“I think being on stage as a transgender body and a transgender voice is a small act of rebellion. It’s like pointing the middle finger at ‘Singaporean values’,” said Loo, who has focused more on theater performances since its 2021 premiere.
Her most recent appearance was in January in a small documentary theater production, TRANS: MISSION, in which different generations of transgender people discuss their lives in Singapore to an audience.
‘Wah, really?’: The sudden arrival of a gender-neutral toilet is dividing Singapore
‘Wah, really?’: The sudden arrival of a gender-neutral toilet is dividing Singapore
Raised in a Catholic family, she began acting at the age of seven, appearing in the 2011 short film Cartoons by award-winning Singaporean director Ken Kwek.
Since then, she has appeared in television shows, films and theater performances, and graduated from drama high school.
Her most famous role was in We have 2 lionsa 2017 mainstream drama series starring a supporting student who dies by suicide after being caught cheating at a badminton tournament.
“Engaging with the pain… helped me work through my own pain at that moment,” she said, calling it a “cathartic activity” as she struggled with gender dysphoria and mental health issues.
In Singapore, transgender representation is essentially zero
The appearance of queer characters on screen is rare in Singapore, where laws restrict the portrayal of LGBTQ people in local media. If they do appear, they are sometimes burdened with stereotypes, say activists.
Classification guidelines state that movies and tv shows with adult themes – including those about “alternative sexuality” and gender identities – are generally intended for people aged 16 and over, which implies they can not be shown on free-to-air television .
While the rules don’t place any restrictions on queer artists, activists say producers may harbor their very own biases or fear negative reactions from audiences or sponsors.
The “low representation” on Singapore’s screens recalls “very unlucky negative representations or portrayals of trans people, which contributes to very harmful stereotypes of trans people as criminals or deviants,” said Leow Yangfa, executive director of Oogachaga, a nonprofit that provides counseling to LGBTQ people .
When she began to query her gender identity on the age of 13, Loo turned to the Internet, and American YouTubers became her fundamental source of knowledge.
“There is basically zero transgender representation in Singapore,” she said, adding: “I just didn’t think it would be possible [transition]”
She said that when internet research made her realize she was a girl trapped in a boy’s body, “it was not a moment of joy and relief.”
Rather, it was “fear and terror because I knew that if I was really like that, I could risk losing my entire career and losing my family and all my friends.”
She repressed her trance until a breakdown forced her to seek therapy before telling her parents.
Her mother took the news badly, but her father signed a consent form for hormone replacement therapy at a private clinic when she was a minor.
Singapore’s anti-gay law has disappeared, but for some LGBTQ families, nothing has changed
Singapore’s anti-gay law has disappeared, but for some LGBTQ families, nothing has changed
As she expected, her career took a turn for the worse after she came out.
“I haven’t worked on TV since I came out,” she said.
However, despite these small victories, she still feels that her options are limited.
“I want to be an artist that transcends being transgender,” she said. “I feel like the only way to have a fulfilling career is to not be here” in Singapore.
