by Pippa Fleming
I laid on a twin bed just inches off the ground weeping, “how the fuck did I get here?” as a hurricane hot flash and the smell of cat piss abruptly awakened me. Tears, sweat and funk permeated my sheets as I looked around the cluttered room feeling like a motherless child. As I rocked and held myself, I thought “death of a beloved and sexual assault feels the same.” First comes the shock and numbness, then come the people expressing empathetic sorrow and gestures of help. The body is laid to rest, then comes the repass with all that good soul food, while folks reminisce about the departed. When the last guest leaves, the door shutting behind them sparks the realization that you are alone and everyone else is going to get on with their lives, business as usual.
Call it intuition, a hunch or hindsight, I knew nothing was going to be done. I am a black gender non-conforming lesbian. Even with a narcissistic apology email from my perpetrator (that I’m going to share for shit’s and giggles) what could a black butch lesbian expect? I was disposable, nor was I a famous “queer” woman with a powerful platform like Ellen DeGeneres or Roxane Gay, sharing their stories of sexual assault… nor was I the wife of a famous basketball player like Steph Curry, who had a man arrested after making lewd comments about sexually assaulting her.
Continue reading: The hierarchy of Sexual assault: A gender non-conforming lesbian’s struggle for justice (source)
by Theresa Raffaele Jefferson
Black lesbians are everywhere and nowhere all at once. Throughout history we have been made invisible. This invisibility serves as a constant reminder that our culture, and indeed our very lives are considered at best illegitimate. At the same time, our identity as Black lesbians has been made hyper-visible when we have tried to remain in the wings. In these instances hyper-visibility becomes a means of punishment-a penalty for not understanding or refusing to abide by societal mandates. The experiences of Black lesbians in law and society illustrate this seeming invisibility/hyper-visibility paradox. Yet the tools of invisibility and hyper-visibility serve the same purpose-the legitimation of dominant cultural control. Invisibility and hyper-visibility compliment each other. They act in concert, as a dual cultural strategy of distortion, suppression, and punishment. A consistent Black lesbian jurisprudence has emerged whereby Black lesbians and our rights are erased at the intersection of our race, gender, and sexual orientation. This Note is an attempt to explore the lives of Black lesbians, to uncover law and society’s desire for us to remain seen or unseen depending on the context, and to provide a starting point for others to conduct future research.
Continue reading: https://racism.org/articles/
After three years of Luana Barbosa’s murder, the case is still in the judicial process without effectively holding the aggressors accountable. Black, lesbian, mother and outlier, Luana was killed at age 34 due to brain injuries caused by three military police officers who beat her in the corner of her house, in the Jardim Paiva II neighbourhood, in the northern area of Ribeirão Preto (São Paulo state). The assaults took place after Luana refused to be checked by the soldiers of the 51st Military Police Battalion (PM), demanding a female police presence. She was sent to the Emergency Unit of the Hospital de Clínicas (HC-EU), but died five days after the violence.
Luego de tres años del asesinato de Luana Barbosa, el caso aún sigue en proceso judicial sin responsabilizar efectivamente a los agresores. Negra, lesbiana, madre y periférica, Luana fue asesinada a los 34 años por lesiones cerebrales provocadas por tres policías militares que la golpearon en la esquina de su casa, en el barrio Jardim Paiva II, zona Norte de Ribeirão Preto (estado de São Paulo). Las agresiones ocurrieron después de que Luana se rehusó a ser revisada por los soldados del 51º Batallón de la Policía Militar (PM), exigiendo una presencia policial femenina. Ella fue encaminada la Unidad de Emergencia del Hospital de Clínicas (HC-UE), pero murió cinco días después de la violencia.
Continue reading at: https://kaosenlared.net/brasil-madre-negra-y-lesbiana-asesinato-de-luana-barbosa-sigue-impune-luego-de-tres-anos/ (Source)
Between 2014 and 2017 the murders of lesbian women increased by 237%. The study ” Murdered by lesbophobia – The stories that no one has” made by “We – Feminists Dissidences” collective, shows both how crimes have increased and also that in most cases the murdered women were young and black.
In Brazil, lesbian women face many dangers, it goes beyond lesbophobia, it is also machismo, misogyny and racism. “Lesbians are sexually and affectively exclusively with women, but the main lesbian killers in Brazil are men,” says Cinthia Abreu, member of the World March of Women and March of Black Women of São Paulo.
Entre 2014 y 2017 el asesinatos de mujeres lesbianas aumentó un 237%. El estudio “Asesinadas por lesbofobia – Las historias que nadie cuenta”, hecho por el colectivo “Nosotras – Disidencias Feministas”, además de mostrar cómo han aumentado los crímenes demuestra que en la mayoría de los casos las mujeres asesinadas eran jóvenes y negras.
En Brasil las mujeres lesbianas se encuentran ante muchos peligros, va más allá de la lesbofobia, también es el machismo, la misoginia y el racismo. “Las lesbianas se relacionan sexual y afectivamente exclusivamente con mujeres, pero los principales asesinos de lesbianas en Brasil son hombres”, afirma Cinthia Abreu, integrante de la Marcha Mundial de Mujeres y Marcha de Mujeres Negras de São Paulo.
Continue reading at: http://www.mirales.es/el-asesinato-a-mujeres-lesbianas-en-brasil-ha-aumentado-un-237/ (Source)
Posted in News
Tagged Black lesbians, corrective rape, Discrimination, harassment, Hate crimes, Lesbian Murder Victims, Lesbians in Brazil, lesbians of colour, Lesbophobia, male violence against women, murder of lesbian, persecution
“Finding the stories of our Black lesbian foremothers isn’t always easy. That’s not because there were none. Despite what the history books say, Black lesbian women have been around for hundreds of years, living lives filled with the extraordinary and the everyday. Women like Stormé DeLarverie have led revolutions. And yet Black lesbian stories are hard to find.
Those who have traditionally held the power to decide whose stories get to be recorded as history have been white, male, and invested in the social order of women living lives centered around men: the system of heteropatriarchy. For the most part, those historians considered the experiences and inner-lives of Black women beneath their notice. Close reflections on the average Black woman’s life at any point in the last few hundred years would also have held the risk of making it that much harder to sustain the myth that Black people weren’t really human, bringing home the ugly truths of white supremacy.
In addition, the stories of lesbian women have been deliberately erased from history across continents and culture. As a result, Black lesbian lives are that much more obscure. Men have hoped that in denying women the blueprint to a lesbian life, they could keep us all in the confines of heterosexuality – a never-ending source of sexual, reproductive, domestic, and emotional labor. But lesbian women throughout time have always found one another, even with the odds stacked against them – although many letters, diaries, and pictures that made up the proof have been consigned to the ash heap of history.”
Continue reading more of Claire Heuchan at: We Need to Talk About Misogyny and the LGBT Community’s Erasure of Black Lesbian History – AfterEllen (source)