13 February 26
ACON Westie
Blossoms of Prosperity: Lunar New Queer
The following ‘From the Area’ story has been produced as part of a collaboration with ACON Westie, aiming to highlight stories and experiences of LGBTQ+ people from Western Sydney. Read Mai Nguyen’s story below, and connect with the ACON Westie community on Instagram, TikTok and Facebook.
Chức Mừng Năm Mới, Happy New Year
Tết, the yearly festival where Vietnamese families and loved ones come together to celebrate the Lunar New Year, welcome renewal and pray for each other’s health, happiness and prosperity.
Powerful and rhythmic lion dancers parade through the crowded streets of Cabramatta, commanded by thundering drums and clashing cymbals. Echoes of children’s excited screams and laughter dance across the piercing pops of the firecrackers. Bright sparks obliterate the crimson paper, its shredded remnants suspended in the white smoke laced with the sharp scent of gunpowder.
Each year, my family and I would visit Chùa Pháp Bảo, a humble Buddhist temple in Bonnyrigg, to pray. In the courtyard, there is a small pond with a tall, white, concrete statue of Quan Thế Âm Bồ Tát (also known as Guanyin in Chinese or Avalokiteśvara in Sanskrit), the Boddhisatva of Great Compassion. She levitates above the pink lotus flowers and lily pads growing out of the muddy water. In the Buddhist tradition, Quan Âm is known for unconditional compassion, love, mercy and kindness, having chosen not to enter Nirvana and remain on earth to help all living beings be liberated from suffering and attain enlightenment.
Below her feet are towers of oranges carefully balanced on delicate plates, beautiful arrangements of flowers pouring out of vases, and a blue, ornate pot with sandalwood incense rising from the top, a small glow burning at its ends and releasing ribbons of smoke. I light three sticks of incense and hold them up to my head, the warm embers at their tips slowly creeping down towards my fingers, falling ash gently caressing my skin. Standing in quiet reverence with my eyes closed, I pray to Quan Âm for protection, guidance and healing for my family, loved ones, and myself – the aromatic smoke carries my whispers between the physical and spiritual worlds.
Praying for happiness
For years, my parents struggled to understand my transness – known but not acknowledged. The silence around my transness resembled the dust scattered throughout our home, waiting to be swept out along with last year’s misfortunes before the eve of the Lunar New Year. I myself also struggled to find the confidence to have these conversations with my parents – unequipped with language to explain my transness in a way that connects with them and with Vietnamese culture. It was not until one fleeting kitchen-counter conversation that awakened my Mum while she was preparing herbs and spices.
“Mum, you know how you taught me that Quan Âm can transform and appear as any form, person or gender when she’s helping others?”
“Mmm hm?”
“Well, that’s kind of like me, kind of what being trans is like.”
My Mum’s heart began to soften, and conversations around my transness began to open up with curiosity. There was an emerging understanding that roots of gender diversity can be found tangled beneath the soil of our culture and spirituality.
Praying for prosperity
When I was born, my parents gifted me with the spirit of Lunar New Year through my birth name, Lộc, which means “good fortune” or “prosperity”, often symbolised at Tết as red pockets or hanging charms. While I searched for a name that affirms my womanhood, I never had the desire to entirely strip myself of my birth name. This did not feel true to my gender affirmation or my need to honour and preserve my connection to family, culture and the blessings I have received through my birth name.
During the months of Tết, the yellow apricot blossoms (Hoa Mai) bloom across South Vietnam and pink peach blossoms (Hoa Đào) bloom across the North. As a child, I would stand beneath the Mai blossom trees at the temple, mesmerised by the beauty of their golden petals. My eyes would trace the luminous branches adorned with shiny red pockets and charms like ruby-jewelled fruit, bringing Lộc and good fortune.
Lộc, fortune.
Mai, blossom.
Together, they bloom and renew each Lunar New Year.
That’s it, that’s my name.
Nguyễn Lộc Mai
Praying for health
Two years ago, I decided to take the step in starting feminising hormone treatments. During my first appointment, I waited nervously in the clinic to take my blood tests, my pathology request form and Medicare card folded up and held tightly in my hands.
[NAME]: Loc Tan Nguyen
[SEX]: M
[TESTS REQUESTED]: estradiol (E2), testosterone, liver function, renal function, full blood count, lipids
My body was slightly shaking. My chest felt both gravity and weightlessness. Anxiety possessed my body. Uncertain about the healthcare experience I was about to receive. Am I going to be misgendered? Am I going to be judged? Am I going to be confronted by looks of confusion or contempt?
The nurse opens the door and calls out my number.
“Number 8”.
When I enter the room, she notices the jade Quan Âm (Guanyin) necklace around my neck, which was gifted to my Mum by her parents, and then my Mum to me.
“Is that Guanyin?”, the nurse asks.
“Yes – it is!”, I replied.
“I love Guanyin!”
“I love her too. I feel like she’s been looking over me my whole life.”
“Same! I think more people can benefit from her teachings of love and compassion. Did you also know that Guanyin was represented as male when Buddhism first originated around Nepal, India and Tibet, and eventually when Buddhism moved eastward to China and Vietnam, she became female?”
“No, I didn’t know this!”
“People say that the spirit of Guanyin can appear in any form to help people in their times of need. Today, you’re my Guanyin.”
“And today, you are mine.”
Mai Nguyen works in public health, specialising in LGBTIQ+ health for transgender and multicultural communities. She combines professional expertise with lived experience to develop inclusive health policies and programs at the intersections of culture, gender, and healthcare. Mai is also an artist and performer, having presented work with Worship Queer Collective, Asia TOPA, Sydney World Pride, Performance Space’s Day For Night, Queer Art After Hours at the Art Gallery of NSW, 4A Centre for Contemporary Asian Art and Liverpool Powerhouse.