{"id":28303,"date":"2025-07-16T12:42:36","date_gmt":"2025-07-16T07:12:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/?p=28303"},"modified":"2025-07-16T12:42:38","modified_gmt":"2025-07-16T07:12:38","slug":"interview-raghavi-s","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/interview-raghavi-s\/","title":{"rendered":"Interview \u2013 Raghavi S"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><strong>Raghavi S<\/strong> is a lawyer who identifies as queer, is a transwoman, and is one of the first members of the trans community to practice as a lawyer in the Supreme Court of India. Key areas of her work focus include Law &amp; Policy, DEI and dispute resolution. Referring to her participation in an event at the Rainbow Literature Festival earlier this year, Raghavi <a href=\"https:\/\/www.linkedin.com\/posts\/raghavi-shukla-a41122171_rainbowliteraturefestival-queervoices-equality-activity-7283427050684653568-OSUg?utm_source=share&amp;utm_medium=member_desktop&amp;rcm=ACoAAAGh6goBBuhShcL-W6IE6_v2zLhJZYtG7K8\">highlights <\/a>\u201cthe importance of centering empathy, inclusivity, intersectionality, cross-movement solidarity, and justice in our systems, structures, and narratives.\u201d She is a recipient of the Lokmata Ahilyabai Holkar Mahila Samman \u2013 2025 award, given as recognition to honour women awardees for their work in social activism, governance and multiple other areas of achievement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong><em>Shikha Aleya (SA):<\/em><\/strong> <em>Raghavi, a big thank you, we are very happy to interview you for this issue of In Plainspeak on Language and Sexuality. Jumping right in with the first question, when you think about the role of language in your life, what thoughts come to mind? How has language been part of your experience of your self and your identity?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Raghavi S (RS): <\/strong>Thank you so much, Shikha. It\u2019s a pleasure. Language is fascinating and weird. For me, it has been both a site of struggle and a source of power. And when I think about language a little more, it becomes weirder. Because language has given so many wounds and scars to queer trans people, slurs and abuses \u2013 but then it can also heal. Lack of language to explain and express your experience, desire and being can be suffocating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Growing up, I didn\u2019t have access, like a lot of other queer folx, to the vocabulary that could hold the complexity of my gender or sexuality. I knew I was different, but I couldn\u2019t name that difference. Knowing and naming matters not because it simplifies us, but because it allows us to be legible to ourselves and to the world. The unknown causes fear. A fear of one\u2019s self as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In my case, the act of finding queer and trans-affirming vocabulary both in English and in the textures of my mother tongue, was like coming home to myself. I now see language as a site of resistance. I realised that the way we speak or refuse to speak can shape how we resist erasure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So, for me, language isn\u2019t just a communication tool. It\u2019s survival, affirmation, and resistance. It is how I\u2019ve learned to stake claim to space in a world that often writes people like me out of the frame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em><strong>SA: <\/strong>So beautifully, so well said, thank you. Raghavi, as one of the first transgender persons to be a practising lawyer in the Supreme Court of India, you are in a unique position to understand not just legal language, but the language of justice and enforcement as used on the ground. On the subject of sexuality and rights, what are your insights on how law and enforcement duty bearers use language to empower or to disempower individuals and communities?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>RS:<\/strong> That\u2019s such an important question. I often say that law isn\u2019t neutral; it speaks, and the language it speaks with has deep consequences. Legal language is supposed to be objective and precise, but in practice, it\u2019s deeply coded with power, and that power can either enable or alienate. Legal language is often wielded in ways that distance rather than connect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In my experience, particularly as a queer and trans person navigating the legal system, I\u2019ve seen how the very words used by law enforcement and courts can determine whether someone feels human or disposable. For instance, when a police officer insists on using someone&#8217;s deadname or refers to them with the wrong pronoun, it\u2019s not a small slip. It\u2019s a way of denying that person\u2019s existence, their truth, and their dignity. And this happens all too often.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Even judicial language is not immune. I remember reading older judgments where transgender persons were referred to using dehumanising terms and it struck me how language, even (and especially) when couched in legal lingo, can inflict violence. Thankfully, this is slowly changing. The NALSA judgment in 2014 was a turning point not just because it recognised the right to self-identification, but because of the care with which it spoke of dignity, autonomy, and constitutional morality. The use of the phrase \u201cthird gender\u201d I disapprove of, but what also stayed with me was the attempt to move away from silence and invisibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But that judgment is the exception, not the norm. On the ground, in police stations and district courts, language is often wielded as a tool of gatekeeping. People are told, \u201cThere\u2019s no case here\u201d when reporting sexual violence because their queerness is seen as deviance, not vulnerability. Trans women are frequently misgendered in custody records, FIRs, and medical examinations, and queer couples face ridicule when trying to file complaints about violence or forced separation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Language in the law also creates hierarchies between those who \u201cfit\u201d the narrative of the deserving victim and those who don\u2019t. The way law enforcement officers describe or interpret relationships between queer people often reflects their own discomfort. Sometimes, even just the refusal to say the word \u201cpartner\u201d or \u201clesbian\u201d or \u201ctransgender\u201d, instead resorting to euphemism or silence, becomes an act of erasure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>At the same time, I\u2019ve also seen how conscious shifts in language can create real change. I\u2019ve been part of sensitisation trainings where we\u2019ve discussed the use of respectful terminology, and you can see people begin to reframe their own biases. When a magistrate refers to a trans woman correctly, or a lawyer insists on affirming someone\u2019s identity in court, it sends a signal that language can be a tool for solidarity, not just surveillance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In the end, language is never just about words. It reveals whose lives are considered valuable, whose pain is considered real, and whose dignity is recognised. For queer and trans people, changing the language of the law isn\u2019t just symbolic, it\u2019s about survival. Change is slow, but not impossible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em><strong>SA:<\/strong> More on the use of language &#8211; in this <a href=\"https:\/\/m.youtube.com\/watch?v=IYg95Um1w9A\">interview<\/a> available online, you have briefly spoken of family support issues from your perspective, being the only child of a single parent. Do you feel that there is a language that families use, especially parents and children, that is based on assumptions and expectations? How does this language-of-family include or exclude some people?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>RS: Yes, absolutely. The language used in families is often built around assumptions about gender, duty, shame, and success, and these assumptions are rarely spoken aloud. But they shape everything. When a child is queer or trans, that language often becomes a weapon cloaked in care. In my own life, being raised by a single mother, I heard a lot of things like \u201cYou know how hard I\u2019ve worked to raise you\u201d or \u201cDon\u2019t bring shame to our name.\u201d These aren\u2019t just words, they\u2019re instruments of control, used to silence you under the guise of love and sacrifice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Families can bully without shouting. They can bully by using your vulnerabilities against you. reminding you of your financial dependence, your isolation, or your need for love \u2013 just to make you comply, to make you smaller. I&#8217;ve often felt that when I stood up for myself or expressed my identity, the response wasn&#8217;t direct rejection but a sort of guilt-laced silencing. The subtext was: \u201cHow dare you want more, when I gave you everything?\u201d That\u2019s not love. That\u2019s a way to neuter your sense of agency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For queer and trans kids, homes can become the first spaces of bullying, of policing, of trauma. We grow up believing family is where you are safest, but for many of us, that\u2019s simply not true. Homes are where many queer children first hear transphobic slurs, where your body, voice, mannerisms are mocked, corrected, ridiculed. Where silence is imposed, and shame is woven into everyday conversations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I say this not theoretically, but from lived experience. I was raised by a single mother. And despite everything she did for me, and all that I\u2019m grateful for, she has still not accepted me. It\u2019s not just that she disagrees with who I am, it\u2019s also that she lacks, or refuses, the language that could even begin to understand me. Words like transgender, affirmation, gender dysphoria, or even joy in queerness \u2013 they are either dismissed as \u201cWestern ideas\u201d or treated as threats to the identity she had imagined for me. There\u2019s a real fear in many families that if they understand, they will have to change. And so, they retreat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>But amidst all this chaos what has really saved me, and so many like me, are the communities and chosen families we\u2019ve built, people who affirm us without question, who see us without condition, and who speak a language of care, even when they\u2019re still learning the vocabulary. If our biological families refuse to speak our truths, then we have every right to find and create families that will.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em><strong>SA:<\/strong> Yes! Thank you for your time, and the generosity with which you have shared your insights. One last question. How can language, any language, become an enabler, supporting inclusion and empowerment across sectors? What can individuals and communities do in this context with the languages they use for work, play, entertainment and in other ordinary life settings?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>RS: <\/strong>Thank you for asking this. I truly believe that language is one of the most intimate things we share with one another, more than bodies, more than time. It\u2019s how we name the world, how we make meaning, how we let others know they exist and matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Language has never been neutral. It carries history, trauma, longing, power. And yet, it also carries immense potential for transformation. I often think about how much of queerness is about reclaiming language, taking words that were once used to shame us and turning them into flags, into poetry, into armour. Or even creating entirely new vocabularies for joy, love, family, and futures that don\u2019t yet exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I also think that inclusion begins in the everyday. It\u2019s not only about getting policies right, though that is important, it\u2019s also about what words we choose in a WhatsApp group, in classrooms, on stage, in memes, at dinner tables. Every time we normalise pronouns, every time we choose to not joke about someone\u2019s body or voice, every time we correct ourselves and move forward \u2013 we\u2019re creating more breathing space. Language that is open, curious, and respectful becomes a scaffolding for belonging. As communities, we need to listen, unlearn, and build vocabularies that are rooted in care. Because language is not just about saying \u2013 it\u2019s about showing up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Language can be a home, or a weapon. We each have a choice to build room with our words, or to shut people out with them. I choose to build room. I hope we all do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-right has-small-font-size\"><em>Cover image credit: Raghavi S. <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Language is one of the most intimate things we share with one another, more than bodies, more than time. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":102,"featured_media":28304,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,4719],"tags":[2497,66,1964,121,26,2134,4763,4759,4764,4760,4761,1001,71,4765,48,1950,2274,4762,68,25,783,45],"class_list":{"0":"post-28303","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-interview","8":"category-language-and-sexuality-2","9":"tag-chosen-family","10":"tag-desire","11":"tag-families-of-choice","12":"tag-feminism","13":"tag-gender","14":"tag-intersectionality","15":"tag-language-and-empowerment","16":"tag-language-and-gender","17":"tag-language-and-inclusivity","18":"tag-language-and-trans-identity","19":"tag-legal-language-and-inclusion","20":"tag-lgbtqia","21":"tag-love","22":"tag-nalsa-judgement","23":"tag-pleasure","24":"tag-queer-families","25":"tag-queer-identity","26":"tag-queerness-and-language","27":"tag-sex","28":"tag-sexualities","29":"tag-trans-identities","30":"tag-transgender"},"menu_order":0,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28303","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/102"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=28303"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28303\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":28387,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28303\/revisions\/28387"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/28304"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=28303"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=28303"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=28303"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}