In September 2016, the 13th AWID international Forum brought together in Brazil over 1800 feminists and women’s rights advocates in a spirit of resistance and resilience.
This section highlights the gains, learnings and resources that came out of our rich conversations. We invite you to explore, share and comment!
What has happened since 2016?
One of the key takeaways from the 2016 Forum was the need to broaden and deepen our cross-movement work to address rising fascisms, fundamentalisms, corporate greed and climate change.
With this in mind, we have been working with multiple allies to grow these seeds of resistance:
Movements can also benefit from new methodologies on Visioning Feminist Futures (Coming up soon!)
And through our next strategic plan and Forum process, we are committed to keep developing ideas and deepen the learnings ignited at the 2016 Forum.
What happens now?
The world is a much different place than it was a year ago, and it will continue to change.
The next AWID Forum will take place in the Asia Pacific region (exact location and dates to be announced in 2018).
We look forward to you joining us!
About the AWID Forum
AWID Forums started in 1983, in Washington DC. Since then, the event has grown to become many things to many peoples: an iterative process of sharpening our analyses, vision and actions; a watershed moment that reinvigorates participants’ feminisms and energizes their organizing; and a political home for women human rights defenders to find sanctuary and solidarity.
« Après
Après l’amour la première fois,
Nos corps et nos esprits nus
Une galerie des glaces,
Complètement désarmés, absolument fragiles,
Nous nous couchons dans les bras de l’autre
Respirant attentivement,
Avec la crainte de briser
Ces figurines en cristal. » - Fahmida Riaz
Fahmida Riaz a brisé les tabous sociaux en écrivant sur le désir des femmes dans ses poèmes, créant des récits alternatifs à propos du corps des femmes et de leur sexualité, et établissant de nouveaux standards dans la littérature urdu.
Son travail s’est confronté à de sévères critiques de la part des conservateurs, qui l’ont accusée d’utiliser des expressions érotiques et « pornographiques » dans son langage poétique.
Fahmida a finalement été mise sur liste noire et accusée de sédition en vertu de l’article 124A du Code pénal pakistanais sous la dictature de Zia-ul-Haq. Forcée à l’exil en 1981, elle a passé presque sept ans en Inde avant de retourner au Pakistan.
Dans la préface de « Badan Dareeda » (Un corps ravagé), un recueil de poèmes publié en 1974, elle écrit :
Si, en effet, je suis forcée à me tenir aujourd’hui devant ce maqtal et me confronte à la potence, je dois y faire face, la tête haute. Mes poèmes sont la trace d’une tête mutilée : des sons émanant même lorsque suspendue par des cordes… Un corps ravagé a pris la forme de razmia, ou d’un son de rupture. Et si cette rupture est effectivement choquante pour les gens, c’est que la poète a atteint son intention : elle a réussi à la perturber. (traduction de l’urdu vers l’anglais par Asad Alvi)
La splendeur de Fahmida résidait dans sa défiance de toute logique ou toute catégorie particulière de genre, nation, religion ou culture. Elle refusait d’être mise dans le rôle d’une « femme poète », brisant les définitions traditionnelles de la poésie féminine, des concepts et des thématiques (variant entre conscience politique, corps, culture, désir, religion, foyer), et renversant les inhibitions assignées à son genre.
« Il faut que vous compreniez que la culture ne peut avoir d’essence. Les cultures changent, circulent entre elles, formant de nouvelles cultures. La culture est née de cette façon. Il n’y a pas de conflits de cultures. »
Fahmida a écrit plus de 15 livres de poésie et de fiction, dont son poème ‘Taaziyati Qaraardaaden’ («Résolutions de condoléances» en anglais) qui pourrait servir d'hommage approprié à sa vie et à son héritage et de collection de poèmes (Apna Jurm To Saabit He «Mon crime est prouvé») publié en 1988 durant son exil.
Fahmida Riaz est née à Meerut, en Inde, le 28 juillet 1946 et est décédée le 21 novembre 2018 à Lahore, au Pakistan.
My Queer Ramadan
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
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.
Sí, es absolutamente confidencial. Tus respuestas se borrarán al término del procesamiento y el análisis de los datos, y se utilizarán únicamente a los fines de la investigación. Los datos NUNCA se compartirán fuera de AWID y solo los procesarán el personal y consultorxs de AWID abocadxs al proyecto ¿Dónde está el dinero?
Damos prioridad a tu privacidad y anonimato. Los detalles de nuestra política de privacidad se encuentran disponibles aquí.
Sylvia Rivera was a civil rights activist, a transvestite and sex worker.
Known as the New York Drag queen of color, Silvia was fierce and tireless in her advocacy, in defense of those who were marginalized and excluded as the “gay rights” movement mainstreamed in the United States in the early 1970’s.
In a well-known speech on Christopher Street Day in 1973, Sylvia, shouted through a crowd of LGBT community members:
“You all tell me, go and hide my tail between my legs.
I will no longer put up with this shit.
I have been beaten.
I have had my nose broken.
I have been thrown in jail.
I have lost my job.
I have lost my apartment.
For gay liberation, and you all treat me this way?
What the fuck’s wrong with you all?
Think about that!”
In 1969, at age 17, Silvia took part in the iconic Stonewall Riots by allegedly throwing the second Molotov cocktail to protest the police raid of the gay bar in Manhattan. She continued to be a central figure in the uprisings that followed, organizing rallies and fighting back police brutality.
In 1970, Sylvia worked together with Marsha P. Johnson to establish Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (S.T.A.R.), a political collective and organisation that would set up projects of mutual support for trans people living on the streets, those struggling with drug addiction and in prisons and in particular for trans people of color and those living in poverty.
Defiant of labels, Silvia lived life in a way that challenged people in the gay liberation movement to think differently. She said:
“I left home at age 10 in 1961. I hustled on 42nd Street. The early 60s was not a good time for drag queens, effeminate boys or boys that wore makeup like we did. Back then we were beat up by the police, by everybody. I didn't really come out as a drag queen until the late 60s. when drag queens were arrested, what degradation there was. I remember the first time I got arrested, I wasn't even in full drag. I was walking down the street and the cops just snatched me. People now want to call me a lesbian because I'm with Julia, and I say, "No. I'm just me. I'm not a lesbian." I'm tired of being labeled. I don't even like the label transgender. I'm tired of living with labels. I just want to be who I am. I am Sylvia Rivera.
Through her activism and courage, Sylvia offered a mirror that reflected all that was wrong within society, but also the possibility of transformation. Sylvia was born in 1951 and passed away in 2002.
Principes d'engagement
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.
Cynthia Cockburn fue una socióloga feminista, escritora, académica, fotógrafa y activista por la paz.
Estudió los aspectos relacionados con el género en la violencia y el conflicto e hizo importantes contribuciones al movimiento por la paz gracias a sus investigaciones sobre masculinidad y violencia, así como gracias a su activismo local e internacional.
Cynthia aportó un análisis feminista potente sobre la militarización y la guerra, y fue una de las académicas cuyos escritos y estudios demostraron claramente cómo la violencia de género desempeñaba un papel clave en la perpetuación de la guerra. Al trabajar en estrecha colaboración con activistas por la paz en distintos países en conflicto, sus conclusiones abarcaron diversos contextos, entre ellos: Irlanda del Norte, Bosnia y Herzegovina, Israel/Palestina, Corea del Sur, Japón, España y el Reino Unido. También logró incluir en sus investigaciones y escritos académicos una interpretación sobre cómo la violencia se experimenta como un continuo de tiempo y escala y cómo se percibe de forma muy diferente cuando se analiza desde la perspectiva de género.
En sus propias palabras: "El género nos ayuda a ver la continuidad, la conexión entre los casos de violencia".
Cynthia conectó su trabajo de investigación con el activismo que sostuvo a nivel local e internacional con los movimientos por la desmilitarización, el desarme y la paz. Ayudó a iniciar el campamento de paz de las mujeres de Greenham Common, que defendía el desarme nuclear universal en Gran Bretaña, y formó parte también de la creación del capítulo londinense de Women in Black [Mujeres de Negro]. A lo largo de las décadas, Cynthia organizó y participó en vigilias semanales locales y en el coro político Raised Voices [Elevar las Voces], para el que, además de cantar, escribió varias letras de canciones que forman parte de su repertorio.
Su activismo la llevó a apoyar también el trabajo de la Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom [Liga Internacional de Mujeres por la Paz y la Libertad] (WILPF, por su siglas en inglés), el European Forum of Socialist Feminists [Foro Europeo de Feministas Socialistas] y Women Against Fundamentalism [Mujeres contra el Fundamentalismo].
"Cynthia arrojó claridad feminista, tejió comunidades feministas, cantó canciones de paz, escuchó, escuchó, escuchó, observó los pájaros - y detuvo el tráfico. Siempre estaré agradecida y en deuda con ella, la otra 'Cynthia'" - Cynthia Enloe.
Cynthia nació en julio de 1934 y falleció en septiembre de 2019, a la edad de 85 años.
Colectivo Morivivi
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.
“Cacibajagua” 2017, Mural Project. Jiangxi, China“Cacibajagua” 2017, Mural Project. Jiangxi, China“Paz para la Mujer” 2015, collaboration with Coordinadora Paz para la Mujer Organization. Santurce, Puerto Rico
“Paz para la Mujer” 2015, collaboration with Coordinadora Paz para la Mujer Organization. Santurce, Puerto Rico
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
Moriviví is a collective of young female artists, working on public art since April 2013. Based in Puerto Rico, we’ve gained recognition for the creation of murals and community led arts.
The group started out in local Urban Art Festivals. As our work became more popular, organizations and community leadership started to reach out to us. We began as eight high schoolers who wanted to paint a mural together. However, in eight years of hard work, we’ve faced many challenges. Now we are in a period of transition. During this following year, we aim to restructure the collective internally. Our goal is to open new opportunities for collaborators and back-up our decision making process with a new evaluation system. In the long run, we aspire to become an alternative school of art practice for those interested in immersing themselves in community art production.
Become a member (homepage block) - French
Pourquoi rejoindre l’AWID ?
Oeuvrez pour le renforcement des mouvements pour les droits des femmes et contribuez aux transformations en faveur des droits humains.
Основываясь на 20-летней истории привлечения более объемного и качественного финансирования для достижения социальных изменений под руководством феминисток(-ов), AWID приглашает вас принять участие в новом опросе:
