The Human Rights Council (HRC) is the key intergovernmental body within the United Nations system responsible for the promotion and protection of all human rights around the globe. It holds three regular sessions a year: in March, June and September. The Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) is the secretariat for the HRC.
The HRC works by:
Debating and passing resolutions on global human rights issues and human rights situations in particular countries
Examining complaints from victims of human rights violations or activist organizations on behalf of victims of human rights violations
Appointing independent experts (known as “Special Procedures”) to review human rights violations in specific countries and examine and further global human rights issues
Engaging in discussions with experts and governments on human rights issues
Assessing the human rights records of all UN Member States every four and a half years through the Universal Periodic Review
AWID works with feminist, progressive and human rights partners to share key knowledge, convene civil society dialogues and events, and influence negotiations and outcomes of the session.
With our partners, our work will:
◾️ Monitor, track and analyze anti-rights actors, discourses and strategies and their impact on resolutions
◾️Support the work of feminist UN experts in the face of backlash and pressure
◾️Advocate for state accountability
◾️ Work with feminist movements and civil society organizations to advance rights related to gender and sexuality.
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«¿Dónde está el dinero para las organizaciones feministas?»
Sobre la base de nuestros 20 años de historia movilizando más y mejor financiamiento para el cambio social encabezado por los feminismos, AWID te invita a responder la nueva edición de nuestra encuesta insignia, WITM
Lo personal es político, y la apasionada y valiente Nadyn Jouny personificó este mantra feminista. Nadyn experimentó de primera mano el dolor de la violencia estructural de los sistemas legales que despojan a las mujeres de sus derechos.
Cuando Nadyn decidió solicitar el divorcio, los tribunales religiosos chiítas, bajo las Leyes de Estatuto Personal Libanesas, le negaron la custodia de su joven hijo Karam. Nadyn, como tantas otras mujeres del Líbano y de otros países, se vio atrapada entre el dolor imposible de dejar una relación no deseada y abusiva y de perder a la vez los derechos sobre su hijo. Sin embargo, Nadyn se defendió, y lo habría de hacerlo hasta el último día.
Nadyn utilizó su habilidad con los medios de comunicación para convertirse en una voz franca a favor de las mujeres que luchan contra la discriminación en la legislación familiar, en el Líbano y a nivel internacional. Nadyn cofundó el grupo autofinanciado "Protecting Lebanese Women" [Protegiendo a las Mujeres Libanesas] (PLW, por sus siglas en inglés) y se unió a muchas otras madres libanesas que se enfrentaban a problemas similares de custodia. Juntas, trabajaron para crear conciencia sobre las injusticias extremas a las que se enfrentaban, a nivel nacional, protestaron ante los tribunales religiosos por sus derechos y, a nivel internacional, llamaron la atención de los medios de comunicación.
Nadyn también trabajó con ABAAD - Resource Center for Gender Equality [Centro de Recursos para la Igualdad de Género], otra organización por los derechos de las mujeres en el Líbano, para realizar campañas en favor de los derechos de las mujeres, la igualdad en la legislación familiar y relativa a las custodias y contra los matrimonios forzados y precoces.
Para muchxs de sus colegas, Nadyn llegó a "simbolizar la lucha de una madre libanesa contra la supresión y la misoginia de todo tipo" (en inglés), al utilizar "su experiencia personal y trayectoria individual de empoderamiento, dio a otras mujeres esperanza para que ellas también pudieran ser un catalizador para el cambio positivo" - ABAAD - Centro de Recursos para la Igualdad entre los Géneros, Líbano.
El 6 de octubre de 2019, Nadyn murió trágicamente en un accidente de automóvil cuando se dirigía a protestar por los injustos aumentos de impuestos en un país que ya se enfrentaba a una espiral de crisis financiera. Nadyn Jouny tenía solo 29 años en el momento de su muerte.
Tshegofatso Senne is a Black, chronically-ill, genderqueer feminist who does the most. Much of their work is rooted in pleasure, community, and dreaming, while being informed by somatic abolitionism and disability, healing, and transformative justices. Writing, researching, and speaking on issues concerning feminism, community, sexual and reproductive justice, consent, rape culture, and justice, Tshegofatso has 8 years of experience theorising on the ways in which these topics intersect with pleasure. They run their own business, Thembekile Stationery, and their community platform Hedone brings people together to explore and understand the power of trauma-awareness and pleasure in their daily lives. Tshegofatso believes deeply in the individual and collective potential of regenerative and sustainable change, pleasure, and care work.
The body. The most permanent home we have.
The body, not the thinking brain, is where we experience most of our pain, pleasure, and joy, and where we process most of what happens to us. It is also where we do most of our healing, including our emotional and psychological healing. And it is where we experience resilience and a sense of flow.
These words, said by Resmaa Menakem in his book My Grandmother’s Hands, have stayed with me.
The body; it holds our experiences. Our memories. Our resilience. And as Menakem has written, the body also holds our traumas. It responds with spontaneous protective mechanisms to stop or prevent more damage. That is the power of the body. Trauma is not the event; it is how our bodies respond to events that feel dangerous to us. It is often left stuck in the body, until we address it. There’s no talking our body out of this response – it just is.
Using Ling Tan’s Digital Superpower app, I tracked how my body felt as I travelled around different parts of my city, Johannesburg, South Africa. The app is a gesture-driven online platform that allows you to trace your perceptions as you move through locations by logging and recording the data. I used it to track my psychosomatic symptoms – physical reactions connected to a mental cause. Whether that be flashbacks. Panic attacks. Tightness in the chest. A fast heartbeat. Tension headaches. Muscle pain. Insomnia. Struggling to breathe. I tracked these symptoms as I walked and travelled to different areas in Johannesburg. And I asked myself.
Where can we be safe? Can we be safe?
Psychosomatic responses can be caused by a number of things, and some are not as severe as others. After experiencing any kind of trauma you may feel intense distress in similar events or situations. I tracked my sensations, ranked on a scale of 1-5, where 1 were the instances I barely felt any of these symptoms – I felt at ease rather than on-guard and jumpy, my breath and heart rate were stable, I was not looking over my shoulder – and number 5 being the opposite – symptoms that had me close to a panic attack.
As a Black person. As a queer person. As a genderqueer person who could be perceived as a woman, depending on what my gender expression is that day.
I asked myself.
Where can we be safe?
Even in neighbourhoods one might consider “safe,” I felt constantly panicked. Looking around me to make sure I wasn’t being followed, adjusting the way my T-shirt sat so my breasts wouldn’t show up as much, looking around to make sure I knew multiple routes to get out of the place I was should I sense danger. An empty road brings anxiety. A packed one does too. Being in an Uber does. Walking on a public road does. Being in my apartment does. So does picking up a delivery from the front of the building.
Can we be safe?
Pumla Dineo Gqola speaks of the Female Fear Factory. It may or may not be familiar, but if you’re someone socialised as a woman, you’ll know this feeling well. The feeling that has you planning every step you take, whether you’re going to work, school, or just running an errand. The feeling that you have to watch how you dress, act, speak in public and private spaces. The feeling in the pit of your stomach if you have to travel at night, get a delivery, or deal with any person who continues to socialise as a cis man. Harassed on the street, always with the threat of violence. Us existing in any space comes with an innate fear.
Fear is both an individual and a socio-political phenomenon. At an individual level, fear can be present as part of a healthy well developing warning system […] When we think about fear, it is important to hold both notions of individual emotional experience and the political ways in which fear has been used in different epochs for control. - Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
South African women, femmes, and queers know that every step we take outside – steps to do ordinary things: a walk to the shops, a taxi to work, an Uber from a party – all of these acts are a negotiation with violence. This fear, is part of the trauma. To cope with the trauma we carry in our bodies, we develop responses to detect danger – watching the emotional responses of those around us, reading for “friendliness.” We’re constantly on guard.
Day after day. Year after year. Life after life. Generation after generation.
On the additional challenge of this learned defence system, author of The Body Keeps Score, Bessel Van Der Kolk, has said
It disrupts this ability to accurately read others, rendering the trauma survivor either less able to detect danger or more likely to misperceive danger where there is none. It takes tremendous energy to keep functioning while carrying the memory of terror, and the shame of utter weakness and vulnerability.
As Resmaa Menakem has said, trauma is in everything; it infiltrates the air we breathe, the water we drink, the foods we eat. It is in the systems that govern us, the institutions that teach and also traumatise us, and within the social contracts we enter into with each other. Most importantly, we take it with us everywhere we go, in our bodies, exhausting us and eroding our health and happiness. We carry that truth in our bodies. Generations of us have.
So, as I walk around my city, whether an area is considered “safe” or not, I carry the traumas of generations whose responses are embedded in my body. My heart palpitates, it becomes difficult to breathe, my chest tightens – because my body feels as though the trauma is happening in that very moment. I live hyper vigilant. To the point where one is either too on-guard to mindfully enjoy their life, or too numb to absorb new experiences.
For us to begin to heal, we need to acknowledge these truths.
These truths that live in our bodies.
This trauma is what keeps many of us from living the lives we want. Ask any femme or queer person what safety looks like to them and they’ll mostly share examples that are simple tasks – being able to simply live joyful lives, without the constant threat of violence.
Feelings of safety, of comfort and ease, are spatial. When we embody our trauma, it affects the ways we perceive our own safety, affects the ways we interact with the world, and alters the ways we are able to experience and embody anything pleasurable and joyful.
We have to refuse this burdensome responsibility and fight for a safe world for all of us. Walking wounded as many of us are, we are fighters. Patriarchy may terrorise and brutalise us, but we will not give up the fight. As we repeatedly take to the streets, defying the fear in spectacular and seemingly insignificant ways, we defend ourselves and speak in our own name. - Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
Where can we be safe? How do we begin to defend ourselves, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional, psychological, and spiritual senses?
“Trauma makes weapons out of us all,” adrienne maree brown has said in an interview conducted by Justin Scott Campbell. And her work, Pleasure Activism, offers us multiple methodologies to heal that trauma and ground ourselves in the understanding that healing, justice, and liberation can also be pleasurable experiences. Especially those of us who are the most marginalised, who may have been raised to equate suffering with “The Work.” The Work that so many of us have gone into as activists, community builders and workers, those serving the most marginalised, The Work that we struggle in order to do, burning ourselves out and rarely caring for our minds and bodies. The alternative is becoming more informed about our trauma, able to identify our own needs, and becoming deeply embodied. That embodiment means we are simply more able to experience the world through the senses and sensations in our bodies, acknowledging what they tell us rather than suppressing and ignoring the information it is communicating with us.
Being constantly in conversation with our living body and intentionally practising those conversations connects us to embodiment more deeply; it allows us to make tangible the emotions we feel as we interact with the world, befriend our bodies, and understand all that they try to teach us. When understanding trauma and embodiment paired, we can begin to start the healing and access pleasure more holistically, healthily, and in our daily lives without shame and guilt. We can begin to access pleasure as a tool for individual and social change, tapping into the power of the erotic as Audre Lorde described it. A power that allows us to share the joy we access and experience, expanding our capacity for happiness and understanding that we are deserving of it, even with our trauma.
Tapping into pleasure and embodying the erotic gives us the expansion of being deliberately alive, feeling grounded and stable and understanding our nervous systems. It allows us to understand and shed the generational baggage we’ve been carrying without realising; we can be empowered with the knowledge that even as traumatised as we are, as traumatised as we potentially could be in the future, we are still deserving of pleasurable and joyful lives, that we can share that power with our people. It is the community aspect that is missing from the ways we care for ourselves; self-care cannot exist without community care. We are able to feel a deeper internal trust, safety, and power of ourselves, especially in the face of future traumas that will trigger us, knowing how to soothe and stabilise ourselves. All this understanding leads us to a deep internal power that is resourced to meet any challenges that come your way.
As those living with deep generational traumas, we have come to distrust and perhaps think we are incapable of containing and accessing the power we have. In “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” Lorde teaches us that the erotic offers a source of replenishment, a way to demand better for ourselves and our lives.
For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavours brings us closest to that fullness.
I don’t say any of this lightly – I know that this is easier said than done. I know that many of us are prevented from understanding these truths, from internalising or even healing them. Resistance comes with acts of feeling unsafe, but is not impossible. Resisting power structures that keep the most powerful safe will always endanger those of us shoved to the margins. Acknowledging the traumas you’ve faced is a reclamation of your lived experiences, those that have passed and those that will follow; it is resistance that embodies that knowledge that we are deserving of more than the breadcrumbs these systems have forced us to lap up. It is a resistance that understands that pleasure is complicated by trauma, but it can be accessed in arbitrary and powerful ways. It is a resistance that acknowledges that our trauma is a resource that connects us to each other, and can allow us to keep each other safe. It is a resistance that understands that even with pleasure and joy, this is not a utopia; we will still harm and be harmed, but we will be better equipped for survival and thrive in a community of diverse care and kindness. A resistance that makes way for healing and connecting to our full human selves.
Healing will never be an easy and rosy journey, but it begins with the acknowledgment of the possibility. When oppression makes us believe that pleasure is not something that we all have equal access to, one of the ways that we start doing the work of reclaiming our full selves — our whole liberated, free selves — is by reclaiming our access to pleasure.
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha has said in her article in Pleasure Activism (to which she contributed),
I know that for most people, the words “care” and “pleasure” can’t even be in the same sentence. We’re all soaking in ableism’s hatred of bodies that have needs, and we’re given a really shitty choice: either have no needs and get to have autonomy, dignity, and control over your life or admit you need care and lose all of the above.
The power that this has? We understand our traumas, so we understand those of others; we embody the sensations we experience and tend to them rather than distract and avoid. We access pleasure in ways that make us want to share that joy with those in our communities. When we are trauma-informed, we give ourselves more room to experience all this and give ourselves, and others, permission to heal. Imagine, a community in which everyone has access, resources, and time to live pleasurable lives, in whichever way they want and deserve. In which spatial traumas are lessened because the people that occupy them are trauma-aware, are filled with a tender care. Isn’t that healing? Is that not working through generational traumas? Does that not build and sustain healthier futures for us all?
It is time we reconnected with the ancestral knowledge that we deserve to live full lives. We need to get back in touch with our natural right to joy and existing for ourselves. To feel pleasure simply for the sake of it. To not live lives of terror. It sounds radical; it feels radical. In a world where we have been socialised and traumatised to numb, to fear, to feel and remain powerless, to be greedy and live with structural issues that lead to mental illness, what a gift and wonder it is to begin to feel, to be in community with those who feel, to be healthily interdependent in, to love each other boldly. Feeling is radical. Pleasure is radical. Healing is radical.
You have permission to feel pleasure. You have permission to dance, create, make love to yourself and others, celebrate and cultivate joy. You are encouraged to do so. You have permission to heal. Don’t bottle it up inside, don’t try to move through this time alone. You have permission to grieve. And you have permission to live. - adrienne maree brown, “You Have Permission”
Somatic embodiment allows us to explore our trauma, work through it and make meaningful connections to ourselves and the collective. Doing this over time sustains our healing; just like trauma, healing is not a one-time only event. This healing helps move us toward individual and collective liberation.
In “A Queer Politics of Pleasure,” Andy Johnson speaks about the ways in which the queering of pleasure offers us sources of healing, acceptance, release, playfulness, wholeness, defiance, subversion, and freedom. How expansive! When we embody pleasure in ways that are this holistic, this queer, we are able to acknowledge the limitation.
Queering pleasure also asks us the questions that intersect our dreaming with our lived realities.
Who is free or deemed worthy enough to feel pleasure? When is one allowed to feel pleasure or pleased? With whom can one experience pleasure? What kind of pleasure is accessible? What limits one from accessing their full erotic and pleased potential? - Andy Johnson, “A Queer Politics
of Pleasure”
When our trauma-informed pleasure practices are grounded in community care, we begin to answer some of these questions. We begin to understand the liberating potential. As pleasure activists, this is the reality we ground ourselves within. The reality that says, my pleasure may be fractal, but it has the potential to heal not only me and my community, but future bloodlines.
I am a whole system; we are whole systems. We are not just our pains, not just our fears, and not just our thoughts. We are entire systems wired for pleasure, and we can learn how to say yes from the inside out. - Prentis Hemphill, interviewed by Shar Jossell
There’s a world of pleasure that allows us to begin to understand ourselves holistically, in ways that give us room to rebuild the realities that affirm that we are capable and deserving of daily pleasure. BDSM, one of my deepest pleasures, allows me a glimpse into these realities where I can both feel and heal my trauma, as well as feel immeasurable opportunities to say yes from the inside out. While trauma keeps me stuck in a cycle of fight or flight, bondage, kneeling, impact, and breath play encourage me to stay grounded and connected, reconnecting to restoration. Pleasure that is playful allows me to heal, to identify where traumatic energy is stored in my body and focus my energy there. It allows me to express the sensations my body feels through screams of pain and delight, to express my no with no fear and revel in the fuck yes. With a safety plan, aftercare, and a deeper understanding of trauma, kink offers a place of pleasure and healing that is invaluable.
So whether your pleasure looks like cooking a meal at your leisure, engaging in sex, having bed days with your people, participating in disability care collectives, having someone spit in your mouth, going on accessible outings, having cuddle dates, attending an online dance party, spending time in your garden, being choked out in a dungeon,
I hope you take pleasure with you wherever you go. I hope it heals you and your people.
Recognising the power of the erotic within our lives can give us the energy to pursue genuine change within our world. - Audre Lorde, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power”
ExploreTransnational Embodiments
This journal edition in partnership with Kohl: a Journal for Body and Gender Research, will explore feminist solutions, proposals and realities for transforming our current world, our bodies and our sexualities.
نصدر النسخة هذه من المجلة بالشراكة مع «كحل: مجلة لأبحاث الجسد والجندر»، وسنستكشف عبرها الحلول والاقتراحات وأنواع الواقع النسوية لتغيير عالمنا الحالي وكذلك أجسادنا وجنسانياتنا.
Tout au long de ses 38 années de carrière, Debbie Stothard a collaboré avec diverses communautés pour impliquer des États, des organisations intergouvernementales et autres parties prenantes en Asie, en Afrique, en Europe et dans les Amériques sur des questions de droits humains et de justice. Son travail porte essentiellement sur les thématiques des affaires et des droits humains, de la prévention des atrocités et du leadership des femmes. Elle a, de ce fait, animé ou secondé près de 300 formations au cours des 15 dernières années. La plupart de ces formations était des ateliers à destination de groupes de base et organisés sur le terrain, centrés sur le plaidoyer en faveur des droits humains, les connaissances économiques fondamentales, les affaires et les droits humains, la justice transitionnelle et la prévention des atrocités. Son travail dans le domaine de la justice transitionnelle et de la prévention des atrocités s’est principalement déroulé au Myanmar, mais elle a également été conseillère en matière d’interventions dans d’autres situations nationales dans le monde.
Entre 1981 et 1996, Debbie a été reporter spécialisée dans les affaires criminelles, organisatrice d’évènements étudiants, analyste politique, universitaire, conseillère gouvernementale et traiteure en Malaisie et en Australie, tout en étant bénévole pour des causes en lien avec les droits humains. Elle a fondé ALTSEAN-Burma en 1996, qui fut à l’initiative d’un large éventail de programmes sur les droits humains à la fois innovants et autonomisants. ALTSEAN mène notamment un programme permanent et intensif de leadership à destination de diverses jeunes femmes à Burma qui, au cours des 22 dernières années, a aidé à renforcer et élargir le leadership des femmes dans les zones touchées par un conflit. Debbie Stothard a siégé au Conseil de la fédération internationale des droits humains (FIDH) pendant neuf années en sa qualité de secrétaire générale adjointe (2010–2013) puis de secrétaire générale (2013–2019). Elle a mis cette période à profit en promouvant la mission et le profil de la FIDH lors de près de 100 réunions et conférences par année.
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When people come together on a global scale, as individuals and movements, we generate a sweeping force. Join us in Bangkok, Thailand and online in December 2024.
Estamos encantadxs de anunciar el lanzamiento del nuevo podcast de AWID: ESE FUEGO FEMINISTA. Esta serie narrativa revela más de 40 años de movimientos feministas e imagina nuevos caminos a seguir.
En nuestra temporada piloto, escucharán cinco historias cautivadoras que forman parte de la actual constelación de activismo feminista. Presentado por nuestra Gopika Bashi, subdirectora de programas de AWID, cada episodio explora realidades feministas únicas pero interconectadas que están logrando una mayor justicia de género y asegurando derechos humanos.
ESE FUEGO FEMINISTA es producido en asociación con lxs ganadorxs de Webby, Hueman Group Media. Puedes suscribirte al podcast y escuchar nuestro primer episodio aquí.
Encuéntranos en Apple Podcasts, Spotify o donde sea que obtengas tus podcasts. ¡Comparte con tu red! Ayúdanos a difundir historias que enciendan nuestro fuego feminista y nos muevan a la acción.
Doris Valenzuela Angulo était une activiste sociale, leader et défenseure des droits humains afrodescendante de Buenaventura, en Colombie. Elle faisait partie du réseau national Comunidades Construyendo Paz en Colombia (CONPAZ, Communautés construisant la paix en Colombie) composé d’organisations présentes dans les communautés affectées par le conflit armé œuvrant en faveur de la non-violence et la justice socio-environnementale.
Doris s’opposait à la violence paramilitaire continue, aux pressions incessantes des mégaprojets cherchant à déplacer sa communauté, et à la complicité de l’État. Confrontée à l’un des contextes les plus difficiles de son pays, elle joua un rôle de premier plan dans l’initiative de résistance non-violente sans précédent Espacio Humanitario Puente Nayero, un lieu urbain conçu pour assurer la cohésion communautaire, la sécurité, la créativité et l’action collective.
Ce combat non-violent unique en son genre des familles de l’Espacio Humanitario Puente Nayero attira l’attention et le soutien des agences tant locales qu’internationales. En septembre 2014, la Commission interaméricaine des droits de l’Homme accorda des mesures de protection préventives à la communauté, ordonnant au gouvernement colombien d’adopter des mesures nécessaires en vue de protéger la vie et l’intégrité physique des habitant·e·s. Les menaces et la violence des paramilitaires se poursuivirent néanmoins. Malgré l’assassinat de son fils Cristian Dainer Aragón Valenzuela en juillet 2015,Doris continua à mettre toute son énergie à éviter le recrutement forcé des enfants et des jeunes par les néo-militaires. Elle devint alors également une cible, recevant constamment des menaces pour son activisme et le travail qu’elle accomplissait.
Les incessantes agressions et menaces de mort dont elle était l’objet forcèrent Doris à quitter la Colombie. Elle vécut en Espagne de février 2017 à février 2018, dans le cadre du programme de protection temporaire d’Amnesty International pour les défenseur·e·s des droits humains en danger.
Doris a été assassinée en avril 2018 à Murcie, en Espagne, par son ex-compagnon. Elle n’avait que 39 ans.
Hommages :
« Doris, cette année passée avec toi nous a montré combien une personne peut avoir la capacité de transformer et créer de l’espoir en dépit des événements profondément négatifs et dévastateurs qui jalonnent sa vie... Nous poursuivons notre engagement à défendre tous les droits humains. Ton courage et ta lumière nous guideront toujours. » - Montserrat Román, Amnesty International, Groupe de La Palma, Espagne
Extrait de « Mots pour Doris Valenzuela Angulo », d’Elsa López
« ... Tu le savais. Tu l’as toujours su. Et malgré tout cela, tu as résisté sans faillir à tant d’injustice, de misère, de persécution. Tu t’es élevée, fière et acharnée, contre ceux qui continuaient à vouloir que tu abandonnes tout espoir, que tu t’abaisses, que tu te rendes. Debout, tu as réclamé haut et fort ta liberté et la nôtre, qui était la tienne. Rien ni personne n’est parvenu à paralyser tes efforts pour changer le monde et le rendre plus généreux et plus vivable. Tu vis parmi nous, aujourd’hui plus vivante que jamais malgré la mort. Tu vis encore par tes actes, par ton courage, par ta grandeur lorsque tu pleurais pour cette terre promise que tu invoquais à chacun de tes cris, pour tous ces déserts que tu as habités. Toi. Toujours en vie. Doris Valenzuela Angulo.
Ce ne sont que des mots. Je sais. Je le sais, moi aussi. Mais les mots nous unissent, nous protègent, nous donnent la force et le soutien nécessaires pour continuer à aller vers la lumière que tu défendais tant... »
40 Years of AWID: The Scrapbook
Gather, Seed, and Disrupt.
In 2022, AWID celebrates 40 years since our founding. We’re using this moment to reflect on our past and learn from the road traveled as we prepare to look forward, and to forge the journey ahead. As we move through cycles of progress and pushback, we know that struggles for women’s rights and gender justice are iterative and non-linear. In collaboration with artist Naadira Patel, we created a scrapbook that highlights a handful of snapshots from AWID’s last four decades of feminist movement support.
We have not done all this on our own. We share this with deep appreciation for the constellation of feminist activists and groups that have made this work possible. In this context of so many converging crises, we embrace the opportunity to celebrate the power and resilience of feminist movements around the world.
Simone posee 20 años de experiencia de trabajo en apoyo a la gestión y la administración en organizaciones sin fines de lucro, en particular, formación médica de posgrado y capacitación en Tecnologías de la Información y las Comunicaciones. Tiene formación en Apoyo a la Gestión y en Estudios Parajudiciales. Reside en Sudáfrica, disfruta de viajar y es aficionada a la Genealogía.
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Stories of Change AWID Forums
What does an AWID Forum mean to those who have been there? What is this magic that happens when feminists from around the world gather to celebrate, strategize, learn and share joy?
AWID spoke to over forty Forum participants to hear their stories of the transformations that happened to them as activists, to their organizations and to the movements they are part of. We also learned about what we should keep and build on that makes an AWID Forum different and how we can improve.
This report holds lessons and advice invaluable to anyone planning in-person regional and thematic convenings and for us as we plan for the 15th AWID International Forum.
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FRMag - Looking at me Looking at Safe Spaces
Recherche sur les espaces sécurisés : une prise de perspective
par Judyannet Muchiri
Je suis partie pour le Kenya en octobre de l'année dernière, pour entamer ce que j'en suis venue à considérer comme mon travail le plus important à ce jour. (...)
Diana Isabel Hernández Juárez was a Guatemalan teacher, human rights defender and environmental and community activist. She was the coordinator of the environmental program at Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish on the South coast of the country.
Diana dedicated her life to co-creating environmental awareness, working especially closely with local communities to address environmental issues and protect natural resources. She initiated projects such as forest nurseries, municipal farms, family gardens and clean-up campaigns. She was active in reforestation programmes, trying to recover native species and address water shortages, in more than 32 rural communities.
On 7 September 2019, Diana was shot and killed by two unknown gunmen while she was participating in a procession in her hometown. Diana was only 35 years old at the time of her death.
Los placeres como clave para la libertad personal
Por Nkhensani Manabe
El título de la conversación «¿Pansexual, ginosexual o abrosexual? Una exploración de lo queer, el placer y la positividad sexual» da mucho para pensar. Tiffany Kagure Mugo (escritora, educadora y curadora de HOLAAfrica) comienza la sesión con una lectura de Touch [Tocar/Tacto], una compilación recientemente publicada de ensayos de ficción y no ficción sobre sexo, sexualidad y placer. En este fragmento, la autora propone la idea de que el placer es constante y continuo, que está presente en las actividades cotidianas, y que no se circunscribe a las relaciones sexuales.
Esta idea de que el placer es parte de la vida diaria (al igual que tantas otras cosas) atraviesa la conversación, que también abarca temas sobre el deseo, la atracción y la orientación sexual.
Desde el comienzo, existe una sensación de esperanza y posibilidad. Tiffany presenta opciones y explica alternativas, dándonos un nuevo lenguaje para hablar sobre quiénes somos, qué nos gusta, y cómo lo queremos. Esto se refiere al deseo y al sexo, pero se trata primordialmente de autoconocimiento y empoderamiento. Tiffany habla apasionadamente sobre tomar decisiones desde un lugar de poder: aprender sobre la propia identidad para poder elegir lo mejor para unx mismx.
En una conversación abierta y libre, que representa la actitud que Tiffany propone que todxs adoptemos, aprendemos que el conocimiento sobre sexo y sexualidad está en permanente cambio, que los límites se están desplazando. Lo que podemos haber aprendido o, más fundamentalmente, aquello que se nos ocultó durante la infancia o la adultez es exactamente el lugar desde donde deberíamos comenzar a desaprender y reprogramarnos. Tiffany señala que, actualmente, las personas jóvenes necesitan herramientas para comprender las experiencias que ya están teniendo, un recordatorio para no subestimar jamás lo que lxs niñxs y adolescentes saben sobre la clase de placer/es que quieren procurarse en la vida.
La conversación abrió mi mente a esto: conocerme a mí misma me ayudará a desarrollar mi confianza; podré encarar relaciones con cuidado no solo de mí misma sino de otras personas también. Aprender el lenguaje de orientación, atracción, deseo y placer contribuirá a profundizar mis futuras conexiones. Valoré el espacio para pensar sobre este aspecto de mi vida: las partes privadas e íntimas a las que no accedo habitualmente. El entusiasmo de Tiffany sobre el placer y la identidad desplazó mis propias barreras, permitiéndome considerar nuevas posibilidades personales.
La idea de aprender a establecer conexiones holísticas no es algo común todavía. En general, vivimos en una cultura de conexiones instantáneas y pasajeras. Casi no hay tiempo para reflexionar verdaderamente sobre cómo y por qué buscamos relaciones o parejas... al menos, no hasta que llega un momento de crisis.
Por supuesto, existen espacios privilegiados que están abiertos a preguntas y conversaciones, tales como el festival «Crear Résister Transform» de AWID y otras plataformas o publicaciones en línea que promueven la libertad de pensamiento. Pero el acceso a la información de fuentes útiles y sin prejuicios es algo que todavía debe ser descifrado. Esto puede deberse en parte al hecho de que la gente no se siente segura en el lenguaje de la sexualidad y el placer.
La idea del lenguaje y las herramientas se repite durante toda la presentación de Tiffany. Ella y sus colegas están haciendo el trabajo de hablar, enseñar y nutrir, viendo qué es lo que cada persona necesita, dónde están esas personas, qué quieren para sí mismxs, y caminando junto con ellxs mientras construyen sus mundos ideales, brindándoles nuevas palabras y definiciones para ayudarlxs a configurar sus identidades en las diferentes etapas de sus vidas.
Esta es la clase de conversaciones que se necesita, incluso en una sociedad que permanentemente difunde un sinfín de mensajes sobre el cuidado de la salud, con diferentes grados de detalle. A veces la gente debe retrotraerse de las instancias de perspectiva global, y sentirse alentada a aprender sobre sus opiniones y deseos individuales. Esto es lo que hace la ponencia de Tiffany: genera un espacio para cada persona, dentro del rompecabezas general.
Un punto culminante de la ponencia de Tiffany fue la sección sobre los diferentes tipos de atracción:
Sexual: el deseo expreso de tener relaciones sexuales con una o varias personas Sensual: el deseo de tocar a una o varias personas, de estar físicamente cerca, sin necesariamente incluir una relación sexual Romántica: el deseo de salir con una o varias personas, o de estar en una relación con una o varias personas Platónica: el deseo de construir amistades profundas Estética: el deseo de mirar a una o varias personas, sintiendo placer por su apariencia
Estos cinco tipos o niveles de atracción ofrecen una forma abreviada para definir el deseo y el placer, y ayudan a contextualizar las distintas clases de placer que pueden experimentar las personas.
Pensar la atracción más allá de lo físico o sexual ofrece una nueva perspectiva sobre la conexión. Es una oportunidad para restar presión a las relaciones, abriendo oportunidades para asociaciones diferentes, más esclarecidas y satisfactorias.
Esta libertad y este conocimiento que propone Tiffany configuran una hoja de ruta hacia el futuro. La presentación ofreció una nueva perspectiva sobre aquello que es posible.
Tal como lo expresa el fragmento de apertura, el placer es continuo. A la luz de la ponencia de Tiffany, también resulta claro que el placer es dinámico y apasionante. Siempre hay más para aprender.
Esto puede parecer abrumador al comienzo, pero del otro lado del titubeo se encuentran la esperanza, el potencial y la libertad.
