
Agnes Torres

In September 2016, the 13th AWID international Forum brought together in Brazil over 1800 feminists and women’s rights advocates in a spirit of resistance and resilience.
This section highlights the gains, learnings and resources that came out of our rich conversations. We invite you to explore, share and comment!
One of the key takeaways from the 2016 Forum was the need to broaden and deepen our cross-movement work to address rising fascisms, fundamentalisms, corporate greed and climate change.
With this in mind, we have been working with multiple allies to grow these seeds of resistance:
And through our next strategic plan and Forum process, we are committed to keep developing ideas and deepen the learnings ignited at the 2016 Forum.
AWID Forums started in 1983, in Washington DC. Since then, the event has grown to become many things to many peoples: an iterative process of sharpening our analyses, vision and actions; a watershed moment that reinvigorates participants’ feminisms and energizes their organizing; and a political home for women human rights defenders to find sanctuary and solidarity.
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Derechos humanos y etnico-territoriales Asegurar la defensa de los derechos humanos y los derechos de la Naturaleza a través de la construcción de alianzas con actores y organizaciones locales, nacionales, regionales y globales. |
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Desarrollo Sostenible Garantizar que todas las actividades económicas, culturales y ambientales contribuyan al desarrollo sostenible, la seguridad alimentaria y la generación de ingresos, respetando la libre determinación y el autogobierno de las comunidades afrodescendientes. |
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Educación y formación Capacitar y empoderar mujeres para que defiendan sus derechos en diferentes espacios políticos, sociales y económicos. ¡Para obtener más información, puedes ver más aquí! |
📅 Miércoles 13 de marzo
🕒 10:30 a. m. - 12:00 p. m. EST
Organizan: AWID, Red-DESC, Franciscan International y Womankind Worldwide como parte de Feministas por un Tratado Vinculante
🏢 Church Center de las Naciones Unidas, 777 United Nations Plaza, piso 11, Nueva York
Mona était économiste et consultante indépendante sur les questions de genre et de développement.
Elle a été professeure d'économie et directrice de l'Institut d'études féminines du monde arabe à l'Université libanaise américaine. Elle est décédée subitement le 6 janvier 2018.
Des amis et d'anciens collègues disent de Mona: « Pour lui rendre hommage, la meilleure chose à faire est de continuer à faire ce qu'elle a commencé: l'égalité de genre, à tout prix.
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
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.
En vous promenant dans le quartier du Raval à Barcelone, vous croiserez peut-être Metzineres, une coopérative féministe par et pour les femmes et personnes trans et non-binaires qui consomment de la drogue.
Imaginez un endroit sans stigmatisation, où les femmes et personnes trans et non-binaires peuvent consommer des drogues en toute sécurité. Un lieu qui offre sécurité, soutien et accompagnement aux femmes et personnes trans et non-binaires dont les droits sont systématiquement bafoués par la guerre contre la drogue et qui subissent violence, stigmatisation et répression en conséquence.
Juste à l'extérieur de l'entrée, les passant·es et les visiteur·euses sont accueilli·e·s par un immense tableau noir où figurent des conseils, des astuces, des souhaits et des dessins de personnes qui consomment de la drogue. Il existe également un calendrier qui présente une série d'activités auto-organisées par la communauté Metzineres. Qu'il s'agisse d'ateliers coiffure et cosmétique, des émissions radio, des pièces de théâtre, de repas communs offerts à la communauté ou des cours d'autodéfense, il y a toujours quelque chose à faire!
La coopérative offre des sites de consommation sûrs ainsi que des services qui couvrent les besoins de base des gens. Il y a des lits, des casiers, des douches, des toilettes, des machines à laver et une petite terrasse extérieure où les gens peuvent se détendre ou jardiner.
Metzineres opère dans un cadre de réduction des méfaits, qui tente de réduire les conséquences négatives de la consommation de drogue. Mais la réduction des méfaits est bien plus qu'un ensemble de pratiques: c'est une politique ancrée dans la justice sociale, la dignité et les droits des personnes qui consomment des drogues.
Centers activists’ voices and experiences to analyze how money moves and who it is reaching
Olivia was the spiritual leader of the Shipibo Konibo indigenous peoples.
A wise Indigenous woman and grandmother, she was known for cultivating traditional medicine and the sacred songs of her people (Íkaros). Olivia Arevalo was an active defender of the cultural and environmental rights of her people. Olivia’s murder occurred in a context of territorial conflict between the Shipibo community and companies that desire to take over their land to cultivate palm oil.
Members of her community have said: “Her death is an aggression against the entire Shipibo community. She was the living memory of her people”.
Estas obras son un trabajo colaborativo de fotografías e ilustraciones realizadas por Siphumeze y Katia durante el confinamiento. Muestran narrativas negras queer de sexo y placer, bondage, sexo seguro, juguetes, salud mental y sexo, y mucho más. Fueron creadas para acompañar la antología Touch.
To strengthen our collective voice and power for more and better funding for feminist, women's rights, LBTQI+ and allied organizing globally
De la India, Janette era enérgica, extraordinaria, compasiva y amorosa.
Su intolerancia de la injusticia y su firme compromiso de defender los derechos de todas las personas la llevaron a trabajar en TARSHI (una ONG que trabaja en temas de la sexualidad y la salud y derechos sexuales y reproductivos) durante más de 15 años. Janette dirigió con destreza las finanzas, los recursos humanos y los aspectos operativos del trabajo de TARSHI, atravesando hábilmente la laberíntica burocracia a la que están sometidas las ONG indias.
Lxs integrantes de su equipo recuerdan que «Ella se quedaba vigilando, de manera que pudiéramos seguir el rumbo en aguas abiertas. Mujer de muchos talentos, Janette no sólo nos ayudó a conseguir nuestra propia oficina sino que también la diseñó para una utilización óptima». Amaba viajar y a los animales, y estaba interesada en la terapia asistida por animales.
Colectivo Moriviví est un collectif artistique de femmes. Notre production artistique comprend du muralisme, du muralisme communautaire et des performances/actions de manifestation. Notre travail consiste à démocratiser l'art et à amener les récits des communautés portoricaines dans la sphère publique afin de créer des espaces où ils seront validés. Nous croyons qu’à travers l'artivisme, nous pouvons promouvoir la sensibilisation aux questions sociales et renforcer notre mémoire collective.
Dans le cadre de sa participation au Groupe de Travail d’Artistes d'AWID, le Colectivo Moriviví a réuni un groupe divers de membres, partenaires et personnel pour faciliter un processus collaboratif visant à imaginer, documenter et déterminer le contenu d'une fresque communautaire par le biais d'un processus de co-création en plusieurs étapes. Le projet a commencé par une conceptualisation à distance avec des féministes de différentes régions du monde réuni·e·s par l'AWID, avant d'évoluer vers sa re-contextualisation et sa réalisation à Porto Rico. Nous avons eu l'honneur de bénéficier de la contribution des artistes locaux·ales Las Nietas de Nonó(@lasnietasdenono), de la participation des femmes locales à la session de peinture communautaire, du soutien logistique de la municipalité de Caguas et du soutien supplémentaire du FRIDA | The Young Feminist Fund.
La fresque explore la transcendance des frontières en présentant les corps tels des cartes, dans une étreinte qui met en évidence l'intersection des différentes manifestations, pratiques et réalités féministes.
Nous remercions également Kelvin Rodríguez, qui a documenté et capturé les différentes étapes de ce projet à Porto Rico :
El 11 de julio de 2024, tuvimos una conversación increíble con grandes feministas sobre el estado del ecosistema de financiación y el poder de la investigación "¿Dónde está el dinero?".
Le agradecemos de manera especial a Cindy Clark (Thousand Currents), Sachini Perera (RESURJ), Vanessa Thomas (Black Feminist Fund), Lisa Mossberg (SIDA) y Althea Anderson (Hewlett Foundation).
Recuerda: ¡la encuesta permanecerá abierta hasta el 31 de agosto de 2024!
Membre de la communauté autochtone maya ixil, Juana était infirmière professionnelle et coordinatrice du Comité de développement des agriculteurs (CODECA)
CODECA est une organisation de défense des droits humains composée d'agriculteurs autochtones et vouée à la promotion des droits à la terre et du développement rural pour les familles autochtones dans la microrégion de Nebaj Quiché. Elle a d'abord rejoint le CODECA en tant que membre de la Juventud de CODECA (branche de la jeunesse).
Au moment de son décès, elle venait d’être élue membre du Comité exécutif du Mouvement de libération des peuples (MLP).
Le corps de Juana a été retrouvé par des voisins au bord d’une petite rivière sur la route située près de Nebaj et du village d’Acambalam, au Guatemala. Selon le CODECA, son corps portait des traces de torture.
In the African Commission and the Inter-American System, anti-rights actors push essentialist notions of culture and gender to hamper progress on rights and undermine accountability. As we see, anti-rights actors are exerting influence in regional human rights systems, as well as international spaces.
The African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights has begun framing women’s and sexual rights as jeopardising its ability to deal with “real rights” and contrary to “African values”, setting a worrying anti-rights precedent. The withdrawal of the Coalition of African Lesbians’ observer status is an example of this trend, and points to the way space for feminist, Pan-Africanist engagement is being stifled.
In the Organization of American States (OAS) and the Inter-American Human Rights System, anti-rights strategies include the NGOization of religious groups, the use of secular discourses, and the co-optation of discrimination frameworks. Anti-rights influence has materialized in a number of ways, including the intimidation of trans activists and the blocking the introduction of progressive language in resolutions.