What should we do little Bellas? 

I don’t know how to begin. Where I come from, duties like this are rarely entrusted to women, queer, or trans folks. It is always the ’man’ who speaks. Men!  But I’m writing this year’s Cinema Queer introduction. Yes, I’m writing it. Little Bella, look how far you gone. My interest in cinema starts with Pembe Hayat Kuirfest. Before that, I wasn’t familiar with the subject at all… Who would film the story of a fag or a tranny? That’s what I used to think. I grew up learning that our stories were not meant to be told—because where I come from, being queer or trans is deemed something terrible. You grow up carrying that weight. You know what I mean, my love; you grew up with it, too.

What should we do then? I think we should sneak through the cracks and destroy the patriarchy—oh well… We should make queer films. But not those “WHITE” ones. They should be based on REAL stories. For example, it should be the voice of little Bella, who was born in Adana. Or it should be that of Eylül Cansın, who departed saying, “Take good care of my dog.” No, I think it should be Hande Kader’s—she could say, for instance, “You’re filming us, but you’re not sharing it…”

Or it should be Ivana Hoffmann in Rojava, fighting against the oppressive mindset… Do you know who it should be? It should be Ahmet Yildiz—the one killed by his family down the street. It should be Rojin Çiçek, who was killed by his uncle. It should be Doğa Asi Çevik and Arev Omedya, who became victims of Turkey’s transphobic healthcare system. It should be the Orlando massacre. It should be me, it should be you! Know what? It should happen! It should just happen!

It should be Ali Gül and Gani Met—the cornerstones of transfeminism…

Marsha P. Johnson, the trans activist who stood at the forefront of anti-police resistance during the Stonewall uprising. We must establish organizations akin to the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (S.T.A.R.), which she co-founded with Sylvia Rivera in the early 1970s. By gathering food and clothing to sustain the young transvestites sheltered at S.T.A.R. House, Johnson became the ’Mother’ of that haven alongside Sylvia. In this lifetime, everyone should experience being a Trans Mother at least once.

The camera, for example, should go to refugee camps and deportation centers and record what’s happening there. Everyone must witness the atrocities committed against human rights there. Does that sound a bit harsh? Yes, it is! Because their story is our story. It must be told and documented. I have offered you merely a handful of names, well aware that every single day, somewhere in the world, an LGBTI+ life is stolen. That is precisely why we must host festivals, create cinema, and write our history with our own hands.

Indeed, trans people, queer people, transvestites, fags, —or in more academic language, LGBTI+ folks—I didn’t patch together a text full of glitter and colors for you this year.That does not mean we do not deserve them; we deserve them to the very core and in full measure. However, what I have set down here is our history, and our history must be relentlessly remembered, adapted into film, and archived so it can be passed on to the next generation. We must stand in firm solidarity with the directors and writers dedicated to accomplish these objectives. Above all, I offer my deepest gratitude to each of you for your solidarity this year.

My warmest regards with love and respect,
Bella Demhat aka Ms. K