Asumi (left) and Oriana stand in the light of a police car during a nightly raid. "There's lots of physical and verbal abuse, and the police will break into the women's homes and arrest all of the women in the house,” says photographer Danielle Villasana. "There are some accounts of police arresting transwomen who aren't even working, they just arrest them for being transgender. A woman might be running to get food during a police raid, in her pajamas and not in her work clothes, but she will still get arrested.”

Takeover: Danielle Villasana /

We’re delighted to share the work of Danielle Villasana.

“A Light Inside” is Danielle’s longterm project bringing visibility to a community of transgender women in Lima, Peru. In a country characterized by a highly machismo, conservative and religious culture, transgender women are extremely marginalized and discriminated in Peruvian society. With few options or support, many practice prostitution to support themselves. Consequently, as sex workers with no legal protections, they’re at greater risk of violence and sexual and substance abuse, and are less able to protect their health. Without legal protection, most cases of violence and human rights violations remain hidden.

Read the stories shared during her week-long takeover below.

“I want to have a job with somebody I know, someone who trusts me. Because otherwise, they discriminate you, they look at you up and down when you’re looking for work.” Tamara is a 27-year-old transgender woman from Peru. After facing depression and loneliness from a young age, she began sex work at age 18. Though she often looks for other work, she says she is often turned away by people who think she has diseases and is vulgar. “Sometimes I think about leaving prostitution behind. But, because I’m alone, it’s really expensive,” said Tamara, who consistently changes apartments.
“I want to have a job with somebody I know, someone who trusts me. Because otherwise, they discriminate you, they look at you up and down when you’re looking for work.” Tamara is a 27-year-old transgender woman from Peru. After facing depression and loneliness from a young age, she began sex work at age 18. Though she often looks for other work, she says she is often turned away by people who think she has diseases and is vulgar. “Sometimes I think about leaving prostitution behind. But, because I’m alone, it’s really expensive,” said Tamara, who consistently changes apartments.
Camila, left, works as both a hairdresser and in sex work. She steps out of a taxi out of a long night of dancing. Because of a transperson’s desire to match their body with the way they feel within, many seek to enhance their bodies. However, without hospitals or medical care that attend to transgender people and with limited economic resources, many transwomen inject silicone into their bodies. Camila moved from Brazil to Peru to save money for artificial implantations. Many trans women will buy industrial silicone, which comes from airplane oil and can have extremely harmful long-term consequences such as cancer; thankfully, Camila is very educated on the matter and saved her money for the more expensive silicone. However, a close friend of hers recently died after receiving breast implants.
Camila, left, works as both a hairdresser and in sex work. She steps out of a taxi out of a long night of dancing. Because of a transperson’s desire to match their body with the way they feel within, many seek to enhance their bodies. However, without hospitals or medical care that attend to transgender people and with limited economic resources, many transwomen inject silicone into their bodies. Camila moved from Brazil to Peru to save money for artificial implantations. Many trans women will buy industrial silicone, which comes from airplane oil and can have extremely harmful long-term consequences such as cancer; thankfully, Camila is very educated on the matter and saved her money for the more expensive silicone. However, a close friend of hers recently died after receiving breast implants.
"My childhood was awful because my parents didn't accept me from the time I was a kid. I didn't live at home, I was always running away. I was always hungry and I didn't have anywhere to sleep,” said Oriana, a transgender woman who turned to prostitution at only 12 years old. Here, she is pictured with her on-and-off-again boyfriend Josue. Though he says that living with her helps him to lead a better life, he often talks about how their relationship isn't right under the eyes of God.
“My childhood was awful because my parents didn’t accept me from the time I was a kid. I didn’t live at home, I was always running away. I was always hungry and I didn’t have anywhere to sleep,” said Oriana, a transgender woman who turned to prostitution at only 12 years old. Here, she is pictured with her on-and-off-again boyfriend Josue. Though he says that living with her helps him to lead a better life, he often talks about how their relationship isn’t right under the eyes of God.
"The feeling is inexplainable. We leave the stage and girls are applauding, they admire you. You get down off the stage and they take photos of you. You feel good about yourself and you feel good about society,” says Briss about performing with Peru’s only transgender dance group, the Tranxgresoras. It is here she and other members find an outlet and praise for each member’s creativity. Briss says that while the psychological abuse in Peruvian society is difficult, dancing for the Tranxgresoras strengthens them and helps them to push forward.
“The feeling is inexplainable. We leave the stage and girls are applauding, they admire you. You get down off the stage and they take photos of you. You feel good about yourself and you feel good about society,” says Briss about performing with Peru’s only transgender dance group, the Tranxgresoras. It is here she and other members find an outlet and praise for each member’s creativity. Briss says that while the psychological abuse in Peruvian society is difficult, dancing for the Tranxgresoras strengthens them and helps them to push forward.
“My parents turned their back on me, they hit me, and they told me that I was a disgrace. I was very sad. People believe that you are worse than animals. However, we are all equal in God's eyes. I believe in God. Sometimes it helps me out of my depression, I ask Him for help.” Nearly every week, Yasuri visits the Baquijano Cemetery to leave flowers and pray at a Peruvian saint’s tomb. She said that she can no longer stand prostitution. “It makes me sick,” said Yasuri, who dreams of having a family and getting married one day.
“My parents turned their back on me, they hit me, and they told me that I was a disgrace. I was very sad. People believe that you are worse than animals. However, we are all equal in God’s eyes. I believe in God. Sometimes it helps me out of my depression, I ask Him for help.” Nearly every week, Yasuri visits the Baquijano Cemetery to leave flowers and pray at a Peruvian saint’s tomb. She said that she can no longer stand prostitution. “It makes me sick,” said Yasuri, who dreams of having a family and getting married one day.
“Identity in general is very strong. Nobody can deny you it, because it’s inside of you,” said Peruvian anthropologist Ximena Salazar. After work, Danuska (center) and her friends go out dancing at a club that features a night specifically for the LGBTQI community. Danuska struggles with body image issues and often jokes about being anorexic. According to Salazar, the structures and traditions of gender are very rigid in Peruvian society, thus making it very easy for society to discriminate those who do not fulfill traditional roles. "The family is the first big social space where the female trans is going to have a fight.” Because of this constant fight, many leave home and move to Lima where they know there is a network already waiting. “[Sex work] is a complete social world. There is a network, friends, enemies, the family is there. Your real family rejects you so your family is also there.”
“Identity in general is very strong. Nobody can deny you it, because it’s inside of you,” said Peruvian anthropologist Ximena Salazar. After work, Danuska (center) and her friends go out dancing at a club that features a night specifically for the LGBTQI community. Danuska struggles with body image issues and often jokes about being anorexic.
According to Salazar, the structures and traditions of gender are very rigid in Peruvian society, thus making it very easy for society to discriminate those who do not fulfill traditional roles. “The family is the first big social space where the female trans is going to have a fight.” Because of this constant fight, many leave home and move to Lima where they know there is a network already waiting. “[Sex work] is a complete social world. There is a network, friends, enemies, the family is there. Your real family rejects you so your family is also there.”
Asumi (left) and Oriana stand in the light of a police car during a nightly raid. "There's lots of physical and verbal abuse, and the police will break into the women's homes and arrest all of the women in the house,” says photographer Danielle Villasana. "There are some accounts of police arresting transwomen who aren't even working, they just arrest them for being transgender. A woman might be running to get food during a police raid, in her pajamas and not in her work clothes, but she will still get arrested.” Photo by Danielle Villasana
Asumi (left) and Oriana stand in the light of a police car during a nightly raid. “There’s lots of physical and verbal abuse, and the police will break into the women’s homes and arrest all of the women in the house,” says photographer Danielle Villasana. “There are some accounts of police arresting transwomen who aren’t even working, they just arrest them for being transgender. A woman might be running to get food during a police raid, in her pajamas and not in her work clothes, but she will still get arrested.”
Photo by Danielle Villasana

 

About Danielle:
Danielle Villasana is an independent photojournalist whose documentary work focuses on women, identity, human rights and health. She is currently based in Istanbul.

Before attending college, Danielle traveled through more than thirty countries in Europe and West Africa, photographing along the way. After meeting a photojournalist in Ghana, she realized that photography combined with discovery, cross-cultural communication and a desire to spread awareness about global issues equates to journalism. In Fall 2013, she graduated from the University of Texas at Austin as a double-major in Photojournalism and Spanish.

Danielle also strongly believes in education and giving back through photography. In 2014, she founded Fotos por el Cambio, a photography workshop in collaboration with the U.S. Embassy in Lima, Peru, that aims to empower communities and emerging photographers. In Spring 2016, she taught photography and multimedia at the American University of Nigeria as a traveling lecturer.

Ultimately, Danielle strives to live and work by the advice of her mentor Donna De Cesare: “You are a human being first and a journalist second.”

See more of Danielle’s work at www.daniellevillasana.com

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