by Amal Amer, California, US

I pray with my family for the first time in six years while wrapped in a keffiyah I scavenged from a dumpster.

Since coming into myself, I have refused to pray in jamaat with my family. Joining in the ranks of hierarchy, “women” behind “men” irks me. It grates my skin and teeth to the degree where I can’t focus, and the standing, bowing, and kneeling feels like a battle against my true being. Each second listening, a betrayal of my nature. Instead, I pray by myself in my own way. 

Yet this Ramadan, I feel different. Back in my childhood home after many years, I am choosing to fast. I choose suhoor with my family, and praying together feels like a natural extension of eating together. After eating, my mother, father, brother and I line up for fajr. 

I pray behind Baba, but my prayer is my own. I close my eyes, staying with my breath and my body. 

My eyes closed, I open my inner sight to a wide open window on a vista of mountains, bright sun spreading over a light mist of clouds. This was the view I had while praying in jamaat at a queer Muslim wedding I attended in the mountains of the South of France last September. 

I lined up with the wedding guests, queer and trans folks of North and West African, Arab, and European descent. Folks of all faiths joined while some chose to stand in respect at the sides or behind. The groups did not fall along fault lines of “Muslim” or “non-Muslim,”  “religious” or “non religious.” The two lovers marrying each led us in prayer, and so did the Muslim woman officiating the nikkah. Each of the three led us in two rounds of prayers, two raqat.

I showed up as I was, my body uncovered. I had not washed. I only passed my camera to a friend who chose to stand at the side. 

In the first sujood, I broke down crying. I wore a jean dress that loves my body, one found at a thrift store my ex-girlfriend pointed me to.

The sobs come through my whole body during the prayer, and I put my head to the earth with my community like a homecoming. A return to the embrace of love both intensely personal and communal, and I am held.

It feels like swimming in the sea with multiple people:  joyful togetherness. But when you go beneath the water, it’s just you and the current. 

Like a dozen people buried in the same graveyard. Separate, but sharing the same soil. Becoming one with the growing earth. 

That was how it felt to pray in communion at a queer Muslim wedding.

I welcomed the light of acceptance while showing up as myself that day, with a group of people who had also chosen to claim all the parts of themselves in love. That light made a home in me, and it illuminates my heart in the dark living room at fajr this Ramadan morning. Though I pray with my birth family who do not accept all of me, I see myself praying in jamaat at that glorious wedding with all of my queer Muslim ancestors, my queer angels, my lineage, my soul family, my queer Muslim family, all standing in prayer. Bowing as one. 

My family’s home does not always feel like my own, though I am here now. I take the bukhoor from room to room, barefoot. Smolder from the censer, an incense that says, “Here I am.” Baraka, blessings from the source of all, Allah and the Goddess to each room in the house, bidding good and dispersing the unbidden. 

As I write this the sky turns the same royal blue I am familiar with from exiting the club and pulling all-nighters. It is the gradient of morning I step into as I go to sleep. 

Word meanings:

• Ramadan: the Muslim holy month, traditionally observed with 29 days of fasting without food or water during daylight hours

• Keffiyah: a patterned scarf common in the SWANA region. The black and white version referred to here is associated with the Palestinian liberation movement 

• Pray in jamaat: Islamic ritual prayer in a group. Participants follow one person, traditionally male, who calls the prayer aloud.

• Suhoor: the meal before the fast starts at dawn

• Fajr: the dawn prayer

• Baba: father

• Raqat: one round of prayer consisting of standing, bowing, kneeling, and pressing the head to the ground

• Sujood:the prayer position when one presses one’s head to the earth

• Nikkah: the religious marriage ceremony 

• Bukhoor: an Arabic incense, woodchips soaked in resin

• Baraka: blessing

“Angels go out at night too”

by Chloé Luu (@Electrichildren), France

Pictures of angels in my life, just some women and non-binary people of color hanging out, taking care of themselves and expressing love to each other. It's these simplest moments that are the most empowering.

< Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women

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Bienvenue à Crear | Résister | Transform : un festival dédié aux mouvements féministes !

Principes d'engagement

L'AWID s'engage à créer un espace en ligne qui nous invite et nous pousse tou·te·s à faire preuve de courage, de curiosité, de générosité et de responsabilité partagée. 

Nous vous invitons à créer à nos côtés des espaces sans harcèlement ni violence, où chacun·e est respecté·e dans son identité et son expression de genre, sa race, ses capacités, sa classe, sa religion, sa langue, son ethnicité, son âge, sa profession, son type d'éducation, sa sexualité, sa taille et son apparence physique. Des espaces où nous reconnaissons les inégalités de notre monde et où nous nous efforçons de les transformer au gré de nos propres interactions avec les autres.

Nous voulons créer un espace qui permette à tout·te·s :

• d’être présent·e·s:

Soyez là les un·e·s pour les autres en étant activement à l’écoute. Essayons de nous sentir proches, même si tout est virtuel. Pour cela, vous aurez accès à l’interprétation de la discussion et à des moyens de communications ouverts (comme la boîte de dialogue et autres outils) pour réagir et échanger. Nous vous recommandons de porter des écouteurs ou un casque pendant la séance pour mieux entendre les autres et vous faire entendre. Dans la mesure du possible, essayez de fermer votre messagerie électronique ou toute autre distraction pendant que vous prenez part à la discussion.

• de valoriser toutes les formes de savoirs:

Célébrons les multiples façons dont le savoir se manifeste dans nos vies. Nous vous invitons à aborder la conversation avec curiosité et ouverture d’esprit pour apprendre des autres, en se permettant de désapprendre et de réapprendre à travers ces  échanges, comme une manièrede commencer à construire collectivement des connaissances.

• de se sentir accueillie·s: 

Nous nous engageons à adopter une approche holistique de l'accessibilité en tenant compte des différents besoins physiques, linguistiques, mentaux et de sécurité. Nous voulons un espace qui accueille des personnes d'origines, de croyances, de capacités et d'expériences différentes. Nous anticiperons au mieux mais vous demanderons également de nous communiquer vos besoins, et nous ferons de notre mieux pour y répondre.

• de se sentir en sécurité et respecté·e·s :

Nous nous engageons tou·te·s individuellement et collectivement à respecter la vie privée de chacun·e· et à demander le consentement des autres avant de partager des images ou du contenu qui les concerne,  générés au cours de la conversation.

Créer un environnement sécurisé, respectueux et agréable durant ces conversations est la responsabilité de  tou·te·s .

Signalement

Si vous remarquez qu'une personne a un comportement discriminatoire ou offensant, veuillez contacter la personne de référence qui vous sera indiquée en début de session. 

Tout·e participant·e qui utilisera un langage ou des images abusives sera exclu·e de la conversation et ne sera pas réadmis·e. Nous n’aurons plus de relations avec cette personne de quelque manière que ce soit. 

Ce que disent nos membres

Freeing the Church, Decolonizing the Bible for West Papuan Women

by Rode Wanimbo

I was born and grew up in Agamua, the Central Highlands of West Papua. My father belongs to the Lani tribe and my mother comes from Walak. (...)

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< artwork: “Offerings for Black Life” by Sokari Ekine

Colectivo Moriviví is an all women artistic collective. Our artistic production consists of muralism, community-led muralism, and protest performance/actions. Our work is about democratizing art and bringing the narratives of Puerto Rican communities to the public sphere to create spaces in which they are validated. We believe that through artivism we can promote consciousness on social issues and strengthen our collective memory.  

As part of their participation in AWID’s Artist Working Group, Colectivo Morivivi gathered a diverse group of members, partners and staff to facilitate a collaborative process of dreaming into, informing, and deciding on the content for a community mural through a multi-stage co-creation process. The project began with a remote conceptualization with feminists from different parts of the planet brought together by AWID, and then it evolved to its re-contextualization and realization in Puerto Rico. We were honored to have the input of local artists Las Nietas de Nonó(@lasnietasdenono), the participation of local women in the Community Painting Session, the logistics support from the Municipality of Caguas, and FRIDA Young Feminist Fund’s additional support to the collective.
 
The mural explores the transcendence of borders by presenting bodies like a map, in an embrace that highlights the intersection of the different feminist manifestations, practices and realities. 
 
We also thank Kelvin Rodríguez, who documented and captured the different stages of this project in Puerto Rico:

About Colectivo Morivivi