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
El Borrador Cero del documento (con fecha 16 de marzo), preparado por los facilitadores, fue difundido para su discusión durante la segunda sesión redactora a realizarse del 13 al 17 de abril de 2015.
Durante la sesión de apertura, el WWG pidió que se incorporara al Borrador Cero la asignación de recursos específicamente para la igualdad de género y el empoderamiento de las mujeres, tal como lo estipulan el Consenso de Monterrey y la Declaración de Doha.
Guadalupe was an environmental activist involved in the fight against crime in Cherán, Mexico.
Guadalupe helped to overthrow the local government in April 2011 and participated in local security patrols including those in municipal forests. She was among the Indigenous leaders of Cherán, who called on people to defend their forests against illegal and merciless logging. Her work for seniors, children, and workers made her an icon in her community.
She was killed in Chilchota, Mexico about 30 kilometers north of her hometown of Cherá.
Tendencias anti-derechos en los sistemas regionales de derechos humanos
Chapter 6
En la Comisión Africana y en el Sistema Interamericano, los actores antiderechos impulsan nociones esencialistas de cultura y género para impedir el avance de los derechos y socavar las responsabilidades. Como vemos, los actores anti-derechos están ejerciendo su influencia sobre los sistemas regionales de derechos humanos, así como en los espacios internacionales.
La Comisión Africana de Derechos Humanos y de los Pueblos ha comenzado a definir a los derechos sexuales y de las mujeres como un menoscabo a su capacidad de ocuparse de los «derechos reales» y como contrarios a los «valores africanos», con lo cual se establece un precedente anti-derechos preocupante. La anulación del estatus de observador de la Coalición de Lesbianas Africanas es un ejemplo de esta tendencia y muestra la forma en que el espacio para el involucramiento feminista panafricanista está siendo restringido.
En la Organización de Estados Americanos (OEA) y en el Sistema Interamericano de Protección de los Derechos Humanos, las estrategias anti-derechos incluyen la oenegización de grupos religiosos, la utilización de discursos seculares, y la cooptación de marcos de discriminación. La influencia antiderechos se ha materializado de diversas maneras, que incluyen la intimidación de activistas trans y la obstrucción de la introducción de lenguaje progresista en las resoluciones.
Índice de contenidos
Silenciamiento de feministas en el Sistema Africano de Derechos Humanos
Grupos anti-derechos en América Latina: Asamblea General de la Organización de Estados Americanos (OEA) y el Sistema Interamericano de Protección de los Derechos Humanos
¿Debería prepararme de alguna forma para responder la encuesta?
Dado que la encuesta ¿Dónde está el dinero? se centra en las realidades de la dotación de recursos para las organizaciones feministas, la mayoría de las preguntas indagan acerca del financiamiento de tu agrupación entre 2021 y 2023. Para responder la encuesta, necesitarás tener a mano cierta información como, por ejemplo, presupuestos anuales y las fuentes clave de financiamiento.
Qu’est-ce que le processus des Nations Unies sur le financement du développement ?
Le processus de l’Organisation des Nations Unies (ONU) sur le financement du développement (FdD) vise à traiter différentes formes de financement du développement et de coopération pour le développement. Selon le Consensus de Monterrey, ce processus comporte six axes clés :
La mobilisation des ressources financières nationales au service du développement.
La mobilisation des ressources internationales au service du développement : investissements étrangers directs et autres flux financiers privés.
Le commerce international, comme moteur du développement.
L’accroissement de la coopération financière et technique internationale pour le développement.
La dette extérieure.
L’examen des questions systémiques : amélioration de la cohérence et de la constance des systèmes monétaires, financiers et commerciaux internationaux en faveur du développement.
A Winnie la han descripto como una «militante agitadora» que luchó contra el régimen del apartheid en Sudáfrica.
Fue encarcelada numerosas veces y en varias ocasiones fue encerrada en celdas de aislamiento. Ma’Winnie, como la recuerdan afectuosamente, era conocida por hablar abiertamente sobre los desafíos que las mujeres negras enfrentaron durante y después del apartheid, habiendo sido ella misma sometida a esas brutalidades como madre, esposa y activista durante la lucha. Fue más allá del concepto erróneo que sostiene que el liderazgo está basado en el género, la clase o la raza. A pesar de haber sido una figura controvertida, es recordada por muchxs por su nombre en xhosa, «Nomzamo», que significa «la que soporta las pruebas».
Ma’Winnie sigue siendo una inspiración para muchxs, especialmente las jóvenes sudafricanas.
Su muerte incentivó un creciente movimiento bajo el lema: «Ella no murió, se multiplicó».
S'inscrire à la liste de diffusion
Snippet FEA trans and travesti people in Argentina (FR)
Seul·es 18 % des trans et travestis en Argentine ont accès à un emploi formel.
Tout à fait. Vos réponses seront supprimées à la fin du processus de traitement et d’analyse des données. Elles ne seront utilisées qu’à des fins de recherche. Les données ne seront JAMAIS partagées en dehors de l’AWID et ne seront traitées que par le personnel de l’AWID et des consultant·es qui collaborent avec nous à la recherche WITM.
La confidentialité de votre vie privée et votre anonymat sont nos priorités. Notre politique de confidentialité est disponible ici.
Barin était membre de l’unité de combat exclusivement féminine des Unités de protection du peuple kurde (YPG).
Elle a été tuée alors qu’elle était en service actif.
La journaliste libanaise Hifaa Zuaiter a écrit : « Barin représente tout ce que nous avons entendu à propos du courage des femmes kurdes et sa mort représente bien plus que le meurtre d’un-e rival-e ou une perte résultant d’une lutte politique ou ethnique. L’exhibition monstrueuse de sa dépouille par un groupe de rebelles syriens provient du fait qu’en tant que femme combattant sur un champ de bataille réservé aux hommes, elle a osé menacer l’hégémonie masculine ».
A Joy to the World: Six Questions with Naike Ledan
Interviewed by Chinelo Onwualu
Naike Ledan is a social justice defendant, a committed feminist that brings forward 20 years of experience in human rights and health justice advocacy, women’s empowerment, the fight for universal access to basic services and social inclusion, as well as civil society capacity building. She has built extensive work in Canada, West and southern Africa, as well as in Haiti, in civil rights advocacy, capacity building for CSOs, while emphasising the social determinants of structural exclusion. She values the principles of shared leadership, anticolonial, anti-oppressive, and anti-patriarchal spaces.
Chinelo You’re billed as a trans rights activist; I’m curious about how you made that journey.
Naike So, I grew up in Haiti until I was 18, then I lived in Montreal for 19 years. Coming back to Haiti in 2016, I thought I would be coming back home, but the place had changed and I had to readjust. I did not necessarily reconnect in the way that I’d expected to with childhood family and friends. I came back as an expat with a comfortable work situation, and I felt very much like a foreigner for a very long time. And at the same time, I felt very much at home because of the language, the understood silence, the not having to explain when we start singing a commercial – you know, that thing we share, that energy, that space, that spirit.
My return to self-love – I would call “rebirth” – coinciding with giving birth to my first child, giving birth to myself, and falling in love with my queerness or same-gender lovingness. (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
What helped me was, I loved the work of going into the country and documenting people’s knowledge. So I left the comfort. I became a country director of a regional organisation that was queer as fuck! Most of my work was to find resources and build the capacity of civil society. My strategy was to go into the countryside, look for all these little organizations, help build their capacity, and fund them. I was not interested in politicians and shaking hands and taking pictures . I had a very good ally, Charlot Jeudy – the [queer] activist that got killed three years ago in his house. We got very close after an Afro-queer film festival we were planning got banned in Haiti. But it made a lot of noise and sparked conversations about queerness everywhere, so Charlot introduced me to every little CSO in every little corner of the country. And I would just be there to help organisation[s] with registering legally or building their strategic plan. So it’s been a lot of these kinds of work that made me a queer activist and by extension, a trans activist. Although I don’t call myself that – an activist. It’s such a loaded word, you know? And it’s something people call you. I think I’m just a lover and a fighter .
Chinelo Tell me about the workshop you conducted with AWID for the festival. What was it about and what was the context?
My deep self awareness during my childhood years and my engagement in questioning inequalities and injustice at a very very young age (+/- 4 years old). (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
Naike International media doesn’t really talk about Haiti, but with a political environment that is as bad as ours, the economic environment is even more catastrophic. Being a more middle class Haitian, speaking different languages, having different passports, I was initially hesitant to take the space. But I often see myself as a bridge more than someone that would talk about themself. That is how I came to invite Semi, who is a brilliant young trans woman from outside Port-au-Prince, to take the space to talk for herself and walk us through the ecosystem of the realities for trans women in Haiti. We ended up building a session about uninclusive feminism – or, I would say, formal feminist spaces – and how trans girls in Haiti do not have spaces where they can contribute to women’s knowledge and sharing of women’s realities. So the AWID festival was the opportunity for me to give the space to the women who should have it. We had a wonderful time; we had wine online while hosting the conversation. My co-facilitator, Semi, shared what it is like to be a trans child/girl/woman at different stages of her life. She also shared the dangers of the street, of poverty, of exclusion, of “not passing,” and her victories as well.
Chinelo What is the relationship of trans women to feminist organizations in Haiti? What has been your experience with that?
Naike It’s been really hard – heartbreaking, actually – the experience of trans women in Haiti. From not existing at all to just being extremely sexualized. The other thing that’s been happening is how they’re being killed, and how those killings have gone unreported in the media. This is how non-existent, how erased trans women are. They’re everywhere but not in job settings, not in feminist settings, not in organizational settings. Not even in LGBT organizations. It’s only recently, and because of a lot of advocacy push, that some of these organization are kind of readjusting, but in feminist spaces, this is still out of the question. We are still having to deal with the old exclusionary discourse of “They’re not women. Of course, if they can pass…” The culture of passing, it’s a risk management conversation – how much you pass and how much you don’t pass and what it means for your body and the violence it inflicts. In the trans-exclusionary realities we live in, which are reproduced in a lot of feminist spaces, those that pass completely may be considered girls, but only to a certain extent. But how about falling in love, how about having a conversation, how about being in the closet, how about wanting a certain aesthetic, or a career? So really, the conversation about hormone therapy becomes about risk reduction, as Semi herself shared at the workshop. But we don’t have the option of hormone therapy, we don’t have the medical framework nor the system to support those who would like to pursue that option.
Chinelo When you talk about the way that trans people and queer people are thought of in society, it sounds like it might be similar to Nigeria, which can be a deeply homophobic environment.
Naike Haiti is a very complex country in a very beautiful way. Nothing is simple, you know, nothing is ever one way. Haitians are very tolerant – and they’re also very homophobic. You’re going to find regions in the countryside where people aren’t that homophobic at all because all the Vodou temples there, and this is a religion that respects life. One basic principle of the Vodou religion is that all children are children. So, there is no right or wrong in the religion. For the longest time, people thought of Haiti as a haven, a place where people are tolerant – we’re talking 70s, 80s, pre-HIV, 90s even. Then you had the earthquake [in 2010] where around 300,000 people died. And then all this money came from the south of the US through the Evangelicals to rebuild the country and find Jesus. So, the homophobia in Haiti is very recent. In the depth, in the heart of the soul of the culture, I cannot really say that it is homophobic. But in the everyday life, it surely lands on the skin of queer people, that violence. And that of women, of poor women, of dark women as well, because colorism runs deep in the Caribbean.
Chinelo How have you managed this? What’s been your strategy for survival?
My return to Haiti as part of my decolonizing process, and choosing to physically position my senses and my family’s senses to magic and blackness uncompromisingly. (Photo credit: Naike Ledan)
Naike I’m really in love with my work. I love working. When I first arrived, I was working with this horrible NGO but I was doing amazing work. I was always in the countryside, conversing and learning from people, from women. And that filled my heart for so long because I’m very much in love with my culture, with black people, with black women – old black women, black babies. It just fills me up in a spiritual way. When we were in Canada my kids were in these all-white schools and tokenized. They did not speak Creole nor French. And now, they’re running free in the yard and starting to fight in Creole. I also found hubs of survival with the people I met. I created bonds with the queers and others who were weirdos like me and it’s been really wonderful. But now I’m struggling because I don’t feel safe in Haiti anymore. We have about 40 kidnappings per week in Port-Au-Prince – and it’s been like that since 2018. I’ve developed anxiety and panic attacks. So It’s time to go, and I’ve been asking myself, “where is home?” I spent 19 years in Montreal but I never felt at home there. When I left, I never missed it so I don’t want to go back. I’ve been crying a lot lately because it feels like entering a second exile.
Chinelo What’s your relationship to pleasure, leisure, and rest?
Naike My relationship with pleasure, leisure, and rest are for me one and the same. It is the lived moment when I indulge in the heat of the sun on my face for example. It is pleasure, leisure, and rest at the same time.
Pleasure: My go-to space, most solely a haven of celebration of myself. I reserve myself the power and the right to be loud or quiet in the enjoyment of the pleasure I experience. All the pleasure I viciously and abundantly indulge in, including and not limited to the pleasure of solitude and silence.
Leisure: biking, music festivals, eating, wine discoveries, dancing in Haitian traditional Vodou dances are amongst many that occur at the moment.
Rest: is what I live for. As an overachiever and a person that is literally in love with work, it is a paradox how lazy I am. No one knows that because all of what the world sees is this: an accomplished overworker. They do not know how I can just, uncompromisingly and profoundly indulge in idleness.
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.
Anna grew up in Lewes, Sussex (UK) and, after deciding not to pursue her English degree at Sheffield University, she moved to Bristol and became a plumber.
She spent much of her time defending the marginalised and under-privileged, attending anti-fascist rallies, and offering support to the women of Dale Farm when they were threatened with eviction. A vegan and animal lover, she attended hunt sabotages and her name is honoured on PETA's 'Tree of Life' Memorial. Anna went to Rojava in May 2017 with a strong commitment to women's empowerment, full representation of all ethnicities and protection of the environment.
Anna died on March 15, 2018 when she was hit by a Turkish airstrike in the town of Afrin, northern Syria. Anna was fighting with the Women's Protection Forces (YPJ), when she was killed.
