Recognising LGBT+ History Month with Maria Paula Bonifácio, a Brazilian Human Rights Lawyer

I come from a humble family with few resources. I was kicked out of my home at the age of 13 and had to resort to sex work and sleeping on the streets. However, I refused to accept that as my fate because it wasn’t what I dreamed for myself. I attended public schools throughout my life and entered university through social inclusion initiatives for low-income individuals. This background put me at a slight disadvantage compared to my peers, who had more opportunities, but I never gave up.

When I started law school, I had already gone through two years of gender transition, yet I was still harassed by a professor who refused to respect my chosen name and gender identity. I consider finishing law school one of my greatest academic achievements because, in addition to facing discrimination, I also worked tirelessly to support myself, pushing me to the limits of physical and mental exhaustion.

After graduation, I received numerous rejections from law firms. During interviews, when they realized I was a trans person, they withdrew from the hiring process. It wasn’t until 2021 that I had the opportunity to join a large law firm (through positive action) and begin my career. At this firm, I had the chance to develop professionally, deliver outstanding work for nearly four years, and gain national and international recognition for my contributions.

Today, I specialize in Social Inclusion, Diversity, and Human Rights, as well as Impact Project Management. Besides being a lawyer, I am an independent Human Rights consultant, focusing on LGBT+ and women’s rights.

Fortunately, at least in Brazil, we have seen progress in protecting trans people's rights. However, we are still far from the ideal scenario. For instance, we can now change our names and gender markers directly at the registry office without needing a court order. However, the process is quite expensive, and to obtain a fee waiver, individuals must go through government agencies or institutions, which requires some knowledge of the system. Considering that over 80% of trans people drop out of school before completing basic education, understanding this process can be a major barrier.

On the other hand, in recent years, we have witnessed a rise in "anti-trans" policies from some governments, including bans on using restrooms and locker rooms according to gender identity, among other restrictions. In this context, it is crucial to remain vigilant about how our rights are being threatened or curtailed.

As a lawyer, I have the legal expertise to monitor these developments, but I cannot—and should not—do this alone. That is why I urge my fellow legal professionals to remember the social role of our profession. The fight against setbacks and violence should not be solely the responsibility of trans lawyers, but of all legal professionals who once swore to uphold "the rights and guarantees of citizens in building a more equal and free society."

Lack of representation was one of the biggest challenges I faced. I had no (at least in my time and with my access) role models of trans professionals as lawyers, judges, prosecutors, or public defenders. This often made me question whether this field was meant for me.

On the other hand, in the streets and in vulnerable situations, I always saw others like me. When you are young, this reality can create a distorted sense of belonging—if people like me aren’t in certain spaces, maybe those spaces aren’t meant for us.

However, I was exposed to vulnerability at a very young age. I went hungry, slept on the streets, and already knew that I did not want that life for myself. That understanding made me persist, even when I couldn't see a future full of possibilities. This persistence—sometimes seen as masochistic—allowed me to become the first trans woman in many spaces, gain international recognition in legal directories, and find visibility in the legal market.

But I believe my greatest achievement is simply being alive, healthy, and successful despite the institutional, cultural, political, and social campaigns against people like me.

Visibility is a crucial issue: when we are seen in different spaces, our presence becomes real and possible. People acknowledge our existence and must engage with it.

For example, court rulings ensuring that trans women and transvestites can serve their sentences in prisons that align with their gender identity reinforce this principle. The trans movement was actively involved in advocating for such rulings, and the courts responded positively. That is why our existence must be highlighted on specific dates—so people remember that we are here and that we are not going anywhere.

I believe this gradual exposure helps society get used to our presence—not to accept us, but to respect us and recognize that we have the right to exist in all spaces.

First and foremost, we must remember the social role of lawyers: to uphold democracy, citizenship, public morality, justice, and social peace. Our profession inherently involves defending citizenship, meaning it is the responsibility of all lawyers to ensure that everyone, including trans people, can practice their profession with dignity and respect.

I recall moments when I worked to implement affirmative action policies in professional environments because I personally benefited from such initiatives. One example was when I advocated for increasing an education subsidy for trans individuals from 75% to 100% at a firm where I worked, recognizing the extreme vulnerability of this group. My request was accepted, and today, this is an institutional policy.

These seemingly small actions extend beyond our own experiences—they can create opportunities for many others who will come after us.

Unfortunately, I had very few role models during my academic journey. I remember meeting Cris Stefanny, founder of ATMS (Association of Travestis and Transsexuals of Mato Grosso do Sul), during law school. She was my first trans role model in the fight for community rights.

This is disheartening because it reinforces the reality that trans people were not writing the textbooks I studied or making the legal precedents I read before class. Today, I am happy to see people like Erika Hilton, Erica Malunguinho, Duda Salabert, João Nery, and Linda Brasil in positions that prove our capability. Their existence creates a sense of possibility and belonging.

We are living in a frightening time, especially for the trans community. The international political climate increasingly targets vulnerable groups, with a particularly cruel focus on trans people.

However, I have genuine hope—not just for the future, but for the present. Trans history shows that this is not the first or last time we will face persecution. That is why we need the support of all allies now more than ever.

To younger trans individuals pursuing a legal career: do not give up. Seek out role models, build support networks, and never believe that we are defeated. The legal profession is challenging but beautiful, and it equips us with powerful tools to create a fairer society for ourselves and others.