Find out more about the award recipient

My name is Kai Mata, and I am an Indonesian musician, LGBTQIA+ activist, and public speaker. When I was fifteen years old reckoning with my queer identity, fear flooded me.  All I saw of queerness at the time were the canings of gay men in Aceh, the Indonesian Psychiatric Association labeling us a contagious mental illness, and government officials listing us as a threat to national security.  I remember feeling so scared, that my teenage self vowed to forever hide my queerness from the world. And now, over a decade later, I operate with one main mission: to be the person I needed when I was a scared, closeted teenager.  I write music to reach the people who feel isolated because of who they are.  What I needed was an example that life can be worth living out and proud. That there is a way forward. That we as LGBTQIA+ people are able to have fulfilling, euphoric lives despite the discrimination we unfairly face.  Thus, I seek to prove we are all worthy of living, worthy of loving, and worthy of being loved, with the ultimate hope that my country lives up to its national motto: Unity in Diversity.

My work thrives in the intersections of music and activism. Art and music have historically been the heartbeat of movements worldwide.  It is a tool to reclaim our identities and histories against a dominant discourse that believes we do not deserve to exist. My seven years of artistic activism has hinged on turning anti-LGBTI+ rhetoric into our very own pride anthems, giving queer people music they feel ownership in.  This is music that preserves and amplifies 20th-century sapphic narratives from Indonesian magazines, anchors gender/sexual diversity as a cultural cornerstone through precolonial examples, and centers our celebration as our inherent rebellion.  Whether on the ground at protests, at international music festivals, or on a Spotify playlist, my songs have reached millions to help shift conversations from taboo to humanity. My work thus far has been performed across six continents.  It has bestowed me the title of Artivist Award Winner for addressing identity-based violence and mass atrocities (Auschwitz Institute, Institute of Genocide & Mass Atrocity Prevention, Global Campus of Human Rights). Proudly, my work has propelled me to share Indonesian LGBTQ+ narratives on global stages, from the United Nations to RightsCon to CoC Netherlands. 

What one achievement you’ve accomplished that you’re most proud of? Why?

Leveraging music to humanize LGBTQ+ as more than political issues, but stories with heart is what I’m most proud of. My activism when viral in 2020 with my song and public plea against Indonesian legislation that mandated conversion therapy.  Merging art and advocacy helps shift public perception and create a refuge for the community I serve. My music has opened doors for others to speak their truth safely and for artivism to be actively recognized in traditional advocacy spaces. I’m proud of the ripple effect it’s created: empowering this generation to find their voice in unity rather than in hiding.

What do you find most challenging about your work? Why?

Doing the work safely is the most challenging aspect, as we artists are typically on the frontlines, visible in a place where positive queer narratives are vilified and have even been criminalized. Speaking and singing openly with pride as a queer Indonesian leads to constant death threats, doxing attempts, and the occasional government scrutiny. With each song and story I share, the possibility of creating a needed connection is far more valuable than the risk of backlash. Of course, I still have fear, but it’s courage that reminds me to create art as both a shield and bridge.

What do you do to recharge your battery?

I recharge by becoming a beginner again through new, unexpected hobbies. It feels wonderful to learn and have zero authority on a subject. Currently, that means Italian language classes, as I fell in love with the language after my four-month Artivist residency in Venice. I feel recharged in learning because it allows the leader in me to take rest. There is beauty in the blunders as I incorrectly apply grammar rules and vocabulary. Learning Italian has become a respite for me. 

What is your vulnerability and how do you overcome it?

My vulnerability lies in visibility. Being so openly queer in Indonesia, I am all-too familiar with harassment, threats, and cyber-mobs. This exposure has put me at risk both legally and personally. But this vulnerability also exists as an asset. By sharing my truth publicly, I’m actively dismantling shame. I see the effects on others, who have graciously shared the inspiration they feel to see our narratives reflected with strength rather than fear. I accept that this authenticity is dangerous, but silence is a far greater risk to our rights than speaking our truths.

You have been nominated for the Young Achiever category. What was your reaction and please, tell us why?

I am both honored and humbled because it means the field of artistic activism is receiving more recognition in more traditional, institutional forms of advocacy. Receiving a nomination already feels like a win to me, because it formally appreciates art’s impact on human rights: igniting millions into a change of heart.  Even more, I’m overjoyed my music has brought hope to our rainbow community, especially when society has demanded our lives be ones shrouded in shame and silence.

With changes that we are currently experiencing politically affecting our movement, and sustainability, what is a warm/hopeful message that you would like to share with the communities in the Asia Pacific?

We are seeing widespread democratic backsliding across our continent.  People from Nepal to the Philippines to Indonesia feel rightfully enraged at systemic corruption, growing economic disparity, and government militarization. In times of national outrage, minority communities have historically been implicated as the cause of economic failure, ecological disaster, and moral erosion. A scapegoat always exists, and right now, we LGBTQI people bear the brunt of the scrutiny. Now more than ever, we must show that we are more than the suffering systemically imposed on us. We can circumnavigate increasing censorship through creative means.  We see the venom they spew at us and show them our vitality. And we can respond to their death threats with our own love notes. Our joy is our strongest form of resistance. And our joy can only grow stronger together. 

Anything else you would like to share? 

Thank you so much for the nomination. My work has solely focused on grassroots, organic movements. Being nominated for this is a success for the entire community that stands with me both in the safety of the shadows and daringly in the public. Ultimately, I stand until we all have a seat at the table. And I sing until we all have a voice.

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