Hello. I’ve been wondering how to respond to this. Whether it deserves the dignity of a response. This isn’t the first film Kuwait has banned. If there are queer or trans themes or scenes in your film, it’s probably not gonna make it to the Gulf. Which is devastating and terrifying in its own right. But our film doesn’t have queer themes. Our film doesn’t actually ever mention my transness, or my queerness. I am a trans actor who happened to get the role. I’m not a theme. I’m a person. Kuwait has banned this film due to my identity alone. Reportedly, this is a first. This is a new precedent. It is targeted and dehumanising and means to harm us. As much as it is very sad to be on the receiving end of this, what is even more heartbreaking is what this precedent means for the queer and trans people of Kuwait. Representation is hope. Representation is a light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to keep going, something to hold onto in the dark, a voice that whispers things can be better than they are. Eliminating trans actors on screens will not eliminate trans people (as much as the government of Kuwait wishes it would) but it will eliminate a lot of hope. And hope is such a large part of how we live as marginalised people. It’s how we learn to move through the hatred and the mistreatment and the violence. We look to all the people who have done it before us, we look to all the people who are doing it beside us, and that gives us hope to keep going. We are a community that has learnt to depend on each other, because cis people have historically been no help. Therefore, our survival is so dependent on our ability to look to each other, to share with each other, to lean on each other, to love each other, to see each other. My heart breaks for the trans people and queer people of Kuwait who have so few places to look. If you feel angry, sad or confused by this, consider donating to the Rainbow Railroad; an organisation that helps queer and trans people access safety and lives free from persecution worldwide. Link to donate is in my bio. In love and anger, Zo x
Hello. I’ve been wondering how to respond to this. Whether it deserves the dignity of a response. This isn’t the first film Kuwait has banned. If there are queer or trans themes or scenes in your film, it’s probably not gonna make it to the Gulf. Which is devastating and terrifying in its own right. But our film doesn’t have queer themes. Our film doesn’t actually ever mention my transness, or my queerness. I am a trans actor who happened to get the role. I’m not a theme. I’m a person. Kuwait has banned this film due to my identity alone. Reportedly, this is a first. This is a new precedent. It is targeted and dehumanising and means to harm us. As much as it is very sad to be on the receiving end of this, what is even more heartbreaking is what this precedent means for the queer and trans people of Kuwait. Representation is hope. Representation is a light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to keep going, something to hold onto in the dark, a voice that whispers things can be better than they are. Eliminating trans actors on screens will not eliminate trans people (as much as the government of Kuwait wishes it would) but it will eliminate a lot of hope. And hope is such a large part of how we live as marginalised people. It’s how we learn to move through the hatred and the mistreatment and the violence. We look to all the people who have done it before us, we look to all the people who are doing it beside us, and that gives us hope to keep going. We are a community that has learnt to depend on each other, because cis people have historically been no help. Therefore, our survival is so dependent on our ability to look to each other, to share with each other, to lean on each other, to love each other, to see each other. My heart breaks for the trans people and queer people of Kuwait who have so few places to look. If you feel angry, sad or confused by this, consider donating to the Rainbow Railroad; an organisation that helps queer and trans people access safety and lives free from persecution worldwide. Link to donate is in my bio. In love and anger, Zo x
Hello. I’ve been wondering how to respond to this. Whether it deserves the dignity of a response. This isn’t the first film Kuwait has banned. If there are queer or trans themes or scenes in your film, it’s probably not gonna make it to the Gulf. Which is devastating and terrifying in its own right. But our film doesn’t have queer themes. Our film doesn’t actually ever mention my transness, or my queerness. I am a trans actor who happened to get the role. I’m not a theme. I’m a person. Kuwait has banned this film due to my identity alone. Reportedly, this is a first. This is a new precedent. It is targeted and dehumanising and means to harm us. As much as it is very sad to be on the receiving end of this, what is even more heartbreaking is what this precedent means for the queer and trans people of Kuwait. Representation is hope. Representation is a light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to keep going, something to hold onto in the dark, a voice that whispers things can be better than they are. Eliminating trans actors on screens will not eliminate trans people (as much as the government of Kuwait wishes it would) but it will eliminate a lot of hope. And hope is such a large part of how we live as marginalised people. It’s how we learn to move through the hatred and the mistreatment and the violence. We look to all the people who have done it before us, we look to all the people who are doing it beside us, and that gives us hope to keep going. We are a community that has learnt to depend on each other, because cis people have historically been no help. Therefore, our survival is so dependent on our ability to look to each other, to share with each other, to lean on each other, to love each other, to see each other. My heart breaks for the trans people and queer people of Kuwait who have so few places to look. If you feel angry, sad or confused by this, consider donating to the Rainbow Railroad; an organisation that helps queer and trans people access safety and lives free from persecution worldwide. Link to donate is in my bio. In love and anger, Zo x
Hello. I’ve been wondering how to respond to this. Whether it deserves the dignity of a response. This isn’t the first film Kuwait has banned. If there are queer or trans themes or scenes in your film, it’s probably not gonna make it to the Gulf. Which is devastating and terrifying in its own right. But our film doesn’t have queer themes. Our film doesn’t actually ever mention my transness, or my queerness. I am a trans actor who happened to get the role. I’m not a theme. I’m a person. Kuwait has banned this film due to my identity alone. Reportedly, this is a first. This is a new precedent. It is targeted and dehumanising and means to harm us. As much as it is very sad to be on the receiving end of this, what is even more heartbreaking is what this precedent means for the queer and trans people of Kuwait. Representation is hope. Representation is a light at the end of the tunnel, a reason to keep going, something to hold onto in the dark, a voice that whispers things can be better than they are. Eliminating trans actors on screens will not eliminate trans people (as much as the government of Kuwait wishes it would) but it will eliminate a lot of hope. And hope is such a large part of how we live as marginalised people. It’s how we learn to move through the hatred and the mistreatment and the violence. We look to all the people who have done it before us, we look to all the people who are doing it beside us, and that gives us hope to keep going. We are a community that has learnt to depend on each other, because cis people have historically been no help. Therefore, our survival is so dependent on our ability to look to each other, to share with each other, to lean on each other, to love each other, to see each other. My heart breaks for the trans people and queer people of Kuwait who have so few places to look. If you feel angry, sad or confused by this, consider donating to the Rainbow Railroad; an organisation that helps queer and trans people access safety and lives free from persecution worldwide. Link to donate is in my bio. In love and anger, Zo x
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
Talk To Me BTS 🫴🏽 we had fun
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‘HACHETTE AUSTRALIA ACQUIRES WORLD RIGHTS TO ZOE TERAKES’ DEBUT SHORT STORY COLLECTION. Hachette Australia is thrilled to announce the acquisition of Eros: Queer Myths for Lovers, a collection of short stories by Australian actor Zoe Terakes. Hachette’s Senior Non-Fiction Publisher Scott Henderson struck the deal with Zoe who was introduced to Hachette via their publishing scout partnership with renowned Australian screenwriter, producer, author, journalist, and broadcaster, Benjamin Law. Eros: Queer Myths for Lovers is a collection of short stories, each recounting a different queer Greek myth. These stories are grounded in truth, and coloured in with detail and a creativity unique to this exciting author. Henderson said: ‘Authors like Zoe are a true gift, and are the reason we all love books, both as publishers and as readers. Zoe is a creative force, and working with them on this project has been a true career highlight. Zoe’s passion for these stories, artistic integrity and dedication to their craft is a rarity, and they have a huge literary career ahead of them. The way Zoe sees the world is truly unique and inspiring, and I cannot wait to share this work with readers.’ Terakes said: ‘The process of writing this book is demanding and empowering. Ancient queer and trans history is a pretty special world to immerse myself in; it reminds me that we’re not alone, that we’re not an anomaly, that we’ve always been here, we’ve always been natural and essential. In times like these wherein trans people are under such violent and unrelenting attack, it feels so important to look at the beauty and magic and resistance in our ancestors. Terakes describes the book as glimpses into moments between ancient lovers. Some stories will attempt to span across a life, and others, an evening. They say ‘We will sit on the inside of the world with these characters. We will shift perspectives. We will experience these lovers’ heat, their yearning, their wrath, their inevitable fate. This is a book to read to your lover. Sex. Smut. Irreverence. What the ancient Greeks do best. With queerness brought to the forefront.’
‘HACHETTE AUSTRALIA ACQUIRES WORLD RIGHTS TO ZOE TERAKES’ DEBUT SHORT STORY COLLECTION. Hachette Australia is thrilled to announce the acquisition of Eros: Queer Myths for Lovers, a collection of short stories by Australian actor Zoe Terakes. Hachette’s Senior Non-Fiction Publisher Scott Henderson struck the deal with Zoe who was introduced to Hachette via their publishing scout partnership with renowned Australian screenwriter, producer, author, journalist, and broadcaster, Benjamin Law. Eros: Queer Myths for Lovers is a collection of short stories, each recounting a different queer Greek myth. These stories are grounded in truth, and coloured in with detail and a creativity unique to this exciting author. Henderson said: ‘Authors like Zoe are a true gift, and are the reason we all love books, both as publishers and as readers. Zoe is a creative force, and working with them on this project has been a true career highlight. Zoe’s passion for these stories, artistic integrity and dedication to their craft is a rarity, and they have a huge literary career ahead of them. The way Zoe sees the world is truly unique and inspiring, and I cannot wait to share this work with readers.’ Terakes said: ‘The process of writing this book is demanding and empowering. Ancient queer and trans history is a pretty special world to immerse myself in; it reminds me that we’re not alone, that we’re not an anomaly, that we’ve always been here, we’ve always been natural and essential. In times like these wherein trans people are under such violent and unrelenting attack, it feels so important to look at the beauty and magic and resistance in our ancestors. Terakes describes the book as glimpses into moments between ancient lovers. Some stories will attempt to span across a life, and others, an evening. They say ‘We will sit on the inside of the world with these characters. We will shift perspectives. We will experience these lovers’ heat, their yearning, their wrath, their inevitable fate. This is a book to read to your lover. Sex. Smut. Irreverence. What the ancient Greeks do best. With queerness brought to the forefront.’
trans surf club let’s go. I ❤️ my boys
trans surf club let’s go. I ❤️ my boys
TALK TO ME in cinemas today!!!!!! So stoked. @sophiewildee is aboutta knock your socks off. For real. Go see it if you’re brave 🫴🏽💀 Also. As an Aussie indie film, SAG have given Talk To Me an exemption from the strike. We stand in support of striking actors and writers, who are fighting against multi-billion dollar media conglomerates for the sake of our livelihood and our survival. ✊🏽
