family, this is sort of your one chance a year to learn how to express yourself and let a little bit of your queerness out to them,” Sky explains. “You share your identity piece by piece with them. Many learn to love you for who you are and some just let it go.”
As Lunar New Year rolls around annually, LGBTQIA+ Asians have resiliently continued to find ways to celebrate both their heritage and queer identity. And for those in Shanghai, Enema offers an open invitation to celebrate Lunar New Year in the queerest of ways: “For all the girls who stay in Shanghai, you got to find someone who can cook, and have your own little dinner, and have a chosen family get-together, especially for my trans friends,” she says.”
