WHRDs are self-identified women and lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer and intersex (LBTQI) people and others who defend rights and are subject to gender-specific risks and threats due to their human rights work and/or as a direct consequence of their gender identity or sexual orientation.
WHRDs are subject to systematic violence and discrimination due to their identities and unyielding struggles for rights, equality and justice.
The WHRD Program collaborates with international and regional partners as well as the AWID membership to raise awareness about these risks and threats, advocate for feminist and holistic measures of protection and safety, and actively promote a culture of self-care and collective well being in our movements.
Risks and threats targeting WHRDs
WHRDs are exposed to the same types of risks that all other defenders who defend human rights, communities, and the environment face. However, they are also exposed to gender-based violence and gender-specific risks because they challenge existing gender norms within their communities and societies.
By defending rights, WHRDs are at risk of:
Physical assault and death
Intimidation and harassment, including in online spaces
Judicial harassment and criminalization
Burnout
A collaborative, holistic approach to safety
We work collaboratively with international and regional networks and our membership
to raise awareness about human rights abuses and violations against WHRDs and the systemic violence and discrimination they experience
to strengthen protection mechanisms and ensure more effective and timely responses to WHRDs at risk
We work to promote a holistic approach to protection which includes:
emphasizing the importance of self-care and collective well being, and recognizing that what care and wellbeing mean may differ across cultures
documenting the violations targeting WHRDs using a feminist intersectional perspective;
promoting the social recognition and celebration of the work and resilience of WHRDs ; and
building civic spaces that are conducive to dismantling structural inequalities without restrictions or obstacles
Our Actions
We aim to contribute to a safer world for WHRDs, their families and communities. We believe that action for rights and justice should not put WHRDs at risk; it should be appreciated and celebrated.
Promoting collaboration and coordination among human rights and women’s rights organizations at the international level to strengthen responses concerning safety and wellbeing of WHRDs.
Supporting regional networks of WHRDs and their organizations, such as the Mesoamerican Initiative for WHRDs and the WHRD Middle East and North Africa Coalition, in promoting and strengthening collective action for protection - emphasizing the establishment of solidarity and protection networks, the promotion of self-care, and advocacy and mobilization for the safety of WHRDs;
Increasing the visibility and recognition of WHRDs and their struggles, as well as the risks that they encounter by documenting the attacks that they face, and researching, producing, and disseminating information on their struggles, strategies, and challenges:
Mobilizing urgent responses of international solidarity for WHRDs at risk through our international and regional networks, and our active membership.
Rocky showed inspirational leadership and direction in working with Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Intersex, Queer, Brotherboy and Sistergirl (LGBTIQBBSG) youth at risk.
Rocky started her career with the Queensland Police Service as a Police Liaison Officer. Making a difference was important to her. She led an impressive career working with young LGBTIQBBSG people as the Manager of Open Doors Youth Service.
Rocky worked through complex situations with clients relating specifically to gender and sexual identity. She was a natural in this line of work - a strong community leader, a quiet achiever, a loyal friend, a compassionate nurturer, and a change maker. Rocky was a founding member of IndigiLez Leadership and Support Group.
In 2016 at the Supreme Court in Brisbane, Former High Court Justice Michael Kirby mentioned Rocky by name when praising the work of the LGBTI Legal Service over the years. Rocky fought extremely hard for the human rights of the LGBTIQBBSG community, pushed boundaries and created change in a respectful, loving way.
Snippet FEA collaborator and allies Photo 5 (EN)
Para participar en el Foro, ¿tengo que ser afiliadx de AWID?
No, no es necesario que seas afiliadx de AWID para participar en el Foro, pero lxs afiliadxs de AWID tienen un descuento en el costo de inscripción, y varios otros beneficios.
Um total de 47 perguntas, das quais 27 são obrigatórias* e 20 são opcionais. A maioria das perguntas no inquérito é de escolha múltipla. Encorajamo-lo a responder a todas as perguntas.
Diakite estuvo activamente comprometida con la defensa de las mujeres en la vida política y pública de Mali.
Trabajó para apoyar la capacitación de candidatas electorales y habló en contra de la práctica de la mutilación genital femenina (MGF). Fue una firme defensora de la salud y los derechos reproductivos.
هل عليّ الإجابة على جميع الأسئلة مرة واحدة أو يمكنني العودة الى الاستطلاع؟
يمكنكم/ن حفظ اجوبتكم/ن والعودة للاستطلاع متى أردتم/ن ذلك. KOBO بحفظ مسودات إجاباتك في الزاوية العلوية اليسرى من صفحة الاستطلاع وإعادة تحميل سجلك عند العودة إلى الاستطلاع.
Download your faciliation guide:
"A Feminist Approach to Understanding Illicit Financial Flows and Redirecting Global Wealth"
Andaiye' en swahili significa 'una hija vuelve a casa'. Nació como Sandra Williams el 11 de septiembre de 1942 en Georgetown, Guyana, y cambió su nombre por el de 'Andaiye' en 1970, cuando los movimientos del Black Power [Poder Negro] arrasaron en su país y en la región del Caribe.
Andaiye fue considerada una figura transformadora al frente de las luchas por la liberación y la libertad. Fue una de lxs primerxs integrantes y líder activa de la Working People’s Alliance [Alianza de la Gente Trabajadora] (WPA, por sus siglas en inglés), un partido socialista de la Guyana que luchó contra el régimen autoritario existente y continuó, a lo largo de su vida, centrando su activismo en la justicia para la clase trabajadora y los derechos de las mujeres rurales, y en la superación de las barreras étnicas entre las mujeres Indo y Afro-Guyanesas.
Andaiye fue cofundadora de la Red Thread Women [Hilo Rojo Mujeres], una organización que aboga para que el trabajo de cuidados de las mujeres fuese remunerado justamente, también trabajó en la Universidad de West Indies y con el CARICOM. Andaiye señaló, sin ningún temor a desafiar a los gobiernos, los desequilibrios de género en las juntas estatales, la discriminación de lxs trabajadorxs sexuales en las leyes existentes, reclamó el derecho al aborto en Jamaica, y se pronunció abiertamente contra los acuerdos comerciales como el Caribbean Single Market and Economy [Mercado y Economía Únicos del Caribe] (CSME, por sus siglas en inglés) que permitía la libre circulación de las trabajadoras domésticas migrantes, pero no otorgaba esos mismos derechos a sus hijxs.
Andaiye publicó varios ensayos académicos, escribió columnas de prensa y también editó los últimos libros de Walter Rodney, un activista político guyanés y líder de la AMP, que fue asesinado en 1980. Andaiye sobrevivió a un cáncer y fue una de lxs fundadorxs de la Guyana Cancer Society [Sociedad de Guyana Contra el Cáncer] y del Cancer Survivors’ Action Group [Grupo de Acción de Sobrevivientes del Cáncer]. También fue integrante de la Junta Directiva de la Caribbean Association for Feminist Research and Action [Asociación Caribeña para la Investigación y la Acción Feminista] (CAFRA, por sus siglas en inglés), y Directora del Help and Shelter [Ayuda y Refugio] e integrante de la Junta Directiva de la Guyana National Commission on Women [Comisión Nacional de Guyana sobre las Mujeres]. Andaiye recibió varios premios a lo largo de su vida, entre ellos, la Flecha de Oro de los Logros de Guyana (el cuarto premio nacional más importante del país).
Andaiye falleció el 31 de mayo de 2019 a la edad de 77 años. Los homenajes que posteriormente le rindieron activistas, amigxs y personas inspiradas por su vida dan cuenta, elocuentemente, de su asombroso legado y su hermosa humanidad.
Algunos ejemplos:
"Andaiye tuvo un profundo efecto en mí... fue tantas cosas: una educadora, una luchadora; me enseñó a ser autocrítica, a pensar con más claridad, me enseñó sobre la supervivencia, sobre lo increíble que puede ser el coraje, sobre la compasión, a ir más allá de las apariencias externas y a tratar a la gente como personas y no dejarse distraer por su estatus, clase, raza... o cualquier otra cosa". Peggy Antrobus, activista feminista, autora, académica, Barbados.
"El tipo de idealismo convencido que Andaiye expresó, su voluntad de confrontar el mundo y su creencia obstinada en que realmente lo puedes cambiar... Esa política de la esperanza... ¿De qué otra forma podemos rendir homenaje a su vida, legado y memoria si no es haciendo nuestro trabajo de forma ética y con una autocrítica continua? Y situando el trabajo de cuidados de las mujeres en el centro de todo esto." - Tonya Haynes, Barbados.
"Puedo escuchar sus ocurrencias en nuestro entusiasmo colectivo. Así, a través de las lágrimas, puedo reír. Mis más profundas reverencias a ti, querida Andaiye, gracias por todo. Te deseo amor y luz para el viaje de tu espíritu. Saluda a Walter y a todxs lxs ancestrxs". - Carol Narcisse, Jamaica.
Consideramos a Taipéi como el mejor lugar de la región Asia-Pacífico para construir ese espacio seguro y rebelde destinado a nuestra comunidad feminista global.
Taipéi ofrece un cierto grado de estabilidad y seguridad para la diversidad de participantes que convocamos al Foro. Tiene también capacidad logística, y resulta accesible para muchxs viajerxs (con la facilitación de un trámite de visa electrónico para conferencias internacionales).
El Foro es bien recibido por el movimiento feminista local, que está muy interesado en interactuar con feministas de todo el mundo.
Trouvez et créez des connexions. L’AWID compte plus de 9 000 membres, qui s’efforcent tou·te·s de résoudre des questions complémentaires et interconnectées. Cette diversité favorise la pérennité des mouvements et acteures féministes.
by Alejandra Laprea, Caracas, Venezuela (@alejalaprea)
I live in a country of the impossible, where there are no bombs yet we are living in a war.
A war that exists only for those of us living in this territory.
I live in a country no one understands, which few can really see, where various realities co-exist, and where the truth is murdered time and again.
I live in a country where one has to pay for the audacity of thinking for oneself, for taking on the challenge of seeing life another way.
I live in a country of women who have had to invent and reinvent, time and again, how they live and how to get by.
I live in Venezuela, in a time of an unusual and extraordinary threat.
Since 2012 my country has been subjected to an unconventional war. There are no defined armies or fire power. Their objective is to dislocate and distort the economy, affecting all households, daily life, the capacity of a people to dream and build a different kind of politics, an alternative to the patriarchal, bourgeois, capitalist democracy.
Venezuelan women are the primary victims of this economic war. Women who historically and culturally are responsible for providing care, are the most affected and in demand. However, in these years of economic and financial embargo, Venezuelan women have gone from being victims to the protagonists on the front lines defending our territory.
Battles are fought from the barrios, kitchens, and small gardens. We defend the right of girls and boys to go to school, and to be given something so simple as some arepas for breakfast.
Arepas are a kind of corn cake that can be fried, roasted or baked and served sweet or savoury as a side or main dish. It is a staple in the diet of all Venezuelans.
In Venezuela, arepas mean culture, family, food sovereignty, childhood nostalgia, the expert hands of grandmothers molding little balls, the warmth that comforts you when recovering from illness.
Arepas connect us as a people with the pre-Colombian cultures of corn, a resistance that has endured for more than five centuries. They are the Caribbean expressed differently on firm ground.
They are an act of resistance.
When my mother was a girl, they would start grinding the dry corn early in the morning to make arepas. The women would get up and put the kernels of corn in wooden mortars and pound it with heavy mallets to separate the shells. Then they would boil, soak, and grind the corn to make dough, and finally they would mold it into round arepas. The process would take hours and demand a lot of physical effort.
In the mid-20th century a Venezuelan company industrialized the production of corn meal. For an entire generation that seemed like an act of liberation, since there was now a flour that you could simply add water to and have hot arepas in 45 minutes time.
But that also meant that the same generation would lose the traditional knowledge on how to make them from scratch. My grandmother was an expert arepa maker, my mother saw it as a girl, and for me the corn meal came pre-packaged.
In the war with no military, the pre-cooked corn meal came to be wielded as an instrument of war by the same company that invented it, which was not so Venezuelan anymore: today the Polar group of companies is transnational.
We women began to recuperate our knowledge by talking with the eldest among us. We searched in the back of the closets for our grandmothers’ grinders, the ones we hadn’t thrown away out of affection. Some families still prepared the corn in the traditional way for important occasions. In some towns there were still communal grinding stations which had been preserved as part of local history or because small family businesses refused to die. All of these forms of cultural resistance were activated, and we even went so far as to invent new arepas.
Today we know that in order to resist we cannot depend on one food staple. Although corn arepas continue to be everyone’s favourite, we have invented recipes for arepas made of sweet potato, cassava, squash, and celery root.
We have learned that we can use almost any root vegetable to make arepas. Cooperative businesses have developed semi-industrial processes to make pre-cooked corn meal. In other words, we have recuperated our arepas and their preparation as a cultural good that belongs to all.
My artivism aims to decolonize our senses in everyday life. I like to create spaces that communicate how we weave together our different struggles, and that render visible dissident (re)existences, other possible worlds, and living bodies here in the SOUTH.
As we continue to fight in our struggles, let us remember how essential it is that we support each other, believe each other, and love ourselves and our sisters. When this system fucks us over, we must take time to look after our (physical and mental) health, that of our sisters, and to understand that each one of us carries unique stories, making us fighters in resist
Marga RH (@Marga.RH)
Until dignity becomes a habit
These portraits are inspired by the voices of resistance and protest movements in Latin America, especially by the key role that feminised bodies play in these struggles. It is a tribute to the grassroots feminist movements in resistance.
Dilma Ferreira Silva était une activiste de premier plan des droits amazoniens qui s’est battue durant plusieurs décennies pour les droits des personnes affectées par les barrages.
Elle faisait elle-même partie des 32 000 personnes déplacées par Tucuruí, un imposant barrage hydroélectrique, construit au Brésil sous la dictature militaire de 1964-1985.
En 2005, Dilma a été invitée à rejoindre le Mouvement des personnes affectées par les barrages (MAB) au Brésil et, en 2006, elle y a formé un collectif de femmes pour finir ensuite par devenir coordonatrice régionale du mouvement.
Évoquant son activisme, ses collègues racontent :
« Elle se distinguait très rapidement car elle n’avait jamais peur dans la lutte. »
Dilma vivait dans la localité rurale de Salvador Allenda, à 50 kilomètres de Tucuru. Elle a dédié sa vie à mieux protéger les communautés et les territoires affectés par la construction d’énormes projets. Elle était particulièrement préoccupée par l’impact de genre de ce type de projets et plaidait pour les droits des femmes.
Lors d’une réunion d’ordre national du MAB en 2011, Dilma évoqua les femmes affectées par les barrages, soulignant :
« Nous sommes les réelles Marias, guerrières, combattantes ici, nous nous confrontons au défi de la lutte quotidienne. »
Au cours des années suivantes, Dilma a organisé des groupes de terrain du MAB et travaillé avec les communautés pour former des coopératives paysannes qui permirent de mieux distribuer la nourriture au sein des communautés. Ensemble, elles ont amélioré la commercialisation de la pêche et développé un projet de citerne pour un accès à l’eau potable. Elle défendait aussi les agriculteurs·rices dont les terres étaient convoitées par les « grileiros » (personnes qui s’approprient les terres).
Le 22 mars 2019, à l’âge de 48 ans, Dilma, son mari et leur ami·e furent violemment assassiné·e·s. Ces trois meurtres s’inscrivirent dans une vague de violences en Amazonie contre les Movimento dos Trabalhadores Sem (mouvements des travailleurs·ses sans terre) et les activistes écologistes et autochtones.
