This text that you are reading now should not have been written by me. It should have been by Gabi*. A name I gave her today, as a kind of tribute, even though I don’t actually know her real name—and unfortunately, I don’t even remember asking.

It was around 2017, coming back from a theater in Santa Cecília, late at night, when my wife and I encountered a trans woman living on the streets, very thin, underdressed for the cold of July, yet still carrying a feminine glow in her steps and voice that she had fought hard to achieve.

It was Gabi.

She emerged from her makeshift shelter to ask us for water and some cups of instant noodles from the nearby supermarket. We bought a few, in different flavors. The water was to heat up the meal. She would find a way to make fire.

The woman thanked us profusely and told us she would share each cup in two with her friends. Then she pointed in a direction behind her.

Behind dark tarps, their silhouettes appeared in the dim light of the street. There were many. We hadn’t even noticed.

And behind them, I imagined there were many more. And behind those, others. And behind those last ones, others in República, and others in Luz, and more in Bom Retiro. Trans people, travestis, homosexuals, bisexuals, queers… all over São Paulo. In Rio, in Minas, in the South, in the North… and we had never noticed.

***

Brasília, October 2023. After the law proposed in 2007 by Clodovil and recognized as victorious only in 2013 and 2017, the LGBTQIA+ population faces yet another setback: the Chamber is once again discussing the veto of civil marriage for same-sex couples.

Gabi was not present to protest. Her friends were not either. Many non-cisgender and non-heterosexual individuals were also absent. But Erika was there.

Kicked out of her home at 15 for the “sin” of being who she was, she lived with the travestis of Francisco Morato and had to resort to prostitution to survive. She reestablished her relationship with her mother six years later when she returned home, studied pedagogy and gerontology in college. It was there that she joined the student movement and politics.

In 2020, Erika Hilton became the first black and transgender city councilor in São Paulo. Three years later, as a federal deputy, she was once again speaking with her microphone open in the plenary.

Erika needed breath to beautifully and passionately deliver a speech, almost shouting, to defend the basics, what should be a human right: the permission to exist, to love, to belong, and to not be expelled once again from civil society, as many girls and boys still are.

***

Erika was present on behalf of Gabi and millions of other marginalized, invisibilized citizens, segregated by their gender identity and sexual orientation. But this time, we are also present.

Since 2022, Fome has been the official communication agency for the largest LGBTQIA+ Parade in the world. In partnership with the São Paulo LGBT Pride Parade Association (APOLGBT-SP), the agency manages the strategy and positioning of the brand for the most proud, joyful, and powerful manifestation in São Paulo.

The theme for 2023 was the invisibility of the LGBT+ community in social assistance agendas, summarized as “We want social policies for LGBT+ in full, not in part.” This is an issue that encompasses the low-income LGBT+ population facing food insecurity, homelessness, and social exclusion. Check out the manifesto video here!

Here, we created a diversity committee to lead discussions and brainstorming sessions, deliver shared and better-defined languages, and give creative freedom for Fome to responsibly and proudly represent the largest LGBT+ Parade in the world—which brought together millions of voices, bodies, projects, and speeches fighting together during a radiant weekend in June.

More than an annual manifestation, the São Paulo LGBT+ Parade is a huge opportunity to highlight extremely important issues for the community that do not receive the attention they deserve. With our help, this edition was able to mobilize the government, businesses, and society in search of improvements for those who need it most.

Gabi, it’s been a while since we last saw each other, but I hope you and your friends saw Av. Paulista during that weekend in June. Not to ask for food from us. But to see us fighting for much more for you.

—

* I chose this name in homage to the play and book called ‘Luiz Antônio Gabriela’: a work created by the author as his apology to his sister, a transgender woman, who was a victim of all kinds of violence and persecution before her redemption on stage – which, unfortunately, did not happen in life.