Organizing creatively, facing an increasing threat
Young feminist activists play a critical role in women’s rights organizations and movements worldwide by bringing up new issues that feminists face today. Their strength, creativity and adaptability are vital to the sustainability of feminist organizing.
At the same time, they face specific impediments to their activism such as limited access to funding and support, lack of capacity-building opportunities, and a significant increase of attacks on young women human rights defenders. This creates a lack of visibility that makes more difficult their inclusion and effective participation within women’s rights movements.
A multigenerational approach
AWID’s young feminist activism program was created to make sure the voices of young women are heard and reflected in feminist discourse. We want to ensure that young feminists have better access to funding, capacity-building opportunities and international processes. In addition to supporting young feminists directly, we are also working with women’s rights activists of all ages on practical models and strategies for effective multigenerational organizing.
Our Actions
We want young feminist activists to play a role in decision-making affecting their rights by:
Fostering community and sharing information through the Young Feminist Wire. Recognizing the importance of online media for the work of young feminists, our team launched the Young Feminist Wire in May 2010 to share information, build capacity through online webinars and e-discussions, and encourage community building.
Researching and building knowledge on young feminist activism, to increase the visibility and impact of young feminist activism within and across women’s rights movements and other key actors such as donors.
Promoting more effective multigenerational organizing, exploring better ways to work together.
Supporting young feminists to engage in global development processes such as those within the United Nations
Collaboration across all of AWID’s priority areas, including the Forum, to ensure young feminists’ key contributions, perspectives, needs and activism are reflected in debates, policies and programs affecting them.
Juli Dugdale fue una feminista australiana que practicaba un liderazgo intergeneracional arraigado en los principios del feminismo, la inclusión y la igualdad. Fue líder, colega y mentora para muchas mujeres, especialmente, para las mujeres jóvenes de todo el mundo.
Juli fue una integrante comprometida del equipo del movimiento Young Women's Christian Association [Asociación Cristiana de Mujeres Jóvenes] (YWCA, por su siglas en inglés), una voluntaria y una ferviente defensora del liderazgo de las mujeres jóvenes por más de 30 años.
Se convirtió en un vínculo fuerte entre el movimiento australiano y la Oficina de la YWCA Mundial. Su confianza en la capacidad de liderazgo de las mujeres jóvenes llevó a establecer una asociación de varios años con el Departamento de Asuntos Exteriores y Comercio de Australia y a la creación del manual Rise Up (Rebélate), una guía global para el liderazgo transformador de las mujeres jóvenes, lanzada en 2018.
Juli falleció en Ginebra el 12 de agosto de 2019.
Tributos:
"Para quienes llegaron a trabajar con Juli, fue un privilegio. Quienes no lo hicieron, pueden tener la certeza de que su legado continúa en el trabajo que hacemos cada día y en la misión del movimiento de la YWCA". - YWCA Australia
"Juli Dugdale siempre ocupará un lugar profundo en el corazón de muchas personas en el movimiento de la YWCA, especialmente aquí, en Aotearoa, y a través del Pacífico. Juli tenía una relación especial con el Pacífico y fue un apoyo increíble para las mujeres jóvenes de allí. Ella era humilde, amable, cariñosa, dedicada, apasionada y tenía un corazón generoso. Ella encarnó la visión de la YWCA de "liderazgo transformador" con una extraordinaria visión y previsión de futuro, y ayudó a empoderar a generaciones de mujeres jóvenes líderes de todo el mundo". - YWCA Nueva Zelanda
Tshegofatso Senne is a Black, chronically-ill, genderqueer feminist who does the most. Much of their work is rooted in pleasure, community, and dreaming, while being informed by somatic abolitionism and disability, healing, and transformative justices. Writing, researching, and speaking on issues concerning feminism, community, sexual and reproductive justice, consent, rape culture, and justice, Tshegofatso has 8 years of experience theorising on the ways in which these topics intersect with pleasure. They run their own business, Thembekile Stationery, and their community platform Hedone brings people together to explore and understand the power of trauma-awareness and pleasure in their daily lives. Tshegofatso believes deeply in the individual and collective potential of regenerative and sustainable change, pleasure, and care work.
The body. The most permanent home we have.
The body, not the thinking brain, is where we experience most of our pain, pleasure, and joy, and where we process most of what happens to us. It is also where we do most of our healing, including our emotional and psychological healing. And it is where we experience resilience and a sense of flow.
These words, said by Resmaa Menakem in his book My Grandmother’s Hands, have stayed with me.
The body; it holds our experiences. Our memories. Our resilience. And as Menakem has written, the body also holds our traumas. It responds with spontaneous protective mechanisms to stop or prevent more damage. That is the power of the body. Trauma is not the event; it is how our bodies respond to events that feel dangerous to us. It is often left stuck in the body, until we address it. There’s no talking our body out of this response – it just is.
Using Ling Tan’s Digital Superpower app, I tracked how my body felt as I travelled around different parts of my city, Johannesburg, South Africa. The app is a gesture-driven online platform that allows you to trace your perceptions as you move through locations by logging and recording the data. I used it to track my psychosomatic symptoms – physical reactions connected to a mental cause. Whether that be flashbacks. Panic attacks. Tightness in the chest. A fast heartbeat. Tension headaches. Muscle pain. Insomnia. Struggling to breathe. I tracked these symptoms as I walked and travelled to different areas in Johannesburg. And I asked myself.
Where can we be safe? Can we be safe?
Psychosomatic responses can be caused by a number of things, and some are not as severe as others. After experiencing any kind of trauma you may feel intense distress in similar events or situations. I tracked my sensations, ranked on a scale of 1-5, where 1 were the instances I barely felt any of these symptoms – I felt at ease rather than on-guard and jumpy, my breath and heart rate were stable, I was not looking over my shoulder – and number 5 being the opposite – symptoms that had me close to a panic attack.
As a Black person. As a queer person. As a genderqueer person who could be perceived as a woman, depending on what my gender expression is that day.
I asked myself.
Where can we be safe?
Even in neighbourhoods one might consider “safe,” I felt constantly panicked. Looking around me to make sure I wasn’t being followed, adjusting the way my T-shirt sat so my breasts wouldn’t show up as much, looking around to make sure I knew multiple routes to get out of the place I was should I sense danger. An empty road brings anxiety. A packed one does too. Being in an Uber does. Walking on a public road does. Being in my apartment does. So does picking up a delivery from the front of the building.
Can we be safe?
Pumla Dineo Gqola speaks of the Female Fear Factory. It may or may not be familiar, but if you’re someone socialised as a woman, you’ll know this feeling well. The feeling that has you planning every step you take, whether you’re going to work, school, or just running an errand. The feeling that you have to watch how you dress, act, speak in public and private spaces. The feeling in the pit of your stomach if you have to travel at night, get a delivery, or deal with any person who continues to socialise as a cis man. Harassed on the street, always with the threat of violence. Us existing in any space comes with an innate fear.
Fear is both an individual and a socio-political phenomenon. At an individual level, fear can be present as part of a healthy well developing warning system […] When we think about fear, it is important to hold both notions of individual emotional experience and the political ways in which fear has been used in different epochs for control. - Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
South African women, femmes, and queers know that every step we take outside – steps to do ordinary things: a walk to the shops, a taxi to work, an Uber from a party – all of these acts are a negotiation with violence. This fear, is part of the trauma. To cope with the trauma we carry in our bodies, we develop responses to detect danger – watching the emotional responses of those around us, reading for “friendliness.” We’re constantly on guard.
Day after day. Year after year. Life after life. Generation after generation.
On the additional challenge of this learned defence system, author of The Body Keeps Score, Bessel Van Der Kolk, has said
It disrupts this ability to accurately read others, rendering the trauma survivor either less able to detect danger or more likely to misperceive danger where there is none. It takes tremendous energy to keep functioning while carrying the memory of terror, and the shame of utter weakness and vulnerability.
As Resmaa Menakem has said, trauma is in everything; it infiltrates the air we breathe, the water we drink, the foods we eat. It is in the systems that govern us, the institutions that teach and also traumatise us, and within the social contracts we enter into with each other. Most importantly, we take it with us everywhere we go, in our bodies, exhausting us and eroding our health and happiness. We carry that truth in our bodies. Generations of us have.
So, as I walk around my city, whether an area is considered “safe” or not, I carry the traumas of generations whose responses are embedded in my body. My heart palpitates, it becomes difficult to breathe, my chest tightens – because my body feels as though the trauma is happening in that very moment. I live hyper vigilant. To the point where one is either too on-guard to mindfully enjoy their life, or too numb to absorb new experiences.
For us to begin to heal, we need to acknowledge these truths.
These truths that live in our bodies.
This trauma is what keeps many of us from living the lives we want. Ask any femme or queer person what safety looks like to them and they’ll mostly share examples that are simple tasks – being able to simply live joyful lives, without the constant threat of violence.
Feelings of safety, of comfort and ease, are spatial. When we embody our trauma, it affects the ways we perceive our own safety, affects the ways we interact with the world, and alters the ways we are able to experience and embody anything pleasurable and joyful.
We have to refuse this burdensome responsibility and fight for a safe world for all of us. Walking wounded as many of us are, we are fighters. Patriarchy may terrorise and brutalise us, but we will not give up the fight. As we repeatedly take to the streets, defying the fear in spectacular and seemingly insignificant ways, we defend ourselves and speak in our own name. - Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
Where can we be safe? How do we begin to defend ourselves, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional, psychological, and spiritual senses?
“Trauma makes weapons out of us all,” adrienne maree brown has said in an interview conducted by Justin Scott Campbell. And her work, Pleasure Activism, offers us multiple methodologies to heal that trauma and ground ourselves in the understanding that healing, justice, and liberation can also be pleasurable experiences. Especially those of us who are the most marginalised, who may have been raised to equate suffering with “The Work.” The Work that so many of us have gone into as activists, community builders and workers, those serving the most marginalised, The Work that we struggle in order to do, burning ourselves out and rarely caring for our minds and bodies. The alternative is becoming more informed about our trauma, able to identify our own needs, and becoming deeply embodied. That embodiment means we are simply more able to experience the world through the senses and sensations in our bodies, acknowledging what they tell us rather than suppressing and ignoring the information it is communicating with us.
Being constantly in conversation with our living body and intentionally practising those conversations connects us to embodiment more deeply; it allows us to make tangible the emotions we feel as we interact with the world, befriend our bodies, and understand all that they try to teach us. When understanding trauma and embodiment paired, we can begin to start the healing and access pleasure more holistically, healthily, and in our daily lives without shame and guilt. We can begin to access pleasure as a tool for individual and social change, tapping into the power of the erotic as Audre Lorde described it. A power that allows us to share the joy we access and experience, expanding our capacity for happiness and understanding that we are deserving of it, even with our trauma.
Tapping into pleasure and embodying the erotic gives us the expansion of being deliberately alive, feeling grounded and stable and understanding our nervous systems. It allows us to understand and shed the generational baggage we’ve been carrying without realising; we can be empowered with the knowledge that even as traumatised as we are, as traumatised as we potentially could be in the future, we are still deserving of pleasurable and joyful lives, that we can share that power with our people. It is the community aspect that is missing from the ways we care for ourselves; self-care cannot exist without community care. We are able to feel a deeper internal trust, safety, and power of ourselves, especially in the face of future traumas that will trigger us, knowing how to soothe and stabilise ourselves. All this understanding leads us to a deep internal power that is resourced to meet any challenges that come your way.
As those living with deep generational traumas, we have come to distrust and perhaps think we are incapable of containing and accessing the power we have. In “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” Lorde teaches us that the erotic offers a source of replenishment, a way to demand better for ourselves and our lives.
For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavours brings us closest to that fullness.
I don’t say any of this lightly – I know that this is easier said than done. I know that many of us are prevented from understanding these truths, from internalising or even healing them. Resistance comes with acts of feeling unsafe, but is not impossible. Resisting power structures that keep the most powerful safe will always endanger those of us shoved to the margins. Acknowledging the traumas you’ve faced is a reclamation of your lived experiences, those that have passed and those that will follow; it is resistance that embodies that knowledge that we are deserving of more than the breadcrumbs these systems have forced us to lap up. It is a resistance that understands that pleasure is complicated by trauma, but it can be accessed in arbitrary and powerful ways. It is a resistance that acknowledges that our trauma is a resource that connects us to each other, and can allow us to keep each other safe. It is a resistance that understands that even with pleasure and joy, this is not a utopia; we will still harm and be harmed, but we will be better equipped for survival and thrive in a community of diverse care and kindness. A resistance that makes way for healing and connecting to our full human selves.
Healing will never be an easy and rosy journey, but it begins with the acknowledgment of the possibility. When oppression makes us believe that pleasure is not something that we all have equal access to, one of the ways that we start doing the work of reclaiming our full selves — our whole liberated, free selves — is by reclaiming our access to pleasure.
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha has said in her article in Pleasure Activism (to which she contributed),
I know that for most people, the words “care” and “pleasure” can’t even be in the same sentence. We’re all soaking in ableism’s hatred of bodies that have needs, and we’re given a really shitty choice: either have no needs and get to have autonomy, dignity, and control over your life or admit you need care and lose all of the above.
The power that this has? We understand our traumas, so we understand those of others; we embody the sensations we experience and tend to them rather than distract and avoid. We access pleasure in ways that make us want to share that joy with those in our communities. When we are trauma-informed, we give ourselves more room to experience all this and give ourselves, and others, permission to heal. Imagine, a community in which everyone has access, resources, and time to live pleasurable lives, in whichever way they want and deserve. In which spatial traumas are lessened because the people that occupy them are trauma-aware, are filled with a tender care. Isn’t that healing? Is that not working through generational traumas? Does that not build and sustain healthier futures for us all?
It is time we reconnected with the ancestral knowledge that we deserve to live full lives. We need to get back in touch with our natural right to joy and existing for ourselves. To feel pleasure simply for the sake of it. To not live lives of terror. It sounds radical; it feels radical. In a world where we have been socialised and traumatised to numb, to fear, to feel and remain powerless, to be greedy and live with structural issues that lead to mental illness, what a gift and wonder it is to begin to feel, to be in community with those who feel, to be healthily interdependent in, to love each other boldly. Feeling is radical. Pleasure is radical. Healing is radical.
You have permission to feel pleasure. You have permission to dance, create, make love to yourself and others, celebrate and cultivate joy. You are encouraged to do so. You have permission to heal. Don’t bottle it up inside, don’t try to move through this time alone. You have permission to grieve. And you have permission to live. - adrienne maree brown, “You Have Permission”
Somatic embodiment allows us to explore our trauma, work through it and make meaningful connections to ourselves and the collective. Doing this over time sustains our healing; just like trauma, healing is not a one-time only event. This healing helps move us toward individual and collective liberation.
In “A Queer Politics of Pleasure,” Andy Johnson speaks about the ways in which the queering of pleasure offers us sources of healing, acceptance, release, playfulness, wholeness, defiance, subversion, and freedom. How expansive! When we embody pleasure in ways that are this holistic, this queer, we are able to acknowledge the limitation.
Queering pleasure also asks us the questions that intersect our dreaming with our lived realities.
Who is free or deemed worthy enough to feel pleasure? When is one allowed to feel pleasure or pleased? With whom can one experience pleasure? What kind of pleasure is accessible? What limits one from accessing their full erotic and pleased potential? - Andy Johnson, “A Queer Politics
of Pleasure”
When our trauma-informed pleasure practices are grounded in community care, we begin to answer some of these questions. We begin to understand the liberating potential. As pleasure activists, this is the reality we ground ourselves within. The reality that says, my pleasure may be fractal, but it has the potential to heal not only me and my community, but future bloodlines.
I am a whole system; we are whole systems. We are not just our pains, not just our fears, and not just our thoughts. We are entire systems wired for pleasure, and we can learn how to say yes from the inside out. - Prentis Hemphill, interviewed by Shar Jossell
There’s a world of pleasure that allows us to begin to understand ourselves holistically, in ways that give us room to rebuild the realities that affirm that we are capable and deserving of daily pleasure. BDSM, one of my deepest pleasures, allows me a glimpse into these realities where I can both feel and heal my trauma, as well as feel immeasurable opportunities to say yes from the inside out. While trauma keeps me stuck in a cycle of fight or flight, bondage, kneeling, impact, and breath play encourage me to stay grounded and connected, reconnecting to restoration. Pleasure that is playful allows me to heal, to identify where traumatic energy is stored in my body and focus my energy there. It allows me to express the sensations my body feels through screams of pain and delight, to express my no with no fear and revel in the fuck yes. With a safety plan, aftercare, and a deeper understanding of trauma, kink offers a place of pleasure and healing that is invaluable.
So whether your pleasure looks like cooking a meal at your leisure, engaging in sex, having bed days with your people, participating in disability care collectives, having someone spit in your mouth, going on accessible outings, having cuddle dates, attending an online dance party, spending time in your garden, being choked out in a dungeon,
I hope you take pleasure with you wherever you go. I hope it heals you and your people.
Recognising the power of the erotic within our lives can give us the energy to pursue genuine change within our world. - Audre Lorde, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power”
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.
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. (...)
“Je n’adhère pas au concept de ‘tiers-monde’. Je fais des films pour que les gens puissent les comprendre indépendamment de leur race ou de leur couleur. Pour moi, il n’y a que des exploiteurs et des exploités, c’est tout. Faire un film, c’est prendre position.” - Sarah Maldoror
Sarah Maldoror, cinéaste française d’origine antillaise, fut une pionnière du cinéma panafricain. Elle plaça ses préoccupations politiques et son engagement de longue date dans les mouvements de décolonisation au coeur de son oeuvre.
Son film révolutionnaire Sambizanga (1972), avec son “image révolutionnaire”, retrace la lutte de libération anticoloniale des activistes angolais et retranscrit le point de vue d’une femme qui se trouve dans ce moment historique.
“Pour beaucoup de cinéastes africains, le cinéma est un outil de la révolution, une éducation politique pour transformer les consciences. Il s’inscrivait dans l’émergence d’un cinéma du Tiers-Monde cherchant à décoloniser la pensée pour favoriser des changements radicaux dans la société.” - Sarah Maldoror
Au cours de sa carrière, Sarah a fondé, aux côtés d’un certain nombre d’artistes africain·e·s et caribéen·ne·s, la première compagnie de théâtre noire en France (1956). Elle a réalisé une quarantaine de films, y compris d’importants documentaires qui mettent en valeur les vies et l’oeuvre d’artistes noir·e·s, notamment celles de son ami et poète Aimé Césaire qui lui écrivit ceci:
“À Sarah Maldoror qui, caméra au poing,
combat l’oppression, l’aliénation
et défie la connerie humaine”.
Sarah a également voulu permettre aux femmes africaines de s'approprier davantage le processus de réalisation des films. Dans une interview, elle faisait remarquer :
"La femme africaine doit être partout. Elle doit être à l'image, derrière la caméra, au montage, à toutes les étapes de la fabrication d'un film. C'est elle qui doit parler de ses problèmes…”
Sarah a laissé un héritage incroyablement puissant qui doit être transmis.
Née le 19 juillet 1929, Sarah est décédée le 13 avril 2020 des suites de complications liées au coronavirus.
In 2022, AWID celebrates 40 years since our founding. We’re using this moment to reflect on our past and learn from the road traveled as we prepare to look forward, and to forge the journey ahead. As we move through cycles of progress and pushback, we know that struggles for women’s rights and gender justice are iterative and non-linear. In collaboration with artist Naadira Patel, we created a scrapbook that highlights a handful of snapshots from AWID’s last four decades of feminist movement support.
We have not done all this on our own. We share this with deep appreciation for the constellation of feminist activists and groups that have made this work possible. In this context of so many converging crises, we embrace the opportunity to celebrate the power and resilience of feminist movements around the world.
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. (...)
Gloria Chicaiza, an Ecuadorian social and environmental activist, was a fervent defender of land and water. She defied the status quo, fighting against a model of development based on extraction and worked tirelessly for ecological justice and the rights of communities affected by mining.
In diverse areas of Ecuador, Gloria was part of resistance actions in favour of protecting the ecosystem. With passion and dedication, Gloria supported the indigenous and environmental movement, its communities and organizations who oppose mining projects and protect their territories and collective life projects. She spoke out, in local and international foras, against the criminalization of dissent and resistance, the pressure and violence being enacted against community activists, in particular, women human rights defenders and in support of community led efforts for food sovereignty and sustainability.
She was the Mining Justice Coordinator at Acción Ecológica, member of the Latin American Network of Women Defenders of the Social and Environmental Rights and a Board member at the Observatory of Mining Conflicts of Latin America.
In 2014, Gloria supported the coordination of a delegation to the UN COP 20 Dialogue on Climate Change. The group consisted of 25 Indigenous women from Latin America.
Gloria passed away due to complications from a lung transplant on December 28, 2019. She is remembered for her resistance and tireless work.
"The fastest way to achieve sustainability is still resistance." - Gloria Chicaiza (2010 interview)
Tributes:
“Para GLORIA. GLORIA Agua. GLORIA Tierra. GLORIA Madre. GLORIA Revolución. GLORIA Hermana. GLORIA Cielo. GLORIAmiga. GLORIAstral. Thank you for weaving us together.” -Liliana Gutierrez
“Thank you Glorita, for sustaining hope, for keeping the fabric strong, for connecting the community, for the united hands, for solidarity, thank you Glorita for standing with us in the most difficult moments. Thank you for teaching us that throughout life, nobody gets tired.” (Chakana News)
“Gloria Chicaiza cherished and flourished in being one of many. And as humble as she was, she had an uncanny ability to lead and maintain a steady and thunderous beat, a life-affirming pulse that guided, mobilized, and inspired communities and networks in the protection of Mother Earth. She denounced all forms of violence against cuerpos-territorios. She endorsed el buen vivir.” - Gabriela Jiménez, Latin America Partnerships Coordinator, KAIROS
“Thank you Gloria Chicaiza from infinity we are sure that you will continue to support our struggle. You who continued to struggle with us despite your failing health. You will live on in the forests and the water that you defended with such courage. You will live on in our hearts.”- The community of Intag in Ecuador
El título de la conversación «¿Pansexual, ginosexual o abrosexual? Una exploración de lo queer, el placer y la positividad sexual» da mucho para pensar. Tiffany Kagure Mugo (escritora, educadora y curadora de HOLAAfrica) comienza la sesión con una lectura de Touch [Tocar/Tacto], una compilación recientemente publicada de ensayos de ficción y no ficción sobre sexo, sexualidad y placer. En este fragmento, la autora propone la idea de que el placer es constante y continuo, que está presente en las actividades cotidianas, y que no se circunscribe a las relaciones sexuales.
Esta idea de que el placer es parte de la vida diaria (al igual que tantas otras cosas) atraviesa la conversación, que también abarca temas sobre el deseo, la atracción y la orientación sexual.
Desde el comienzo, existe una sensación de esperanza y posibilidad. Tiffany presenta opciones y explica alternativas, dándonos un nuevo lenguaje para hablar sobre quiénes somos, qué nos gusta, y cómo lo queremos. Esto se refiere al deseo y al sexo, pero se trata primordialmente de autoconocimiento y empoderamiento. Tiffany habla apasionadamente sobre tomar decisiones desde un lugar de poder: aprender sobre la propia identidad para poder elegir lo mejor para unx mismx.
En una conversación abierta y libre, que representa la actitud que Tiffany propone que todxs adoptemos, aprendemos que el conocimiento sobre sexo y sexualidad está en permanente cambio, que los límites se están desplazando. Lo que podemos haber aprendido o, más fundamentalmente, aquello que se nos ocultó durante la infancia o la adultez es exactamente el lugar desde donde deberíamos comenzar a desaprender y reprogramarnos. Tiffany señala que, actualmente, las personas jóvenes necesitan herramientas para comprender las experiencias que ya están teniendo, un recordatorio para no subestimar jamás lo que lxs niñxs y adolescentes saben sobre la clase de placer/es que quieren procurarse en la vida.
La conversación abrió mi mente a esto: conocerme a mí misma me ayudará a desarrollar mi confianza; podré encarar relaciones con cuidado no solo de mí misma sino de otras personas también. Aprender el lenguaje de orientación, atracción, deseo y placer contribuirá a profundizar mis futuras conexiones. Valoré el espacio para pensar sobre este aspecto de mi vida: las partes privadas e íntimas a las que no accedo habitualmente. El entusiasmo de Tiffany sobre el placer y la identidad desplazó mis propias barreras, permitiéndome considerar nuevas posibilidades personales.
La idea de aprender a establecer conexiones holísticas no es algo común todavía. En general, vivimos en una cultura de conexiones instantáneas y pasajeras. Casi no hay tiempo para reflexionar verdaderamente sobre cómo y por qué buscamos relaciones o parejas... al menos, no hasta que llega un momento de crisis.
Por supuesto, existen espacios privilegiados que están abiertos a preguntas y conversaciones, tales como el festival «Crear Résister Transform» de AWID y otras plataformas o publicaciones en línea que promueven la libertad de pensamiento. Pero el acceso a la información de fuentes útiles y sin prejuicios es algo que todavía debe ser descifrado. Esto puede deberse en parte al hecho de que la gente no se siente segura en el lenguaje de la sexualidad y el placer.
La idea del lenguaje y las herramientas se repite durante toda la presentación de Tiffany. Ella y sus colegas están haciendo el trabajo de hablar, enseñar y nutrir, viendo qué es lo que cada persona necesita, dónde están esas personas, qué quieren para sí mismxs, y caminando junto con ellxs mientras construyen sus mundos ideales, brindándoles nuevas palabras y definiciones para ayudarlxs a configurar sus identidades en las diferentes etapas de sus vidas.
Esta es la clase de conversaciones que se necesita, incluso en una sociedad que permanentemente difunde un sinfín de mensajes sobre el cuidado de la salud, con diferentes grados de detalle. A veces la gente debe retrotraerse de las instancias de perspectiva global, y sentirse alentada a aprender sobre sus opiniones y deseos individuales. Esto es lo que hace la ponencia de Tiffany: genera un espacio para cada persona, dentro del rompecabezas general.
Un punto culminante de la ponencia de Tiffany fue la sección sobre los diferentes tipos de atracción:
Sexual: el deseo expreso de tener relaciones sexuales con una o varias personas Sensual: el deseo de tocar a una o varias personas, de estar físicamente cerca, sin necesariamente incluir una relación sexual Romántica: el deseo de salir con una o varias personas, o de estar en una relación con una o varias personas Platónica: el deseo de construir amistades profundas Estética: el deseo de mirar a una o varias personas, sintiendo placer por su apariencia
Estos cinco tipos o niveles de atracción ofrecen una forma abreviada para definir el deseo y el placer, y ayudan a contextualizar las distintas clases de placer que pueden experimentar las personas.
Pensar la atracción más allá de lo físico o sexual ofrece una nueva perspectiva sobre la conexión. Es una oportunidad para restar presión a las relaciones, abriendo oportunidades para asociaciones diferentes, más esclarecidas y satisfactorias.
Esta libertad y este conocimiento que propone Tiffany configuran una hoja de ruta hacia el futuro. La presentación ofreció una nueva perspectiva sobre aquello que es posible.
Tal como lo expresa el fragmento de apertura, el placer es continuo. A la luz de la ponencia de Tiffany, también resulta claro que el placer es dinámico y apasionante. Siempre hay más para aprender.
Esto puede parecer abrumador al comienzo, pero del otro lado del titubeo se encuentran la esperanza, el potencial y la libertad.
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
Finding Sally (2020) Amharic | English with English subtitles
A personal investigation into the mysterious life of the director's Aunt Sally, an Ethiopian aristocrat-turned-communist-rebel who disappeared after the revolution that lead to the overthrow of Emperor Haile Selassie.
Live Conversation with Tamara Dawit, the filmmaker of “Finding Sally”
June 23 at 12:30pm EST on IG Live
Snippet - WCFM Content Body - EN
Feminist and gender justice movements continue to be chronically underfunded in the face of global funding cuts and freezes, and rising fascisms. Growing resource scarcity has impacted the most vulnerable communities, particularly in Global South regions with progressively closing civic spaces.
In response to these challenges, we collaborated with Impactmapper to co-create a comprehensive resource that combines two powerful tools to strengthen the funding ecosystem for social justice movements.
Lorena Borjas, una mujer trans latina y activista, vivía y trabajaba en el barrio de Jackson Heights de Queens, en la ciudad de Nueva York. En esas calles, cuidó de su comunidad durante años, defendiendo los derechos de las personas trans e inmigrantes, apoyando a lxs sobrevivientes del tráfico humano y del abuso, y haciendo campaña por los derechos de lxs trabajadorxs sexuales y de las personas que viven con VIH y SIDA.
Lorena era fuerte e incansable en su lucha por apoyar, defender y proteger a quienes son más marginalizadxs y discriminadxs por la transfobia, la misoginia y el racismo.
«Ella nos empujaba a brillar auténticamente, a convertirnos en un grito de subversión que dice “Aquí estoy, y merezco felicidad también”.» - Cecilia Gentili, activista trans amiga de Lorena
Luego de haber enfrentado ella misma numerosos traumas y dificultades como mujer trans inmigrante y víctima de tráfico humano, recabó conocimientos y memoria emocional de la fuente de sus propias experiencias para ayudar a construir y fortalecer la comunidad de la cual era parte, y que era parte de ella. Algunas de las formas en que llevó esto a cabo fue organizando y movilizando apoyo, que abarcaba desde proveer preservativos y conectar a las mujeres trans con distintos servicios sociales, hasta armar una clínica para el testeo de VIH en su propia casa.
«Era un alma tan bella que ayudaba a otrxs, aun cuando su propio camino era difícil y doloroso como inmigrante, como inmigrante trans. Creía que la comunidad trans necesitaba amor, aceptación, y compasión, y lo daba todo.» - Luchia Dragosh, supervisora de producción de QPTV de un documental sobre Lorena
En sus más de 25 años de activismo, también fundó con Chase Strangio (abogadx y activista por los derechos trans) el Lorena Borjas Community Fund. Este fondo ayuda a lxs diferentes integrantes de su comunidad (y en especial a las personas trans) que lidian con problemas de inmigración, para evitar el ciclo de arresto-cárcel-deportación.
Lorena falleció en marzo de 2020 por complicaciones derivadas del COVID-19.
Su enorme y hermoso legado será llevado adelante a través de las calles de Queens por la red y la comunidad que ella ayudó a crear.
« Continuaremos su trabajo desde donde ella lo dejó, un trabajo que es esencial para el bienestar de “mis pájaras”, como llamaba Lorena a las chicas trans de Queens que protegía bajo su ala.» - Cecilia Gentili
Tributos:
«Lorena nos trajo luz, cuando atravesábamos tiempos muy oscuros aquí en Nueva York. Nos trajo luz cuando tuvimos que enfrentar la epidemia del crack, cuando tuvimos que enfrentar la crisis del SIDA, cuando tuvimos que enfrentar los cambios en las políticas de inmigración.» - Cristina Herrera, fundadora y CEO de Translatina Network y amiga de Lorena
«Lorena ha hecho más que nadie que yo conozca para arrojar luz sobre la epidemia del tráfico en las comunidades transgénero y para ayudar a otras mujeres trans a escapar de la explotación.» - Lynly Egyes, representante de Borjas en nombre del Transgender Law Center
Je sais que vous y êtes presque. Vous le sentez, non? La manière dont les choses doivent changer et que vous devez recentrer.
Ceci est une lettre pour vous dire de le faire. Choisissez votre guérison. Choisissez d’aller bien. Mieux que bien. Choisissez d’être entières, être heureuses. De pleurer pour vous-même et pour personne d’autre. Choisissez de laisser le monde dehors et de lui dire « Je reviens dans cinq minutes ». Ou dans cinq jours. Ou dans cinq ans.
Ou jamais.
Choisissez de ne pas tout prendre. Choisissez de ne rien en prendre. Parce que rien de tout cela n’est à vous. Et ça ne l’a jamais été. On vous dit depuis votre naissance que c’est à vous. Les problèmes de votre famille. Les problèmes de votre amoureuxse. Les problèmes du quartier. Les problèmes du monde. Cette petite voix constante qui vous dit que ces problèmes vous appartiennent. Ils sont à vous. C’est à vous de les tenir, à vous de les supporter. À vous de les régler.
C’était un mensonge.
Un bobard.
Une arnaque.
Une escroquerie.
Les problèmes de l’univers ne sont pas les vôtres.
Les seuls problèmes qui sont à vous sont les vôtres. Tout le reste peut aller se faire voir.
Permettez-vous de tout lâcher et de partir en courant dans la jungle. Faites connaissance avec une nymphe vêtue de marguerites, ouvrez une petite librairie dans les racines d’un arbre. Dansez toute nue et hurlez à la lune. Discutez avec Ochun sur les berges de la rivière.
Ou buvez simplement une tasse de thé quand vous avez besoin de prendre le temps de vous poser.
Donnez-vous la permission de disparaître dans la brume et réapparaissez trois pays plus loin en tant que mystérieuse chocolatière au passé un peu trouble avec un penchant pour les habits excentriques et les cigares.
Ou arrêtez de prendre les appels du travail cette fin de semaine.
Nagez jusqu’à une île déserte avec votre amoureuxse et habillez-vous de noix de coco avec lesquelles vous aurez fait un rhum que vous savourerez au coucher du soleil.
Ou dites non quand vous n’avez pas la capacité de faire de la place à quelqu’un.
Les options pour vous retenir sont innombrables.
Quoi que vous fassiez, sachez que le monde continuera de tourner. C’est là toute la beauté et la douleur de l’expérience. Qui ou quoi que vous choisissiez plutôt que vous-même et votre âme, le monde continuera toujours de tourner.
Donc, choisissez-vous.
Le matin, quand la première lueur apparaît, choisissez-vous. Quand arrive midi et qu’il est l’heure de pleurer pendant vos heures de travail, choisissez-vous. Le soir, quand vous réchauffez des restes parce que vous n’avez pas eu le temps de cuisiner, choisissez-vous. Quand l’anxiété vous réveille et que l’existence fait silence à 3 h 45 du matin.
Choisissez-vous.
Parce que le monde continuera toujours à tournoyer, de guingois, et que vous méritez d’avoir quelqu’un·e qui essaie toujours de le redresser pour vous.
Avec amour, Votre nymphe de la jungle vêtue excentriquement
