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.”
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Snippet FEA Intro Acknowledgments (FR)
Nous tenons à remercier le collectif Amar.ela de femmes féministes militantes et créatives qui ont rendu cette série possible, et tout particulièrement Natalia Mallo (le poulpe de l'équipe) pour son soutien et son accompagnement dans ce voyage.
Nous exprimons également notre profonde gratitude et notre admiration à tous les groupes et personnes qui ont participé à ce projet, et nous les remercions d'avoir partagé leur temps, leur sagesse, leurs rêves et leurs illusions avec nous. Nous les remercions de faire de ce monde un monde plus juste, féministe et durable.
Nous espérons que leurs histoires inspireront le reste du monde autant qu’elles nous ont inspirés.
FRMag - Esmeralda takes over the Internet
Esmeralda aux contrôles d’Internet : comment les réseaux sociaux aident les femmes roms à gagner en visibilité
par Émilie Herbert-Pontonnier
Vous vous souvenez d’Esmeralda? Cette héroïne « gitane » et exotique née sous la plume de Victor Hugo, géant de la littérature française, et rendue célèbre par les studios Disney et leur Bossu de Notre-Dame. (...)
Aïssata Kane, also fondly known as “Yaye Kadia” (Mother Kadia), was a feminist with a lifelong committment in advocating for African and especially Mauritanian women’s rights.
In her career as a politician, she was appointed Minister of Family Protection and Social Affairs in 1975, the first time a woman held such a position and in which Aïssata fervently worked to improve the status of women in her country.
This work included advancing girls’ and women’s education, fighting against the practice of force-feeding of young women, lobbying for an inclusion of a marital rights provision, and advocating for a female representation quota to be created in the Parliament.
“[Aïssata] realized all her passions with humility, courage and determination. She didn’t want to disturb anyone by her fight on all these fronts at the same time.” Ball Halimata Dem, Aïssata’s niece
She founded the National Union of Women of Mauritania (UNFM), co-creating and publishing Marienou for them, a magazine dedicated to the emancipation of Mauritanian women. Aïssata also directed several sub-regional and local organizations, including as the President of the International Association of Francophone Women (AIFF) and as a resolute ecologist, she was President of the Association for the Protection of the Environment in Mauritania (APEM).
In 2018 she received the Pioneer Woman Award. It honors her work in advancing Mauritania’s women’s status and recognizes her strong leadership and sense of innovation.
📅 Martes 11 de marzo de 2025
🕒 De 06:00 a 08:00 p. m.,
🏢 Chef's Kitchen Loft with Terrace, 216 East 45th St 13th Floor New York
Organiza: AWID
FRMag - Let the invisible be visible
Let the invisible be visible: A Genderfluid Bodybuilder’s Manifesto in Hong Kong
by Siufung Law
“97..! 98.. where is 98? 98! Please come back to the lineup!... 99! 100!...” The backstage lady relentlessly asked each athlete to queue up at the humid, sweaty, overcrowded backstage. (...)
“Si nos mantenemos en silencio, nos matan. Si hablamos (nos matan) también. Así que, hablemos” Cristina Bautista, 2019.
Cristina Bautista fue una integrante de la comunidad Indígena Nasa, cuyo hogar se sitúa en la región del norte del Cauca, en Colombia. Cristina formó parte de la resistencia Nasa como líder y defensora de los derechos de la tierra, pero también como trabajadora social y gobernadora de la reserva Indígena Nasa Tacueyó.
Incansable defensora de los derechos del pueblo Nasa, Cristina habló alto y claro sobre la violencia dirigida contra su comunidad. En un discurso ante las Naciones Unidas, Cristina reclamó la protección de las vidas de las mujeres indígenas, y su participación en las diferentes esferas de la vida. En 2017, Cristina entró en el programa de Becas Indígenas de la Oficina de Derechos Humanos de la ONU y en 2019 recibió una subvención del Fondo de Contribuciones Voluntarias de la ONU para los Pueblos Indígenas.
"Me gustaría sacar a la luz la situación actual de los pueblos indígenas en Colombia, el asesinato de líderes indígenas, la represión de las protestas sociales. El acuerdo de paz, en lugar de ayudar, lo que ha hecho es reforzar el conflicto y la explotación de territorios sagrados en Colombia... En la situación actual, en casi todas las naciones indígenas, como mujeres, estamos trabajando para encontrar un futuro mejor para nuestras familias. No quiero que más mujeres del campo vivan en estas circunstancias. Las mujeres indígenas necesitamos oportunidades para participar en la vida política, económica, en la sociedad y en la cultura. Hoy me da fuerzas ver a todas estas mujeres aquí y ver que no estoy sola". - Cristina Bautista, 2019
El 29 de octubre de 2019, Cristina fue asesinada junto a cuatro guardias indígenas desarmados en un ataque que, supuestamente, fue llevado a cabo por miembros armados del grupo disidente de las FARC "Dagoberto Ramos".
Según Global Witness, "en los últimos años el asesinato de líderes comunitarios y sociales ha aumentado dramáticamente en Colombia".
"La comunidad Nasa ha alertado repetidamente a las autoridades sobre las amenazas que reciben y que ponen en peligro su seguridad. Sin embargo, a pesar de los esfuerzos que ponen los sucesivos gobiernos colombianos, los pueblos indígenas siguen corriendo grandes riesgos, especialmente, las figuras clave religiosas o comunitarias como Cristina Bautista". - Reunión informativa de la ONU para la prensa (en inglés), 1 de noviembre de 2019.
The Circle’s Conspiracy of Writers | Wazina Zondon
Also known as the Teta Research Network, The Conspiracy of Writers was founded in 2021 in the context of Kohl’s weekly writing circles. The Network is a transnational group of queer and feminist writers who engage in collective writing, thinking, and world-making.
Wazina Zondon is an Afghan raised in New York City. Her storycollecting and storytelling work centers collective memories and rites of passage in the diaspora. Currently, she is working on Faith: in Love/faith in love which (re)traces her parent’s love story and family’s inherited love print.
Love is a contraband in Hell,
cause love is acid
that eats away bars.
But you, me, and tomorrow
hold hands and make vows
that struggle will multiply.
The hacksaw has two blades.
The shotgun has two barrels.
We are pregnant with freedom.
We are a conspiracy.
It is our duty to fight for freedom.
It is our duty to win.
We must love each other and support each other.
We have nothing to lose but our chains.
- “Love” by Assata Shakur
“If we can inherit trauma, can we inherit an imprint related to love?”
That is the question Wazina Zondon asks in her collective memoir Loveprint. Loveprint is a wandering, an overlap, a deviation that (re)creates, at the intersection of interviews and personal essays, our family’s stories and insights on love, partnership and romance. Under Wazina’s guidance, the circle’s conspiracy of writers came together and attempted to reproduce this literal blueprint in the form of collective writing, where our different stories, our genders and sexual identities complement and contradict each other. With our voices overlapping, we complete each other’s sentences to create a conversation, a memorial, pieces of ourselves that speak to a “we.”
What are the origins of your love print?
I am a so-called “happy accident.” There is much narration about this – an accidental life, one that is entirely wanted at the same time. I feel this shaped my way of loving, I don’t just fall in love; I risk the slips that lead to the fall. Perhaps it made me an amor fati kind of person.
I was told that I was an unwanted child. So I grew up to become an unwanted adult. The origins of my love print are based on being eternally unwelcomed. I am not a fruit of love or any happy feelings but rather one pain and burden. I don’t have a love print – at least not in this sense.
I know for a fact that both my parents were in love at some point, but mental health is such a demon, and until one confronts their demons, there is no winning.
I will never associate “love” with my parents or normative family. Love growing up was full of violence and responsibilities I didn’t sign up for or was even ready for. For the longest time, it felt like life and love were about carrying a big rock uphill. While my parents “loved each other,” it was a toxic ethos of violence, jealousy, and insecurity to grow up in. I grew up wanting to crave stability, and this is what is me now. I am a risk taker, but never in my “love space.”
I don’t know why my mother chose to host a child (me) within her. She does not love in this form.
My mother tells me that if I have to think about “finding” love, I should never look at her marriage as a template. My love print comes instead from my raising dogs for the last two decades (18 years to be precise). The other way around is true as well – they raised me. I understand more and more about love and its many layers in their company.
I haven’t known love from a “print.” In our household we don’t talk about love. I had to teach myself how to love. It was hard work. Still, I fail and still, I keep on trying and I fail everyday. Perhaps failure is my love print.
My love print is the care, warmth, and understanding I give to others
surrounding me, whether a stranger, a friend, a relative, a lover. My love print is political – uncalculated and unthought of.
I was born under heavy shelling.
My love print is the negative
print of that.
Lessons learned about love
I know more about what love is not than I know about what love is.
Love is neither anxiety nor panic.
Love is not asking permission to live or breathe. It is always about love and there is no love without freedom.
Everything you do is about using your heart except love. Love is about using your mind.
Sometimes I fear that my love language is lost in translation.
--- There are many ways
to map the origins
of how to
how not to
love
not love
love just enough
love far too much
some love
some loss
to love
to love lost ---
I cannot stand the idea of the couple. I cannot stand the idea of living alone while aging either. I am tired of doing the chores alone, moving houses alone, paying rent and bills alone... I imagine getting a stroke alone, and it scares me. I have no plan of “partnering up.” I want a world where I can get married to a friend, buy a house with a friend, not have sex.
Loving many does not corrupt a love shared between two, and whether love is romantic or not is really not that important.
When I reflect on the shoddy state of my relationships, I realize that I am in the relationship I was trained to be in. With all my “radicalness” I have not yet unlearned shitty gendered norms.
My need for stability feels “not radical” enough. I want to get out of this labeling. I want something I never had. I want to make it beautiful. I want to feel beautiful and safe – and only stability makes me feel that. Safe, sound, knowing home is neither about violence nor strife.
--- Love print – love to smell the books to see
where they were printed
I try to think of the origin of my
understanding and practice of love
Do we need origin, it is not the same as purity?
No purity or origin of love.
Why is it understanding and practice,
and not “emotion” that comes to mind? ---
When I call my parents, I don’t hang up the phone after we’ve said
goodbye, so I can hear the sounds of home.
What do we need to be/feel loved in death?
During my Sunni burial, I want all the women and men to come together for my burial. What’s with not being able to go say goodbye to dead people from a different sex? It will be Sunni because my mother would want it to be. It will be eco-friendly; no need for the headstone. I love all burial rituals. Quran is good, but I also want music. I really like Asmahan, Um Kulthum, and The Stone Roses.
I have a Monday-Friday playlist and two different ones for the weekend: one for Saturday and one for Sunday playlist. I would like those who loved me to play the music that I used to listen to, respecting the days – with some margin of tolerance as long as they stick to the playlists.
I want to be surrounded by the one(s) who have loved me, even for a moment. And in music and embowered in fresh cut flowers. I don’t want to be discovered dead; I want to pass away mid-laugh with loved ones.
I want to be remembered as someone who loved.
I don’t need to feel loved in death. I need the people around me to feel I loved them, even after I die. Being loved in death is about those who are alive. So I think more about how we come together as a living and loving community in the death of those we love and live with. How we take their memories with us. How we become archives of their lives.
--- Sometimes, you can only love people in their death. ---
I have to think back to the body being connected to a space. My family is very tiny and although we come from different places, it is as if every generation moved somewhere new. Perhaps this is the reason why death is not connected to a special place, a cemetery. It is common in our family to bury the dead without names or gravestones, or to distribute the ashes in the wind. I feel at peace with this kind of spaceless remembrance. The idea that my ashes fertilize new life gives me the sense of being loved, being remembered through recreation. My grandmother died earlier this year due to complications after the vaccination. Two hours after she died, my family sat laughing tears about her jokes, her hilarious way to tell stories. We laughed and loved, and it was as though she sat with us again. This is what would make me feel at peace – fertilizing soil, fertilizing conversations, and collective remembrance.
--- There were
Two streets that I used
To walk
To run
To play
To stay
There were
Five hours when the sun
Was hot
The sky was blue
The earth was green
There was
A flower I could
Smell
Touch
Squeeze
Crush
There were
The friends I could
Caress
The food
I could
inhale
The language
That would roll off my
lips
There might still be
Those many places
And things
And people
After me ---
Perhaps a promise that I will be “spatially commemorated” as a plant and taken care of in turns until it becomes a tree is enough. No name, no plaques – just the plant/tree, and knowing that it will be cared for. As for my body, I want to be cremated without any rituals and my bone ashes set free in the Arabian sea.
I need my body to be treated as subversively as it’s lived.
I do not want to be buried next to my family. In this tiny drawer next to all of the people who never knew me. Trapped in death as I was in life. I want to be cremated, and my ashes finally set free.
I want to be allowed to pass, not hang in the in-between, so it is a presence, an active process, a trespassing.
I will ask of you:
To release me and let me pass
To not let nostalgia muddy this moment because I will ask only for the normalcy of your expressions
I have snuck the gentle glimpses and hoarded away the already small and large ways you loved me in order to be sustained. I kept myself alive on these
To set a finite amount of time to grieve
To be be reminded there is no separation in the beauty of loving; it is infinite and it regenerates without the body
I want to be remembered for the love I put into the world.
I want my body to be given away, and my organs
to further fuel love in (an)other live(s).
--- The smell of jasmine ---
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.
Delante mío hay una foto vieja, borrosa. En ella, estoy toda vestida de blanco, desde las perlas sujetas en mi cabello y apretadas contra mis orejas, hasta las que rodean holgadamente mis pequeñas muñecas. (...)
Paulina Cruz Ruiz, originaire de Rabinal dans la région de Baja Verapaz au Guatemala, était une défenseuse des droits humains au pouvoir ancestral Maya Achí (autochtone). Elle participait activement à la mobilisation et à la résistance communautaires, notamment via des mesures juridiques contre des projets miniers sur des territoires autochtones, aux effets sévères et néfastes pour leur tissu socioenvironnemental.
« Le modèle d’industrie extractive promu par le gouvernement guatémaltèque et la construction de projets de développement à grande échelle sur des terres autochtones, sans le consentement des communautés, est source de litiges constants avec les mouvements de résistance. » - Minority Rights Group International (groupe international pour les droits des minorités)
Paulina a également participé à la Marche pour la dignité, la vie et la justice, durant laquelle des milliers de guatémaltèques ont initié, le 1er mai 2019, une marche de huit jours contre la corruption et l’impunité face aux poursuites et aux assassinats de défenseur·e·s des droits humains, des terres ainsi que de leaders paysan·ne·s et autochtones.
Paulina a été assassinée le 14 septembre 2019 près de chez elle, dans le village de Xococ.
D’après Minority Rights Group International, « l’une des problématiques constantes qui affecte le plus les communautés mayas tient dans l’accroissement des activités de l’industrie minière. »
📅 Friday, March 14, 2025
🕒 2.30pm EST
🏢 Blue Gallery, The Blue Building, 222 East 46th Street
🎙️Facilitated by: Anissa Daboussi, Manager, Advancing Universal Rights and Justice team
Organizer: SRI, AWID
Chers mouvements féministes : Une lettre du conseil d'administration
Chers mouvements féministes,
Au nom du Conseil d’administration, je souhaite exprimer notre plus profonde gratitude, notre appréciation et tout notre respect pour Hakima Abbas et Cindy Clark, nos deux extraordinaires codirectrices exécutives ces cinq dernières années, qui quittent leurs fonctions pour laisser place à un nouveau leadership de l’AWID, alors que nous entrons dans une nouvelle phase de la vie de notre organisation avec un nouveau plan stratégique. Elles ont systématiquement mis en application les meilleurs principes de leadership organisationnel féministe et d’éthique du soin lorsqu’elles nous guidaient, lors des temps bien troubles et imprévisibles de la récente histoire du monde, cette syndémie de COVID-19 et la spirale politique mondiale descendante qui s’en est suivie. Elles ont tenu l’AWID, notre personnel et notre CA fermement, doucement et avec amour alors que nous éprouvions toutes et tous ces situations inconnues. Elles se sont également accrochées à la vision et à la mission de l’AWID lorsqu’elles ont dû, avec respect et stratégie, réagir aux différents changements, dont la difficile annulation du forum de l’AWID.
La nature, la portée et le poids des responsabilités de la direction de l’AWID nous incitent à choisir de conserver, à l’avenir, ce modèle de codirection. Notre première expérience de cette codirection a été une véritable réussite, comme tout le monde a pu le constater.
Reconnaissant tout à fait le potentiel immense qui existe au sein de l’équipe actuelle, le CA a décidé de privilégier un processus de recrutement en interne dans un premier temps. Nous pensons terminer cette transition d’ici la fin de l’année 2022. Hakima et Cindy décaleront leur départ, pour permettre une transition en douceur vers le nouveau leadership.
Il est difficile pour le Conseil d’administration et d’autres, qui ont travaillé étroitement avec elles et qui les aiment, de voir Cindy et Hakima quitter l’AWID. Rassurez-vous, le CA de l’AWID mène ce processus de transition de manière à ce que les belles marques indélébiles et inspirantes que laissent Hakima et Cindy soient inscrites dans les quatre décennies de notre histoire. Nous assurerons l’arrivée et le soutien de la nouvelle direction et veillerons à ce que ce processus nous inspire à faire mieux encore à cette étape de la vie de l’AWID.
Les grandes transformations dans les organisations ne sont jamais simples ni faciles. Elles sont parfois contraintes, hors du contrôle de quiconque, tendues, voire destructrices. J’ai vu, mais vous aussi, des exemples de telles transitions. Il arrive également que les besoins et les aspirations du personnel soient alignés avec ceux de l’organisation. Bien que nous n’ayons ni choisi ni souhaité le départ de Cindy et Hakima, leur décision et l’entrée de l’AWID dans un nouveau plan stratégique et une nouvelle décennie d’existence sont alignées. Et mieux que tout encore, nous sommes entre les mains merveilleuses, super compétentes, créatives et féministes du personnel et du CA de l’AWID.
Nous vous remercions, chers mouvements féministes, pour votre confiance dans l’AWID. Nous vous demandons également de soutenir notre transition de leadership au cours des mois à venir. Continuons à construire, approfondir et renforcer nos connexions, comme nous le faisons depuis 40 ans.
Nous reviendrons vers vous dans les prochaines semaines pour vous tenir au courant de nos mises à jour et des évolutions concrètes.
Avec solidarité et amour féministes, Margo Okazawa-Rey,
Présidente, Conseil d’administration de l’AWID
No hay nada como estar en un espacio compartido, intercambiar energías corporales, mirar a alguien a los ojos y establecer conexiones, ver el mundo y hacer algo juntxs. Eventos como el Foro se encuentran entre los más fuertes del movimiento feminista mundial... - Jac s m Kee, Malasia
Film club - outrun
Out Run (2016) Anglais | Tagalog avec sous-titres anglais
Mobilisant des coiffeurs·ses transgenres de la classe ouvrière et des reines de beauté, les leaders dynamiques du seul parti politique LGBT au monde mènent une quête historique pour élire une femme trans au Congrès philippin.
