The Human Rights Council (HRC) is the key intergovernmental body within the United Nations system responsible for the promotion and protection of all human rights around the globe. It holds three regular sessions a year: in March, June and September. The Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) is the secretariat for the HRC.
The HRC works by:
Debating and passing resolutions on global human rights issues and human rights situations in particular countries
Examining complaints from victims of human rights violations or activist organizations on behalf of victims of human rights violations
Appointing independent experts (known as “Special Procedures”) to review human rights violations in specific countries and examine and further global human rights issues
Engaging in discussions with experts and governments on human rights issues
Assessing the human rights records of all UN Member States every four and a half years through the Universal Periodic Review
AWID works with feminist, progressive and human rights partners to share key knowledge, convene civil society dialogues and events, and influence negotiations and outcomes of the session.
With our partners, our work will:
◾️ Monitor, track and analyze anti-rights actors, discourses and strategies and their impact on resolutions
"Sabemos que todo está en nuestra contra y hay muy pocas posibilidades de cambiar eso. Pero creemos en la intervención y creo que tenemos una oportunidad y deberíamos usarla. Es por eso que estamos haciendo todo lo que estamos haciendo. Estamos dispuestos a presionar por cosas inauditas".
Bessy Ferrera fue una defensora de los derechos humanos de las personas trans, de las trabajadoras sexuales y de las personas seropositivas en Honduras, durante toda su vida.
Bessy también fue integrante de Arcoíris, una organización que apoya a la comunidad LGBTI+. También fue una persona de referencia para la Plataforma Derechos Aquí y Ahora de Honduras, y abogó enérgicamente por la ciudadanía plena de las personas trans, y por la aprobación de una ley de identidad de género que permitiera a las personas trans cambiar su identidad de género legalmente.
"Desde principios de año [2019] la comunidad trans ha sufrido una serie de ataques, por defender, por reivindicar derechos". - Rihanna Ferrera (hermana de Bessy)
Bessy era una trabajadora sexual, y a principios de julio de 2019, fue asesinada a tiros por dos hombres mientras trabajaba en las calles de Comayagüela. Quienes la asesinaron fueron posteriormente arrestados.
Bessy es una de las muchxs defensorxs de los derechos LGBTI+ en Honduras que fueron asesinadxs por su identidad y su trabajo. Otras compañeras han sido: Cynthia Nicole, Angy Ferreira, Estefanía "Nia" Zúñiga, Gloria Carolina Hernández Vásquez, Paola Barraza, Violeta Rivas y Sherly Montoya.
El caso de Bessy es emblemático por su injusticia y por reflejar un problema mucho más amplio, que es el de la violencia sistemática a la que se enfrenta la comunidad LGBTI+ en Honduras, ya que el Estado ni garantiza los derechos que ofrece y ni brinda protección. Esto ha creado una cultura de impunidad.
A pesar de los riesgos a los que se enfrentan lxs defensorxs LGBTI+ en Honduras, continúan a diario con su trabajo para desafiar y resistir la violencia, y luchar contra el estigma y la discriminación.
"Si muero, que sea por algo bueno y no por algo inútil. No quiero morir huyendo, como unx cobarde. Si muero, quiero que la gente diga que morí luchando por lo que es mío". - integrante de Arcoíris.
Reason to join 6
Participa en el Foro Internacional de AWID - un importante encuentro feminista global—, y accede a descuentos especiales para afiliadxs de AWID y puntos de entrada para el diálogo virtual. Creado en conjunto por los movimientos feministas, el Foro es un espacio único para una discusión profunda y para dejar correr la imaginación, donde desafiamos y fortalecemos nuestros procesos organizativos, donde conectamos nuestras luchas y las realidades feministas.
Financiamento externo inclui subsídios e outras formas de financiamento de fundações filantrópicas, governos, financiadores bilaterais, multilaterais ou empresariais, e doadores individuais, tanto a nível nacional como internacional. Não inclui recursos gerados autonomamente por grupos, organizações e/ou movimentos, como, por exemplo, quotas de membres, contribuições voluntárias de colaboradores, membres e/ou apoiantes, angariações de fundos comunitários, aluguer de espaços ou venda de serviços. Para facilitar a consulta, estão incluídas no inquérito definições dos diferentes tipos de financiamento e descrições resumidas de diferentes doadores.
Yelena Grigoriyeva, que ses ami·e·s appelaient souvent Lena, était une défenseure connue des droits des personnes LGBT en Russie.
Membre de mouvements démocratiques, pacifistes et LGBT, Yelena était une féroce opposante au président Vladimir Poutine et son administration. Elle a notamment exprimé son opposition à l’annexion de la péninsule ukrainienne de la Crimée par la Russie ainsi que critiqué les mauvais traitements infligés aux détenu·e·s.
Yelena a fait part de sa bisexualité en 2019.
« Sa déclaration m’a surprise et je ne l’approuvais pas. Je lui ai dit : « Écoute, Lena, tu portes déjà une cible sur la poitrine du fait de ton activisme politique. Tu viens de t’en peindre une autre dans le dos », Olga Smirnova, compagne de lutte politique et amie.
Yelena a effectivement reçu plusieurs menaces de mort, et des proches ont déclaré que son nom figurait sur un site Web homophobe qui incitait ses visiteur·euse·s à tuer les personnes LGBT. Elle a fait part de ces menaces à la police, mais l’État russe ne l’a pas protégée.
Mais même dans une société où l’opposition politique, les activistes et les membres de la communauté LGBT, qui se battent pour leurs droits, font face à une violence croissante, Yelena continuait à défendre la justice sociale et l’égalité.
« Elle ne manquait pas une seule action militante. Et ils l’ont arrêtée plus de fois que je n’ai pu en compter », Olga Smirnova.
Yelena a été assassinée le 21 juillet 2019, à proximité de chez elle. Un suspect a été arrêté, mais certaines sources et plusieurs de ses ami·e·s et compagnes et compagnons de lutte pensent que ce suspect sert de bouc émissaire, et qu’en fait, il s’agit d’un assassinat politique ciblé.
Pour la famille et les ami·e·s de Yelena, son assassinat demeure irrésolu, bien que le suspect ait avoué.
En 2013, la Russie a passé une loi interdisant la propagation de ce qu’elle a appelé la « propagande gay ». En 2014, Human Rights Watch a publié un rapport à ce propos (en anglais et en russe).
Our values - esponsibility, Accountability, and Integrity
Responsabilité, responsabilisation et intégrité
Nous nous attachons à faire preuve de transparence, à utiliser nos ressources de manière responsable, à être équitables dans nos collaborations et à faire preuve de responsabilité et d'intégrité envers nos membres, nos partenaires, nos bailleurs de fonds et les mouvements avec lesquels nous travaillons. Nous nous engageons à réfléchir sur nos expériences, à partager ouvertement nos connaissances et à nous efforcer de modifier nos pratiques en conséquence.
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.
لغتي ليست واحدة من لغات الاستطلاع الرسمية ولدي صعوبة بتعبئته. ماذا يمكن أن أفعل؟
تلتزم جمعية حقوق المرأة في التنمية بالعدالة اللغوية ونأسف على عدم توفر الاستطلاع بلغات أخرى في الوقت الحالي. إن كنتم/ن بحاجة لدعم من مترجم/ة أو أردتم/ن تعبئة الاستطلاع بأي لغة أخرى، الرجاء الكتابة لنا عبر البريد الالكتروني: witm@awid.org
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.
Join the Feminist Realities journey (Forum page)
Join the Feminist Realities journey
The AWID Forum is just one stop in the Feminist Realities journey. Let’s travel this path together and explore our power in action!
