Over the past few years, a troubling new trend at the international human rights level is being observed, where discourses on ‘protecting the family’ are being employed to defend violations committed against family members, to bolster and justify impunity, and to restrict equal rights within and to family life.
The campaign to "Protect the Family" is driven by ultra-conservative efforts to impose "traditional" and patriarchal interpretations of the family, and to move rights out of the hands of family members and into the institution of ‘the family’.
“Protection of the Family” efforts stem from:
rising traditionalism,
rising cultural, social and religious conservatism and
sentiment hostile to women’s human rights, sexual rights, child rights and the rights of persons with non-normative gender identities and sexual orientations.
Since 2014, a group of states have been operating as a bloc in human rights spaces under the name “Group of Friends of the Family”, and resolutions on “Protection of the Family” have been successfully passed every year since 2014.
This agenda has spread beyond the Human Rights Council. We have seen regressive language on “the family” being introduced at the Commission on the Status of Women, and attempts made to introduce it in negotiations on the Sustainable Development Goals.
Our Approach
AWID works with partners and allies to jointly resist “Protection of the Family” and other regressive agendas, and to uphold the universality of human rights.
In response to the increased influence of regressive actors in human rights spaces, AWID joined allies to form the Observatory on the Universality of Rights (OURs). OURs is a collaborative project that monitors, analyzes, and shares information on anti-rights initiatives like “Protection of the Family”.
Rights at Risk, the first OURs report, charts a map of the actors making up the global anti-rights lobby, identifies their key discourses and strategies, and the effect they are having on our human rights.
The report outlines “Protection of the Family” as an agenda that has fostered collaboration across a broad range of regressive actors at the UN. It describes it as: “a strategic framework that houses “multiple patriarchal and anti-rights positions, where the framework, in turn, aims to justify and institutionalize these positions.”
Lorena Borjas, femme trans et activiste latino-américaine, travaillait et vivait dans le quartier de Jackson Heights dans le Queens, à New York. Dans ces rues, pendant des années, elle s’est occupée de sa communauté à plaider en faveur des droits des personnes trans et immigrées, soutenir les individus ayant survécu à la traite des êtres humains et à la maltraitance et défendre les droits des travailleures du sexe et des personnes vivant avec le VIH et le sida.
Lorena se battait avec force, sans relâche, afin d’aider, de défendre et de soutenir les personnes les plus marginalisées et discriminées par la transphobie, la misogynie et le racisme.
« Elle nous a poussé·e·s à briller avec authenticité, à devenir le cri subversif qui affirme “ je suis là et je mérite moi aussi d’être heureux·se ” » - Cecilia Gentili, activiste trans et ami·e de Lorena
Ayant elle-même fait face à de nombreux traumatismes et difficultés en tant qu'immigrée transgenre et victime de la traite des êtres humains, Lorena a puisé dans le puits de ses expériences des connaissances et d’une mémoire émotionnelle afin d'aider à construire et à renforcer la communauté dont elle faisait partie, et qui faisait partie d'elle. Pour ce faire, elle a notamment organisé et mobilisé des aides allant de la fourniture de préservatifs à la mise en relation de femmes trans avec différents services, en passant par la création d'une clinique de dépistage du VIH à son propre domicile.
« C’était une si belle âme qui aidait les autres alors que son parcours d’immigrée, et d’immigrée trans, était difficile et douloureux. Elle était convaincue que la communauté trans avait besoin d’amour, d’acceptation et de compassion, et elle a tout donné. » - Luchia Dragosh, superviseuse de production chez QPTV dans le cadre d’un documentaire sur Lorena
En plus de 25 ans d'activisme, elle a également fondé le Fonds communautaire Lorena Borjas avec Chase Strangio (avocat et activiste des droits des trans), qui aide les nombreux·ses membres de sa communauté (et en particulier les personnes trans) confronté·e·s aux problèmes d'immigration à éviter le cycle arrestation-prison-expulsion.
Lorena est décédée en mars 2020 des suites de complications liées à la COVID-19.
Son oeuvre, gigantesque et merveilleuse, sera poursuivie dans les rues du Queens par le réseau et la communauté qu’elle a cocréés.
« Nous reprendrons son travail là où elle l’a laissé, travail essentiel au bien-être de ses “ pajaras ” (oiselles), comme elle aimait appeler les filles trans du Queens qu’elle avait prises sous son aile. » - Cecilia Gentili
Hommages :
« Lorena nous a apporté de la lumière alors que nous vivions une période très sombre ici à New York. Elle nous a apporté sa lumière alors que nous faisions face à l’ ”épidémie de crack ”, à la crise du sida, aux changements dans les politiques d’immigration. » - Cristina Herrera, fondatrice et directrice générale de Translatina Network et amie de Lorena
« Lorena a fait plus que quiconque pour faire la lumière sur l’épidémie de traite dans les communautés transgenres et permettre à d’autres femmes trans d’échapper à l’exploitation. » - Lynly Egyes (a représenté Borjas pour le compte du Transgender Law Center)
We would like to thank the Amar.ela collective of women feminists activists and creatives who made this series possible, and especially Natalia Mallo (the team’s octopus) for her support and accompaniment throughout this journey.
We also extend our deepest gratitude and admiration to all the collectives and people who participated in this project, and we thank them for sharing their time, wisdom, dreams and hopes with us. We thank you for making this world a more just, feminist and sustainable one.
We hope the rest of the world will be as inspired by their stories as we are.
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. (...)
< artwork: “Si las marronas lo permiten” by Nayare Soledad Otorongx Montes Gavilan
AWID Community Blurb
Join our online community!
The AWID Community is an online social networking platform specifically for AWID. It is a feminist space for connection, resistance and celebration. A space for critical feminist conversations, collective power and solidarity. It is also a space for post-event dialogues, navigating difficult political learnings and community care.
Join AWID membership to be part of the AWID Community today.
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.
Rosane Santiago Silveira was affectionately known as Rô Conceição. A Brazilian environmental and human rights activist, she fervently fought to protect the environment where it was most threatened.
This included defending it on the island of Barra Velha, where it was endangered by oil exploration, as well as safeguarding it by campaigning against land-grabbing and expansion of eucalyptus plantations in Bahia State, where Rosane was a member of the Cassurubá Extractivist Reserve Council.
“Extractive Reserve is a protected area where resident families make their living off natural products extracted from the forest. These activities help maintain the forest integrity.” - Global Justice Ecology Project (original source: Rede Brasil Atual)
She was part of trade union activities, human rights and cultural movements. Rosane dedicated much of herself to causes that were not only close to her but are also of concern to land, forests, rivers, and communities whose rights and lives are continuously at risk.
She was tortured and murdered on 29 January 2019 in Nova Viçosa, a city in southern Bahia.
“Unfortunately, today there is a feeling of total insecurity, because of the State’s absence in prosecuting these crimes. We were with her at Christmas, and everyone realised that she was worried and now we know that she had received three death threats,” - Tuian, Rosane’s son in an interview with Rádio Brasil Atual (original source: Rede Brasil Atual)
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.
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. (...)
«لمّا نكون مُستَقتِلين للتغيير، لِكوننا في حالة مرضٍ وتمرّدٍ في آنٍ واحد، تخلو لغتنا من التعقيد وتنصقل لتعكس أبسط ركائزها. (...) لكن، ومع استمرار المرض والثورة، تصبح اللغة المُصاغة في هذه الحالة وعنها أكثرَ عمقاً وأكثرَ تعبيراً عن الفوارق الدقيقة، وتكون منغمسة انغماساً شديداً في التجربة الإنسانية التي يواجه فيها المرءُ حدودَه عند نهاية العالم». - جوانا هيدفا
بدأنا التخطيط لعدد المجلّة هذا مع نانا داركوا قُبيل مهرجان «ابدعي، قاومي، غيٍّري: مهرجان للحراكات النسوية» لجمعية «حقوق المرأة في التنمية» AWID، وانطلقنا وقتها من سؤالٍ هو بالأحرى ملاحظة حول حالة العالم، ورغبة في تغيير الاعتقادات السائدة: لماذا لا تزال جنسانيّاتنا وملذّاتنا تخضع للترويض والتجريم مع أنّه يتمّ تذكيرنا مراراً وتكراراً بأنّها لا تأتي بأيّ قيمة أو تطوّر؟ واستنتجنا أنّ جنسانيّاتنا، لمّا تتجسّد، فيها ما يتعارض مع النظام العالمي الذي ما زال يتجلّى من خلال ضوابط الحدود، والتمييز العنصري في توزيع اللقاح، والاستعمار الاستيطاني، والتطهير العرقي، والرأسمالية المُستشرية. هل يمكننا إذاً القول إنّ لجنسانيّاتنا قدرةٌ تعطيليّة؟ وهل يصحّ هذا القول عندما ننظر إلى واقع حركاتنا التي يتمّ الاستيلاء عليها ومأسستها في سعيها للتزوّد بالموارد؟
عندما يصبح عملنا المتجسّد مادةً ربحية في أيدي الأنظمة التي نسعى إلى إزالتها فلا عجب أنّ جنسانيّاتنا وملذّاتنا توضَع جانباً من جديد، لا سيّما أنّها ليست مُربِحة بما فيه الكفاية. لقد تساءلنا، في مواقف عدّة خلال إنتاج هذا العدد، ما الذي سيحدث إذا رفضنا مراعاة خدمات الرأسمالية الأساسية؟ لكن هل نجرؤ على هذا التساؤل وقد أنهكنا العالم؟ ربما يتمّ تجاهل جنسانيّاتنا بهذه السهولة لأنها لا تُعتَبَر أشكالاً من أشكال الرعاية. ربما ما نحتاجه هو أن نعيد تصوّر الملذّة كشكلٍ من أشكال الرعاية الجذرية، تكون أيضاً مناهضة للرأسمالية وللمؤسساتية.
بدأنا العام الثاني على التوالي لحالة الجائحة العالمية وكان لا بدّ أن تركّز مقاربتنا للتجسيدات العابرة للحدود القومية على ملاحظة سياسيّة واحدة: أنّ الرعاية هي شكل من أشكال التجسيد. وبما أنّ جزءاً كبيراً من عملنا يتمّ حالياً من دون أيّ اعتبار للحدود بيننا وفينا فنحن جميعاً متجسّدون بشكلٍ عابرٍ للحدود القومية، ونحن جميعاً نفشل. نحن نفشل في رعاية ذاتنا، والأهمّ أننا نفشل في رعاية الآخرين.
هذا الفشل ليس من صنع أيدينا.
إنّ الكثير من أهالينا اعتبروا العملَ مقايضةً، أي أنّه شيءٌ يُعطى مقابل أجرٍ وضمانة بالحصول على الرعاية. صحيحٌ أنّه تمّ الإخلال بهذه المقايضة أحياناً، لكنّ أهالينا ما كانوا يأملون أنّ عملهم سيوفّر لهم الرِضا الذاتي، وكانوا يعتمدون لهذا الغرض على نشاطهم الترفيهي وهواياتهم ومجتمعاتهم. أمّا اليوم، فنحن، أولادهم الذين تمّت تهيأتنا لنعتبر العمل متشابكاً مع الشغف، توقّعاتنا مختلفة تماماً. نحن لا نفرّق بين العمل والترفيه ونعتبرهما عنصراً واحداً، وبالنسبة للكثيرين بيننا، العمل بات يجسّد الذات بكاملها.
إنّ الرأسمالية القائمة على الأبويّة والمغايَرة الجنسية لا ترى لنا أيّ قيمة، ناهيك عن عملنا وجنسانيّاتنا. إنّه نظامٌ سيستمر في طلب المزيد والمزيد منك إلى يوم مماتك، وبعدها سيستبدلك بشخصٍ آخر. يُنتَظَر منّا أن نكون على اتصال بالإنترنت في كلّ الأوقات، ما يعني أنّه لا يمكننا الانصراف عن العمل حتى لو شئنا ذلك. إنّ هذا التَتْجير للعمل وفصله تماماً عن الشخص قد تسلّل إلى كلّ ناحية من نواحي حياتنا، ويتمّ ترسيخ هذا التَتْجير حتى في الأوساط الأكثر نسويّة والأكثر تمرّداً وتشدّداً.
لطالما حمَلَت تطلّعات الرأسمالية ضرراً كبيراً بالأجساد التي لا تتوافق مع النموذج المثالي، وأولئك الذين يسعون إلى ترسيخ سلطتهم استغّلوا الجائحة كفرصة لاستهداف النساء والأقلّيات الجنسية وكلّ مَن يعتبرونه دون المستوى.
تمّ إعداد هذا العدد الخاص بفعل هذا الواقع، وطبعاً، رغماً عن هذا الواقع.
لقد قدّم المساهمون/ المساهمات والعاملون/ العاملات كلّهم تقريباً مجهوداً يفوق طاقاتهم، وكلٌّ من الأعمال الواردة هنا هو نتاجُ سعيٍ شغوف ولكن أيضاً نتاج حالة إنهاكٍ شديد.
يشكّل هذا العدد، بطريقة غايةً في الواقعية، تجسيداً للعمل العابر للحدود القومية، علماً أنّ أيّ عمل في عصرنا الرقمي أصبحَ عابراً لتلك الحدود. وفيما فُرِضَ علينا تقبّل حدود جديدة، وهي حدود لا تخالف النظام القائم سابقاً بل تعزّزه، اختبرنا مباشرةً، إلى جانب مساهمينا، كيف تستنزف الرأسمالية طاقاتنا القصوى – كيف يصبح من الصعب بناء الحجج المتماسكة لا سيّما حينما تكون خاضعة لموعد التسليم. إننا نعاني بشكلٍ جَماعي من فقدان الكلام لأننا أساساً نعاني من فقدان العوالم.
الشعور بالضياع والوحدة في عالم الرأسمالية القائمة على الأبوية والمغايَرة الجنسية هو بالتحديد ما يجعل من الضروري أن نعيد تقييم أنظمة الرعاية التي نتّبعها وأن نُعيد النظر فيها. لقد حوّلنا هذا العدد بوسائل عدّة إلى مهمّة لإيجاد الملذّة في الرعاية. فبما أنّه بات من الصعب بناء الحجج المتماسكة، برزت الوسائط البصرية والمبتكرة وقد لجأ كثرٌ ممن اعتادوا الكتابة إلى هذه الوسائط كطرقٍ لإنتاج المعرفة واختراق الضباب الفكريّ الذي أحاط بنا. لقد ضمّينا في هذا العدد أصواتاً أخرى، بالإضافة إلى أصواتٍ عدّة استمعتم إليها في المهرجان، كوسيلة لإطلاق حوارات جديدة وتوسيع آفاقنا.
بما أنّ كلماتنا قد سُرِقَت منّا، يقضي واجبنا السياسي بأن نستمر في إيجاد الوسائل للحفاظ على أنفسنا والآخرين والاهتمام بأنفسنا وبالآخرين. بالتالي، يصبح تجسّدنا نوعاً من المقاومة إذ هو بداية إيجادنا لسبيل الخروج من الذات ودخولها.
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.
«Soy una maravilla... ¡Por lo tanto, he nacido de una madre! Cuando comienzo a balbucear, Mi vida ha sido como ninguna otra...» - Ayanda Denge (lee el poema completo más abajo)
Ayanda Denge fue unx mujer trans, trabajadorx sexual, activista, poeta. Era una xhosa de Puerto Elizabeth, en el Cabo Oriental de Sudáfrica. Después de viajar por diferentes ciudades del país, se mudó a Ciudad del Cabo.
Como comprometida y ferviente activista por la justicia social, luchó por los derechos de lxs trabajadorxs sexuales, de las personas trans y de quienes viven con VIH y SIDA. Era también conferencista motivacional para concientizar sobre el cáncer, y hacía campaña por viviendas sociales económicas, en especial, para la gente pobre y de clase trabajadora. Ayanda se erguía, alta como una montaña, contra los distintos y, a menudo, abusivos rostros de la discriminación.
«Ser transgénero no es una dosis doble, sino una dosis triple de estigmatización y discriminación. Te discriminan por tu identidad sexual, te discriminan por tu trabajo, y te discriminan por tu estatus de VIH.» - Ayanda Denge, 2016
Ayanda presidía la organización Sex Workers Education and Advocacy Taskforce (SWEAT) [ Grupo de Trabajo para la Educación y la Defensa de Trabajadorxs Sexuales], y trabajaba también como coordinadora de promoción comunitaria en Sisonke, un movimiento nacional de trabajadorxs sexuales de Sudáfrica.
«Desde nosotrxs, desde nuestra sede regional, hasta SWEAT, de la que integro la Junta Directiva, o hasta Sisonke, un movimiento de trabajadorxs sexuales de Ciudad del Cabo, todxs nos amalgamamos, tenemos un solo grito y es un grito que ha sido reconocido internacionalmente por lxs trabajadorxs sexuales internacionales. Queremos la descriminalización del trabajo sexual.» - Ayanda Denge, 2016
Vivía en la Ahmed Kathrada House, que estaba siendo ocupada por la campaña Reclaim the City [Recuperar la Ciudad] en favor de las viviendas sociales. En 2018, Ayanda fue elegida líder de la casa. El 24 de marzo de 2019 fue apuñalada en su habitación. El año anterior, otrx residente había sido asesinadx.
Reclaim the City señala una conexión entre la seguridad de lxs residentes de la casa, el corte del servicio de electricidad por parte del gobierno provincial, y el derecho humano al agua:
«No podemos separar la seguridad de las mujeres y de las personas LGBTQI que están viviendo en la casa ocupada de la negativa a reestablecer los servicios de electricidad y agua en la Ahmed Kathrada House por parte del gobierno de la Provincia del Cabo Occidental.
De noche, la casa está completamente oscura. Necesitamos luces para protegernos unxs a otrxs. Es como si la Provincia quisiera castigar a la gente pobre y de clase trabajadora, cuyo único crimen es necesitar un hogar. Si bien pueden estar en desacuerdo con nuestros motivos por ocuparla, deberían avergonzarse de priorizar la política en detrimento de la seguridad y la dignidad de lxs residentes de esta ciudad.
Descansa en paz, camarada Ayanda Denge. Te recordaremos mientras mantenemos viva la llama de la lucha por una vivienda decente y bien ubicada.»
Poema de Ayanda:
Soy una maravilla…
¡Por lo tanto, nací de una madre!
Cuando comienzo a balbucear,
Mi vida ha sido como ninguna otra.
Nacida en el dolor
Nutrida por la lluvia
Para mí ganar
Era vivir en un desagüe.
Mientras se me cae una lágrima
Me pongo de pie y empuño mi lanza.
Las voces hacen eco, no temas
Habrá desafíos dentro del año,
Desafíos de daño se ciernen sobre mí;
La comunidad aplaude porque asume que he ganado mi carrera;
Pero en realidad mi trabajo avanza a paso de tortuga;
De rodillas me inclino y pido gracia.
Porque el Señor
Es mi espada
Para recordar a la humanidad
Que Él brinda cordura.
¿Por qué Señor soy esta maravilla?
El Señor me responde con la lluvia y el trueno,
Por cuestionar a mi padre
Que tiene en el libro de los corderos
Un nombre llamado Ayanda.
Desde las calles mi vida nunca fue dulce
La gente que tenía que encontrar;
A veces yo nunca saludaba,
Aun a pesar de que tenía que comer;
Optaba por inclinarme
En lugar de sentarme
«Porque mi vida representa la de una flor de loto, ya que de las turbias y turbulentas aguas florecí para ser hermosa y fuerte...» - Ayanda Denge, mira y escucha
Tributos:
«Ayanda, quiero decirte que todavía eres una sobreviviente, en nuestros corazones y nuestras mentes. Te has ido, pero estás en todas partes, porque eres amor. Qué hermoso es ser amadx, y dar amor. Y Ayanda, ese es el regalo que nos has dado. Gracias por todo el amor, verdaderamente te necesitábamos. De ahora en adelante, te prometo que todxs nos comprometeremos a continuar la lucha a la que tanta energía y tiempo dedicaste. Y nos comprometeremos a buscar justicia por este horrible final de tu vida.» - transcripción de un mensaje en un tributo de despedida a Ayanda
«Ayanda era una activista por naturaleza. Sabía cuáles eran sus derechos y no le importaba pelear por los derechos de otrxs. Para mí, no fue una sorpresa que se involucrara en muchas organizaciones, y era sabido que era una persona de la gente. Ella representaba no solo los derechos de las personas LGBTI, representaba los derechos de todxs.» - hermana de Ayanda
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. (...)
The space created by this festival has been so necessary. Necessary for the souls of those who are seeking comfort during these bleakest of times. Necessary for those craving community in what feels like an increasingly isolating world and above all, necessary for those fighting against the very systems that have brought many of us to our knees, especially over the past two years.
“Crisis is not new to feminist and social movements, we have a long history of surviving in the face of oppression and building our communities and our own realities.”
Advocating for alternative visions and alternative realities to the one we are currently living in is a fundamental building block of the feminist agenda. So many amazing people are doing the work of exploring different ways for us to exist in this world. These alternatives are people-centred. They are equitable and just. These worlds are filled with love, tenderness and care. The visions outlined are almost too beautiful to imagine, yet we must force ourselves to imagine because this is the only way we can continue.
Over the past 10 months, I have been incredibly fortunate to be working with a feminist collective that is not just imagining an alternative reality but actively living it. We are inspired by the work of so many other feminist movements across the globe who have not let the white supremacist, capitalist patriarchy deter their visions. This collective has held me together when all I wanted to do was fall apart. Much like the story shared by Maria Bonita on Day 4 of the festival, the liberation I have found in feminist movements is far too great to only be experienced by me. This is something we need to share, that we need to shout from the rooftops as we invite others to join.
Day 4 of the festival brought with it a captivating conversation between Felogene Anumo, Dr Dilar Dirik, Nana Akosua Hanson and Vandana Shiva who encouraged festival attendees to believe that not only is an alternative future possible - but that it is indeed urgent. Feminists have been talking about alternative worlds for so many years and hearing about these from the panellists was not just eye-opening but also comforting. Comforting in the sense that it made me feel safe to know that there are indeed strong, global feminist networks working across international and national borders, seeking to decolonise the established frameworks of our current realities.
What does an alternative reality look like?
During the session, Dr Dirik highlighted the fact that belief, sacrifice and patience are most needed to abolish the oppressive systems we currently live in. Collaboration, partnership, creativity, solidarity and autonomy. These are key pillars to building a global feminist society and they should be embraced by all feminist movements around the world.
Practical examples of these realities can be found across the globe, including the Soulaliyate Women's Land-Use Rights Movement. Referring to the tribal women in Morocco who live on collective land, the Soulalyate Women’s Movement is the first grassroots nationwide mobilisation for land rights in Morocco. Whilst initially the movement was quite small, it grew into a nationwide agenda that challenged the gendered nature of laws regulating land in the country. In 2019, the group contributed to overhauling the national framework legislation on the management of community property through the adoption of three sets of laws guaranteeing the equality of women and men.
Knowing about these feminist movements who are doing the work to make alternative futures a reality is incredibly inspiring and just what is needed, especially as I struggle to grapple with the neverending stream of bad news that seems to flow uninterrupted.
“Capitalist patriarchy is like a cancer. It doesn’t know when to stop growing” - Dr Vandana Shiva
AWID has always been a movement inspired by the feminist realities that we can live in. Through their festivals, as well as feminist realities magazine and toolkit, we have been shown a different way of doing things. We can imagine a world where care is prioritised, where feminist economies and gender justice are the norm. Creating alternative futures is how we fight back, it’s how we resist the violence that is perpetrated against our bodies every day.
The Crear | Resister | Transform Festival has allowed me to feel so connected to a global community, many of whom I will never meet. Knowing that we are all working towards and claiming another world has lit a fire in my soul and I cannot wait to see what the next festival will have in store.
If you missed it, make sure to watch the: "She is on her way: Alternatives, feminisms and another world" session from Day 4 of the festival below. And remember, as Dr Shiva said so eloquently: “Women’s energies will continue life on earth. We will not be defeated.”
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
