On Delhi’s crowded roads, where traffic rarely slows and patience runs thin at each signal, a small group of transgender and queer persons are quietly learning ways to reclaim space for themselves — one driving lesson at a time.
At a one-of-its-kind drivers’ programme being run at the Kamla Market police station in Delhi, the first batch of transgender and LGBTQ people has just completed their course, learning not just to navigate Delhi’s chaotic roads but also to negotiate society which tends to judge.
At this programme run by community building organisation Seva Bharti, transgender and queer learners are discovering more than just a skill. They are finding dignity and confidence and a space that lets them be.
For one of the trainees, Piya (39), a transgender rights activist, learning to drive was never only about mobility.
“If we don’t stand on our feet, nobody will support us,” she says, her words carrying the weight of years spent negotiating identity.
Like other transgender persons, she says her first struggle was not with society but within her own home.
“The first battle is with the family," she says quietly, adding that it is better to tell your family yourself than let somebody else tell them.
The learners, whom The Tribune interviewed, went on to list their struggles that range from bullying in schools and colleges to hesitation of corporates to offer jobs.
Sand, another recruit, pursuing graduation in social work, says driving, for her, began as a practical life skill.
“Driving is something everyone should know,” she says remembering her first nervous day at the Centre when she was filled with self-doubt.
But no more. “When I reached there, I found confidence. Instructors are very patient and non-judgmental. At the end, we know jobs are still not easily available everywhere but at least we have skills. That’s a satisfaction,” she says.
All learners appreciated the three-month course for its focus on the skill rather than identity or gender.
Ask them if it was just about jobs, the recruits say no. For most, the enrollment here was not immediately about employment. It was about freedom and future readiness.
Lessons learnt, apprehensions still loom. Sana shares anecdotes from other transgender drivers who spoke of customers refusing to travel with them.
“People know about LGBTQ rights now, they heard about the community and yet they bully or body shame," says Piya.
The contradiction, the learners say, reflects the gap between awareness and acceptance.
“People have seen transgender persons, but barely ever engaged. Real understanding only comes through conversations," she says.
As for the programme, it may appear modest in scale, with a handful of participants so far, but for those involved, it represents something much larger – access, visibility, confidence and the possibility of being seen beyond stereotypes.
The centre is managed by Savita Narang, a corporate sector executive, who has been volunteering with Sewa Bharti for three years. “When I first heard of this initiative, it felt out of the box and I immediately wanted to join. I am glad I did."
As observed during training sessions, inclusion, for LGBTQ people, begins with something as basic as equal opportunity – to study, work, travel safely and navigate life free of judgements. And sometimes, that journey begins with something as basic as learning to drive.
