‘There are no safe spaces for us.’
This statement was voiced during a recent workshop that we organised in Myanmar, echoing a sentiment shared by the sex worker and queer community representatives who participated in it. Sadly, it reflects the truth: for many marginalised communities, safety often feels out of reach.
Personal and structural
Everyone knows what it feels like to be safe or unsafe. In one session, we invited participants to reflect on moments, situations, or spaces in which they felt safe and unsafe. Answers in the ‘safe’ category included: ‘open sexuality’, ‘religious spaces’, ‘trusted friends and family’, ‘openness to share thoughts’, and ‘no oppression’. In the ‘unsafe’ category, the responses range from ‘checkpoints’, ‘being drug users in religious spaces’, ‘abusive partner’, ‘HIV-related discrimination’, to ‘unfamiliar places’.
As these examples evidence, experiences of safety and lack thereof are universal. Though they can be highly personal and subjective, the patterns are not random. They are tied with power dynamics shaped by class, gender, age, ethnicity, illegality, and more.
A young woman who uses drugs might not feel safe even in her own home — and that very lack of safety can contribute to her using drugs in the first place. A sex worker may never feel safe with the police, who can weaponise their power to harass and abuse them. A trans woman experiences violence, even when she does everything “correctly” — from make-up to outfits’ to be recognised in her womanhood, as one participant sharply pointed out. These are not coincidences. They are symptoms of structural violence: the systemic way how institutions, norms, and policies harm certain groups and push them to the margins.
In Myanmar, sex work is illegal, same-sex relations are criminalised as ‘unnatural acts’, and laws and policies around ‘obscenity’ and ‘tradition’ are used to censor and punish gender diversity. Combined with punitive drug laws, surveillance, and extreme socioeconomic inequality, safety is not just rare. It becomes like a luxury that people must build for themselves.
Complexity in the Myanmar context
The multiple ‘live’ crises in Myanmar make things even more complex. It’s not just about gender, or sexuality, or drugs. All of it is tied to larger systems—militarisation, censorship, economic collapse and exploitation, disasters, and more.
‘When we organise, we almost get heart attacks. We are under constant pressure,’ explained one participant. In today’s Myanmar, it is no exaggeration to say that there is no truly safe space. Young people live in fear of premature death due to ongoing conflict, forced military conscription or displacement. All gatherings run the risk of being labelled as politically subversive. Electricity cuts out every day – sometimes leaving people in literal darkness for hours. And surveillance occurs both online and offline.
Community organisers have grown accustomed to being extra cautious. Some may say it is paranoia, but it is not because the danger is real.
Safe spaces as shared practice
Despite these seemingly insurmountable challenges, our workshop discussion shows that safe spaces can be created together. Workplaces, service centres, gatherings, and other settings can all be made more inclusive. After all, marginalised communities like women who use drugs, queer and trans communities, sex workers, and people living with HIV are already experts at building safe spaces at the margins. They do so creatively, even when everything is stacked against them.
Safety is not just a principle — it needs more than good intentions and kind words. Safety is a collective practice.
‘We, sex workers, are also family,’ said one of the leading figures in Myanmar’s sex workers movement. Here, she reminded us that we need to end the criminalisation of sex work, similar to calls to end homophobic policies. She and other community members also talked about how important it is to promote acceptance and understanding at the neighbourhood and family level. One person warmly shared their experience growing up with a kind mother who embraces their queerness. Another added, ‘as a sex worker who is also a head of household, my mother shows a positive image.’
Participants identified many more ways to build safe spaces for people pushed to the margins. For example, in service provision settings, these include SOGIESC* awareness training for staff, confidentiality policies, and specific outreach for women who use drugs and for rural youth. At the organisational level, many recommended peer-to-peer models that shift power and resources to affected communities. The need for LGBTQ+ people in leadership and healthcare positions was also highlighted. As one person put it, ‘LGBTQ+ people need to constantly deal with [cis-]heterosexual male doctors’, who are often judgmental and discriminatory.
At the family level, it is about small but significant shifts in how we relate to one another. We need to swap shame with curiosity and respect. One young person boldly said, ‘older people should stop saying ‘when we were young…’ and then compare us with how they used to live.’
‘We are doing a good deed’
The phrase ‘this is a safe space’ seems to be commonplace these days. It can have different meanings for different people. It should never be imposed without reflection. Instead, it should invite people to ask questions, be curious, and meaningfully connect with each other. Crucially, it is not about eliminating differences or disagreements. But making space to navigate them with care and respect.
As stated by one participant, ‘some drug users develop paranoia that they will get arrested. I assured them they are under protection, and God will keep you safe … but deep down I am also scared. I try to comfort myself and tell myself it will not happen… We are not doing anything bad. We are doing a good deed… Don’t let our insecurity prevent us from doing what we want to do.’
Through our lively discussions we learned that no space will be a hundred per cent safe, but it can be made safer. To do so is our collective responsibility, especially for those whose voices are continually discredited. Building safe spaces is not about avoiding or eliminating all risks, but ensuring we move in solidarity.
Notes
*SOGIESC: Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Expressions, and Sex Characteristics