Category Archives: Listening 2 Lesbians

Lesbian voices about lesbian lives

When a lesbian dies: the search for justice for Nicole Saavedra and DJ Anna Cook

DJ Anna Cook Nicole Saavedra

We talk about lesbicide when a lesbian is killed for being so. In our society, loving a woman as a woman is one of the greatest insults to masculinity shown by corrective sexual harassment, rapes that serve as a “warning”, and coexistence with mandatory heterosexuality that repeatedly urges you to stay in the closet. Visibility is the political point that links them: Nicole and Anna were visible lesbians, and they pose the question: did they die because they were lesbians?

Francisca Millán is a lawyer specialising in human rights and gender. Partner of the AML study, which is dedicated exclusively to the defence of women in cases involving gender violence. Her project offers a feminist perspective to realise the right of access to justice. Millán affirms that women are violated in the Chilean legal system. In this scenario, being a lesbian is a direct and very specific affront.

“Lesbianism, from hegemonic masculinity, is a resistance to the social order, because I do not submit to heteropatriarchal logic, I am out of it, and I am not willing to occupy that role,” Millán explains.

Crimes that directly affect lesbians for being lesbian are lesbicide (murder of a lesbian)  and corrective rape (rape of a lesbian in order to “correct her”). They do not exist as such in the Chilean penal code, but, according to Millán, mixing the base crimes with the Zamudio Law, they can be put forward as hate crimes.

“Crimes of this nature express a lot of power, and show that there is an exercise of subjugation with respect to others. That is quite common in the case of lesbians: what more obvious way to subjugate a woman who is a lesbian than to force her to practice oral sex, ”says the lawyer.

Carmina Vásquez is a lawyer. She is part of the Lesbofeminist Network, an articulator of organizations whose purpose is to form support networks for lesbians. Their venture, Chueca Bar, will open soon – a lesbian bar that wants to be a safe space within a very hostile city.

“This has been a tough year. There is the case of Carolina Torres (beaten in Pudahuel), we recently learned about violent girls in the Forest Park. That scares you, it happens at five in the afternoon, and it happens in the places where we meet,” she explains. For her, there is a social punishment for being a lesbian, coupled with being a woman. “These crimes of lesbo-hate go hand in hand with sexual issues under the premise of the “I am going to teach you” type. We talk about corrective violations, which also target a specific type of lesbian: the truck [butch], who defies heteronormal roles”, she says.

The first recorded and investigated lesophobia crime is that of Mónica Briones, beaten to death in one of the corners of Plaza Italia in 1984. The case accelerated the formation of the first lesbian feminist collective in Chile, Ayuquelén, which existed for 15 years.

“In the year 84, when they killed Monica, it lead to our broad understanding of what happened to us all, the discrimination we were living. But there is no current reflection on hate crimes as they are understood today, ”says Cecilia Riquelme, one of its founders, who last Saturday October 12 participated in the Day of Lesbian Rebellion, in Valparaíso.(Translated)

Hablamos de lesbicidio cuando se mata a una lesbiana por serlo. En nuestra sociedad, amar a una mujer, siendo mujer, es una de las afrentas que más hiere a la masculinidad. Desde un acoso sexual correctivo, hasta violaciones que sirven de “advertencia”, y la convivencia con la heterosexualidad obligatoria que, muchas veces, te insta a permanecer en “el clóset”. De ahí que la visibilidad sea la herramienta política que las vincula: Nicole y Anna eran lesbianas “visibles”, y plantean la pregunta: ¿murieron por ser lesbianas?

Francisca Millán es abogada especializada en DD.HH. y género. Socia del estudio AML, que se dedica exclusivamente a la defensa de mujeres en causas que involucran violencia de género. Su proyecto ofrece una perspectiva feminista para materializar el derecho del acceso a la justicia. Millán afirma que las mujeres son vulneradas en el sistema legal chileno. En este escenario, ser lesbiana es una afrenta directa y muy específica.

“El lesbianismo, desde la masculinidad hegemónica, es una revelación al orden social, porque yo no me someto a las lógicas heteropatriarcales, estoy por fuera de ello, y no estoy dispuesta a ocupar esos roles”, explica Millán.

Delitos que afectarían directamente a lesbianas por el hecho de serlo sería el lesbicidio, el asesinato a una lesbiana, y la violación correctiva, la violación a una lesbiana con el fin de “corregirla”. No existen como tales en el código penal chileno, pero, de acuerdo a Millán, mezclando los delitos base con la Ley Zamudio, pueden relevarse los motores de odio.

“Los delitos de esta naturaleza tienen mucha expresión de poder, y demuestran que existe este ejercicio de sometimiento respecto de otras. Eso es algo bastante común en el caso de las mujeres lesbianas: qué forma más evidente de someter a una mujer que es lesbiana que obligarla a practicar sexo oral”, comenta la abogada.

Carmina Vásquez es abogada. Integra la Red lesbofeminista, una articuladora de organizaciones cuyo fin es formar redes de apoyo para las lesbianas. Su emprendimiento, Chueca Bar, abrirá pronto, un bar para lesbianas que quiere ser un espacio seguro dentro de una ciudad muy hostil.

“Este ha sido un año duro. Está el caso de Carolina Torres (golpeada en Pudahuel), hace poco supimos de chicas violentadas en el Parque Forestal. Eso te da miedo, pasa a las cinco de la tarde, y pasa en los lugares donde nos reunimos”, explica. Para ella, existe un castigo social al ser lesbiana, sumado al de ser mujer. “Estos crímenes de lesbo-odio van aparejados a temas sexuales bajo la premisa del yo te voy a enseñar. Hablamos de violaciones correctivas, que además se dirigen a un tipo específico de lesbiana: la camiona, que se sale de la heteronorma”, dice.

El primer crimen de lesbofobia registrado e investigado es el de Mónica Briones, asesinada a golpes en una de las esquinas de Plaza Italia el año 1984. El caso aceleró la formación de la primera colectiva lesbofeminista en Chile, Ayuquelén, que funcionó durante 15 años.

“El año 84, cuando matan a Mónica, se generó una reflexión amplia respecto de lo que nos pasaba a todas, la discriminación que vivíamos. Pero no hay una reflexión puntual sobre los crímenes de odio como son entendidos hoy en día”, dice Cecilia Riquelme, una de sus fundadoras, que el pasado sábado 12 de octubre participó del Día de las rebeldías lésbicas, en Valparaíso.
(Original)

Excerpts from Romina Reyes’ article.
Continue reading at: https://www.theclinic.cl/2019/10/16/cuando-muere-una-lesbiana-la-busqueda-de-justicia-para-nicole-saavedra-y-anna-cook/ (Source)

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International Lesbian Day: Chocolate Remix – “That a lesbian woman sings reggaeton is already a political fact in itself”

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The Argentine artist Romina Bernardo calls herself, when she records and when she goes on stage, Chocolate Remix. She is mainly reggaeton, and is a lesbian, so that in her style she has been awarded an obvious label, that of ‘lesbian reggaeton’.

Her musical proposal combines fun, subversion and activism with great originality. Chocolate Remix is ​​a proud fighter who not only seeks to make you dance and pound. “History has always been commanded by heterosexual men, and those of us who have been segregated have to formulate our strategies to empower ourselves and create a more just society ,” she says.

(Translated)

La artista argentina Romina Bernardo se hace llamar, cuando graba y cuando se sube al escenario, Chocolate Remix. Hace principalmente reguetón, y es lesbiana, de manera que a su estilo se le ha adjudicado una etiqueta obvia, la de ‘reguetón lésbico’.

Su propuesta musical une diversión, subversión y activismo con gran originalidad. Chocolate Remix es una luchadora orgullosa que no solo busca hacerte bailar y perrear. “La historia siempre ha estado comandada por varones heterosexuales, y quienes hemos quedado segregados tenemos que formular nuestras estrategias para empoderarnos y crear una sociedad más justa”, afirma.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://shangay.com/2019/07/13/chocolate-remix-mujer-lesbiana-regueton-argentina-entrevista/ (source)

 

International Lesbian Day: “A love in rebellion” recounts the first lesbian movement in Mexico

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* Art activist and curator Yan María Castro shares her experience as leader of the Oikabeth group

In order to demand respect and recognition from society and the authorities, at the end of the 70s, Oikabeth, an autonomous political group of lesbians, was created.

It was the first feminist lesbian movement in Mexico, commanded by painter, manager and art curator Yan María Yaoyólotl Castro, who tired of abuse, decided to raise her voice, defend her sexual preferences and fight for her rights.

Her story and that of other women was embodied through the documentary short film A love in rebellion, which under the direction of Tania Claudia Castillo, is part of the Continuous Program of the Cuórum Morelia festival. In addition, he won the Silver Camelina in the third Sexual Diversity Program + Morelia.

For 14 minutes, Yan María remembers the beginning of the group, how she organized with other women to demonstrate in the streets of the Mexican capital. It also reveals her transformation from girl to teenager and adult. When she had to recognize herself as a lesbian with her relatives and in return she got a deep rejection.

(Translated)

*La activista y curadora de arte Yan María Castro comparte su experiencia como líder del grupo Oikabeth

Con el propósito de exigir respeto y reconocimiento por parte de la sociedad y las autoridades, a finales de la década de los 70 se creó Oikabeth, un grupo político autónomo de lesbianas.

Fue el primer movimiento lésbico feminista en México, comandado por la pintora, gestora y curadora de arte Yan María Yaoyólotl Castro, quien cansada del maltrato, decidió levantar la voz, defender sus preferencias sexuales y luchar por sus derechos.

Su historia y la de otras mujeres quedó plasmada a través del cortometraje documental Un amor en rebeldía, que bajo la dirección de Tania Claudia Castillo, forma parte del Programa Continuo del festival Cuórum Morelia. Además, ganó la Camelina de plata en el tercer Programa de Diversidad Sexual + Morelia.

Durante 14 minutos, Yan María recuerda el inicio del grupo, de cómo se organizó con otras mujeres para manifestarse en las calles de la capital mexicana. También revela su transformación de niña a adolescente y adulta. De cuando tuvo que reconocerse lesbiana con sus familiares y a cambio obtuvo un rechazo profundo.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://www.20minutos.com.mx/
noticia/839893/0/un-amor-rebeldia-relata-primer-movimiento-lesbico-mexico/
(source)

International Lesbian Day: Stormé DeLarverie – The Lesbian Spark in the Stonewall Uprising

July 31, 2018

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Next year will be the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising. In the early morning hours, gay men and lesbians fought back against the police raid of the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. After that event, which began in the early morning of June 28,1969, Gay Liberation had joined the lexicon of Women’s Liberation, Black Liberation, and Chicano Liberation.

There are phenomenal lives and stories connected to that night that should not be forgotten or erased. One is that of Stormé DeLarverie—who had been fighting back all her life and fought back that night.

Stormé was involved in forming the Stonewall Veterans Association and was later elected vice president. They often had panels of speakers, and over the decades she was always quick to remind later generations what it was like before Stonewall: Lesbians and gay men could receive a $70 fine for “looking at someone with desire.”

You could be arrested for not wearing a certain number of “gender appropriate articles of clothing.” This meant that lesbians who might be wearing a three-piece suit had to be able to show they were also wearing a bra and stockings. If not, they could be thrown in jail.

Stormé’s recollection 

Stormé recalled her part in the uprising at a public, videotaped event sponsored by the Stonewall Veterans Association. She started at the beginning: “The cops were parading patrons out of the front door of the Stonewall at about 2 a.m. in the morning. I saw this one boy being taken out by three cops, only one in uniform. Three to one.  I told my pals, ‘I know him! That is Williamson, my friend Sonia Jane’s friend.

“Williamson briefly broke loose but they grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him right down on the cement street. One of them did a drop kick on him. Another cop senselessly hit him from the back. Right after that a cop said to me, ‘move faggot,’ thinking I was a gay guy. I said, ‘I will not and don’t you dare touch me.’ With that the cop shoved me, and I instinctively punched him in the face.”

Four officers then attacked her and handcuffed her in response. When she pointed out that she was cuffed too tightly, one officer hit her head with a billy club. As she was bleeding from the head, she turned to the crowd and shouted, “Why don’t you guys do something?” After a long struggle, she was dragged towards a police van, and that was when everything exploded. Many who were there recall her call to arms.

Stormé was always clear: “It was a rebellion, it was an uprising, it was civil disobedience. It was no damn riot.”

Of course she was correct. Stonewall was not a one-night riot. Thousands of gays and lesbians rose up for six nights. There was organizing during the day and returning to the Stonewall Inn every night for six nights. Out of the uprising grew two activist organizations, the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activist Alliance, and three gay and lesbian newspapers.

Erasing Black lesbians

Claire Heuchan wrote an article for AfterEllen.com entitled, “We Need to Talk about Misogyny and the LGBT Community’s Erasure of Black Lesbian History.” (See: http://www.afterellen.com/general-news/561237-we-need-to-talk-about-misogyny-and-the-lgbt-communitys-erasure-of-black-lesbian-history )

Heuchan focused in the article on the erasing of Stormé from some of the “official” histories of Stonewall. She was cut from the 1995 and the 2015 “Stonewall” films as well as from many histories of that period—and most recently in a press release by the National Center For Lesbian Rights.

Heuchan pointed out, “Lesbian history is hard to find, Black representation, female representation, and lesbian representation are not always straightforward to find, especially when you are looking for all three at once. Stormé, in all her Black butch magnificence, put herself at extraordinary risk to fight injustice and she deserves to be remembered for it. It was Stormé who led the resistance of homophobic police brutality at the Stonewall Inn.”

Continue reading: https://socialistaction.org/2018/07/31/storme-delarverie-the-lesbian-spark-in-the-stonewall-uprising/ (source)

International Lesbian Day: 5 Lesbian Couples who Joined Football

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What united football that does not separate man. The saying was like that, right? Well, today we are going to talk about 10 incredible lesbian athletes who met in the field and ended up teaming up together. These are five lesbian couples that joined football.

(Translated)

Lo que unió el fútbol que no lo separe el hombre. ¿El dicho era así no? Pues hoy vamos a hablar de 10 increíbles deportistas lesbianas que se conocieron en el campo y terminaron formando equipo juntas. Estas son cinco parejas lésbicas que unió el fútbol.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://lesbicanarias.es/2019/05/07/5-parejas-lesbicas-que-unio-el-futbol/ (source)

International Lesbian Day: Monica Briones – The woman killed in dictatorship, that inspires the Day of Lesbian Visibility

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The brutal murder of the 34-year-old painter and sculptor became a mystery to justice. In parallel, for organizations the figure of the artist has become a source of inspiration to boost the fight for lesbian rights. More than three decades after the crime, activism accuses that the hatred and injustices that haunted the death of women remain as present as before. This July 9, the lesbian feminist groups will make a request to the Monuments Council to install a memorial in the place where she was killed.

Bold, talented and bold, they are the adjectives that are most repeated when asked about Monica Briones Puccio. “A woman ahead of her time,” they will say here and there. Owner of an outstanding talent for painting and sculpture, an innate artist who became one of the most relevant figures for the lesbian movement in Chile.

Monica was a proud lesbian, with a masculine gender expression and decided to face her sexual orientation at a very young age, opening the door – possibly – to the greatest violence and oppressions she would live later, even in the family. But the truth is that in 1984, in full dictatorship, at 34, Monica lived life with passion and was the protagonist of intense love relationships that would mark her.

Two days after her birthday, on July 9, while she was retiring from the last of several celebrations, at the exit of the Jaque Mate bar and while waiting for the bus to return home, the painter was beaten to death. His attacker kicked her on the ground until her skull fractured.

The story of Monica Briones has inspired television reports, a chronicle of Pedro Lemebel, plays and even a movie. Thus, more than three decades after his death, the artist’s memory has remained in force in the memory of those who have empathized with the case.

“A creative and different woman,” titled a magazine of the time with a small profile of the artist. There she confessed, probably to an insistent journalist: “I have not married because it would take time from my art.”

In that same article he sentenced that he was not afraid of death, because he knew he would die young.

(Translated)

El brutal homicidio de la pintora y escultora de 34 años se convirtió en un misterio para la justicia. En paralelo, para las organizaciones la figura de la artista se ha transformado en una fuente de inspiración para impulsar la lucha por los derechos de las lesbianas. A más de tres décadas del crimen, el activismo acusa que el odio y las injusticias que rondaron la muerte de la mujer siguen tan presentes como antes. Este 9 de julio, las agrupaciones lesbofeministas harán ingreso de una solicitud al Consejo de Monumentos para instalar un memorial en el lugar donde fue asesinada. Esta es su historia.

Atrevida, talentosa y audaz, son los adjetivos que más se repiten al preguntar por Mónica Briones Puccio. “Una mujer adelantada a su época”, dirán aquí y allá. Dueña de un talento descollante para la pintura y la escultura, una artista innata que se convirtió en una de las figuras más relevantes para el movimiento lésbico en Chile.

Mónica era una lesbiana orgullosa, con expresión de género masculina y decidió enfrentar su orientación sexual a muy corta edad, abriendo la puerta -posiblemente- a las mayores violencias y opresiones que viviría después, incluso en el seno familiar. Pero lo cierto es que en 1984, en plena dictadura, a sus 34 años, Mónica vivía la vida con pasión y era protagonista de intensas relaciones amorosas que la marcarían.

A dos días de su cumpleaños, un 9 de julio, mientras se retiraba de la última de varias celebraciones, a la salida del bar Jaque Mate y mientras esperaba la micro para volver a su casa, la pintora fue golpeada hasta la muerte. Su atacante la pateó en el suelo hasta que su cráneo se fracturó.

La historia de Mónica Briones ha inspirado reportajes televisivos, una crónica de Pedro Lemebel, obras de teatro y hasta una película. Así, a más de tres décadas de su muerte, el recuerdo de la artista se ha mantenido vigente en la memoria de quienes han empatizado con el caso.

“Una mujer creativa y distinta”, tituló una revista de la época con una pequeña semblanza de la artista. Allí ella confesó, probablemente a un insistente periodista: “No me he casado porque quitaría tiempo a mi arte”.

En ese mismo artículo sentenció que no le temía a la muerte, porque sabía que moriría joven.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://www.eldesconcierto.cl/2019/07/09/el-recuerdo-insistente-de-monica-briones-la-mujer-asesinada-en-dictadura-que-inspira-el-dia-de-la-visibilidad-lesbica/ (source)

 

 

International Lesbian Day: Martha Shelley, the Lesbian who Proposed the Protest March of Stonewall

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Martha Shelley, was the one who proposed the protest march of Stonewall, although everyone remembers Harvey Milk. Well, this lesbian activist not only promoted the protest that night in the Greenwich Village, but has been and is a very struggling feminist.

Who is Martha Shelley?

If you still don’t know our heroine, you should know that Shelley was born in 1943, in Brooklyn. From a young age she participated in movements protesting human rights, so much so that she was watched by the FBI. In fact, her real name is Martha Altman, but she had to choose Shelley’s alias to go unnoticed.

Her participation as a social activist begins with the first protest against the Vietnam War. Subsequently, she joined the association DOB (Daughters of Bilitis), the Daughters of Bilitis. This association was the first lesbian civil and political rights organization, of which Shelley was president.

The women who belonged to the DOB were constantly monitored by the authorities, hence Martha Altman, to be called Martha Shelley. The continuous raids, harassment, and police harassment was a constant while the organization lasted. Founded in San Francisco in 1955, it lasted 14 more years against wind and tide.

But let’s go back to Martha Shelley and her work as an activist for LGTBI rights. This female fighter also joined the Student Homophile League, the first gay student organization, founded in 1966 at Columbia University.

Subsequently, she was one of the four people who founded the [New York] Gay Liberation Front. The first of the GLF was that of New York, which was founded just after Stonewall in 1969. There are different locations in the US, United Kingdom and Canada, but Shelley participated in the foundation of the first organization.

(Translated)

Martha Shelley, fue quien propuso la marcha protesta de Stonewall, aunque todo el mundo recuerda a Harvey Milk. Pues bien, esta activista lesbiana no solo promovió la protesta aquella noche en el Greenwich Village, sino que ha sido y es una feminista muy luchadora.

¿Quién es Martha Shelley?

Si todavía no conoces a nuestra heroína, debes saber que Shelley nació en 1943, en Brooklyn. Desde muy joven participó en movimientos protesta por los derechos humanos, tanto, que estuvo vigilada por el FBI. De hecho, su nombre real es Martha Altman, pero tuvo que escoger el alias de Shelley para pasar desapercibida.

Su participación como activista social, comienza con la primera protesta contra la guerra de Vietnam. Posteriormente, entró a formar parte de la asociación DOB (Daughters of Bilitis), las Hijas de Bilitis. Esta asociación, fue la primera organización lésbica de derechos civiles y políticos, de la cual Shelley fue presidenta.

Las mujeres que pertenecían a la DOB eran vigiladas constantemente por las autoridades, de ahí que Martha Altman, pasara a llamarse Martha Shelley. Las continuas redadas, el hostigamiento, y el acoso policial fue una constante mientras duró la organización. Fundada en San Francisco en 1955, duró 14 años más contra viento y marea.

Pero volvamos a Martha Shelley y su labor como activista por los derechos LGTBI. Esta mujer luchadora se unió también al Student Homophile League, primera organización de estudiantes gais, fundada en 1966 en la Universidad de Columbia.

Posteriormente, fue una de las cuatro personas que fundaron el Frente de Liberación Gay de [New York]. El primero de los GLF fue el de Nueva York, que se fundó justo después de Stonewall en 1969. Hay distintas sedes en EEUU, Reino Unido y Canadá, pero Shelley participó en la fundación de la primera organización.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://www.lesbiana.es/2019/07/06/no-fue-harvey-milk-fue-martha-shelley/ (source)

International Lesbian Day: Instagram Series, “Rebu”, Resignifies Lesbian Woman Issues

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Pernambuco’s video artist Mayara Santana tells her experiences in the documentary designed for the IGTV format.

Gone are the days when calling a lesbian woman “dyke” was a curse. After years of prejudice and aggression, they re-signified the term and now “romp” has become a cry for freedom. A compliment of the most valuable, which, by the way, says a lot about pride. A lesbian woman carries machismo and homophobia in the same package (if she is black, she also has racism in the combo). And these are still obstacles that make it impossible to support some initiatives. As existence gains a new contour, it also innovates in the way it is counted.

Designer and video maker Mayara Santana, 27, found this gap. And from her personal experience, she made the “Rebu – Egolombra of an almost sorry shoe” web series, designed for the Instagram IGTV format. The documentary series comes from a specific place of speech: Mayara’s reality as a black and lesbian woman in Recife.

(Translated)

A videasta pernambucana Mayara Santana conta as suas experiências no documentário pensado para o formato de IGTV

Já se foi o tempo em que chamar uma mulher lésbica de “sapatão” era um xingamento. Depois de anos de preconceitos e agressões, elas ressignificaram o termo e, agora, “sapatão” virou grito de liberdade. Um elogio dos mais valiosos, o que, aliás, diz muito sobre orgulho. Uma mulher lésbica carrega o machismo e a homofobia no mesmo pacote (se for negra, também tem racismo no combo). E essas ainda são travas que impossibilitam apoio a algumas iniciativas. Ao passao que a existência ganha novo contorno, também se inova no jeito de contá-la.

A designer e videasta Mayara Santana, de 27 anos, encontrou esta lacuna. E fez, a partir da sua experiência pessoal, a websérie “Rebu – Egolombra de uma sapatão quase arrependida”, pensada para o formato de IGTV do Instagram. A série documental vem de um lugar de fala específico: a realidade de Mayara enquanto mulher negra e lésbica no Recife.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://www.folhape.com.br/diversao
/diversao/series/2019/07/06/NWS,
109803,71,539,DIVERSAO,2330-REBU-SERIE-PARA-INSTAGRAM-RESSIGNIFICA-QUESTOES-MULHER-LESBICA.aspx
(source)

International Lesbian Day: Tribute to Barbara Hammer – “History Lessons” and the History of Cinema

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On the 16th [of March], at the tender age of 79, the world lost Barbara Hammer, one of the most important American filmmakers of the last century. If at the beginning of her career her work was seen as marginal, the same cannot be said about today. Over time, recognition of her work has grown and evidence of her current status of reference is her participation in the films Carolee, Barbara and Gunvor (2018) by Lynne Sachs and Vever (2018), a curious triangulation of Hammer’s works, Maya Deren and Deborah Stratman, both being perfect illustrations of her influence on the generations of filmmakers who followed her. Barbara Hammer was one of the first and most prominent voices to actively bring lesbianism to the movies with films like Dyketactics.(1974) or Sisters! (1974), thus changing the history of cinema to places where she had rarely been. The undervaluation of this filmmaker’s work, confining its relevance to the falsely separated universe of queer cinema does not do her justice; if anything, the cultural balkanization that this attitude shows – it is a discreet counterpart of the buzzword “I have nothing against homosexuals as long as it is not in front of me!” – tells us how their struggle persists.

Hammer herself realized the need to rewrite history to accommodate the perspectives of identity groups hitherto neglected by male, white, and heterosexual dominance, and put this rewriting into practice in her 2000 feature film, History Lessons . Consisting almost entirely of archival images, the film aims to attack the narrative that has always and, in the case of cinema, since its invention, tried to hide lesbianism from the public eye, refocusing the images to focus on these women’s perspective – paraphrasing Hannah Gadsby in Nanette, Picasso was not enough to open the culture to other perspectives. The anachronism of image organization, which mixes everything from 1940s magazines to 1960s pornographic films, reveals a stagnant condemnation of lesbians and women in general. However, History Lessons is equally celebratory of each moment of emancipation and even shows some sense of humor.

(Translated)

No passado dia 16, à tenra idade de 79 anos, o mundo perdeu Barbara Hammer, uma das mais importantes cineastas norte-americanas do século passado. Se no começo da sua carreira a sua obra era vista como marginal, o mesmo não pode ser dito sobre os dias de hoje. Com o tempo, o reconhecimento da sua obra foi crescendo e prova do seu estatuto de referência na atualidade é a sua participação nos filmes Carolee, Barbara and Gunvor (2018) de Lynne Sachs e Vever (2018), curiosa triangulação das obras de Hammer, Maya Deren e Deborah Stratman, ambos sendo perfeitas ilustrações da sua influência nas gerações de cineastas que lhe seguiram. Barbara Hammer foi uma das primeiras e mais proeminentes vozes a trazer ativamente o lesbianismo para o cinema com filmes como Dyketactics (1974) ou Sisters! (1974), mudando, desta forma, a história do cinema, levando-o a sítios onde ele outrora raramente estivera. A subvalorização do trabalho desta cineasta, confinando a sua relevância ao universo falsamente apartado do cinema queer não lhe faz jus; se alguma coisa, a balcanização cultural que esta atitude evidencia – trata-se de um discreto homólogo do chavão “não tenho nada contra homossexuais, desde que não seja à minha frente!” – dá-nos a ver como a sua luta persiste.

A própria Hammer apercebeu-se da necessidade de reescrever a história a fim de albergar as perspetivas de grupos identitários até então negligenciados pelo domínio masculino, branco e heterossexual e colocou em prática esta reescritura na sua longa-metragem de 2000, History Lessons. Consistindo quase inteiramente em imagens de arquivo, o filme pretende atacar a narrativa que desde sempre e, no caso do cinema, desde a sua invenção, tentou esconder do olhar público o lesbianismo, recentrando as imagens para se focar na perspetiva destas mulheres – parafraseando Hannah Gadsby em Nanette, não bastou Picasso para abrir a cultura a outras perspetivas. O anacronismo da organização das imagens, que mistura tudo desde revistas dos anos 40 a filmes pornográficos dos anos 60, revela uma estagnação de uma atitude condenatória relativamente às lésbicas e às mulheres de um modo geral. Contudo, History Lessons é igualmente celebrativo de cada momento de emancipação e mostra até algum sentido de humor.

(Original)

Continue reading: https://www.comunidadeculturaearte.com/homenagem-a-barbara-hammer-history-lessons-e-a-historia-do-cinema/ (source)

Lesbophobia: Living as a ‘truck’ in Chile

Chile Trucks and the red zone of murder

“One is a truck before being a woman, before being a lesbian. You realise that you are not like the rest, but you do not know what you are either (…) if one is 10 years old and she doesn’t know the word lesbian, you have never seen a lesbian, you have nowhere to recognize yourself. You know what you are not, but you have no idea who you are, and you try to fit in and it doesn’t work out. You realise you end up being the truck of the group, but what is the place of the group truck?”

The appearance of the trucks is located around the 1900s as a symbol of lesbian visibility. At that time there was social tolerance for a romantic friendship between women, even married; as long as it was not shown socially. In response to this, in “the West there is an emergency of a lot of lesbians who start to wear men’s clothes and especially to dress as men from the middle up and down with a skirt.” A “different class, neither male nor female, but lesbian visible as a social and political fact” appears.

In Chile, the term truck has a link with the social class, “it speaks of the poorest lesbian, who is also more masculine, but it is because of a cultural terminology issue,” says Opazo, who adds that there are also upper-class male women , but they are not told trucks; they are called “tomboy” which is a gringa lesbian term.
(Translated)

“Una es camiona antes de ser mujer, antes de ser lesbiana, te das cuenta de que no eres como el resto, pero no sabes qué eres tampoco (…) si una tiene 10 años y no conoce la palabra lesbiana, no has visto nunca una lesbiana no tienes dónde reconocerte. Sabes lo que no eres, pero no tienes idea de lo que eres. Y tratas de encajar y no te resulta y te das cuenta y terminas siendo la camioncita del grupo, pero ¿cuál es el lugar de la camioncita del grupo?”.

La aparición de las camionas se sitúa alrededor de la década del 1.900 como símbolo de la visibilidad lésbica. Por esos tiempos existía tolerancia social a una amistad romántica entre mujeres, incluso casadas; siempre y cuando no fuese mostrada socialmente. Como respuesta a esto, en “Occidente hay una emergencia de un montón de lesbianas que empiezan a tomar la ropa masculina y sobre todo a vestirse de hombre desde la mitad para arriba y abajo con una falda”. Aparece una “clase diferente, ni varones, ni mujeres; sino lesbianas visibles como un hecho social y político”.

En Chile el término camiona tiene un vínculo con la clase social, “habla de la lesbiana más pobre, que también es más masculina, pero es por un tema de terminología cultural”, afirma Opazo, quien agrega que también hay mujeres masculinas de clase alta, pero no se les dice camionas; a ellas se les dice “tomboy” que es el término de lesbiana gringa.
(Original)

Continue reading at: https://www.24horas.cl/data/lesbofobia-que-significa-ser-camiona-en-chile-3584796 (Source)

Lesbians Are a Target of Male Violence the World Over

by Julie Bindel

ugandalgbtq-648x500.jpg

Lesbians in the U.K. have fought for and achieved legislative equality with heterosexuals. We can marry, adopt and foster children, and have next-of-kin rights with a same-sex partner. It is now illegal to fire us from our jobs or refuse goods and services on the grounds of our sexuality.

These changes also are prevalent across the majority of states in the U.S. and in numerous other countries around the world. But there are still plenty of places that have either rolled back the rights of lesbians, such as Russia under President Vladimir Putin, or, under the influence of religious fundamentalists, have introduced archaic and extremely punitive legislation affecting LGBTQ people.

Continue reading: https://www.truthdig.com/articles/lesbians-are-a-target-of-male-violence-the-world-over/ (source)

Pamela Adie: Shining a light on lesbian experiences in Nigeria

pamela.jpg

“If you haven’t come out to yourself, it’s difficult to come out to [other] people … At first, it might look like a difficult task, like something that’ll never end or something that’ll keep going on but once you get over it, you’ll see that you have your whole life ahead of you.”

Pamela Adie’s words describe her documentary, Under the Rainbow, a film that serves as a ‘visual memoir about her personal journey of coming home to herself. Walking us through her experiences, the documentary, which is the first lesbian documentary from Nigeria, points to the realities of some sexual minorities in the country, particularly black lesbians who are often left out of conversations about equal rights.

Throughout her story, for every tablespoon about pain, there are three about comfort.

Her awareness and discomfort with the fixation with pain when it comes to narratives that centre queer experiences challenged her to share how rich queer people’s experiences are, to encourage people to look beyond the pain in the moment and to increase the visibility of multidimensional stories told by black Nigerian lesbians.

Continue reading: https://mg.co.za/article/2019-08-22-00-shining-a-light-on-lesbian-experiences-in-nigeria (source)

Why are there so few lesbian bars in Paris?

Lesbians in France

By Elsa Pereira

In the capital, where there are dozens and dozens of bars and gay clubs, very few places dedicated to homosexual women keep their heads above the water. Why is the lesbian nightlife so fragile?

It’s a deficiency that is not exclusively Parisian. Even in a city like New York, famous for its vibrant gay life, the number of bars for queer women is shrinking. Last March, the Bum Bum bar closed after twenty years of loyal service, leaving NYC with only three lesbian bars: Henrietta Hudson, Cubbyhole and Ginger’s Bar. For Ken Lustbader of the NYC LGBT Historic Sites Project, the loss is deadly. “Although their importance is often underestimated or ignored by heterosexual society, bars and other institutions play a central role in LGBT culture as centres of acceptance, community and LGBT activism,” he said. The closure of the places dedicated to lesbians thus participates in a systematic invisibilisation of women – and especially lesbians – in the public space.
(Translated)

 

Dans la capitale, alors que l’on compte des dizaines et des dizaines de bars et de clubs gays, très peu de lieux dédiés aux femmes homos et bies gardent la tête hors de l’eau. Pourquoi la nuit lesbienne est-elle si fragile ?

Une carence qui n’est pas exclusivement parisienne. Même dans une ville comme New York, réputée pour sa vie gay animée, le nombre des bars destinés aux femmes queer se réduit comme peau de chagrin. En mars dernier, le Bum Bum bar fermait ses portes après vingt ans de loyaux services, laissant NYC avec seulement trois bars lesbiens : Henrietta Hudson, Cubbyhole et Ginger’s Bar. Pour Ken Lustbader du NYC LGBT Historic Sites Project, la perte est funeste. “Bien que leur importance soit souvent sous-estimée ou ignorée par la société hétérosexuelle, les bars et autres établissements jouent un rôle central dans la culture LGBT en tant que centres d’acceptation, de communauté et d’activisme LGBT”, décrypte-t-il. La fermeture des lieux dédiés aux lesbiennes participe ainsi d’une systématique invisibilisation des femmes – et a fortiori des lesbiennes – dans l’espace public.
(Original)

Continue reading at: https://www.lesinrocks.com/2019/08/09/actualite/societe/pourquoi-y-a-t-il-si-peu-de-bars-lesbiens-a-paris/ (Source)

20 Lesbophobic Things My Male Friends Have Said to Me

by Amy Dyess

Several of my straight, gay, and bi male friends said those lesbophobic things to me. I’m butch and look very gay, which made me a visible target for sexual harassment. It’s partially why I moved from the American South, where all of this happened. I decided to share because recently the memories have been triggered. I want them out, and maybe writing about my experiences will help other lesbians.

Male friendships are tricky, no matter what a man’s orientation is. As you can see, many straight and bi male friends are really trying to hook up. Gay men project their own fears onto lesbians. Gay men have also groped me in dark, sweaty gay bars. Lesbians have to be careful around all men.

Continue reading: 20 Lesbophobic Things My Male Friends Have Said to Me by Amy Dyess (source)

Chile: Lesbian conversion therapy as a child

Chile lesbians

By Camila Toro Aguirre

In spite of the historical advances that the movement for the rights of the LGBTIQ+ community has achieved, conversion therapies are still practiced behind the walls of numerous psychological providers in Chile.
A pseudoscientific method that seeks to “cure homosexuality” psychologically, limiting and repressing any type of sexual orientation that does not conform to heterosexuality.
However, it is proven that there is nothing good in these treatments. According to the World Psychiatric Association, those who attend these therapies often “develop addictions, suicidal tendencies, sexual disorders and depression.”
In Chile in the 2000s, Carmina Vásquez, an accomplished lawyer from the University of Chile and a member of the Lesbofeminist Network in support of the LGBTIQ + community, attended conversion therapy for the first time when she was only 14 years old.
(Translated)

A pesar de los históricos avances que ha logrado el movimiento por los derechos de la comunidad LGBTIQ+, detrás de las paredes de numerosas consultas psicológicas de Chile todavía se practican las terapias de reconversión sexual.
Un método pseudocientífico que desde la psicología busca “curar la homosexualidad”, limitando y reprimiendo cualquier tipo de orientación sexual que no se ajuste a la heteronorma.
Sin embargo, está demostrado que no hay nada de bueno en estos tratamientos. Según la Asociación Mundial de Psiquiatría, quienes asisten a estas terapias suelen “generar adicciones, tendencias suicidas, trastornos sexuales y depresión”.
En un Chile de los 2000, Carmina Vásquez, una realizada abogada de la Universidad de Chile e integrante de la Red Lesbofeminista en apoyo a la comunidad LGBTIQ+, asistió por primera vez a una terapia de reconversión sexual cuando sólo tenía 14 años.
(Original)

Continue reading at: https://m.elmostrador.cl/braga/2019/07/24/lesbianismo-el-amor-no-se-cura/ (Source)

I am Polish, I am a lesbian. I was a brave rebel, today I feel fear above all

Equality Parade

Equality Parade (photo: pexels.com)

It used to be different.
Until quite recently, I was a courageous rebel. I wanted to go out into the streets, shout, protest, write letters, petitions, manifest, and give in. I had that energy, courage, strength. I was proud of it.
Today is simply bad.
I wake up in a country where every day someone compares me to a paedophile. I turn on the internet and see an ad for a newspaper supplement in the form of stickers with the words: “LGBT free zone”. A wave of fear floods me. Just anxiety, not anger, no anger. Only fear is left in me.
(Translated)

Kiedyś było inaczej.
Jeszcze całkiem niedawno byłam odważną buntowniczką. Chciałam wychodzić na ulice, krzyczeć, protestować, pisać listy, petycje, manifestować, udzielać się. Miałam w sobie tę energię, odwagę, siłę. Byłam z tego dumna.
Dziś jest po prostu źle.
Budzę się w kraju, w którym codziennie ktoś mnie porównuje do pedofila. Włączam internet i widzę reklamę dodatku do gazety w postaci naklejek z napisem: „Strefa wolna od LGBT”. Zalewa mnie fala lęku. Właśnie lęku, nie złości, nie gniewu. Został we mnie już tylko strach.
(Original)

Continue reading at: http://www.wysokieobcasy.pl/wysokie-obcasy/7,66725,25016507,ja-polka-ja-lesbijka-bylam-odwazna-buntowniczka-dzis-czuje.html?disableRedirects=true (Source)

Germany: Lesbophobia persists even in hip Berlin

Lesbians in Germany

Lesbians have two vulnerable characteristics: they are women and they are homosexual. They are therefore disregarded by people for two reasons. This double vulnerability is there, no matter where in Europe, in the world she moves with and belongs to the family.

The police arrive within minutes, the boys are highly motivated to grab the guy. They ask Anna in the patrol car and comb through the streets of Moabit. Unfortunately, in vain.

Afterwards, we ask ourselves: why did not the other people at the bus stop help? There are three buses and the Ringbahn at this station, there were at least 15 people. No one asked if we were okay, nobody took pictures, nobody called the police. Nothing.

The BVG wants to make the video recordings of our bus available, but then accidentally pulls out the wrong pictures. The relevant recordings will be deleted according to the privacy policy. The preliminary investigation against the unknown man is finally stopped.

The offence is assault. Nowhere is it mentioned that we are lesbian, although we have said it, although it is clear that we are the child’s parents. Nevertheless, it is not recorded that it was a homophobic offence.
(Translated)

Lesben haben zwei verwundbare Eigenschaften: Sie sind Frauen und sie sind homosexuell. Sie werden also aus zwei Gründen von Menschen missachtet. Diese doppelte Verwundbarkeit ist da, egal wo in Europa, auf der Welt, sie zieht mit und gehört quasi zur Familie.

Die Polizei ist binnen Minuten vor Ort, die Jungs sind hochmotiviert, den Typen zu schnappen. Sie bitten Anna in den Streifenwagen und durchkämmen die Straßen von Moabit. Leider vergeblich.

Hinterher fragen wir uns: Warum haben die anderen Leute an der Bushaltestelle nicht geholfen? Es fahren drei Busse und die Ringbahn an dieser Station, da waren mindestens 15 Leute. Keiner hat sich erkundigt, ob es uns gut geht, keiner hat Fotos gemacht, keiner hat die Polizei gerufen. Nichts.

Die BVG will die Videoaufnahmen von unserem Bus zur Verfügung stellen, zieht dann aber aus Versehen die falschen Bilder raus. Die relevanten Aufnahmen werden gemäß Datenschutz gelöscht. Das Ermittlungsverfahren gegen unbekannt wird schließlich eingestellt.

Die Straftat lautet Körperverletzung. Dass wir lesbisch sind, wird nirgends erwähnt, obwohl wir es gesagt haben, obwohl klar ist, dass wir die Eltern des Kindes sind. Trotzdem wird nicht aufgenommen, dass es eine homophobe Straftat war.
(Original)

Continue reading at: https://taz.de/Lesbenfeindlicher-Uebergriff/!5607418/ (Source)

Mexico: Lesbians, women in resistance

Love doesn't hurt hate does

Photo: Mario Jiménez Leyva

Vilma Katt Ulloa, lesbofeminist activist, argues that the fight against discrimination based on sexual preference, in Mexico was led by women. Thus, the names of lesbians such as María Castro, Nancy Cárdenas and Alma Margarita Oceguera are inscribed in the story. Over the years, the movement for the vindication of their rights was aimed at making women again invisible under the predominance of machismo and the misogyny also present within the gay community. “There is an internalized lesbophobia that is lived within those letters with which the non-heterosexual population has been characterized.”
(Translated)

Vilma Katt Ulloa, activista lesbofeminista, sostiene que la lucha contra la discriminación por preferencia sexual, en México fueron encabezada por mujeres. Así, dentro de la historia están inscritos los nombres de lesbianas como María Castro, Nancy Cárdenas y Alma Margarita Oceguera. Al paso de los años, el movimiento por la reivindicación de sus derechos fue enfilado a invisibilizar nuevamente a las mujeres bajo la predominación del machismo y la misoginia presente también dentro de la comunidad gay. “Hay una lesbofobia interiorizada la que se vive dentro de esas letras con las que se ha caracterizado a la población no heterosexual”.

Continue reading at: https://www.nvinoticias.com/nota/120109/lesbianas-mujeres-en-resistencia(Source)

Algeria: Lesbians killed to cleanse the family name

algeria
“A woman, in Algeria, is a shame for the family, because she is always expected to do something bad. The culture, the mentality, is like that in my country. The woman is the shame of the family. And if you are a lesbian, you are even worse,” explains Amina.

-When you talk about killing, is it literally?

-Literally. They say that they cleanse the family name. The law does not allow it, but they accept going to jail in order to cleanse the family name.

Homosexuality does not exist in Algeria. You hide or suffer the consequences. “The gays are beaten by the streets, all hit,” says Amina, “and they record it to upload it to social networks, proud of hitting a homosexual person.” “There are no women. Or they are not visible. Because if they knew their sexuality, they would be killed.”
(Translated)
“Una mujer, en Argelia, es una vergüenza para la familia, porque siempre se espera que haga algo malo. La cultura, la mentalidad, es así en mi país. La mujer es la vergüenza de la familia. Y si eres lesbiana, eres aún peor”, explica Amina.

—Cuando hablas de matar, ¿es literalmente?

—Literalmente. Dicen que así limpian el apellido de la familia. La ley no lo permite, pero ellos aceptan entrar en la cárcel con tal de limpiar el apellido.

La homosexualidad no existe en Argelia. Se oculta o se sufren las consecuencias. “A los gais les dan palizas por las calles, todos le pegan —apunta Amina—; y lo graban para subirlo a las redes sociales pavoneándose orgullosos de pegarle a una persona homosexual”. “Mujeres no hay. O no se ven. Porque de saberse su condición, las matarían”, zanja.
(Original)

Continue reading at: https://es-us.noticias.yahoo.com/historia-amina-refugiada-argelia-lesbiana-060000747.html (Source)

Lesbian. by Lisa Luxx

“A poem about the public lesbian experience and how the word ‘lesbian’ has become so hostile it is even taboo among our own communities, and outside our community it is mostly used as a slur or a porn category. Dedicated to the victims of increased hate crimes this pride. Filmed and directed by Tamara al-Mashouk.”

Words by Lisa Luxx.