El Tributo de AWID es una exhibición de arte que honra a feministas, a activistas por los derechos de las mujeres y de la justicia social de todo el mundo que ya no están con nosotrxs.
El Tributo de este año cuenta y comparte las historias y narraciones de quienes crearon conjuntamente realidades feministas, ofrecieron visiones de alternativas a los sistemas y actores que nos oprimen, y propusieron nuevas formas de organizarnos, de movilizarnos, de luchar, de trabajar, de vivir y de aprender.
Se agregan a la galería 49 retratos nuevos de feministas y defensorxs de derechos humanos. Aunque muchxs feministas y defensorxs han fallecido debido a edad avanzada o enfermedad, muchísimxs han sido asesinadxs debido a su trabajo y por ser quienes eran.
Esta violencia creciente (de parte de Estados, empresas transnacionales, crimen organizado, sicarios no identificados, etc.) no se dirige solo a activistas individuales sino a nuestro trabajo común y a las realidades feministas.
Visita nuestra exhibición en línea
Lors retratos de 2020 fueron diseñados por la ilustradora y animadora galardonada, Louisa Bertman.
En AWID nos gustaría agradecer a las familias y organizaciones que nos compartieron sus historias personales, y así haber contribuido a este memorial. Nos unimos a ellxs para continuar el extraordinario trabajo de estxs activistas y defensorxs, y en el esfuerzo para asegurarnos de que se logre justicia en los casos que permanecen en la impunidad
"Ellos trataron de enterrarnos pero no sabían que éramos semillas."‐ Proverbio Mexicano
Primero tomó forma como una exposición física de retratos y biografías de feministas y activistas que habían fallecido, en el 12º Foro Internacional de AWID, en Turquía. Ahora vive como una galería en línea, que actualizamos cada año.
Desde 2012 hemos presentado más de 467 feministas y defensorxs.
Diakite s'est activement impliquée dans la défense des femmes dans la vie politique et publique au Mali.
Elle a travaillé pour soutenir la formation des candidates aux élections et s'est élevée contre les mutilations génitales féminines (MGF). Elle était un ardente défenseure de la santé et des droits reproductifs.
The feminist reality that I want to share is about weaving networks in which we uphold one another. Networks which come together in different ways, which emerge from our shared vulnerability, and which make all of us stronger.
The streets of Chamberí, my neighbourhood in Madrid, became much more of a home following the gatherings in the plazas organized by the citizens movement that originated in a rally on May 15, 2011. I think about how, during those years, we met each other and were able to associate faces, voices, smiles with so many neighbours who previously were only silhouettes without names or pasts, and who we passed by without seeing or hearing each other. I think about how we’ve become involved and dedicated; how we’ve woven a palpable, tangible community; how we’ve been advancing hand in hand towards building a new more inhabitable world, which we want and that we urgently need to create.
A group of activists and utopian neighbours, (in the best sense of the word utopian) – that moves us to action to do something real – that group for me was practically the first that reacted differently when I shared a part of my history and identity with them. With these women I shared my psychiatric diagnosis, my multiple hospital stays, the number of daily pills that accompanied me, my disability certificate, my difficulty in preserving that vital link that periodically disintegrates in my hands.
These neighbours, friends, comrades, links, loves –did not only not distance themselves from me once they got to know someone who many others had labelled as problematic, manipulator, egotistical – but became my principal network of affection and mutual support. They decided to navigate with me when the sea became agitated with storms. These people have given a different meaning to my days.
Building our feminist reality also encompasses carrying the “I believe you, sister” that we use when a friend has suffered a macho attack to the violence experienced by psychiatrized women at the hands of the very psychiatric system and institutions that are supposed to help us (and instead are often the new abuser who traumatizes and hurts us all over again). And this reality must include respect for our decisions, without taking away our agency and capacity to direct our own steps to one space or another; to listen to our narratives, desires, needs…without trying to impose others that are alien to us. It means not delegitimizing our discourse, not alluding to the label of our diagnosis, nor our madness.
With these transformation, each stay in the psychiatric institute did erase the ties that we had been able to build, but instead this network stayed by my side, its members took turns so that each day there would be no lull in calls, in visits, so that I could feel them as close as one can feel another person separated by locked doors (but unfortunately open for abuse) within the confines of the psychiatric ward. Through the warmth and kindness from my people I could rebuild that vital link that had once again been broken.
The even bigger leap happened when I was already aware of the numerous violent acts and abuse (where among other assaults, I spent days strapped to a bed, relieving myself where I lay), I decided that I would not go back to being interned.
This network of care, these women neighbours-friends-loves-comrades, they respected my refusal to return to the hospital and supported me through each crisis I’ve been through since then. Without being interned, without violence.
They took turns accompanying me when my link to life was so broken that I felt such a huge risk which I couldn’t handle on my own. They organized WhatsApp group check-ins. They coordinated care and responsibilities so that no one would feel overwhelmed - because when an individual feels overloaded, they make decisions based on fear and the need for control instead of prioritizing accompaniment and care.
That first crisis that we were able to surmount together in this way – without being admitted to the psychiatric institute, represented a dramatic change in my life. There were months when my life was at risk, of intense suffering and of so much fear for my people and for me. But we overcame it together, and all that I thought was that if we could get over that crisis, then we could also find ways to face all the difficulties and crises that may come.
These feminist realities that we’re building day by day keep expanding, growing and taking different forms. We’re learning together, we’re growing together. Distancing ourselves from a welfare mentality, one of the first lessons was that, in reality, there wouldn’t be anyone receiving care (because of a psychiatric label) or anyone helping, from the other side of the sanity/insanity line. We learnt – we’re learning – to move to a different key – that of mutual support, of providing care and being cared for, of caring for each other.
We’ve also explored the limits of self care and the strength of collectivizing care and redistributing it so it’s not a burden that paralyzes us; we learnt – and we keep learning today – about joy and enjoying care that is chosen.
Another recent learning is about how difficult it was to start integrating money as another component of mutual support that we all give and receive. It was hard for us to realize how internalized capitalism kept on reverberating in our relationship with money, and that even though no one expected any payment for the containers of lentils we cooked amongst us when eating and cooking were difficult tasks, our expectation regarding money was different. Phrases like “how much you have is how much you’re worth” become stuck inside of us without critically analyzing them. It’s easy to keep thinking that the money each one has is related to the effort made to earn it, and not due to other social conditioning distant from personal merit. In fact, within this well-established mutual support network – redistributing money based on needs without questioning – was still a remote reality for our day to day. That’s why this is something that we’ve recently started to work on and think through as a group.
We want to get closer to that anti-capitalist world where mutual support is the way that we have chosen to be in the world; and that entails deconstructing our personal and collective relationship with money and internalized capitalism.
In these feminist realities we also know that learning never stops, and that the road continues to be shaped as we travel upon it. There is still much to do to keep caring for ourselves, to keep expanding perspectives and to make ourselves more aware of the persistent power imbalances, of privileges that we hold and continue to exercise, without realizing the violence that they reproduce.
Though we’ve already travelled so far, we still have a long way to go to get closer to that new world that we hold in our hearts (and for some within our crazy little heads too). Racism, classism, adult-centrism, fat-phobia, and machismo that persists among our partners.
Among the pending lessons, we’ve needed for a long time already to build a liveable future in which feminism is really intersectional and in which we all have space, in which the realities and oppressions of other sisters are just as important as our own. We also need to move forward horizontally when we build collectively – getting rid of egos, of protagonisms, to live together and deal with the need for recognition in a different way. And to also keep making strides grounded in the awareness that the personal is always, always political.
How we relate to and link with each other cannot be relegated to the private domain, nor kept silent: other loves are possible, other connections and other families are necessary, and we are also inventing them as we go.
This new world which we want to create, and that we need to believe in – is this kind world – in which we can love, and feel pride in ourselves – and in which all worlds will fit. We’ll keep at it.
Looking at activists and feminists as healers and nourishers of the world, in the midst of battling growing right wing presence, white supremacy and climate change. This piece highlights how our feminist reality puts kindness, solidarity, and empathy into action by showing up and challenging the status quo to liberate us all.
Somente no caso de problemas de acessibilidade e/ou se realizar o inquérito noutro idioma; caso contrário, encorajamo-lo a utilizar o KOBO para a recolha e análise padronizadas de dados do WITM.
Perçue comme une figure transformatrice sur les fronts de la lutte pour la libération et pour la liberté, Andaiye a été l’une des premières membres de l’Alliance du peuple travailleur (WPA), un parti socialiste en Guyane de lutte contre le régime autoritaire et participait activement à sa direction. Tout au long de sa vie, Andaiye a placé la justice pour la classe ouvrière et les droits des femmes vivant en milieu rural au centre de son action militante, et s’est battue pour l’élimination des obstacles ethniques entre les femmes indo-guyaniennes et celles afro-guyaniennes.
Andaiye fut l’une des membres fondatrices des Red Thread Women, une organisation de défense pour la juste rémunération du travail en soins réalisé par les femmes, en plus d’avoir travaillé à l’Université des Indes occidentales et avec l’organisation CARICOM. N’hésitant jamais à défier les gouvernements, elle a pointé du doigt les déséquilibres en matière de genre dans les conseils de l’État, les lois discriminatoires à l’égard des travailleur·euse·s du sexe, réclamé le droit à l’avortement en Jamaïque et s’est érigée contre les accords commerciaux, tels que le Marché unique des Caraïbes (CSME) qui permettait la libre circulation des travailleuses domestiques migrantes mais n’octroyait pas ce même droit à leurs enfants.
Elle a publié plusieurs essais universitaires, rédigé des articles d’opinion et révisé les derniers ouvrages de Walter Rodney, l’activiste politique guyanien et coleader du WPA assassiné en 1980. Survivante du cancer, Andaiye a été l’une des fondatrices de la Ligue guyanienne contre le cancer et du Groupe d’action des survivant·e·s du cancer. Elle a également siégé au conseil exécutif de l’Association caribéenne pour la recherche et l’action féministes (CAFRA), dirigé le Help and Shelter et été membre du conseil de la Commission nationale guyanienne pour les femmes. Elle a par ailleurs reçu de nombreux prix, dont le prestigieux Golden Arrow of Achievement (quatrième prix le plus important du Guyana).
Andaiye est décédée le 31 mai 2019, à l’âge de 77 ans. Les nombreux hommages que lui ont rendus des activistes, ami·e·s et celles et ceux que sa vie aura inspiré·e·s ont parlé avec éloquence de son incroyable héritage et de la grandeur de son humanité.
En voici quelques-uns :
“« Andaiye m’a profondément marquée... elle représenttait tellement de choses pour moi : une éducatrice, une combattante, elle m’a appris l’autocritique, à réfléchir plus clairement, elle m’a enseigné la survie, ce qu’est le courage sans limite, la compassion, à dépasser les apparences et traiter les gens comme des gens, sans se laisser impressionner par le statut, la classe, la race... rien de tout ça. » Peggy Antrobus, activiste féministe, auteure, universitaire, La Barbade
« Le genre d’idéalisme confiant que démontrait Andaiye, cette disposition à affronter le monde et une croyance tenace qu’on pouvait vraiment le changer... Cette politique de l’espoir... Comment honorer sa vie, son héritage et sa mémoire autrement qu’en poursuivant le travail éthiquement et en continuant à s’autocritiquer? Et de faire en sorte de placer le travail de soins des femmes au centre. » - Tonya Haynes, La Barbade
« Je peux l’entendre se moquer de notre engouement collectif. Donc, je ris tout en pleurant. Chapeau bas, chère Andaiye, et merci pour tout. Que le voyage de ton esprit soit aimant et lumineux. Passe le bonjour à Walter et aux ancêtres. » - Carol Narcisse, La Jamaïque
Cette œuvre est la collaboration photographique et illustrative réalisée par Siphumeze et Katia pendant le confinement. Elle se penche sur les récits de sexe et de plaisir des queers noirs, le bondage, le sexe protégé, les jouets, la santé mentale et le sexe et bien d'autres choses encore. Elle a été créée pour accompagner l'anthologie Touch.
Siphumeze Khundayi est une créatrice d'art, photographe et animatrice qui s'intéresse aux moyens créatifs de réunir le dialogue et la pratique artistique en relation avec l'identité queer africaine.
Elle est directrice créative de HOLAAfrica!, un collectif panafricaniste féministe en ligne.
Ses travaux de performance en solo et collaboratifs ont été présentés dans un certain nombre de festivals et d'espaces théâtraux tels que le festival Ricca Ricca au Japon.
Elle a mis en scène deux productions nominées aux Naledi Awards en 2017 et 2018. Elle a aussi mis en scène un spectacle qui a remporté un prix Standard Bank Ovation en 2020.
En tant que photographe, elle a participé à une exposition de groupe intitulée Flowers of my Soul (Fleurs de mon âme) en Italie, organisée par le Misfit Project. Elle a produit trois publications pour HOLAAfrica et a été publiée dans le deuxième volume, pour lequel elle a fourni la couverture: As You Like des Gerald Kraak Anthologies.
Katia Herrera est une artiste visuelle numérique de 21 ans originaire de la ville bruyante de Saint-Domingue, en République dominicaine. Bien que Herrera soit une introvertie autoproclamée, ses œuvres d'art sont remarquablement fortes dans un monde qui tente de faire taire les voix des personnes noires. Avec des titres comme Black Woman (Femme Noire), You Own the Moon (La Lune t’Appartient), Earth Goddess (Déesse de la Terre), Forever (Pour Toujours) et Universe Protector (Protecteur.rice de l’Univers), l'héritage de Herrera sera marqué par sa volonté passionnée de mettre en lumière l'endurance et la persévérance des Noir·e·s d'hier et d'aujourd'hui, afin de contrer le discours selon lequel la peau noire ne devrait être associée qu'à l'esclavage.
L'une de ses œuvres la plus belle et la plus vivante, Universe Protector, dépeint l'âme noire comme une entité divine pleine de force, de puissance et de grandeur. C’est dans sa jeunesse que son amour du graphisme a été stimulé grâce à l'art de ses parents et le Photoshop qu'ils avaient téléchargé sur leur ordinateur pour leur photographie professionnelle.
هنالك 47 سؤال في الاستطلاع، منها 27 سؤال اجباري* والعشرين الباقين هي أسئلة اختيارية. أغلب الأسئلة هي أسئلة متعددة الخيارات. ندعوكم/ن للإجابة على جميع الأسئلة.
Linda Porn is yet another heroine of feminist union organizing and sex worker activism nationally (in Spain) and transnationally.
Originally from Mexico, she has been living in Spain since the 2000s. She is a sex worker, an activist, a single mother and a multidisciplinary artist. Drawing from these different identities, she uses performance, video art and theater to vizibilize struggles at the intersections of transfeminism, sex work, migration, colonialism and motherhood.
She combines art and sex work while caring for her daughter as a single mother.
Linda also belongs to sex workers collectives that fight for their rights, such as the OTRAS union and CATS Murcia. She also co-founded the group 'Madrecitas' - that visibilises and denounces racist institutional violence against migrant families. Violence to which she and her daughter were subjected as a sex worker and migrant single mother.
You can follow her art work here.
The AWID Forum will be organized around 6 interconnected topics. These ‘anchors’ center feminist realities.
She was part of democratic, anti-war and LGBT movements. In her activism, Yelena was a fierce critic of President Vladimir Putin and his administration, expressing her opposition against Russia’s annexation of Ukraine’s Crimea peninsula and the ill-treatment of prisoners.
Yelena came out as bisexual earlier in 2019.
"Her coming out was a surprise to me, and I didn't approve of it. I told her 'Listen, Lena, you already have a target painted on you because of your political activity. You've just pinned another to your chest."
- Olga Smirnova
Yelena did receive multiple death threats and according to some of her acquaintances, was listed on a homophobic website that called on its visitors to hunt down LGBT persons. She reported the threats to the police, however the Russian state failed to provide protection.
But even in a society where political opposition, as well as members of the LGBT community and advocates for their rights, face continuous and increasing violence, Yelena kept campaigning for social justice and equality.
“She did not miss a single action. And they detained her so often that I already lost count,”
- Olga Smirnova (fellow opposition activist and friend).
Yelena was murdered on 21 July 2019, not far from home. A suspect was arrested but according to some sources, many friends and fellow activists believe that the suspect is a scapegoat and that this was a targeted political killing.
For Yelena’s relatives and friends, her case remains unsolved even though the suspect confessed.
In 2013, Russia passed legislation banning the spreading of what it described as ‘gay propaganda’. In 2014, Human Rights Watch published a report relating to this.
An exhibition by Nicole Barakat, embodying her reconnection with the diaspora of objects from her ancestral homelands in the South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA) region.
Barakat presents a collection of textile works as manifestations of her practice of engaging with displaced, and often stolen objects held within Western museum collections including the Louvre, British Museum and Nicholson Museum.
To by-pass the gatekeepers and breach the vitrines holding these ancestral objects, Barakat reclaims pre-colonial, non-linear, receptive forms of knowing that are often devalued and dismissed by colonial and patriarchal institutions - engaging with coffee cup divination, dream-work, intuitive listening and conversations with the objects themselves (source).
Данные будут обработаны в статистических целях, чтобы осветить состояние ресурсного обеспечения феминистских движений во всем мире, и представлены будут только в обобщенном виде. AWID не будет публиковать информацию о конкретных организациях или отображать информацию, которая позволила бы идентифицировать организации по их местоположению или характеристикам, без их согласия.
