Young Feminist Activism
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.
Related Content
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.
Nadine Ramaroson
Son soutien aux femmes et aux personnes les plus vulnérables de sa communauté a fait que Nadine était un modèle pour beaucoup. Elle était déterminée à aider les pauvres et les sans-abri en particulier.
Bien que sa mort ait été déclarée comme étant accidentelle, la famille Ramaroson, sur l’initiative de son père André Ramaroson, a mené une enquête qui a mis en évidence des preuves de son assassinat. Elle serait décédée dans un accident mortel survenu entre Soanierano - Ivongo et Ste Marie - une histoire qui a été réfutée par sa famille. Elle avait reçu de nombreuses menaces de mort pour ses positions politiques résolues. L’affaire est toujours en cours auprès des tribunaux à Antananarivo (la capitale de Madagascar).
Snippet FEA Wage Parity (EN)

WAGE PARITY
Anatomy of a Survivor's Story
Maryum Saifee (@msaifee), New York, USA
When you do a search for “Female Genital Mutilation” or “FGM” online, an image of four line-drawings of the female anatomy pop up next to its Wikipedia entry. It illustrates four types of violence. The first being a partial cut to the clitoris. The second, a more invasive cut with the entire clitoris removed. The third is progressively worse with the removal of the clitoris, labia majora and minora. And the fourth box illustrates a series of hash marks to symbolize stitches over the vaginal opening to allow only for urination and menstruation.
As a survivor of FGM, most questions about my story fixate on the physical. The first question I usually get asked is what type of FGM I underwent. When I told a journalist once that I went through Type 1, she said “oh, that’s not so bad. It’s not like type three which is far worse.” She was technically right. I had the least invasive form. And for many years, I gaslighted myself into feeling a sense of relief that I was one of the lucky ones. I comforted myself noting that I could have been less fortunate with all of my genitalia gouged out, not just the clitoral tip. Or worse I could have been one of the ones who didn’t survive at all. Like Nada Hassan Abdel-Maqsoud, a twelve year old, who bled to death on a doctor’s operating table earlier this year in Upper Egypt. Nada is a reminder to me that for every data point -- 200 million women and girls who live with the consequences of FGM globally -- there is a story. Nada will never be able to tell hers.
As much as I find the label “survivor” suffocating at times -- I also realize there is privilege embedded in the word. By surviving, you are alive. You have the ability to tell your story, process the trauma, activate others in your community and gain insights and a new language and lens to see yourself through.
The act of storytelling can be cathartic and liberating, but it can also shatter the storyteller in the process.
Without integrating the psychosocial support of trained clinicians into storytelling and healing retreats, well-intentioned interventions can result in more trauma. This is all the more important as FGM survivors navigate the double pandemic of their own PTSD from childhood trauma, and the indefinite COVID-19 global shutdown.
In many anti-FGM advocacy spaces, I have seen this insatiable hunger to unearth stories -- whatever the cost to the storyteller. The stories help activate funding and serve as a data point
for measuring impact.
Survivor stories then become commodities fueling a storytelling industrial complex. Storytellers, if not provided proper mental health support in the process, can become collateral damage.
My motivation in writing this piece is to flip the script on how we view FGM survivors, prioritizing the storyteller over the story itself.
FGM survivors are more than the four boxes describing how the pieces of our anatomy were cut, pricked, carved, or gouged out. In this essay, I’ll break down the anatomy of an FGM survivor’s story into four parts: stories that break, stories that remake, stories that heal, and stories that reveal.
Type 1: Stories that break
I was sitting in the heart of Appalachia with a group of FGM survivors, meeting many for the first time. As they shared their traumas, I realized we all belonged in some way or another to the same unenviable club. A white Christian survivor from Kentucky - who I don’t think I would have ever met if we didn’t have FGM survivorship connecting us - told the contours of her story.
There were so many parallels. We were both cut at seven. She was bribed with cake after her cut. I was bribed with a jumbo-sized Toblerone chocolate bar when mine was over. Absorbing her trauma overwhelmed me. And I imagine when I shared my story, others in the circle may also have been silently unraveling. We didn’t have a clinician or mental health professional in a facilitation role and that absence was felt. The first night, I was sharing a room with six other survivors and tried hard to keep the sounds of my own tears muffled. By the last day, I reached breaking point. Before leaving for the airport, my stomach contracted and I convulsively vomited. I felt like I was purging not only my pain, but the pain of the others I’d absorbed that week. We all dutifully produced our stories into 90 second social media friendly soundbites with narration and photos. But at what cost?
Type 2: Stories that remake
On February 6, 2016, the Guardian published my story as a survivor. The second it was released, I was remade. My identity transformed from nondescript, relatively invisible mid-level Foreign Service Officer to FGM survivor under a public microscope. That same day, then-U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Samantha Power tweeted my story with the introduction: “I was seven years old” before linking to the article. The tweet symbolized a moment for me where my personal and professional worlds collided. Since then, they have been forever intertwined.
Even though I spent ten years of my career as a diplomat focused on other issues -- I lived in Cairo during the early days of the Arab Spring in 2011 and served in Baghdad and Erbil when the Syrian revolution turned from an uprising to civil war -- all of those past experiences that began to make mefeel erased. When I spoke on panels, my identity would be reduced to “survivor.” Like other survivors, I have worked hard to rewrite the script on how others see me.
I reinsert pieces of my other identities when speaking to underscore to the broader public that while yes, I am a survivor of childhood trauma and while my FGM story may have remade a part of my identity, it doesn’t define me.
Type 3: Stories that heal
With the guidance of a mental health expert, I have spent the last few months doing a deep dive into my FGM survivor story. I have told and retold my story over dozens of times in public venues. My goal is to break the culture of silence and inspire action. At this point, the telling of my story has almost become mechanized, as though I am reciting a verse from the Quran I memorized as a kid. I would always start with: “I was sitting an anthropology class when a fellow student described her research project on Female Genital Mutilation. And that’s when I had the memory jolt. A memory I had suppressed since childhood came flooding to the foreground.” I go into the details of what happened in granular detail -- the color of the floor, the feelings of confusion and betrayal in the hazy aftermath. And then I go on to talk about the afternoon I confronted my mother about the summer she and my father shipped my brother and off to India to stay with my aunt. The summer it happened. I later found out my aunt cut me without my parents’ consent. In my years of telling and retelling this story, I would have moments I felt nothing, moments I would break down, and moments of relief. It was a mixed bag, often contradictory emotions happening all at once.
When I began to take apart the story, I discovered the core moment where I felt most gutted. It wasn’t the cut itself. It was the aftermath. I remember sitting in a corner alone, feeling confused and ashamed. When I looked at my aunt on the other side of the room, she was whispering to my cousin and they both pointed and laughed at me. Unearthing the moment of shame - the laughter - has haunted me since childhood. The piece that was carved out of me is called “haram ki boti” which translates into sinful flesh. Over time, the physical scar healed. But for many FGM survivors, the psychological wounds remain
Type 4: Stories that reveal
Last year, I decided to take a sabbatical from the Foreign Service. I was burning out on both ends -- I had just completed a really tough assignment in Pakistan and was also doing anti-FGM
advocacy in my personal capacity. When I came home, an acquaintance from graduate school approached me to capture my story on film. As part of the process, she would send a camera
crew to shadow me. Sometimes while giving speeches, other times filming mundane interactions with friends and family. On a visit to my home in Texas, I’ll never forget the moment where my mom told me her story of survival. As part of the film, we went on a roadtrip to Austin to visit the university where I first had the memory jolt. My mom is patiently waiting for the cameraman to set up his tripod. My father is standing next to her.
In the end, we eventually had the conversation I never had the courage to have with either of my parents face to face. Looking them both in the eye, retelling my story with a camera as witness, we discussed how FGM ripped our family apart (specifically my dad’s relationship with his sister). For the first time, I heard my mom talking about her own experience and the feeling of betrayal when she discovered my aunt cut me without her consent. When I later told her that FGM was actually indigenous to the U.S. and Europe and that it was a cure for hysteria (prescribed by doctors) up until the 19th century, my mother exclaimed “that’s crazy to me, this was a cure for hysteria. I’m going to educate other doctors to speak out.” And in that moment, my mother, a survivor who had never shared her story before, became an activist.
My story, intertwined with her story, revealed a tightly woven fabric of resistance. With our voices, we were able to break the cycle of intergenerational structural violence. We were able to rewrite the stories of future generations of girls in our own family and hopefully one day, the world.
“Dreams”
by Neesa Sunar (@neesasunar), Queens, USA
This is a woman breaking free from her mundane reality, devoid of color. She dreams in a colorful, "nonsensical" way that people in her life would not understand. She could be considered insane, yet her dreams are more vivid and imaginative than actual life. This is frequently how schizophrenia occurs to me, more engaging and exciting than real life.

< United against the violence, by Karina Ocampo
Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women, by Rode Wanimbo >
Reason to join 2
Find and create connections. There are over 9,000 AWID members, all working to address complementary, interconnected issues. This diversity supports the sustainability of feminist movements and actors.
هل عليّ القيام بأي تجهيزات قبل تعبئة الاستطلاع؟
يركّز استطلاع "أين المال" على وقائع التمويل للتنظيمات النسوية، تسأل أغلبية الأسئلة عن تمويل مجموعتكم/ن بين الأعوام 2021-2023. سوف تحتاجون أن تكون لديكم/ن معلومات معيّنة عند تعبئة الاستطلاع مثل ميزانيتكم/ن السنوية ومصادر التمويل الأساسية.
Fahmida Riaz
« Après
Après l’amour la première fois,
Nos corps et nos esprits nus
Une galerie des glaces,
Complètement désarmés, absolument fragiles,
Nous nous couchons dans les bras de l’autre
Respirant attentivement,
Avec la crainte de briser
Ces figurines en cristal. » - Fahmida Riaz
Fahmida Riaz a brisé les tabous sociaux en écrivant sur le désir des femmes dans ses poèmes, créant des récits alternatifs à propos du corps des femmes et de leur sexualité, et établissant de nouveaux standards dans la littérature urdu.
Son travail s’est confronté à de sévères critiques de la part des conservateurs, qui l’ont accusée d’utiliser des expressions érotiques et « pornographiques » dans son langage poétique.
Fahmida a finalement été mise sur liste noire et accusée de sédition en vertu de l’article 124A du Code pénal pakistanais sous la dictature de Zia-ul-Haq. Forcée à l’exil en 1981, elle a passé presque sept ans en Inde avant de retourner au Pakistan.
Dans la préface de « Badan Dareeda » (Un corps ravagé), un recueil de poèmes publié en 1974, elle écrit :
La splendeur de Fahmida résidait dans sa défiance de toute logique ou toute catégorie particulière de genre, nation, religion ou culture. Elle refusait d’être mise dans le rôle d’une « femme poète », brisant les définitions traditionnelles de la poésie féminine, des concepts et des thématiques (variant entre conscience politique, corps, culture, désir, religion, foyer), et renversant les inhibitions assignées à son genre.
« Il faut que vous compreniez que la culture ne peut avoir d’essence. Les cultures changent, circulent entre elles, formant de nouvelles cultures. La culture est née de cette façon. Il n’y a pas de conflits de cultures. »
Fahmida a écrit plus de 15 livres de poésie et de fiction, dont son poème ‘Taaziyati Qaraardaaden’ («Résolutions de condoléances» en anglais) qui pourrait servir d'hommage approprié à sa vie et à son héritage et de collection de poèmes (Apna Jurm To Saabit He «Mon crime est prouvé») publié en 1988 durant son exil.
Fahmida Riaz est née à Meerut, en Inde, le 28 juillet 1946 et est décédée le 21 novembre 2018 à Lahore, au Pakistan.
Snippet FEA Sopo Japaridze Quote (ES)
"Sabemos que todo está en nuestra contra y hay muy pocas posibilidades de cambiar eso. Pero creemos en la intervención y creo que tenemos una oportunidad y deberíamos usarla. Es por eso que estamos haciendo todo lo que estamos haciendo. Estamos dispuestos a presionar por cosas inauditas".
- Sopo Japaridze para OpenDemocracy
Photo @სოლიდარობის ქსელი / Solidarity Network
Introduction to the films from Nuestramérica
By Alejandra Laprea
What a difficult task, that of condensing all the power and diversity of voices being raised in Latin America to tell the other stories emerging in this vast territory, to speak of the feminist realities we are building in our movement and other community-based organizations.
I spent a long time trying to establish parameters for the search and selection of these films, with the idea that they would enable you to get a little closer to so many dreams and projects that are slowly coming into being in the territories Nuestroamericanos, of our Americas, as we like to call them ourselves. It was a tough job trying to establish parameters, such as geographic location, linguistic justice, and representation of diverse communities — Indigenous, Afro-descendants, migrants — and the many causes and claims for which they raise their voices. I arrived at the conclusion that making such a compilation would be the work of years, one of those projects always under construction.
And so I decided to search for works that have emerged out of organizing and activism, as well as films that will perhaps spark major debates that we are yet to have.
In this selection of films you will find the voices of filmmakers who are not content with simply recording the feminist realities that palpitate in every corner of this vast and diverse territory. These are works that from their very conceptualization are questioning for what, by whom, and how films and videos are made. They understand film to be an instrument of struggle, something more than images to be enjoyed on a screen. These are individual or collective filmmakers who see film and video making as an instrument to promote discussion, open a debate, and thus serve as a resource for popular and feminist pedagogies.
Seen in this light, this small film selection is a journeythrough feminist realities on two levels; on one level are the stories you will see, and on another level, there is the experimentation of filmmakers who are seeking and creating other feminist realities through the ways in which they are making films and telling stories.
Enjoy this journey through films that Resist, Create, and Transform.
Lima is Burning
Direction: Giovana García Soto
Docu-fiction
Spanish with English subtitles
In Lima is Burning our work plays with documentary and fiction to take us into the life of Gía, a non-binary person, who uses performance art as a tool to denounce and transgress, as a vital manifesto against transfobia in every space, including gays spaces. With Gía we also take a look at transfeminism as a safe community in which Gía feels embraced, where she shares feelings and affections.
Giovana Garcia Sojo is a young peruvian audiovisual producer, specialized in low-budget production, creation for children and adolescents in cinema and cinematographic script by the International School of Cinema and Television - EICTV in San Antonio de Baños - Cuba. Giovana has developed her path as a director towards women and feminized identities, Lima is Burning is one of her first works.
Yo, Imposible / Being Impossible
Director: Patricia Ortega
Fiction
Spanish with English subtitles
Patricia Ortega, director of «Yo, Imposible» [“Being Impossible”] explores through the character of Ariel, a young girl whose intersex body was surgically violated as a child, the many ways that society attempts to normalize sexual and gender diversity.
The film tells the story of how Ariel discovers she was born intersex and subjected to several surgeries to normalize her genitals. This discovery leads the character to rediscover her body and reconstruct her identity. The audience is led to question a society dominated by heteronormativity which renders others invisible and condemns them to a life of unhappiness.
Patricia Ortega is a Venezuelan filmmaker living in Argentina who studied at the International School of Film and Television in Cuba, where she specialized in film directing. Patricia uses fiction to address extreme situations that women or feminized bodies go through, and how they overcome them.
«Yo, Imposible»' takes a position vis-à-vis the dominant conception of a world in which only the masculine and feminine exist, which makes others invisible. “They are not sick. They are just genetically different. Interventions are done on their genitals and bodies through hormones without their consent, which is a violation of their human rights and identity, forcing them to fit into established categories'' - Patricia Ortega
Cubanas, mujeres en revolución [Cuban Women in Revolution]
Director: Maria Torrellas Liebana
Documentary
Spanish with English subtitles
María Torrellas narrates the story of the Cuban Revolution through the women who brought it to life, Vilma Espín, Celia Sánchez, and Haydee Santamaría, among others.
For women, telling the story of the Cuban Revolution is not something of the past, but a daily struggle that Torrellas shows through the voices of Cuban rural women, professionals, students, and workers in the present. In “Cuban Women in Revolution” we encounter the current challenges facing Cuban women such as the persistence of old prejudices, new forms of violence, and the constant challenge of creating new feminist realities for themselves and the next generations in a territory besieged by USA imperialism for more than 70 years.
Maíia Torrellas
María Torrellas is a journalist and documentary filmmaker. She has a long trajectory of filmmaking and has won, among others, the Santiago Alvarez in Memoriam award for her documentary “Memoria de una hija de Oshun” [Memory of a Daughter of Oshun].
“In the documentary I have woven together the struggles of yesterday’s heroines with those of today’s women. The women tell their own stories and also describe those whose struggles they most admire. It made an impression on me to hear the words ‘The Revolution gave us everything’ or ‘What would have become of my family without the Revolution?’ from voices of compañeras who are poor, rural, or Black.” - María Torrellas
Serie documental Cuidanderas [Mini documentary series Women Healers/Carers]
Directors: Gabriela Arnal and Marzel Ávila for Fondo de Acción Urgente - LAC
Ecuador 2019
Spanish with English subtitles
CUIDANDERAS joins the words cuidar (to care for) and curanderas (women healers) synthesizing the identities of a series of women in Latin American territories, women who put their bodies and all their energy into protecting the Commons, what Pachamama gives us, with the commitment that we use it as wisely as the rest of living beings doThis mini series of documentary films presents the stories of three collectives of Latin American women who are committed to caring for their territories, healing their bodies, and confronting extractivist and racist projects in Ecuador, Colombia, and Bolivia.
GUARDIANAS DE LA AMAZONIA [GUARDIANS OF THE AMAZON]
Province of Orellana, Ecuador. For centuries the Waorani women have been engaged in a struggle for their territory in the Amazon and the preservation of their Indigenous culture. Today they confront threats by the oil industry and their death-production model. From the jungle, leaders from the Waorani Women’s Association of the Ecuadoran Amazon (AMWAE, in Spanish) share the motivation behind their resistance and show their greatest power: their inexhaustible joy.
COMADRES DEL PACÍFICO COLOMBIANO [BLACK SISTERHOOD OF THE PACIFIC]
Buenaventura, Colombia. In the largest and most violent port city in Colombia, plagued by decades of armed conflict, racism, and machismo, a group of women refuse to give in to fear and continue to resist in the face of adversity. The Butterflies with New Wings network is made up of Black women from the Pacific coast of Colombia who work together to protect their territory, recuperate their ancestral traditions, and heal the wounds of systematic and structural violence.
HERMANAS DEL ALTIPLANO [SISTERS OF THE HIGHLANDS]
Indigenous, rural, and regantes (women in charge of irrigation) in Bolivia are calling for the care and protection of bodies-earth-territories, as they are faced with an extractive production model which threatens their lives, health, physical and sexual integrity, and the survival of their communities and territories. The Network of Defenders of Mother Earth is made up of women from 12 Indigenous communities who are defending the right to water and denouncing mining companies’ violations of human rights and the rights of Nature while working to recuperate their ancestral ways of knowledge and practices of collective care.
“CUIDANDERAS, a combination of the words cuidar (to care for) and curanderas (women healers), presents the stories of Latin American women defenders who are caring for their territories and healing their bodies. The collective power of these women has changed the history of their communities in Ecuador, Colombia, and Bolivia as they confront extractivist and racist production models.”
Yo aborto, tú abortas, todxs callamos [I abort, you abort, we all keep silent]
Director: Carolina Reynoso
Argentina 2013
Spanish
If there is one thing that has marked feminist movements across the continent of Latin America that is the call for abortion to be made available, safe, and free. From North to South feminist movements are rising up and taking to the streets fighting for the liberation of our first territory, our bodies, which is why this selection must include a documentary on abortion to fully understand the power of the women of Nuestramérica.
Yo aborto, Tu Abortas, Todxs Callamos [I abort, you abort, we all keep silent] presents the stories of seven women from different social classes, including the director of the documentary herself, who reflect on something they have all experienced in their own bodies: clandestine abortion.
Through their stories, the film aims to bust myths regarding the voluntary interruption of pregnancy, de-stigmatize the topic, and show one of the most common forms of violence in the Americas in a new light.
Carolina Reynoso
Director, researcher, and producer of feminist films. She is also a feminist activist who organizes workshops on screenwriting from a gender perspective so that more films are made showing other counterhegemonic realities and stories. Carolina Reynoso strikes a balance between activism and creation in each one of her works.
“We are a group of filmmakers who make documentaries in order to continue fighting to make abortion available, safe, and free in Argentina. The film presents the testimonies of seven women from different social classes, including the director of the documentary herself, who reflect on something they have all experienced in their own bodies: clandestine abortion.” -The filmmaking team
Historias Urgentes: Resistencia en ollas Comunes [Urgent Stories: Resistance in the Soup Kitchens]
Nosotras Audiovisuales, collective of Chilean women filmmakers
Chile 2020
Spanish
“Urgent Stories” is a series created by women to make their needs and important experiences visible to the people living in the territories that today comprise Chile. This film series aims to keep alive the flame ignited by the social uprising of October 2019, the flame ofChile in all its diversity that woke up and said, ‘Enough!’
«Resistencia en ollas comunes» [Resistance in the Soup Kitchens] is the first of these “Urgent Stories.” Through the voices of four women from Iquique, Valparaiso, Chillan and Santiago, it shows how by collectively assuming care work they are on the front lines of resistance, creating other feminist realities for themselves and the communities where Latin American women live.
Nosotras audiovisuales
This organization was formed in 2017 to link together women involved in the Chilean filmmaking scene. It helps women filmmakers to network, collaborate, and share information along with their works and perspectives on the field.
Nosotras Audiovisuales contributes to the Chilean uprising by documenting it and collectively generating new material.
Se trata de Mujeres [It’s about Women]
Micol Metzner
Argentina 2019
Spanish
Based on her personal experience, director Micol Metzner presents a film mixing documentary with fiction, aligning her filmmaker’s voice with that of thousands of women who have been victims of trafficking across the continent and showing how solidarity among women is the best form of protection.
Micol Metzner
Filmmaker trained at the Instituto de Arte Cinematográfico de Avellaneda [Avellaneda Institute of Film Arts]. Art director and editor. Metzner belongs to the Video Cluster of the City of Buenos Aires, a community space and multisectorial cooperative for independent projects.
She facilitates filmmaking workshops in working class neighbourhoods and spaces of enclosure (youth group homes and women’s prisons). She is a member of the film production house MVM.
“The production house MVM was born out of the necessity to express a lot of things that we regularly protest on the streets about while also doing it in a creative way through drawing, film, and photography.The production house MVM is a place that interrogates language, image, film from a feminist perspective. It is also a place for processing everything we have gone through and using art to make things sometimes to heal, sometimes to generate public debate as happened with this short film…I didn’t imagine that was going to happen, but when we showed it, a lot of things were set in motion. Discussions happen that are even more enriching than the short film itself. That this can happen based on something we made is so good…” - Micol Metzner
Follow us on Social Media to receive news about upcoming events and screenings:
Facebook: @AWIDWomensRights
Instagram: @awidwomensrights
Twitter ENG: @awid
Twitter ES: @awid_es
Twitter FR: @awid_fr
LinkedIn: Association for Women's Rights in Development (AWID)
Reason to join 6
Participa en el Foro Internacional de AWID - un importante encuentro feminista global—, y accede a descuentos especiales para afiliadxs de AWID y puntos de entrada para el diálogo virtual. Creado en conjunto por los movimientos feministas, el Foro es un espacio único para una discusión profunda y para dejar correr la imaginación, donde desafiamos y fortalecemos nuestros procesos organizativos, donde conectamos nuestras luchas y las realidades feministas.
Tuğçe Albayrak
Вы просите указать название группы/организации и/или движения и контактную информацию – почему?
Мы запрашиваем эти данные, чтобы облегчить просмотр ответов, избежать дублирования и иметь возможность связаться с вашей организацией в случае, если вы не смогли завершить опрос и/или если у вас возникли сомнения или дополнительные вопросы. Здесь вы можете узнать больше о том, как мы используем личную информацию, которую собираем в ходе нашей работы.
Sylvia Rivera
Sylvia Rivera was a civil rights activist, a transvestite and sex worker.
Known as the New York Drag queen of color, Silvia was fierce and tireless in her advocacy, in defense of those who were marginalized and excluded as the “gay rights” movement mainstreamed in the United States in the early 1970’s.
In a well-known speech on Christopher Street Day in 1973, Sylvia, shouted through a crowd of LGBT community members:
“You all tell me, go and hide my tail between my legs.
I will no longer put up with this shit.
I have been beaten.
I have had my nose broken.
I have been thrown in jail.
I have lost my job.
I have lost my apartment.
For gay liberation, and you all treat me this way?
What the fuck’s wrong with you all?
Think about that!”
In 1969, at age 17, Silvia took part in the iconic Stonewall Riots by allegedly throwing the second Molotov cocktail to protest the police raid of the gay bar in Manhattan. She continued to be a central figure in the uprisings that followed, organizing rallies and fighting back police brutality.
In 1970, Sylvia worked together with Marsha P. Johnson to establish Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (S.T.A.R.), a political collective and organisation that would set up projects of mutual support for trans people living on the streets, those struggling with drug addiction and in prisons and in particular for trans people of color and those living in poverty.
Defiant of labels, Silvia lived life in a way that challenged people in the gay liberation movement to think differently. She said:
“I left home at age 10 in 1961. I hustled on 42nd Street. The early 60s was not a good time for drag queens, effeminate boys or boys that wore makeup like we did. Back then we were beat up by the police, by everybody. I didn't really come out as a drag queen until the late 60s. when drag queens were arrested, what degradation there was. I remember the first time I got arrested, I wasn't even in full drag. I was walking down the street and the cops just snatched me. People now want to call me a lesbian because I'm with Julia, and I say, "No. I'm just me. I'm not a lesbian." I'm tired of being labeled. I don't even like the label transgender. I'm tired of living with labels. I just want to be who I am. I am Sylvia Rivera.
Through her activism and courage, Sylvia offered a mirror that reflected all that was wrong within society, but also the possibility of transformation. Sylvia was born in 1951 and passed away in 2002.
Snippet FEA Otras Union meetings and demonstrations (FR)
Réunions et manifestations du Syndicat OTRAS
Ika Vantiani

En Indonesia, la bunga [flor] está a menudo asociada a las mujeres. Esto significa que una flor también puede ser asociada a las mujeres transgénero, porque las mujeres transgénero son mujeres. Son igual de bellas, igual de fuertes, y tanto las flores como las mujeres trans no viven solo esperando ser «recogidas», sino que crecen y florecen y mueren como quieren. Esta obra es un tributo a mis amigas mujeres transgénero, en el Día Internacional de la Visibilidad Transgénero.
Sobre Ika Vantiani

Our values - esponsibility, Accountability, and Integrity
Responsabilité, responsabilisation et intégrité
Nous nous attachons à faire preuve de transparence, à utiliser nos ressources de manière responsable, à être équitables dans nos collaborations et à faire preuve de responsabilité et d'intégrité envers nos membres, nos partenaires, nos bailleurs de fonds et les mouvements avec lesquels nous travaillons. Nous nous engageons à réfléchir sur nos expériences, à partager ouvertement nos connaissances et à nous efforcer de modifier nos pratiques en conséquence.