Lunar New Year Can Be Difficult for Queer Asians. Some Are Trying to Change That

For years, Joanne Chen didn’t celebrate Chinese New Year in a traditional way, limiting her visits to relatives as much as she could. As a queer Singaporean, one of the country’s most important holidays often brought with it pointed questions and unwanted judgment from extended family.

Now, as the center manager of an LGBTQ+ community organization called Proud Spaces, Chen wants to create a safe space for other queer people in Singapore to commemorate the new year, which begins on Jan. 29 this year and officially runs for three days. The community event will take place on the first day and invites attendees to make dumplings, eat hotpot, and toss lohei—common new year traditions. [time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]

Read More: 5 Things to Know About Lunar New Year and How It’s Celebrated Across Asia

Much of the holiday centers around family and tradition, with a reunion dinner that brings together extended family typically held the evening before the first day and the next three days typically involving visits to relatives and friends’ houses. But even as Thailand made history last week by becoming the first Southeast Asian country and third place in Asia (after Taiwan and Nepal) to legalize same-sex marriage, many queer people across East and Southeast Asia still grapple with largely conservative societies and traditional households—a dynamic that often comes to a head during holiday periods.

But queer people across Asia are finding new ways to embrace the holiday rather than to dread it. Some have found solace in drag dance parties from Manila to Bangkok; others turn to Vietnam-based radio show Genderfunk, or attend underground events. And Chen’s Proud Spaces event is pioneering an alternative, public space for the LGBTQ+ community to still celebrate the New Year in a traditional way.

“Ultimately, it’s about family,” Chen tells TIME. “We want people to come with their chosen family. We want people to come and make new friends, and maybe they will become chosen family. It’s just having that alternative for queer people.”

Turning to and away from tradition

Kit Hung, an artist and filmmaker in his 40s from Hong Kong, recalled how before coming out as a gay man in the ’90s, certain aspects of family tradition made him feel like he had to hide who he is. His mother, for example, asked him for a photo of him with a girl so that she could show it to relatives when they ask if he is seeing anyone. After coming out, Hung felt like his mere presence at the reunion dinner table made others go silent.

Even decades later, living in London and married to his partner, Hung says he gets nervous when he returns to Hong Kong. “I would doubt whether I will hold hands with my partner when we’re in Hong Kong,” Hung tells TIME. But over the last few years, Hung has found himself using Chinese tradition to become more open about his identity. For example, he decided to send red packets to the children and relatives of friends in Hong Kong—a practice that married people follow—to publicly affirm his relationship with his husband.

This year, Hung is having a small celebration with immediate family, including his husband, who are living in or visiting him in London.

Celebrating with ‘chosen family’

Koh An Ting, who opened queer micropress and bookstore Rainbow Lapis Press in Singapore last year, will be one of the attendees of Chen’s event. Koh tells TIME that the event is an opportunity for her to celebrate freely, without needing to hide parts of herself. Many queer people in Singapore might feel like they can’t bring their partners along to family celebrations, she says, but at an event like this, you get to celebrate with your “chosen family.” Tomorrow, Koh is bringing her girlfriend along.

According to Chen, attendees will range from people who want a reprieve from relatives’ questions to people looking for a community. Around half are expected to be expats who don’t have the option of going home to celebrate.

Seth Hoo is planning to have his own dinner with friends in addition to attending family events this Chinese New Year. He hadn’t heard about the Proud Spaces event before, but he thinks it sounds fun and fills a need within Singapore’s queer community for a safe space to celebrate “without the stress of having any microaggressions” or needing to explain yourself. As a Gen-Z Singaporean, Hoo tells TIME that he and his friends aren’t interested in hiding who they are or trying to tiptoe around the subject. “We get to choose our own family.”