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.”
Related Content
Snippet FEA Union Otras Photo 4 (ES)
O meu idioma não é um dos oficiais do inquérito, e estou a ter dificuldades a preencher o mesmo. O que posso fazer?
A AWID compromete-se a alcançar a justiça linguística e lamentamos que, neste momento, não seja viável disponibilizar um inquérito do WITM em mais idiomas. No entanto, caso precise de apoio com traduções ou queira preencher o inquérito em qualquer outro idioma, entre em contacto connosco através de witm@awid.org.
Membership why page - Angelina Mootoo quote
Al unirme a AWID, espero poder ayudar a la movilización del movimiento feminista. No solo para las mujeres privilegiadas, sino para TODAS las mujeres y activistas feministas.- Angelina Mootoo, feminista interseccional y caribeña, Guyana/EEUU
Mereani Naisua Senebici, que l’on appelait aussi « Sua », a été membre de l’Association des jeunes femmes chrétiennes (YWCA) des Fidji pendant de longues années.
En plus d’avoir travaillé avec divers groupes de femmes dans des contextes multiraciaux, ruraux et urbains, elle s’est impliquée dans le soutien et la promotion des droits des femmes et des jeunes femmes.
Au YWCA de Lautoka, elle travaillait avec des femmes d’origine indienne et comptait parmi les pionnières du développement de la pratique sportive et la participation des femmes et athlètes trans localement.
« Les membres du YWCA des Fidji ont profondément aimé Sua pour son dévouement et son soutien inébranlable envers tous les efforts déployés par l’organisation » – Tupou Vere
Mereani faisait partie de la House of Sarah (HoS), une initiative de l’Association of Anglican Women (AAW) lancée en 2009, un organisme de sensibilisation autour des violences basées sur le genre et de soutien des femmes victimes de violence. Ayant commencé sa pratique en tant que bénévole dévouée, elle offrait notamment son soutien aux femmes dans tout le Pacifique.
Mereani s’est éteinte en 2019.
« Une personne qui aimait les gens, qui était présente sur tous les fronts de l’autonomisation des femmes et du travail du mouvement au niveau communautaire. Repose en paix, Sua. » – Tupou Vere
Juli Dugdale was an Australian feminist who practiced intergenerational leadership rooted in principles of feminism, inclusion and equality. She was a leader, peer and mentor for many women and especially young women around the world.
Juli was a dedicated staff member, volunteer and fervent advocate for young women’s leadership with the Young Women's Christian Association (YWCA) movement for over 30 years.
She offered a strong link between the Australian movement and the World YWCA Office. Her trust in the leadership capacity of young women led to a multi-year partnership with the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade and the creation of the Rise Up manual, a global guide for young women’s transformative leadership, launched in 2018.
Juli passed away in Geneva on 12 August 2019.
Tributes:
“For those who got to work with Juli, it was a privilege. For those who didn’t, be assured that her legacy continues in the work we do every day and in the mission of the YWCA movement.” - YWCA Australia
“Juli Dugdale will forever hold a deep place in many people's hearts in the YWCA movement, especially here in Aotearoa and across the Pacific. Juli had a special relationship with the Pacific and was an incredible supporter of the young women there. She was humble, gracious, loving, caring, dedicated, passionate and had a generous heart. She embodied the YWCA's vision of 'transformative leadership' with extraordinary vision and foresight, and helped empower generations of young women leaders around the world.” - YWCA New Zealand
I pray with my family for the first time in six years while wrapped in a keffiyah I scavenged from a dumpster.
Since coming into myself, I have refused to pray in jamaat with my family. Joining in the ranks of hierarchy, “women” behind “men” irks me. It grates my skin and teeth to the degree where I can’t focus, and the standing, bowing, and kneeling feels like a battle against my true being. Each second listening, a betrayal of my nature. Instead, I pray by myself in my own way.
Yet this Ramadan, I feel different. Back in my childhood home after many years, I am choosing to fast. I choose suhoor with my family, and praying together feels like a natural extension of eating together. After eating, my mother, father, brother and I line up for fajr.
I pray behind Baba, but my prayer is my own. I close my eyes, staying with my breath and my body.
My eyes closed, I open my inner sight to a wide open window on a vista of mountains, bright sun spreading over a light mist of clouds. This was the view I had while praying in jamaat at a queer Muslim wedding I attended in the mountains of the South of France last September.
I lined up with the wedding guests, queer and trans folks of North and West African, Arab, and European descent. Folks of all faiths joined while some chose to stand in respect at the sides or behind. The groups did not fall along fault lines of “Muslim” or “non-Muslim,” “religious” or “non religious.” The two lovers marrying each led us in prayer, and so did the Muslim woman officiating the nikkah. Each of the three led us in two rounds of prayers, two raqat.
I showed up as I was, my body uncovered. I had not washed. I only passed my camera to a friend who chose to stand at the side.
In the first sujood, I broke down crying. I wore a jean dress that loves my body, one found at a thrift store my ex-girlfriend pointed me to.
The sobs come through my whole body during the prayer, and I put my head to the earth with my community like a homecoming. A return to the embrace of love both intensely personal and communal, and I am held.
It feels like swimming in the sea with multiple people: joyful togetherness. But when you go beneath the water, it’s just you and the current.
Like a dozen people buried in the same graveyard. Separate, but sharing the same soil. Becoming one with the growing earth.
That was how it felt to pray in communion at a queer Muslim wedding.
I welcomed the light of acceptance while showing up as myself that day, with a group of people who had also chosen to claim all the parts of themselves in love. That light made a home in me, and it illuminates my heart in the dark living room at fajr this Ramadan morning. Though I pray with my birth family who do not accept all of me, I see myself praying in jamaat at that glorious wedding with all of my queer Muslim ancestors, my queer angels, my lineage, my soul family, my queer Muslim family, all standing in prayer. Bowing as one.
My family’s home does not always feel like my own, though I am here now. I take the bukhoor from room to room, barefoot. Smolder from the censer, an incense that says, “Here I am.” Baraka, blessings from the source of all, Allah and the Goddess to each room in the house, bidding good and dispersing the unbidden.
As I write this the sky turns the same royal blue I am familiar with from exiting the club and pulling all-nighters. It is the gradient of morning I step into as I go to sleep.
Word meanings:
Ramadan: the Muslim holy month, traditionally observed with 29 days of fasting without food or water during daylight hours
Keffiyah: a patterned scarf common in the SWANA region. The black and white version referred to here is associated with the Palestinian liberation movement
Pray in jamaat: Islamic ritual prayer in a group. Participants follow one person, traditionally male, who calls the prayer aloud.
Suhoor: the meal before the fast starts at dawn
Fajr: the dawn prayer
Baba: father
Raqat: one round of prayer consisting of standing, bowing, kneeling, and pressing the head to the ground
Sujood:the prayer position when one presses one’s head to the earth
Nikkah: the religious marriage ceremony
Bukhoor: an Arabic incense, woodchips soaked in resin
Pictures of angels in my life, just some women and non-binary people of color hanging out, taking care of themselves and expressing love to each other. It's these simplest moments that are the most empowering.
Snippet FEA No feminist economies without feminist unions (EN)
No feminist economies without feminist unions!
Through labor and union organizing, Sopo, Sabrina and Linda are not only fighting for the rights of essential workers, women workers, migrant workers and sex workers, but the rights of all workers.
The fight to end workers’ exploitation is a feminist struggle, and shows us that there are no feminist economies without feminist unions.
Я не хочу делиться названием организации и контактной информацией с AWID – могу ли я пройти опрос?
Безусловно, эти вопросы являются необязательными, мы ценим ваше право сохранять конфиденциальность. Пожалуйста, заполните опрос независимо от того, указываете вы название вашей группы, организации и/или движения и контактные данные или нет.
FRMag - The Triple
The Triple Cripples: Let’s talk about sex, baby!
by Nandini Tanya Lallmon
Olajumoke ‘Jay’ Abdullahi and Kym Oliver are revolutionary feminists in more ways than one. (...)
«No adhiero al concepto de “Tercer Mundo”. Hago películas para que las personas (no importa de qué raza o color sean) puedan entenderlas. Para mí, solamente existen explotadores y explotadxs, eso es todo. Hacer una película significa tomar una posición.» - Sarah Maldoror
Sarah Maldoror, una cineasta francesa descendiente de una familia de las Indias Occidentales, fue una pionera del cine panafricano. Sus inquietudes políticas ocupaban el centro de su trabajo, junto con su permanente involucramiento en los movimientos de descolonialización.
La innovadora Sambizanga (1972), su «película revolucionaria», sigue la lucha de liberación anticolonial de lxs militantes de Angola y capta la perspectiva de una mujer en el momento histórico en que se encuentra.
«Para muchxs cineastas africanxs, el cine es una herramienta revolucionaria, una educación política para crear consciencia. Se inscribe en la evolución de un Tercer Cine, que se orienta a descolonizar el pensamiento y promover cambios radicales en la sociedad.» - Sarah Maldoror
A lo largo de su carrera, Sarah (junto con otrxs artistas africanxs y caribeñxs) cofundó, en 1956, la primera troupe de teatro negra de Francia. Realizó alrededor de cuarenta películas, incluidos importantes documentales que difundieron la vida y la obra de artistas negrxs, entre lxs cuales se encuentra su amigo y poeta, Aimé Césaire, quien le escribió:
«A Sarah Maldo
que, cámara en mano,
lucha contra la opresión, la alienación
y se planta de cara
frente a la estupidez humana.»
Sarah estaba también dedicada a lograr que las mujeres africanas se apropiaran más del proceso de filmación. En una entrevista, señaló:
«Las mujeres africanas deben estar en todos lados. Deben estar en las imágenes, detrás de la cámara, en la sala de edición, y participar en todas las etapas de la realización de una película. Ellas deben ser quienes hablen sobre sus problemas.»
Sarah dejó un legado formidable para que sea continuado.
Nacida el 19 de julio de 1929, Sarah falleció el 13 de abril de 2020 debido a complicaciones por el coronavirus.
