Across the globe, feminist, women’s rights and gender justice defenders are challenging the agendas of fascist and fundamentalist actors. These oppressive forces target women, persons who are non-conforming in their gender identity, expression and/or sexual orientation, and other oppressed communities.
Discriminatory ideologies are undermining and co-opting our human rights systems and standards, with the aim of making rights the preserve of only certain groups. In the face of this, the Advancing Universal Rights and Justice (AURJ) initiative promotes the universality of rights - the foundational principle that human rights belong to everyone, no matter who they are, without exception.
We create space for feminist, women’s rights and gender justice movements and allies to recognize, strategize and take collective action to counter the influence and impact of anti-rights actors. We also seek to advance women’s rights and feminist frameworks, norms and proposals, and to protect and promote the universality of rights.
Mona was an economist and an independent consultant on gender and development issues.
She was a former Professor of Economics and Director of the Institute for Women's Studies in the Arab World at the Lebanese American University.
She passed away suddenly on January 6, 2018.
Friends and former colleagues say of Mona: “When we celebrate her life, the best thing we can do is commit to continuing what she started: gender equality no matter what.”
Anti-rights actors adopt a double strategy. As well as launching outright attacks on the multilateral system, anti-rights actors also undermine human rights from within. Anti-rights actors engage with the aim of co-opting processes, entrenching regressive norms, and undermining accountability.
Anti-rights actors’ engagement in international human rights spaces has a principal purpose: to undermine the system and its ability to respect, protect and fulfill human rights for all people, and to hold member states accountable for violations. Some anti-rights tactics operate from outside the UN and include delegitimization and political pressure to defund the UN, or to withdraw from international human rights agreements. In recent years, anti-rights actors have also gained increasing influence inside the UN. Their inside tactics include training of delegates, distortion of human rights frameworks, watering down human rights agreements, infiltrating NGO committees, applying for ECOSOC status under neutral names, infiltrating youth spaces, and lobbying to place anti-rights actors in key positions.
Sue was an artist, activist and teacher born in 1936 in Maryland, USA.
Sue created art for women, about women. As a lesbian feminist, and for a time, a separatist, she was committed to creating women-only spaces. In 1976 she purchased land that is still held by women who visit to make art. Sue took a fierce stand on the protection of women and girls.
With her groundbreaking futuristic, classical and anthropological approach, she filled any room she entered with intellect, authentic eccentricity, unforgiving wit, and humor. Her ideas about consciousness and creativity continue to inspire many people.
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As an online participant, you can facilitate activities, connect and converse with others, and experience first-hand the creativity, art and celebration of the AWID Forum. Participants connecting online will enjoy a rich and diverse program, from workshops and discussions to healing activities and musical performances. Some activities will focus on connection among online participants, and others will be truly hybrid, focusing on connection and interaction among online participants and those in Bangkok.
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Tshegofatso Senne is a Black, chronically-ill, genderqueer feminist who does the most. Much of their work is rooted in pleasure, community, and dreaming, while being informed by somatic abolitionism and disability, healing, and transformative justices. Writing, researching, and speaking on issues concerning feminism, community, sexual and reproductive justice, consent, rape culture, and justice, Tshegofatso has 8 years of experience theorising on the ways in which these topics intersect with pleasure. They run their own business, Thembekile Stationery, and their community platform Hedone brings people together to explore and understand the power of trauma-awareness and pleasure in their daily lives. Tshegofatso believes deeply in the individual and collective potential of regenerative and sustainable change, pleasure, and care work. |
The body, not the thinking brain, is where we experience most of our pain, pleasure, and joy, and where we process most of what happens to us. It is also where we do most of our healing, including our emotional and psychological healing. And it is where we experience resilience and a sense of flow.
These words, said by Resmaa Menakem in his book My Grandmother’s Hands, have stayed with me.
The body; it holds our experiences. Our memories. Our resilience. And as Menakem has written, the body also holds our traumas. It responds with spontaneous protective mechanisms to stop or prevent more damage. That is the power of the body. Trauma is not the event; it is how our bodies respond to events that feel dangerous to us. It is often left stuck in the body, until we address it. There’s no talking our body out of this response – it just is.
Using Ling Tan’s Digital Superpower app, I tracked how my body felt as I travelled around different parts of my city, Johannesburg, South Africa. The app is a gesture-driven online platform that allows you to trace your perceptions as you move through locations by logging and recording the data. I used it to track my psychosomatic symptoms – physical reactions connected to a mental cause. Whether that be flashbacks. Panic attacks. Tightness in the chest. A fast heartbeat. Tension headaches. Muscle pain. Insomnia. Struggling to breathe. I tracked these symptoms as I walked and travelled to different areas in Johannesburg. And I asked myself.
Where can we be safe? Can we be safe?
Psychosomatic responses can be caused by a number of things, and some are not as severe as others. After experiencing any kind of trauma you may feel intense distress in similar events or situations. I tracked my sensations, ranked on a scale of 1-5, where 1 were the instances I barely felt any of these symptoms – I felt at ease rather than on-guard and jumpy, my breath and heart rate were stable, I was not looking over my shoulder – and number 5 being the opposite – symptoms that had me close to a panic attack.
As a Black person. As a queer person. As a genderqueer person who could be perceived as a woman, depending on what my gender expression is that day.
I asked myself.
Where can we be safe?
Even in neighbourhoods one might consider “safe,” I felt constantly panicked. Looking around me to make sure I wasn’t being followed, adjusting the way my T-shirt sat so my breasts wouldn’t show up as much, looking around to make sure I knew multiple routes to get out of the place I was should I sense danger. An empty road brings anxiety. A packed one does too. Being in an Uber does. Walking on a public road does. Being in my apartment does. So does picking up a delivery from the front of the building.
Can we be safe?
Pumla Dineo Gqola speaks of the Female Fear Factory. It may or may not be familiar, but if you’re someone socialised as a woman, you’ll know this feeling well. The feeling that has you planning every step you take, whether you’re going to work, school, or just running an errand. The feeling that you have to watch how you dress, act, speak in public and private spaces. The feeling in the pit of your stomach if you have to travel at night, get a delivery, or deal with any person who continues to socialise as a cis man. Harassed on the street, always with the threat of violence. Us existing in any space comes with an innate fear.
Fear is both an individual and a socio-political phenomenon. At an individual level, fear can be present as part of a healthy well developing warning system […] When we think about fear, it is important to hold both notions of individual emotional experience and the political ways in which fear has been used in different epochs for control.
- Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
South African women, femmes, and queers know that every step we take outside – steps to do ordinary things: a walk to the shops, a taxi to work, an Uber from a party – all of these acts are a negotiation with violence. This fear, is part of the trauma. To cope with the trauma we carry in our bodies, we develop responses to detect danger – watching the emotional responses of those around us, reading for “friendliness.” We’re constantly on guard.
Day after day. Year after year. Life after life. Generation after generation.
On the additional challenge of this learned defence system, author of The Body Keeps Score, Bessel Van Der Kolk, has said
It disrupts this ability to accurately read others, rendering the trauma survivor either less able to detect danger or more likely to misperceive danger where there is none. It takes tremendous energy to keep functioning while carrying the memory of terror, and the shame of utter weakness and vulnerability.
As Resmaa Menakem has said, trauma is in everything; it infiltrates the air we breathe, the water we drink, the foods we eat. It is in the systems that govern us, the institutions that teach and also traumatise us, and within the social contracts we enter into with each other. Most importantly, we take it with us everywhere we go, in our bodies, exhausting us and eroding our health and happiness. We carry that truth in our bodies. Generations of us have.
So, as I walk around my city, whether an area is considered “safe” or not, I carry the traumas of generations whose responses are embedded in my body. My heart palpitates, it becomes difficult to breathe, my chest tightens – because my body feels as though the trauma is happening in that very moment. I live hyper vigilant. To the point where one is either too on-guard to mindfully enjoy their life, or too numb to absorb new experiences.
For us to begin to heal, we need to acknowledge these truths.
These truths that live in our bodies.
This trauma is what keeps many of us from living the lives we want. Ask any femme or queer person what safety looks like to them and they’ll mostly share examples that are simple tasks – being able to simply live joyful lives, without the constant threat of violence.
Feelings of safety, of comfort and ease, are spatial. When we embody our trauma, it affects the ways we perceive our own safety, affects the ways we interact with the world, and alters the ways we are able to experience and embody anything pleasurable and joyful.
We have to refuse this burdensome responsibility and fight for a safe world for all of us. Walking wounded as many of us are, we are fighters. Patriarchy may terrorise and brutalise us, but we will not give up the fight. As we repeatedly take to the streets, defying the fear in spectacular and seemingly insignificant ways, we defend ourselves and speak in our own name.
- Pumla Dineo Gqola, in her book Rape: A South African Nightmare
Where can we be safe? How do we begin to defend ourselves, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional, psychological, and spiritual senses?
“Trauma makes weapons out of us all,” adrienne maree brown has said in an interview conducted by Justin Scott Campbell. And her work, Pleasure Activism, offers us multiple methodologies to heal that trauma and ground ourselves in the understanding that healing, justice, and liberation can also be pleasurable experiences. Especially those of us who are the most marginalised, who may have been raised to equate suffering with “The Work.” The Work that so many of us have gone into as activists, community builders and workers, those serving the most marginalised, The Work that we struggle in order to do, burning ourselves out and rarely caring for our minds and bodies. The alternative is becoming more informed about our trauma, able to identify our own needs, and becoming deeply embodied. That embodiment means we are simply more able to experience the world through the senses and sensations in our bodies, acknowledging what they tell us rather than suppressing and ignoring the information it is communicating with us.
Being constantly in conversation with our living body and intentionally practising those conversations connects us to embodiment more deeply; it allows us to make tangible the emotions we feel as we interact with the world, befriend our bodies, and understand all that they try to teach us. When understanding trauma and embodiment paired, we can begin to start the healing and access pleasure more holistically, healthily, and in our daily lives without shame and guilt. We can begin to access pleasure as a tool for individual and social change, tapping into the power of the erotic as Audre Lorde described it. A power that allows us to share the joy we access and experience, expanding our capacity for happiness and understanding that we are deserving of it, even with our trauma.
Tapping into pleasure and embodying the erotic gives us the expansion of being deliberately alive, feeling grounded and stable and understanding our nervous systems. It allows us to understand and shed the generational baggage we’ve been carrying without realising; we can be empowered with the knowledge that even as traumatised as we are, as traumatised as we potentially could be in the future, we are still deserving of pleasurable and joyful lives, that we can share that power with our people. It is the community aspect that is missing from the ways we care for ourselves; self-care cannot exist without community care. We are able to feel a deeper internal trust, safety, and power of ourselves, especially in the face of future traumas that will trigger us, knowing how to soothe and stabilise ourselves. All this understanding leads us to a deep internal power that is resourced to meet any challenges that come your way.
As those living with deep generational traumas, we have come to distrust and perhaps think we are incapable of containing and accessing the power we have. In “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” Lorde teaches us that the erotic offers a source of replenishment, a way to demand better for ourselves and our lives.
For the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing. Once we know the extent to which we are capable of feeling that sense of satisfaction and completion, we can then observe which of our various life endeavours brings us closest to that fullness.
I don’t say any of this lightly – I know that this is easier said than done. I know that many of us are prevented from understanding these truths, from internalising or even healing them. Resistance comes with acts of feeling unsafe, but is not impossible. Resisting power structures that keep the most powerful safe will always endanger those of us shoved to the margins. Acknowledging the traumas you’ve faced is a reclamation of your lived experiences, those that have passed and those that will follow; it is resistance that embodies that knowledge that we are deserving of more than the breadcrumbs these systems have forced us to lap up. It is a resistance that understands that pleasure is complicated by trauma, but it can be accessed in arbitrary and powerful ways. It is a resistance that acknowledges that our trauma is a resource that connects us to each other, and can allow us to keep each other safe. It is a resistance that understands that even with pleasure and joy, this is not a utopia; we will still harm and be harmed, but we will be better equipped for survival and thrive in a community of diverse care and kindness. A resistance that makes way for healing and connecting to our full human selves.
Healing will never be an easy and rosy journey, but it begins with the acknowledgment of the possibility. When oppression makes us believe that pleasure is not something that we all have equal access to, one of the ways that we start doing the work of reclaiming our full selves — our whole liberated, free selves — is by reclaiming our access to pleasure.
Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha has said in her article in Pleasure Activism (to which she contributed),
I know that for most people, the words “care” and “pleasure” can’t even be in the same sentence. We’re all soaking in ableism’s hatred of bodies that have needs, and we’re given a really shitty choice: either have no needs and get to have autonomy, dignity, and control over your life or admit you need care and lose all of the above.
The power that this has? We understand our traumas, so we understand those of others; we embody the sensations we experience and tend to them rather than distract and avoid. We access pleasure in ways that make us want to share that joy with those in our communities. When we are trauma-informed, we give ourselves more room to experience all this and give ourselves, and others, permission to heal. Imagine, a community in which everyone has access, resources, and time to live pleasurable lives, in whichever way they want and deserve. In which spatial traumas are lessened because the people that occupy them are trauma-aware, are filled with a tender care. Isn’t that healing? Is that not working through generational traumas? Does that not build and sustain healthier futures for us all?
It is time we reconnected with the ancestral knowledge that we deserve to live full lives. We need to get back in touch with our natural right to joy and existing for ourselves. To feel pleasure simply for the sake of it. To not live lives of terror. It sounds radical; it feels radical. In a world where we have been socialised and traumatised to numb, to fear, to feel and remain powerless, to be greedy and live with structural issues that lead to mental illness, what a gift and wonder it is to begin to feel, to be in community with those who feel, to be healthily interdependent in, to love each other boldly. Feeling is radical. Pleasure is radical. Healing is radical.
You have permission to feel pleasure. You have permission to dance, create, make love to yourself and others, celebrate and cultivate joy. You are encouraged to do so. You have permission to heal. Don’t bottle it up inside, don’t try to move through this time alone. You have permission to grieve. And you have permission to live.
- adrienne maree brown, “You Have Permission”
Somatic embodiment allows us to explore our trauma, work through it and make meaningful connections to ourselves and the collective. Doing this over time sustains our healing; just like trauma, healing is not a one-time only event. This healing helps move us toward individual and collective liberation.
In “A Queer Politics of Pleasure,” Andy Johnson speaks about the ways in which the queering of pleasure offers us sources of healing, acceptance, release, playfulness, wholeness, defiance, subversion, and freedom. How expansive! When we embody pleasure in ways that are this holistic, this queer, we are able to acknowledge the limitation.
Queering pleasure also asks us the questions that intersect our dreaming with our lived realities.
Who is free or deemed worthy enough to feel pleasure? When is one allowed to feel pleasure or pleased? With whom can one experience pleasure? What kind of pleasure is accessible? What limits one from accessing their full erotic and pleased potential?
- Andy Johnson, “A Queer Politics
of Pleasure”
When our trauma-informed pleasure practices are grounded in community care, we begin to answer some of these questions. We begin to understand the liberating potential. As pleasure activists, this is the reality we ground ourselves within. The reality that says, my pleasure may be fractal, but it has the potential to heal not only me and my community, but future bloodlines.
I am a whole system; we are whole systems. We are not just our pains, not just our fears, and not just our thoughts. We are entire systems wired for pleasure, and we can learn how to say yes from the inside out.
- Prentis Hemphill, interviewed by Shar Jossell
There’s a world of pleasure that allows us to begin to understand ourselves holistically, in ways that give us room to rebuild the realities that affirm that we are capable and deserving of daily pleasure. BDSM, one of my deepest pleasures, allows me a glimpse into these realities where I can both feel and heal my trauma, as well as feel immeasurable opportunities to say yes from the inside out. While trauma keeps me stuck in a cycle of fight or flight, bondage, kneeling, impact, and breath play encourage me to stay grounded and connected, reconnecting to restoration. Pleasure that is playful allows me to heal, to identify where traumatic energy is stored in my body and focus my energy there. It allows me to express the sensations my body feels through screams of pain and delight, to express my no with no fear and revel in the fuck yes. With a safety plan, aftercare, and a deeper understanding of trauma, kink offers a place of pleasure and healing that is invaluable.
So whether your pleasure looks like cooking a meal at your leisure, engaging in sex, having bed days with your people, participating in disability care collectives, having someone spit in your mouth, going on accessible outings, having cuddle dates, attending an online dance party, spending time in your garden, being choked out in a dungeon,
I hope you take pleasure with you wherever you go. I hope it heals you and your people.
Recognising the power of the erotic within our lives can give us the energy to pursue genuine change within our world.
- Audre Lorde, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power”
This journal edition in partnership with Kohl: a Journal for Body and Gender Research, will explore feminist solutions, proposals and realities for transforming our current world, our bodies and our sexualities.
نصدر النسخة هذه من المجلة بالشراكة مع «كحل: مجلة لأبحاث الجسد والجندر»، وسنستكشف عبرها الحلول والاقتراحات وأنواع الواقع النسوية لتغيير عالمنا الحالي وكذلك أجسادنا وجنسانياتنا.
Peni was a radical feminist philosopher, poet, writer, playwright and songwriter.
As the first coordinator for the Fiji Women’s Rights Movement, she left a legacy that was infused with her deep concern for women’s human rights, justice and peace. Peni’s commitment to social, economic and ecological justice and her outstanding work gained local and international respect. She was one of the first in mainstream feminist movements in Fiji to work with, and beside LGBTQI people as a real accomplice, and provided practical assistance to the early Fiji sex worker movement.
Her colleagues described her as a formidable individual and visionary leader for change. She inspired many by her creativity and courage. Her work provided platforms for people to be heard, attain new skills and forge new pathways both at the personal and community level.
“ภารกิจในชีวิตของฉันไม่ใช่แค่การอยู่รอดเท่านั้น แต่ยังต้องเจริญเติบโตอีกด้วย และทำให้เต็มที่ด้วยแรงปรารถนา ด้วยความเห็นอกเห็นใจ ด้วยอารมณ์ขัน และมีสไตล์” - มายา แองเจลู (Maya Angelou)
เวทีการประชุมนานาชาติ AWID เป็นทั้งกิจกรรมชุมชนระดับโลกและพื้นที่ของการเปลี่ยนแปลงของปัจเจก บุคคลอย่างสิ้นเชิง เป็นการประชุมที่ไม่เหมือนใคร คือเป็นที่รวบรวมนักสตรีนิยม นักปกป้องสิทธิสตรี ความยุติธรรมทางเพศ LBTQI+ และพันธมิตรในขบวนการเคลื่อนไหวเพื่อมนุษยชาติอันหลากหลาย เพื่อเชื่อมต่อ เยียวยาและเติบโต เวทีนานาชาตินี้เป็นพื้นที่ที่นักสตรีนิยมจากทั่วทุกมุมโลก รวมถึงจากประเทศในกลุ่มโลกใต้ และชุมชนชายขอบที่ไม่ได้รับการเหลียวแลมาอย่างยาวนาน เป็นศูนย์กลางในการวาง ยุทธศาสตร์ร่วมกัน และเคลื่อนไหวเพื่อความยุติธรรมทางสังคม เพื่อเปลี่ยนอำนาจ สร้างพันธมิตร และ สร้างโลกที่แตกต่างและดีขึ้น
เมื่อผู้คนทั่วโลกมารวมตัวกันทั้งในฐานะปัจเจกบุคคลและองค์กรเคลื่อนไหว เราสามารถสร้างพลังอันยิ่งใหญ่ จึงขอเชิญท่านร่วมกิจกรรมกับเราที่กรุงเทพฯ ประเทศไทยในปี 2567 มาร้องเพลง เต้นรำ วาดฝัน และลุกขึ้นพร้อมกัน
วันที่: 2–5 ธันวาคม 2567
สถานที่: กรุงเทพฯ ประเทศไทย; และทางออนไลน์
ผู้เข้าร่วม: นักสตรีนิยมจากทั่วโลกเข้าร่วมด้วยตนเอง ณ สถานที่จัดงานประมาณ 2,500 คน และเข้าร่วม
ทางออนไลน์ 3,000 คน
By: Marianne Mesfin Asfaw
I have many fond memories in my journey with feminism, but one in particular that stands out. It was during my time at graduate school, at a lecture I attended as part of a Feminist Theory course. This lecture was on African feminism and in it the professor talked about the history of Pan Africanism and the ways in which it was patriarchal, male-centric, and how Pan Africanist scholars perpetuated the erasure of African women. She talked about how African women’s contributions to the anti-colonial and decolonial struggles on the continent are rarely, if ever, discussed and given their due credit. We read about the African feminist scholars challenging this erasure and actively unearthing these stories of African women led movements and resistance efforts. It seems so simple but what stood out to me the most was that somebody put the words African and feminist together. Better yet, that there were many more of us out there wrestling with the complicated history, politics and societal norms in the various corners of the continent and we were all using a feminist lens to do this. I came out of that lecture feeling moved and completely mind-blown. After the lecture three of my friends (all African feminists) and I spent some time debriefing outside the classroom. We were all so struck by the brilliance of the lecture and the content but, more than anything, we all felt so seen. That feeling stood out to me.
Falling in love feminism was thrilling. It felt like finally getting to talk to your longtime crush and finding out that they like you back. I call it my crush because in high school I referred to myself as a feminist but I didn’t feel like I knew enough about it. Was there a right way to be feminist? What if I wasn’t doing it right? Attending my first Women’s Studies lecture answered some of these questions for me. It was thrilling to learn about stories of feminist resistance and dismantling the patriarchy. I felt so affirmed and validated, but I also felt like something was missing.
Deepening my relationship with feminism through academia, at an institution where the students and teaching staff were mostly white meant that, for those first few years, I noticed that we rarely had discussions about how race and anti-blackness show up in mainstream feminist movements. In most courses we had maybe 1 week, or worse 1 lecture, dedicated to race and we would usually read something by bell hooks, Kimberly Crenshaw’s work on intersectionality, and maybe Patricia Hill Collins. The following week we were back to sidelining the topic. I dealt with this by centring race and black feminism in almost all my assignments, by writing about black hair and respectability politics, the hypersexualization of black women’s bodies, and so much more. Over time I realized that I was trying to fill a gap but didn’t quite know what it was.
Encountering and learning about African feminism was a full circle moment. I realized that there was so much more I had to learn.
Mainly that my Africanness and my feminist politics did not have to be separate. In fact, there was so much that they could learn from each other and there were African feminists out there already doing this work. It was the missing piece that felt so elusive during my exploration of feminism throughout my academic journey.
Feminism to me is the antithesis to social and political apathy. It also means once you adopt a feminist lens, nothing can ever be the same. My friends and I used to talk about how it was like putting on glasses that you can never take off because you now see the world for what it is, mess and all. A mess you can’t simply ignore or walk away from. Therefore my vow to the feminist movement is to never stop learning, to keep stretching the bounds of my empathy and to never live passively. To dedicate more time and space in my life to feminist movements and to continue to amplify, celebrate, document and cite the work of African feminists. I also commit to centring care and prioritizing pleasure in this feminist journey because we can’t sustain our movements without this.
Su’ad was a strong advocate of women’s and children’s rights, and was the head of Al-Weed Al-Alaiami - an Iraqi human rights organisation.
She participated in the July 2018 demonstrations that took place in Basra and several other Iraqi cities protesting unemployment and demanding jobs and proper public services for citizens, as well as calling for the elimination of rampant corruption.
On 25 September 2018, Su’ad was assassinated in the Al-Abbasiyah district in downtown Basra. A video of the incident showed a person approaching her as she was getting into her car, firing a bullet at the back of her head and pointing another bullet at her driver Hussain Hassan, who was injured in the shoulder. Al-Ali was 46 and the mother of four children.
การเสวนา: ในการเสวนาให้สำรวจปัญหาหรือความท้าทายจากมุมมองที่แตกต่างกัน หรือแบ่งปัน การเรียนรู้หรือประสบการณ์ ตามด้วยคำถามของผู้ฟังหากมีเวลา
รายการทอล์คโชว์: สนทนาแบบเป็นไปเองในรูปแบบรายการทอล์คโชว์ โดยอาจเป็นการสนทนา ร่วมกันหลายคน มีพิธีกรเป็นผู้ดำเนินรายการ คำถามของผู้ฟังสามารถกำหนดทิศทางของการสนทนาได้
การอภิปราย: วงสนทนาอภิปรายอาจอยู่ในรูปแบบเวิร์ลคาเฟ่ วงอ่างปลา (fishbowls) และรูปแบบอื่นๆ ที่เอื้อให้ผู้เข้าร่วมมีส่วนร่วมในการสนทนามากขึ้น
การประชุมเชิงปฏิบัติการ (workshop): เป็นกิจกรรมเชิงโต้ตอบที่เชิญชวนผู้เข้าร่วมสร้างทักษะใหม่ๆในทุกด้านของชีวิตและการเคลื่อนไหวผ่านกิจกรรมและการปฏิบัติ
หัวข้อยุทธศาสตร์: เป็นการเชิญชวนให้คิดผ่านประเด็นหรือยุทธศาสตร์ในเชิงลึกร่วมกับคนอื่น เปิดพื้นที่ สำหรับเรียนรู้กันและกัน สิ่งใดได้ผล ไม่ได้ผล และเราจะพัฒนายุทธศาสตร์ใหม่ๆร่วมกันเพื่อสร้างโลกที่ เราใฝ่ฝันได้อย่างไร
วงแลกเปลี่ยนของคนแนวเดียวกัน: (หรือที่เรียกว่า "Birds of a Feather") เหมาะสำหรับกลุ่มเล็กๆ ในบรรยากาศที่ใกล้ชิดยิ่งขึ้น เพื่อรับฟังความคิดเห็นของกันและกัน จุดประกาย การอภิปราย และ หยิบยกประเด็นหัวข้อที่เฉพาะเจาะจง ละเอียดอ่อน และซับซ้อนอย่างระมัดระวัง
ศิลปะ - การประชุมเชิงปฏิบัติการแบบมีส่วนร่วม: กิจกรรมศิลปะอย่างมีส่วนร่วม และการแสดงออก อย่างสร้างสรรค์ ไม่ว่าจะเป็นทัศนศิลป์ การละคร ภาพยนตร์ จิตรกรรมฝาผนัง การเต้นรำ ดนตรี งานฝีมือ หรือการสร้างงานศิลปะ ฯลฯ เรายินดีรับทุกแนวคิดที่เชิดชูศิลปะ และความคิดสร้างสรรค์แนวสตรีนิยมใน รูปแบบของการเปลี่ยนแปลงทางสังคม การเยียวยา การแสดงออก และการเปลี่ยนแปลง
ศิลปะ - การแสดง ศิลปะจัดวาง และนิทรรศการ: เรายินดีรับผลงานที่นำเสนอประสบการณ์ และมุมมองใหม่ๆแก่ผู้เข้าร่วมประชุมในเวทีนี้เพื่อขยายขอบเขตของเรา สร้างความท้าทายและสร้าง แรงบันดาลใจ ให้เราคิด รู้สึก และจัดการด้วยวิธีใหม่ๆ
การเยียวยาและบำบัด: กิจกรรมหลากหลายที่เหมาะกับกลุ่มและปัจเจกบุคคล ตั้งแต่การเรียนรู้เทคนิค การผ่อนคลาย ไปจนถึงการพูดคุยถึงการป้องกันภาวะหมดไฟ และตั้งแต่การดูแลร่างกาย จิตใจและ จิตวิญญาณ โดยคำนึงถึงบาดแผลทางจิตใจ ไปจนถึงการเยียวยารอยร้าวในขบวนการเคลื่อนไหวของเรา
I never knew I have a close family who loves me and wants me to grow, My mum has always been there for me, but I never imagined I would have thousands of families out there who are not related to me by blood.
I found out family are not just people related by blood ties, but people who love you unconditionally, not minding your sexual orientation, your health status, social status, or your race.
Thinking about the precious moments I listened to all my sisters around the world who are strong feminists, people I have not meet physically, but who support me, teach me, fight for me: I am short of words, words cannot express how much I love you mentors and other feminists, you’re a mother, a sister, a friend to millions of girls.
You are amazing, you fought for people you don’t know - and that is what makes you so special.
It gladdens my heart to express this through writing.
I love you all and will continue to love you. I have not seen any one of you physically but it seems we have known each other for decades.
We are feminists and we are proud to be women.
We will keep letting the world know that our courage is our crown.
A love letter from FAITH ONUH, a young feminist from Nigeria
The personal is political - and fiery and courageous Nadyn Jouny personified this feminist mantra. Nadyn experienced firsthand the pain of structural violence in legal systems that strip women of their rights.
When she decided to file for divorce, the religious Shitte courts under the Lebanese Personal Status laws, denied her custody of her young son Karam. Nadyn, like so many other women across Lebanon and other countries, was caught in the impossible pain of leaving an unwanted and abusive relationship and also losing the rights to her child. But Nadyn fought back, as she would until her last day.
She used her media savvy to become an outspoken voice to women fighting discriminatory family laws in Lebanon and internationally. Nadyn co-founded the self-funded group, “Protecting Lebanese Women” (PLW) and banded with many other Lebanese mothers facing similar custody issues. Together, they advocated to raise awareness of the injustices they were facing, protesting in front of the religious courts for their rights and bringing international media attention to extreme injustices they were facing.
Nadyn also worked with ABAAD - Resource Center for Gender Equality, another women’s rights organization in Lebanon, to campaign for women’s rights, equality in family law and custody and against forced and early marriages.
For many of her colleagues, she came to “symbolize a Lebanese mother’s fight against suppression and misogyny of all sorts," using “her personal experiences and her individual journey of empowerment to give hope to others that they can be a catalyst for positive change.”- ABAAD - Resource Centre for Gender Equality, Lebanon
On October 6, 2019 Nadyn was tragically killed in a car accident on her way to protest unfair tax increases in a country already facing spiralling financial crisis. Nadyn Jouny was only 29 years old at the time of her death.
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This calendar invites us to immerse ourselves in the inspiring world of feminist artistry. Each month, as it gently unfolds, brings forth the vivid artwork of feminist and queer artists from our communities. Their creations are not mere images; they are profound narratives that resonate with the experiences of struggle, triumph, and undying courage that define our collective quest. These visual stories, bursting with color and emotion, serve to bridge distances and weave together our diverse experiences, bringing us closer in our shared missions.
This calendar is our call to you: Use it, print it, share it. Let it be a daily companion in your journey, a constant reminder of our interconnectedness and our shared visions for a better world.
Let it inspire you, as it inspires us, to keep moving forward together.
Get it in your preferred language! |
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| Português |
| عربي |
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Jaitun, commonly referred to as ‘Amma’, was committed to ensuring the reproductive rights of women and girls in India. She was particularly dedicated to advocating for those living in poverty and who are most marginalized, including Dalit and Muslim women and girls.
Jaitun was the vital force behind the case Jaitun v Janpura Maternity Home & Ors. Her perseverance for justice led to a ground-breaking judgment issued by the High Court of Delhi, holding the Indian government accountable for failing to deliver a number of its legally-binding obligations such as reproductive health care and the right to food.
Her daughter Fatema who was living under the poverty line was denied reproductive services and had to deliver her child in public, under a tree. At the time, both Jaitun and Fatema were homeless as a result of their home being demolished by the government as part of redevelopment and gentrification in New Delhi.
“The judgment has since been used by countless lawyers and activists globally, including the Former United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Right to Health, not only as a source of inspiration but as a solid springboard to further justice.” - Jameen Kaur
Jaitun has inspired many other women living in poverty to claim their rights. She passed away in 2017.
“In Jaitun’s death, we have now lost an inimitable warrior for justice, but her spirit of defiance lives on.” - Jameen Kaur
“In my 18 years as a human rights advocate, I have not met a woman that has inspired and moved my spirit in the same way Amma did. Her roaring courage; her imitable humour - we used to compare her to the Bollywood actress Hema Melini - as she would be upset we had spent so much time away from her - she would say, with a twinkle in her eye, ‘You have forgotten Amma, Amma is not speaking to you’ and then with great dramatics turn her back, only to turn around laughing and stretching her arms out for a hug. Her kindness and ultimately her love and joy for love and the right for all of us to live with dignity. I miss her terribly.” - Jameen Kaur
كل ثلاث إلى أربع سنوات، تستضيف جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية حدثها الدولي الرئيسي. إنه أكبر حدث في العالم يركز بكل طاقته على الحركات النسوية والعدالة الجندرية بكل تنوعها. إنه تجمع عالمي للناشطين/ات النسويين/ات والحركات المتحالفة والباحثين/ات والممولين/ات وصانعي/ات السياسات. ويتنقل المنتدى بين مناطق وبلدان مختلفة في الجنوب العالمي.
Barbara Allimadi was a political and human rights activist from Uganda. In 2012, she co-organized a protest against a televised police assault of Ingrid Turinawe, an opposition politician who had her breast squeezed by a police officer.
During the protest, Barbara, along with other fellow activists stripped to their bras in front of the Central Police Station in Kampala. This came to be known as the infamous ‘bra protest’ in Uganda.
“We settled on the bra protest. We thought it would be most appropriate for what had happened. It’s not like we were saying we don’t respect ourselves. We were disgusted by what had been done.” - Barbara Allimadi, 2013 (Daily Monitor)
With a Degree in Electronics and Communications Engineering from the London Metropolitan University, Barbara was a network engineer in the United Kingdom and an avid fan of reggae music. She returned to Uganda In 2007, when her mother passed away.
In 2019, she was appointed Coordinator for International and Diaspora Affairs at the Alliance for National Transformation (ANT), a political party launched that year by an opposition leader.
“We want security of life and property, not pain, injury and even death at the hands of security forces who are meant to protect us. Most importantly, we want a stable and enabling environment where we can realize our dreams and aspirations.” - Barbara Allimadi, ANT video
Barbara passed away on 27 April 2020.
“I was so proud of my sister for many things but in particular her fearless pursuit of peace, democracy, justice and equality in Uganda. At the height of her activism she led many marches on the streets of Kampala, to police stations, and Parliament.” - Doris Allimadi, Barbara’s sister
“It is with deep sadness that we have learnt of the untimely passing of Barbara Allimadi. She has been a valiant, relentless and courageous force for the liberation movement of Uganda. Our deepest condolences to her family. She will be sorely missed.” - Akina Mama wa Afrika (tweet on 28 April 2020)
“The passing on of Barbara is so sad for us and her entire family. She dedicated herself to fighting for justice, freedom and rights of others while serving in the civil society until she recently joined us at the party.” Maj Gen Mugisha Muntu, ANT national coordinator
“A beautiful, charming, funny, charismatic and inspirational sister. My children lost their aunty. Uganda lost a brave and courageous freedom fighter. Barbara once said, ‘As long as there is still breath in you, keep working towards your dreams.’” - Doris Allimadi, Barbara’s sister
لا، ليس من الضروري أن تكون عضوًا/ة في جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية للمشاركة ولكن أعضاء/ عضوات جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية يحصلون على رسوم تسجيل مخفضة بالإضافة إلى عدد من المزايا الأخرى. تعرف/ي على المزيد حول كيفية أن تصبح عضوًا/ة في جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية.
أنتم/ن مدعوون/ات لتقديم ما يصل إلى نشاطين كمنظم/ة. لا يزال بإمكانك أن تكون شريكًا/ة في المقترحات الأخرى.
(نظرًا لأننا نقدم الطلب قبل عام تقريبًا من الحدث الفعلي.)
نعم! يطلب النموذج حاليًا إدراج مقدمي/ات المقترح حتى لو لم يتم تأكيدهم/ن بعد. نحن ندرك أنه من المحتمل أن تحدث التغييرات في غضون عام.
