Analyses Spéciales

L´AWID est une organisation féministe mondiale qui consacre ses efforts à la justice de genre, au développement durable et aux droits humains des femmes

S'opposer à l’extractivisme et au pouvoir des entreprises

Dans le monde entier, les femmes défenseuses des droits humains défendent leurs terres, leurs moyens de subsistance et leurs communautés contre le pouvoir des entreprises et des industries extractives. Elles se mobilisent et défient de puissants intérêts économiques et politiques qui motivent la spoliation de terres, le déplacement de communautés, la perte des moyens de subsistance et la dégradation de l'environnement.


Pourquoi résister à des industries extractives?

L’extractivisme est un modèle économique et politique de développement qui œuvre à la marchandisation de la nature et privilégie le profit au détriment des droits humains et de l'environnement. Enraciné dans l'histoire coloniale, il creuse les inégalités sociales et économiques au niveau local et mondial. Le plus souvent, les femmes rurales, noires ou autochtones sont les plus touchées par l’extractivisme et sont largement exclues des espaces de prise de décision en la matière. Les femmes se mobilisent pour défier ces forces patriarcales et néocoloniales et défendre les droits, les terres, les personnes et la nature.

Les principaux risques et les violences basées sur le genre

Les femmes qui s’opposent aux industries extractives vivent une série de risques, de menaces et de violations de leurs droits comme la criminalisation, la stigmatisation, la violence et l'intimidation. Leurs histoires révèlent des aspects évidents de violences sexuelles et basées sur le genre. Parmi les auteurs de ces abus se trouvent les autorités locales et fédérales, les entreprises, la police, les militaires, les forces de sécurité paramilitaires et privées, et parfois mêmes leurs propres communautés.

Agir ensemble

L'AWID et la Coalition internationale des femmes défenseures des droits humains (WHRDIC) ont le plaisir d'annoncer la sortie de leur publication « Les défenseuses des droits humains résistent à l’extractivisme et aux pouvoir des entreprises », un rapport basé sur un projet de recherche transrégional qui relate les expériences vécues par des défenseuses en provenance d'Asie, d'Afrique et d'Amérique latine.

Nous encourageons les activistes, les membres de mouvements sociaux, la société civile, les donateurs et les décideurs à lire et à faire usage des documents suivants pour leur travail de plaidoyer, comme outil pédagogique et comme source d’inspiration :

Partagez votre expérience et vos questions !

Dites-nous comment vous utilisez la boîte à outils sur les défenseur-e-s des droits humains qui résistent à l'extractivisme et aux pouvoir des entreprises.

◾️ Comment ces ressources peuvent-elles soutenir votre activisme et votre plaidoyer ?

◾️ De quelles informations ou connaissances supplémentaires avez-vous besoin pour utiliser au mieux ces ressources ?

Faites-nous part de vos commentaires


Merci !

C’est avec gratitude que l’AWID reconnaît les contributions précieuses de chaque défenseur-e des droits humains qui a participé à ce projet. Cette recherche a été rendue possible grâce à votre volonté à partager vos expériences. Votre courage, créativité et résilience est une source d’inspiration pour nous toutes et tous. Merci !

Contenu lié

Roxana Reyes Rivas

Roxana Reyes Rivas, était une philosophe, féministe, lesbienne, poétesse, politicienne et activiste pour les droits des personnes LGBT et des femmes du Costa Rica. Auteure à la plume acérée et à l’humour incisif, elle était irrésistiblement drôle. Née en 1960 et élevée à San Ramón dans la province d’Alajuela, qui était encore une localité rurale à l’époque, elle a toute sa vie refusé d’adhérer aux attentes envers « les femmes ».   

Avec le groupe de lesbiennes costariciennes El Reguero, Roxana a organisé pendant plus de dix ans des festivals lesbiens, de joyeux espaces de formation où se rassembler à une époque où le gouvernement du Costa Rica et la société persécutaient et pénalisaient l’existence des lesbiennes. Ces festivals lesbiens étaient, pour des centaines de femmes, le seul endroit où elles pouvaient être elles-mêmes et se regrouper avec leurs semblables.

Roxana aimait répéter que la formation de partis politiques comptait parmi ses passe-temps. « Il est important que les gens comprennent qu’il y a d’autres manières de faire de la politique, et que de nombreuses questions doivent être résolues collectivement. » Elle fut également l’une des fondatrices des partis Nueva Liga Feminista et VAMOS, centrés sur les droits humains.

« La philosophie est faite pour bousculer, pour aider les gens à se poser des questions. Une philosophe qui n’irrite personne ne fait pas son travail. » Pendant 30 ans, Roxana a enseigné la philosophie dans plusieurs universités publiques du Costa Rica. Des générations d’étudiant·e·ss ont suivi ses directives et réfléchi aux dilemmes éthiques que posent la science et les technologies.  

L’outil de prédilection de Roxana était l’humour. Elle a créé le prix de l’ignorance La Citrouille étincelante, qu’elle décernait à des personnalités publiques sur ses réseaux sociaux, tournant en dérision leurs expressions et déclarations anti-droits.  

Roxana a été emportée par un cancer agressif fin 2019, avant qu’elle ne puisse publier son recueil de poèmes, qu’elle aurait voulu être le cadeau de départ de l’esprit créatif d’une féministe qui a toujours élevé sa voix contre l’injustice.

FRMag - Esmeralda takes over the Internet

Esmeralda takes over the Internet : How social media has helped Romani women to reclaim visibility

by Émilie Herbert-Pontonnier

Remember Esmeralda? The exotic "Gypsy" heroine born under the pen of the French literary giant Victor Hugo and popularized by Disney studios with their Hunchback of Notre Dame. (...)

Read

< artwork: “Si las marronas lo permiten” by Nayare Soledad Otorongx Montes Gavilan

Snippet - CSW69 On feminist resourcing today - EN

On feminist resourcing today

Embodying Trauma-Informed Pleasure

Decorative Element


Tshegofatso Senne Portrait

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.

Cover for EMBODYING TRAUMA-INFORMED PLEASURE

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”


Decorative element
Cover image for Communicating Desire
 
Explore Transnational 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.

Explore

Cover image, woman biting a fruit
 

التجسيدات العابرة للحدود

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.

استكشف المجلة

Snippet - GII Intro (FR)

Investissement à impact de genre et émergence de fausses solutions :

une analyse pour les mouvements féministes

L'investissement à impact de genre est désormais considéré comme une solution contre les inégalités de genre. Et pourtant, comme le montre notre rapport, il fait partie du problème. Les institutions publiques et privées en font la promotion en tant que moyen pour parvenir à l'égalité de genre et pour accroître les ressources des femmes et des filles.

Mais en aucun cas, ces affirmations ne sont étayées par des preuves.

Au contraire, l’investissement à impact de genre constitue plutôt une nouvelle version de vies et de sociétés soumises à une même logique financière, qui continue de façonner les profondes inégalités de notre monde.

Avec ce rapport, l'AWID offre aux lecteurs·rices - féministes, défenseur·euse·s de la justice de genre et autres parties prenantes de l'investissement à impact de genre - une analyse critique et des preuves étayées pour comprendre l’investissement à impact de genre, ses récits et les implications économiques et politiques qu’il a pour les mouvements féministes.

Nilcéa Freire

Nilcéa Freire was a Brazilian feminist activist, politician and academic. A persevering advocate for women’s rights and those of underrepresented minorities in the country, her life and work carried a long history of struggles and victories.

"While resisting we have to keep pushing for progress, and what we can achieve at this time, in my view, will be through the stupendous organization of young white women, and especially black women, in all of the state capitals and large cities of Brazil." - Nilcéa Freire

In 1999 she became the first woman to occupy the position of Dean at the State University of Rio de Janeiro. Here, she spearheaded the implementation of the first affirmative action policy for students graduating from public schools, requiring reserved places specifically for low-income black students in a public university. This system was adopted in dozens of other public universities. 

Some years later, Nilcéa headed the Special Secretariat of Policies for Women in the government of former president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. In this capacity, she led the first National Women’s Conference. Over 12,000 women from across the country participated and the result of this collective work was embodied in the National Plan for Policies for Women. 

Her commitment to women, Afro-Brazilians and indigenous peoples was also strongly reflected in her work to promote their rights through initiatives of the Brazil Ford Foundation office where she was a regional director. 

The feminist activist Manoela Miklos recounted Nilcéa to be "a woman without equal"

At the age of 66, Nilcéa passed away in Rio de Janeiro on 29 December 2019 of cancer.


"Without words for the news of the death of dear Nilcea Freire. It is too sad to know that she left so early. She was always part of the ranks of those who do not settle for the injustices of the world. She was the Minister of Women, an activist, always active in the feminist cause. Much missed!” - Jandira Feghali, Federal Deputy

Watch Brazilian feminist Nilcea Freire on why we need to show solidarity with Brazil

FRMag - Let the invisible be visible

Hagamos que lo invisible sea visible: manifiesto de unx fisicoculturista de género fluido en Hong Kong

por Siufung Law

«¡97…! 98… ¿dónde está 98? ¡98! ¡Por favor, vuelve a la formación!... ¡99! ¡100!...» La dama detrás del escenario le pedía incesantemente a cada atleta que formara una fila en el espacio húmedo, transpirado y abarrotado detrás de escena. (...)

Leer

< arte: «When They See Us» [Cuando nos ven], Lame Dilotsotlhe

Snippet - CSW69 - Challenging the Status Quo - EN

Challenging the Status Quo

A Critical Dialogue on Gender Equality and Human Rights

✉️ Online registration available. Register here

📅 Friday, March 21, 2025
🕒 2.30pm EST

🏢 Church Center of the United Nations, 11th Floor. 777 United Nations Plaza, New York, NY 10017

🎙️AWID speaker: Anissa Daboussi, Manager, Advancing Universal Rights and Justice team

Organizer: IWRAW AP, OURs, AWID, SRI

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.

Explore our scrapbook below:

You can also explore in full-screen mode.

Download the Scrapbook

Snippet Forum Stories Title

Historias de los Foros de AWID

Leah Tumbalang

Leah Tumbalang fue una mujer lumad de Mindanao, en Filipinas. La historia del pueblo indígena lumad abarca generaciones de resistencia contra la minería corporativa a gran escala, de protección de los territorios ancestrales, los recursos y la cultura, y de lucha por la autodeterminación.

Leah era una líder lumad, y dirigente de Kaugalingong Sistema Igpasasindog to Lumadnong Ogpaan (Kasilo), una organización lumad y campesina que lucha contra la instalación de corporaciones mineras en Bukidnon, en la provincia de Mindanao. Fue inclaudicable en su activismo anti minería, al emprender con fervor campañas  contra los efectos devastadores de la extracción de minerales en el medio ambiente y las tierras de los pueblos indígenas. Era también una organizadora política de la lista electoral Bayan Muna, que integra el partido político de izquierda Makabayan.

Durante casi una década Leah (junto con otrxs integrantes de Kasilo) recibió amenazas debido a su oposición al despliegue de grupos paramilitares, que se cree son respaldados por intereses mineros.

«Como líder lumad de su comunidad, ella está en la primera línea de lucha por sus derechos a la tierra ancestral y a la autodeterminación.» - Kalumbay Regional Lumad Organization

Estar en la vanguardia de la resistencia también significa, a menudo, ser un blanco para la violencia y la impunidad, y Leah no solamente recibió numerosas amenazas de muerte, sino que fue asesinada el 23 de agosto de 2019 en la ciudad de Valencia, en Bukidnon.

Según un informe de Global Witness, «en números absolutos, Filipinas fue el país peor afectado» en lo que respecta a activistas ambientalistas asesinadxs en 2018.


Lee el informe de Global Witness, publicado en julio de 2019

Descubre más sobre las mujeres lumad de Filipinas y su lucha intergeneracional por la autodeterminación

FRMag - Ghosts Of Girlhood

Les fantômes des jeunes filles

par Akua Antiwiwaa

J’ai une vieille photo, floue, devant les yeux. J’y suis vêtue tout de blanc, des perles nacrées attachées à mes cheveux, collés contre mes oreilles, à celles qui pendent de mes poignets. (...)

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illustration : « Cultura Negra » (“Culture noire”), par Astrid Milena González Quintero >

Snippet - WCFM type of funding- EN

Type of funding:

Be it core funding, programmes & projects or rapid response/ emergency grants.

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.

Pleasure Garden exhibition: the photographic and illustrative collaboration produced by Siphumeze and Katia
Exposición en el Jardín de los Placeres: un trabajo colaborativo de fotografías e ilustraciones realizadas por Siphumeze y Katia

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. 

Sex and Spirtuality
Exposición en el Jardín de los Placeres: un trabajo colaborativo de fotografías e ilustraciones realizadas por Siphumeze y Katia

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.

Snippet Forum Quoate Jac s m Kee, Malaysia (FR)

Il n'y a rien de tel que d'être dans un espace partagé, d'échanger des énergies corporelles, de regarder dans les yeux de quelqu'un et de tisser des liens, de voir le monde et de faire quelque chose ensemble. Des événements comme le Forum sont parmi les plus forts du mouvement féministe mondial...
- Jac s m Kee, Malaisie

Sara Hegazy

Sara Hegazy, une audacieuse activiste égyptienne des droits des LGBTQI+, vivait dans une société où les membres de sa communauté, leurs corps et leurs vies sont souvent victimes de préjugés mortels. La résistance de Sara puise ses racines dans le processus de déconstruction d'un système dominant, oppressif et patriarcal, et de ses acteurs antidroits. 

« [En Égypte], toute personne qui n'est pas un homme, musulman, sunnite, hétéro et partisan du système, est rejetée, réprimée, stigmatisée, arrêtée, exilée ou tuée. Ce phénomène concerne le système patriarcal dans son ensemble, étant donné que l'État ne peut pratiquer sa répression contre les citoyens sans une oppression préexistant depuis l'enfance », écrivait Sara Hegazy le 6 mars 2020

La répression de la voix de Sara par le gouvernement égyptien atteignit son paroxysme en 2017, lorsqu’elle fut arrêtée pour avoir brandi un drapeau arc-en-ciel lors du concert de Mashrou' Leila (groupe libanais dont le chanteur principal est ouvertement gai) au Caire. Elle fut ensuite accusée d'avoir rejoint un groupe illégal et « d’incitation à la déviance sexuelle et à la débauche ».  

« C’était un acte de soutien et de solidarité, non seulement envers le chanteur [de Mashrou' Leila] mais pour tou·te·s les opprimé·e·s… Nous étions fier·ère·s de porter le drapeau. Nous ne pouvions imaginer que la société et l’État égyptien réagiraient de cette façon. Ils m’ont vue comme une criminelle, quelqu’un qui cherchait à détruire la structure morale de la société ».  - Sara Hegazy

Sara fut emprisonnée pendant trois mois, durant lesquels elle fut torturée et agressée sexuellement. En janvier 2018, après avoir été libérée sous caution, elle demanda l'asile au Canada où elle vécut en sécurité mais resta prisonnière des souvenirs de la violence et des sévices qu'elle avait subis dans son corps et son âme.

« Je suis sortie de cette expérience au bout de trois mois avec un cas très sévère et grave de SSPT [syndrome de stress post-traumatique]. La prison m'a tuée. Elle m'a détruite », déclara Sara Hegazy à la NPR (Radio d’État)

Sara s'est suicidée le 14 juin 2020, en laissant une note manuscrite en arabe :  

« À mes frères et sœurs - j'ai essayé de trouver la rédemption et j'ai échoué, pardonnez-moi. »
« À mes amis - l'expérience [l’aventure] a été rude et je suis trop faible pour la supporter, pardonnez-moi. » 
« Au monde - tu as été très cruel, mais je te pardonne. »

Son courage et son héritage seront perpétués par toutes les personnes qui l’aimaient et qui croient en ce pour quoi elle s’est battue. 


Hommages :

« À Sara : repose-toi, repose-toi simplement, hors d’atteinte de cette violence implacable, de ce patriarcat étatique meurtrier. Dans la rage, dans le chagrin, dans l'épuisement, nous résisterons. » - Rasha Younes, chercheuse sur les droits LGBT à Human Rights Watch. Lisez le texte complet

Le chanteur de Mashrou’ Leila chante en hommage à Sara Hegazy

Hommages sur Twitter 

Documentaire sur la vie de Sara Hegazy

Site Web dédié à Sara Hegazy et à celleux, particulièrement aux voix LGBTQI, qui n'ont pas la possibilité de faire leur deuil en public

Informe Anual 2012

Nuestro informe anual 2012 destaca los momentos clave de nuestro trabajo durante el año para contribuir al avance de los derechos de las mujeres y la igualdad de género de manera audaz, creativa y efectiva en todo el mundo. 

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