
Maria del Rosario Fuentes Rubio

Le Conseil des droits de l'homme (CDH) est un organe intergouvernemental clé du système des Nations Unies, responsable de la promotion et la protection des droits humains autour du globe. Il se réunit trois fois par an en session ordinaire, en Mars, Juin et Septembre. Le Bureau du Haut-Commissariat des Nations Unies aux Droits de l’Homme (HCDH) constitue le secrétariat pour le CDH.
Débat et adopte des résolutions sur les questions globales des droits humains ainsi que sur la situation des droits humains dans des pays particuliers
Examine les plaintes des victimes de violations des droits humains et des organisations activistes, au nom des victimes de violations des droits humains
Nomme des experts indépendants (que l'on connaît sous le nom de « Procédures Spéciales ») pour réviser les cas de violation des droits humains dans des pays spécifiques, ainsi que pour examiner et suivre des questions globales relatives aux droits humains
Prend part à des discussions avec les experts et les gouvernements sur les questions de droits humains
Évalue les bilans des États membres de l'ONU en matière de droits humains tous les quatre ans et demi, dans le cadre de l'examen périodique universel.
La prochaine session du CDH a lieu à Genève, en Suisse, du 30 juin au 17 juillet 2020.
AWID travaille avec des partenaires féministes, progressistes et du domaine des droits humains pour partager nos connaissances clé, convoquer dialogues et évènements avec la société civile, et influencer les négociations et les résultats de la session.
La creciente dominación de los mercados y las instituciones financieras internacionales en la definición de las políticas económicas globales ha tenido como resultado la captura del poder popular en aras del interés de las élites y las grandes corporaciones globales.
Este informe «Flujos financieros ilícitos» analiza su desproporcionado impacto de género y los marcos legales y políticos actuales que permiten a las corporaciones multinacionales beneficiarse del fraude fiscal en detrimento de las personas y el planeta.
El informe concluye con siete recomendaciones feministas de políticas para exigir transparencia y rendición de cuentas por parte del poder corporativo para frenar los flujos financieros ilícitos.
Los flujos financieros ilícitos están llamando la atención como nunca antes: ya sea en negociaciones para el desarrollo, como los que condujeron a la Agenda 2030 y a la Conferencia sobre Financiamiento para el
Desarrollo de Addis Abeba en 2015, u ocupando los titulares de los medios hegemónicos con la publicación de documentos filtrados sobre finanzas offshore conocidos como los «Panama Papers». En otro ejemplo, en un
referendum de febrero de 2017, el pueblo ecuatoriano votó para prohibir que políticxs y funcionarixs públicxs posean acciones, compañías o capital en paraísos fiscales. El Gobierno de Ecuador es ahora, dentro del grupo
G-77, una de las voces principales que reclaman en las Naciones Unidas la creación de un organismo tributario global para poner fin a los paraísos fiscales.
Esta atención pública potencialmente da impulso para que lxs feministas, los movimientos sociales y lxs defensores de la justicia tributaria presionen por la transformación del sistema financiero internacional, donde
se arraigan desigualdades globales, incluidas las desigualdades de género.
Ofrecemos aquí siete pedidos de políticas como contribución a los crecientes esfuerzos de incidencia de actores por la justicia social, feministas, por los derechos de las mujeres y por la igualdad de género.
4. Promover la transparencia y la recolección de datos con perspectiva de género:
7. Poner fin a la impunidad de las actividades delictivas asociadas con los flujos financieros ilícitos y garantizar la rendición de cuentas:
يتبيّن من هذه التويتات الفكاهة المقرونة بالإثارة والاهتياج الجنسيّ، التي تتّسم بها المقاربة النسوية لكتابة الرسائل ذات المضامين الجنسية، دون أن تُسقط عن نفسها الالتزام بالمساواة والعدالة.
@shalinikonanur sharing a comment by her colleague debbie @salco "we can talk about shattering the glass ceiling, but we have to talk about who are sweeping those broken glasses?" challenging the #G7 to truly see who's vulnerable domestically & globally #W7Canada @kramdas @AWID pic.twitter.com/1rs0SpLYHp
— Tenzin Dolker cyclone (@T_Dolker) 25 de abril de 2018
عزمي الوصول الى الذروة الجنسية، كفيلة بإيقاظ الأجداد من مثواهم الأخير وإعادتهم الى صفوف الثورة التقدميّة
Ressources en soutien aux mouvements féministes, aux décideur·euse·s et aux allié·e·s pour résister aux tendances antidroits.
As you plan the activity you would like to do at the Forum, please also consider how you will fund your participation. Typical Costs include: accommodation, travel, visa, forum registration fees, etc.
It is important to note that this Forum will have many ‘open spaces’ and moments for movements to learn and exchange, but fewer formal sessions. (See “Ways to describe the Forum in your fundraising” below for language to use in your outreach.)
Reach out to your current donors first : Your best option is always a current funder that you have.
Make sure to do it in advance : We recommend contacting them by early 2020 at the latest. Many funders who support feminist organizations have some budget allocated for Forum travel. Others may be able to include it in renewal grants or through other travel funds.
If your group has funders, tell them that you want to attend the AWID Forum to learn, experience, exchange and network- even if your activity does not get selected for the final program. In order to be able to support your participation, your donors will need to know about it well in advance so tell them right away! (they are already deciding which funds they will distribute in 2020).
If you do not currently have donor support or are not able to secure grants for Forum travel, consider reaching out to new donors.
Deadlines and requirements vary by funder, and a grant review process can take many months. If you’re considering applying for new grants, do so as soon as possible.
Feminist movements have long gotten creative with funding our own activism. Here are some ideas that we have gathered to inspire alternative ways of fundraising:
For more inspiration, see AWID’s ongoing series on autonomous resourcing, including specific ideas for conference raising participation funds.
AWID strives to make the Forum a truly global gathering with participation from diverse movements, regions and generations. To this end, AWID mobilizes resources for a limited Access Fund (AF) to assist Forum participants with the costs of attending the Forum.
AWID’s Access Fund will provide support to a limited number of Forum participants and session/activity facilitators. You can indicate in your application if you would like to apply to the AWID Access Fund. This is not guaranteed, and we strongly encourage you to seek alternative funding for your participation and travel to the Forum.
Even if you apply for the AWID Access Fund, we encourage you to continue to explore other options to fund your participation in the Forum. Access Fund decisions will be confirmed by the end of June 2020. Please remember that these resources are very limited, and we will be unable to support all applicants.
As you reach out to funders or your own networks, here is some sample messaging that may be helpful. Feel free to adapt it in whatever way is useful for you!
The AWID Forum is a co-created feminist movement space that energizes participants in their own activism, and strengthens connections with others across multiple rights and justice movements. Participants get to draw from wells of hope, energy and radical imagination, as well as deepen shared analysis, learning, and build cross-movement solidarity to develop more integrated agendas and advance joint strategies.
Our organization is seeking funds to attend the Forum in order to connect with other activists and movements from around the world, strengthen our strategies, and share our work. We are inspired by past participants, who have described the power of this global feminist gathering:
“Over four days … voices weaved together into a global perspective on the state of gender equality. And when I say global, I mean simultaneous translation into seven languages kind of global ....”
“It was reminding us that we are not alone. The Forum provided a means of translating collectivity into our movements. Whether across ideologies, identities or borders, our strength is in our vision and our support of one another.”
It is important to note that this Forum will have many ‘open spaces’ and moments for movements to learn and exchange, but fewer formal sessions. While many attendees will not be presenting in formal sessions, there will be invaluable space to learn, strategize, and experience feminist movements’ collective power in action.
When calculating your costs and how much you need to raise, it is important to factor in costs that may come up. Here’s an example of key items to consider:
The AWID Forum will now take place 11-14 January 2021 in Taipei .
It is more than a four-day convening. It is one more stop on a movement strengthening journey around Feminist Realities that has already begun and will continue well beyond the Forum dates.
Ika Vantiani is an Indonesian artist, curator and crafter based in Jakarta. Her works explores the idea of being a woman in today’s society with the intertwined between media and consumption. Ika uses the discipline of collage and expands it into workshop, installation, and street art. Ika is the member of artist collectives including Micro Galleries, The Collage Club and It’s In Your Hands Collective.
Sobre la base de una investigación documental inicial y de consultas con aliadxs (que nos llevaron a eliminar muchas otras opciones de la región), organizamos una serie de visitas exhaustivas a Nepal, Malasia, Sri Lanka, Tailandia, Indonesia y, más tarde, Taiwán.
Cada visita incluyó, no solo la evaluación de la infraestructura logística, sino también encuentros con grupos y activistas feministas locales para entender mejor el contexto y conocer su percepción de las oportunidades y los riesgos potenciales de organizar un Foro de AWID en sus contextos.
Estos movimientos expresaron, en varias ocasiones, sentimientos encontrados respecto de las oportunidades y los riesgos que podría acarrearles la visibilidad de un evento como el Foro. En una de las visitas, durante los primeros treinta minutos de la reunión, escuchamos a lxs activistas presentes decir, en forma unánime, que un Foro de AWID sufriría una enorme reacción, que los derechos LGBTQ son un asunto particularmente candente, y que los grupos fundamentalistas aparecerían con toda su fuerza a interrumpir el evento.
Cuando respondimos, «De acuerdo, entonces ustedes no creen que sea una buena idea», nuevamente la respuesta unánime fue «Por supuesto que es una buena idea, ¡queremos cambiar la narrativa!». En algunos de estos lugares nos resultó difícil oír y ver que muchxs activistas feministas querían aprovechar la oportunidad de un evento grande y visible, y que estaban preparadxs a enfrentar los riesgos locales; pero nuestras consideraciones, como anfitrionxs de casi dos mil personas de todo el mundo, nos imponen un cálculo distinto del riesgo y la factibilidad.
También tuvimos que analizar qué significa organizar un foro feminista que a sea coherente con los principios de inclusión, reciprocidad y autodeterminación, en aquellos casos en que la política y la práctica de Estado son, en general, contrarias a estos principios (aunque lxs funcionarixs de los ministerios de turismo hayan trabajado arduamente para atenuar estas características).
En muchos de estos lugares, monitorear el contexto nos resultó un ejercicio pendular: de un momento abierto y seguro para los debates feministas podíamos pasar a otro de brutal represión y xenofobia, capaz de sacrificar las prioridades feministas como piezas de negociación política para tranquilizar a las fuerzas antiderechos del ala derechista.
Nuestras dificultades en la región Asia-Pacífico nos llevaron a preguntarnos si no sería más fácil mover el Foro a una región distinta. Sin embargo, hoy en día no podríamos organizar un Foro de AWID en Estambul como lo hicimos en 2012, ni podríamos hacerlo en Brasil como lo hicimos en 2016.
Al organizar el Foro de AWID, estamos tratando de construir y sostener, de la mejor manera posible, un espacio para las diversas expresiones de solidaridad, indignación, esperanza e inspiración que son el núcleo de los movimientos feministas.
En este momento, creemos que Taipéi es la sede, dentro de la región Asia-Pacífico, que mejor nos permitirá construir ese espacio seguro y rebelde para nuestra comunidad feminista global.
De hecho, en el mundo contemporáneo no existe una ubicación ideal para un Foro centrado en las Realidades Feministas. Donde sea que vayamos, ¡debemos construir ese espacio juntxs!
Explora estos proyectos elaborados por los equipos de AWID para promover la defensoría de derechos y perspectivas feministas.
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.
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?
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.
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
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.
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 >
Hakima Abbas, AWID
"Nous utilisons les outils dont nous disposons pour partager notre résistance, nos stratégies et continuer à renforcer notre pouvoir d'agir et de créer de nouveaux mondes courageux et justes."