India Just Passed A Trans Rights Bill. Why Are Trans Activists Protesting It? npr.org, December 4, 2019 ​ The new legislation purports to protect transgender rights — but many trans activists say it does the exact opposite. They say it's a huge blow to India's already vulnerable transgender community and undoes a lot of progress made over the past few years. The bill comes just over a year after the Indian Supreme Court's landmark decision to decriminalize homosexuality. ​ At a news conference in Delhi a day after the bill was passed, transgender activist Grace Banu described it as a "murder of gender justice." The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) bill prohibits discrimination against transgender persons with regard to things like education, employment and the ability to rent or buy property. It also gives transgender persons a "right to self-perceived identity" — but requires them to register with the government if they want to be officially recognized as "transgender." If a transgender person identifies as a trans man or trans woman and wants to be legally recognized as such, they have to submit proof of gender confirmation surgery to the government. Trans activist Gee Imaan Semmalar says the identity registration requirement flouts a landmark 2014 ruling by India's Supreme Court which recognized the right to choose gender. "The bill goes against the right to dignity and bodily autonomy of trans people," Semmalar wrote to NPR in an email. He's a member of Sampoorna Working Group, an advocacy organization for transgender and intersex rights. "You're basically putting a lot of burden on trans people and adding a lot of bureaucratic layers and red-tapeism," says Ajita Banerjie, a Delhi-based gender and sexuality rights researcher. Banerjie added that the bill fails to mention civil rights like marriage, adoption, social security benefits and also does not provide quotas for transgender people in public education and jobs — something that the Supreme Court's 2014 ruling had directed the government to do. Transgender individuals in India often face stigma and systematic exclusion in education and employment. As a result, some feel they have no alternative but to turn to sex work; HIV prevalence among India's transgender community is 26 times higher than the national rate. But Semmalar says it's difficult to access health care without facing discrimination. Trans individuals also face disproportionate public violence and police brutalities, he adds. The bill makes abusing transgender people a punishable offense with a jail term from six months to two years. But under Indian law, when a cisgender (that is, a person whose gender identity matches their sex at birth) woman or child is sexually abused, the punishment can be as severe as a life sentence or, in some cases, even the death penalty. Semmalar says the lesser punishment for crimes against transgender people reiterates and strengthens the idea that trans lives are dispensable and of lesser value. Even among lawmakers, the bill was contentious. "Certification itself is discrimination. It's humiliation of a human being," Jaya Bachchan, a member of India's upper house of parliament, said during a session last week. Bachchan was among dozens of lawmakers who wanted to send the bill to a select committee for further review. Other lawmakers argued that sending the bill for review would further delay the protection of transgender rights. "Justice delayed is justice denied," said lawmaker Anil Agrawal, who supported the immediate passing of the bill, in parliament last week. "The transgender community will never forgive us if we delay granting them their rights." Another lawmaker who was against sending the bill for review insisted that any important points that had been missed could easily be added as amendments later. In a last-ditch attempt to stop the bill, activists are urging India's president not to sign it into law. If that fails, they're gearing up to challenge the law in India's courts. In 2014, in a massive victory for India's roughly half a million trans individuals, the country's Supreme Court recognized transgender as a third, separate identity and ruled that Indians have the right to choose their gender. But this bill sets the whole movement back by a decade, Banerjie says. Alternative to expensive housing in California : Van Life The Mercury News, by Sammy Caila, August 27, 2019 ​ A young man in a black windbreaker perches on the roof of his Dodge Sprinter van, looks out at the sunlit creek, and thinks about getting dinner started. The 31-year-old, who goes by Travis Wild, has been living out of the van for the last three years, ticking off daily to-do lists in his tiny household between long stretches of road. He’s not a trucker or a fugitive, just a new brand of nomad wandering the Golden State under the “van life” banner, seeking a different California dream than the previous generation. Inside the Sprinter, which Wild has repaneled with glossy pine, he rummages through tucked-away compartments for a bowl, a pot and a strainer. He grabs a metal knife from a magnetic strip on the wall — a space saver in the vehicle’s 105-square-foot interior. His sleeping platform sits a few feet above the bamboo floor, tucked between rows of bolted-in bookshelves that make the van feel like a secret attic. Its back doors open to whatever Wild calls a backyard for the day. Tonight it’s a narrow strip of the South Yuba River flanked by smooth gray stones and tall, dry grass. “I’m really fortunate, I’ve gotten to live a really interesting life,” he says. “I’m never bored. I’m always a bit stressed about it.” A growing enclave of millennials is choosing van life as an alternative to a 9-to-5 job and a mortgage. These are young professionals — artists, web developers, accountants — who want the freedom to explore without the pressure of punching time cards and keeping busy social schedules. Their community exists both online and off, with a hashtag ​ that dominates Instagram and roadside meetups across the state. At the same time, California’s housing crisis has forced hundreds of people, particularly in the Bay Area and Los Angeles, to move into their vehicles just to get by. These van-and-car dwellers park on city streets, college campuses and in ​ ​ parking lots in hopes of staying under the radar. “The two are related, in the sense that, particularly in California, … homes have become unaffordable,” said Morley Winograd, a USC scholar who studies millennials. “The solution is ‘I can’t find more income, and, therefore, I’m going to cut costs by living a nomadic life’. Or people simply don’t have a choice.” Local governments are grappling with the growing number of people sleeping in cars. The city of San Diego just passed a ban on people living in vehicles, and both ​ voluntary campers and homeless individuals are putting up a fight. ​ Part-time van lifer Noel Russell, of Oakland, showed up at a Berkeley City Council meeting recently to contest a similar ban. She says it’s crucial for people who choose ​ ​ to live a mobile lifestyle to acknowledge the hardship of those doing it out of necessity. “There’s abundant privilege in the ability to choose how you want your life to be,” she said. She and her husband work in the homeless services sector and are thinking of turning their weekend adventure van into a full-time home, because they’re fed up ​ ​ with Bay Area rents and prefer to live small. The average monthly rent for a two-bedroom apartment is $3,102 in San Francisco and $1,755 in Los Angeles, according to an ApartmentList analysis of U.S. Census Bureau data. ​ ​ But Russell says people who become transient after being priced out of their neighborhoods have more important stories to tell. “Why don’t we listen to voices from that community?” she said. “I really think we need to hear from people who aren’t taking beautiful pictures out of the backs of their vans.” The mostly 20-and-30-somethings that flock toward van life see it as a double-win—a way to save on rent money while pursuing bucket list experiences. Most van lifers spend between $100 and $500 a month in gas and less than $30 a month on campsites in addition to other expenses, according to a survey from ​ Outbound Living, a van life news site. Roughly 87 percent work while on the road. “Remote work has become more available to people,” said Kathleen Morton, who wrote a book on the van life movement. “It’s an affordable housing option.” ​ ​ Morton also helps organize the handful of van life events that happen across the country each year. She said the first gathering in 2015 had just 60 people. Now, they each draw several hundred attendees. Van conversion companies are popping up all over California, and the number of ​ Instagram posts tagged with the movement’s hashtag has passed 5 million. Sales ​ figures for the Mercedes Sprinter, a popular van life vehicle, continue to rise. In ​ ​ 2018, Sprinter sales topped 29,700 vehicles, an increase of more than 2,100 from the previous year. Warm weather, abundant outdoor recreation and lots of public land make the Golden State a hotspot for the movement. So does the strong base of people already doing it. “A lot of these people are looking for community, because life on the road can be really lonely,” Morton says. “I’ve seen a lot of community in California ….