A reflection from Jess Myers, Women’s Center director 

Last weekend, I finally decided I would go to the Women’s March on Washington.

I’ve been to marches in the past. I drove 18 hours from Baltimore to Ft. Benning, Georgia in my early 20s for the School of Americas protest with a van load of Mercy nuns and my best friend. Attending college in Washington, D.C. during the immediate aftermath of 9/11 and the start of the Afghanistan and Iraq wars had me popping on the Metro often enough to join an anti-war rally. My favorite Pride parades have been the ones I’ve walked in rather than watched from the sidelines. In Baltimore, I’ve marched for justice, for Trayvon Martin and Freddie Gray, for Black Lives.

But, never have I marched for and with women for a platform dedicated to women’s rights.

A few weeks ago, I was in a room with several UMBC faculty members as they recalled their memories of past women’s marches. As they shared their experiences, it was evident that being in a space with thousands of other women advocating for women’s rights was a powerful moment for them. While each of the individuals who shared their stories have committed their lives to activism and feminism, those marches still held a unique and powerful place in their hearts. In fact, what was particularly striking was how they spoke about their experiences in relationship to those who were with them – their mothers, their daughters, their friends.

I want to be in relationship with other women and I’ve decided that going to this Saturday’s march is just one way I can do that. I recognize that it’s a privilege to put aside my reservations about going (really, for anyone going to the march, please read this important blog by Brittany Oliver and the other resources she’s provided at the end of her post) and I will continue to sift through the messiness and be in conversations with others about what I can do to always do better by paying attention to and learning from others.

Just as importantly, I want the momentum and energy to continue after the march, especially for those who are new to the movement, new to activism, new to seeing things that are unfair and unjust. I want us to stay loud. To stay critical. To stay visible and demand what is right, what is necessary. I want you to volunteer. I want you to keep learning and growing. I want you to find your activism (if you haven’t already) and make a difference. I want all those things for myself as well.

I want to be on a journey with others who are dedicated to ending gender inequality and living the values of social justice. The march will be a moment in time and I’m so glad I have a space like the Women’s Center to welcome others to join me once Saturday is over.

Three years ago this month, the Women’s Center unveiled a new logo – the Wye Oak Tree. This logo was intended to better represent our mission, values, and priorities, which are similar to that of the vision and principles of the Women’s March on Washington. In sharing our mission, I hope it serves as a reminder to you that the Women’s Center at UMBC works daily to advocate for and advance the rights of women and marginalized people. You are invited to join us in our work today and every day.

The Women’s Center at UMBC advances gender equity from an intersectional feminist perspective through co-curricular programming, support services, and advocacy for marginalized individuals and communities. We prioritize critical social justice as our community value, with a deliberate focus on women, gender, anti-racism, and feminism.

All are welcome as long as they respect women. Their experiences. Their stories. Their potential.

Whether you march or not, on this day and every day, in and through the work the Women’s Center does, we support you, we believe you, we see you.

Our Guiding Principles

• We will encourage authentic dialogues among students, faculty, and staff to facilitate consciousness-raising, transformative learning, and self-determination.
• We will embody our commitment to diversity, inclusivity, and social justice in our operation, staffing, and programming.
• We will operate from a holistic and non-hierarchical anti-violence framework.
• We will challenge the barriers that reinforce inequity and oppression impacting our university and broader communities.
• We will cultivate women’s empowerment, involvement, and leadership in all aspects of university life.

And don’t forget:
If you’re going to the march, be sure to register!
Check out these recent podcasts from Stuff Mom Never Told You and Call Your Girlfriend for more on the history of women’s marches and details about this Saturday’s march organizers.
Stop by the Women’s Center this Friday from 11am-2pm to rally together and be in community and conversation with others – plus make a rally sign (while supplies last).

 This reflection by Women’s Center staff member Daniel Willey has been cross-posted from the Women’s Center community blog. 

Trigger warning for suicide mention; resources at the bottom of the post

My community experienced a tragedy early this October, and the ripples from the impact are still cascading across campus and beyond. I woke up that morning to several messages from friends and coworkers telling me what I already knew: a dear friend had passed from suicide.

This friend was a very private person whose spouse has also asked for privacy. In order to respect their wishes, this blog post isn’t about her. That said, I’m incredibly sad about her passing and I miss her every day and I certainly don’t want anybody to forget her. Ever. She was insatiably curious and incredibly smart. She cared deeply for her community and the students she encountered. And now she’s gone.

My friend was a trans woman and she was active in the community of queer and trans students on campus. Her death had an enormous impact on that community, and we continue to be impacted by it for many reasons. Many, and in fact most, of us in the queer and trans community live with mental illness, neurodiversity, or both, and to see it overtake someone who tried so hard for so long is discouraging at best. Mostly, it’s frightening. According to the National Transgender Discrimination Survey Report on health and health care, 41% of trans people attempt suicide in their lifetime. In the face of all of this, it’s been so hard for my community to see the light.

But also in the face of all of this, I’ve seen some incredible coming together. We are a community who has had to learn how to take care of each other. It can be difficult because sometimes we can’t even take care of ourselves, but when shit really hits the fan I know I have people I can be with. There are people with whom I can cry and talk frankly about how fucking bad it feels. And then we hold each other and support one another and even though we’re all having a hard time, we’re doing it together. 

Last week during Critical Social Justice week, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha had lunch and a small seminar with the Women’s Center and Mosaic Center staff, and she said some things I’m still thinking about. She talked about the ways in which queer, racialized, and disabled folks work together to navigate and circumvent systems which oppress us and were never built to support us in the first place.

In her keynote lecture, she talked about how she and her other disabled friends can construct a ramp out of practically anything when they need to make a space accessible to those with limited mobility. Trans people who want hormones (but can’t get them because of the many many barriers to trans-centered healthcare) buy or get them from those who can. It is not safe to take any sort of medication without the supervision of a licensed physician, but half the time trans people are the ones telling their doctors how hormones and dosages work in the first place. Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P Johnson headed STAR House in New York City in the 1970s as a way to shelter and feed homeless drag queens and runaways. The Black Panthers began a movement and social programs for black americans and black youth in response to police brutality, structural racism, and white-perpetrated violence. Marginalized people have been carving out spaces and networks for themselves since forever. Their communities had a need and the structures in place weren’t helping– in fact, those structures were (and still are) half the problem. So they did something about it.

One alternative space I want to highlight in this difficult time is Healing Justice. Healing Justice is both a space and a framework. Both began as a formal movement around 2010 during that year’s Allied Media Conference. Queer, disabled activists of color met and developed a set of principles and values. Some of those activists were Badass Visionary Healers Mkali-HashikiI, Mareclo Garzo, Rico, Tieraney Carter, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, and Jonah Aline Daniel, as well as shay(den) n. gonzalez, Hong Gwi-Seok of Iyengar Yoga Detroit, Nina Metsovaara, Robbins, Autumn Brown of Rock Dove Collective, and Rico Kleinstein Chenyek*. They created a space in which social justice activists and healers can come together to practice care.

The Healing Justice Practice Space asserts that “The way we care for ourselves and each other directly relates to our resilience and that of our communities, collectives, and movements.” We can’t continue to do the work, or sometimes even simply continue to exist, if we are not caring for ourselves and one another. We place so much value on hard work and sleepless nights that we wear ourselves out and cause our movements fizzle away. It also makes our movements and work inaccessible to people who cannot operate their lives in this way. Healing Justice asks us to integrate care into our activism and everyday lives. It asks us to set aside space and time to care and be cared for.

Healing Justice can be a way to circumvent traditional health and mental health care practices and institutions for those who cannot or do not wish to access it. Healing Justice Practice Spaces might provide services such as acupuncture, crystal healing, herbal medicine, massage therapy, “energy and bodywork, tarot & divination, visual, auditory, and movement arts, meditation as well as skillshares such as community medics workshops, trans*body workshares, body support for grief, and inducing menstruation strategy shares.” Some collectives and groups which operate within a healing justice framework toe the line of legality by providing medications and other services typically reserved for licensed physicians. Many of the practitioners in these collectives are licensed and have a vast knowledge of their field, but choose to practice in this way because they are better able to serve a community of people in need.

While some might consider these practices to be dubious at best, I challenge you to think about why a person might seek care in this way, what barriers one might face to accessing western medicine, and why we devalue medicinal practices not based in western medicine. What “legitimate” systems can’t (or won’t) provide, “illegitimate” systems often do.

One of my favorite aspects of Healing Justice is the idea of interdependence. Interdependence is understanding that “the ways we live with and treat each other has a direct impact on our wellness and collective well being towards liberation, healing and transforming our conditions.” Interdependence rejects individualist approaches to self care and acknowledges the ways in which we are all connected to one another, the environment, and the harmony of the natural world. Interdependence requires us to think about the ways in which we impact one another and allows us to rely on others.

Healing Justice is what my community needs now. It needs healing space which acknowledges trauma, practices harm reduction, allows us to trust our bodies and ourselves, and allows us to depend on one another. This isn’t to say it will be easy. Not everyone has the same needs and some of these needs will be in conflict. But, doing the work of building a structure which can support us is essential to our survival.

If you feel like you’re missing this community, it’s okay to ask for help.

There are many places online to find your community, but there are also some spaces on campus. The Women’s Center hosts Spectrum, a discussion-based program for trans, gender non-conforming and questioning students, every other Thursday at 11am. The Counseling Center offers a support group for trans students Fridays at 2pm; you can email Dr. Stuber-Lawson at estuber@umbc.edu to join. The QSL (Queer Student Lounge) is a space in the UC (on the second floor; follow the flags all the way down the hall) where students can hang out and where Freedom Alliance and QUMBC (student orgs for LGBTQ students) meet.

If you feel like you DO have this community, think about how you can open it up to other people who share your struggle.Think about how you can help make your space inclusive, accessible and inviting to those who need it.

For anyone interested in collective organizing which is accessible to all bodies and conditions, and accounts for healing and interdependence, check out the resources below.

If you or someone you know is struggling and needs help, please contact the UMBC Counseling Center (410-455-2472), Campus Police (410-455-5555), or this toll-free suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255).

You can also text this crisis line (Text START to 741-741) or contact the Trevor Project via text, chat, or phone.

The Trevor Project and It Gets Better are both crisis support and suicide prevention resources aimed at LGBTQ people. Trans Lifeline is a crisis hotline run by trans people for trans people.

A crisis can look like a lot of things– questioning identity, experiencing hate or discrimination, difficult situations at home, etc. A crisis is never not serious enough to contact these resources.

More About Healing Justice and Resources:

• Healing Justice Practice Space
• Badass Visionary Healers
• Health And Healing Justice and Liberation Values
• Health and Healing Justice and Liberation Organizing Principles
• How To Build A Healing Justice Practice Space
• Models of Consensus
• Consensus Process Flow Chart
• Tips on how to make a space/event accessible
• Tips for maintaining safety during an event/organizing meeting

*Badass Visionary Healers makes a point to acknowledge their lineage: who came before them and who inspired their work. I am following their lead and acknowledging the wisdom and hard work of the activists who often go unmentioned.

 A reflection by Women’s Center staff member Daniel

Trigger warning for suicide mention; resources at the bottom of the post

My community experienced a tragedy early this October, and the ripples from the impact are still cascading across campus and beyond. I woke up that morning to several messages from friends and coworkers telling me what I already knew: a dear friend had passed from suicide.

This friend was a very private person whose spouse has also asked for privacy. In order to respect their wishes, this blog post isn’t about her. That said, I’m incredibly sad about her passing and I miss her every day and I certainly don’t want anybody to forget her. Ever. She was insatiably curious and incredibly smart. She cared deeply for her community and the students she encountered. And now she’s gone.

My friend was a trans woman and she was active in the community of queer and trans students on campus. Her death had an enormous impact on that community, and we continue to be impacted by it for many reasons. Many, and in fact most, of us in the queer and trans community live with mental illness, neurodiversity, or both, and to see it overtake someone who tried so hard for so long is discouraging at best. Mostly, it’s frightening. According to the National Transgender Discrimination Survey Report on health and health care, 41% of trans people attempt suicide in their lifetime. In the face of all of this, it’s been so hard for my community to see the light.

But also in the face of all of this, I’ve seen some incredible coming together. We are a community who has had to learn how to take care of each other. It can be difficult because sometimes we can’t even take care of ourselves, but when shit really hits the fan I know I have people I can be with. There are people with whom I can cry and talk frankly about how fucking bad it feels. And then we hold each other and support one another and even though we’re all having a hard time, we’re doing it together. 

Last week during Critical Social Justice week, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha had lunch and a small seminar with the Women’s Center and Mosaic Center staff, and she said some things I’m still thinking about. She talked about the ways in which queer, racialized, and disabled folks work together to navigate and circumvent systems which oppress us and were never built to support us in the first place.

Leah speaking at the CSJ Home keynote event

In her keynote lecture, she talked about how she and her other disabled friends can construct a ramp out of practically anything when they need to make a space accessible to those with limited mobility. Trans people who want hormones (but can’t get them because of the many many barriers to trans-centered healthcare) buy or get them from those who can. It is not safe to take any sort of medication without the supervision of a licensed physician, but half the time trans people are the ones telling their doctors how hormones and dosages work in the first place. Sylvia Rivera and Marsha P Johnson headed STAR House in New York City in the 1970s as a way to shelter and feed homeless drag queens and runaways. The Black Panthers began a movement and social programs for black americans and black youth in response to police brutality, structural racism, and white-perpetrated violence. Marginalized people have been carving out spaces and networks for themselves since forever. Their communities had a need and the structures in place weren’t helping– in fact, those structures were (and still are) half the problem. So they did something about it.

One alternative space I want to highlight in this difficult time is Healing Justice. Healing Justice is both a space and a framework. Both began as a formal movement around 2010 during that year’s Allied Media Conference. Queer, disabled activists of color met and developed a set of principles and values. Some of those activists were Badass Visionary Healers Mkali-HashikiI, Mareclo Garzo, Rico, Tieraney Carter, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, and Jonah Aline Daniel, as well as shay(den) n. gonzalez, Hong Gwi-Seok of Iyengar Yoga Detroit, Nina Metsovaara, Robbins, Autumn Brown of Rock Dove Collective, and Rico Kleinstein Chenyek*. They created a space in which social justice activists and healers can come together to practice care.

Badass Visionary Healers

The Healing Justice Practice Space asserts that “The way we care for ourselves and each other directly relates to our resilience and that of our communities, collectives, and movements.” We can’t continue to do the work, or sometimes even simply continue to exist, if we are not caring for ourselves and one another. We place so much value on hard work and sleepless nights that we wear ourselves out and cause our movements fizzle away. It also makes our movements and work inaccessible to people who cannot operate their lives in this way. Healing Justice asks us to integrate care into our activism and everyday lives. It asks us to set aside space and time to care and be cared for.

Healing Justice can be a way to circumvent traditional health and mental health care practices and institutions for those who cannot or do not wish to access it. Healing Justice Practice Spaces might provide services such as acupuncture, crystal healing, herbal medicine, massage therapy, “energy and bodywork, tarot & divination, visual, auditory, and movement arts, meditation as well as skillshares such as community medics workshops, trans*body workshares, body support for grief, and inducing menstruation strategy shares.” Some collectives and groups which operate within a healing justice framework toe the line of legality by providing medications and other services typically reserved for licensed physicians. Many of the practitioners in these collectives are licensed and have a vast knowledge of their field, but choose to practice in this way because they are better able to serve a community of people in need.

While some might consider these practices to be dubious at best, I challenge you to think about why a person might seek care in this way, what barriers one might face to accessing western medicine, and why we devalue medicinal practices not based in western medicine. What “legitimate” systems can’t (or won’t) provide, “illegitimate” systems often do.

The Women’s Center often holds space for communities to gather and heal after difficult events

One of my favorite aspects of Healing Justice is the idea of interdependence. Interdependence is understanding that “the ways we live with and treat each other has a direct impact on our wellness and collective well being towards liberation, healing and transforming our conditions.” Interdependence rejects individualist approaches to self care and acknowledges the ways in which we are all connected to one another, the environment, and the harmony of the natural world. Interdependence requires us to think about the ways in which we impact one another and allows us to rely on others.

Healing Justice is what my community needs now. It needs healing space which acknowledges trauma, practices harm reduction, allows us to trust our bodies and ourselves, and allows us to depend on one another. This isn’t to say it will be easy. Not everyone has the same needs and some of these needs will be in conflict. But, doing the work of building a structure which can support us is essential to our survival.

If you feel like you’re missing this community, it’s okay to ask for help.

Women’s Center Spectrum program

There are many places online to find your community, but there are also some spaces on campus. The Women’s Center hosts Spectrum, a discussion-based program for trans, gender non-conforming and questioning students, every other Thursday at 11am. The Counseling Center offers a support group for trans students Fridays at 2pm; you can email Dr. Stuber-Lawson at estuber@umbc.edu to join. The QSL (Queer Student Lounge) is a space in the UC (on the second floor; follow the flags all the way down the hall) where students can hang out and where Freedom Alliance and QUMBC (student orgs for LGBTQ students) meet.

If you feel like you DO have this community, think about how you can open it up to other people who share your struggle.Think about how you can help make your space inclusive, accessible and inviting to those who need it.

For anyone interested in collective organizing which is accessible to all bodies and conditions, and accounts for healing and interdependence, check out the resources below.

If you or someone you know is struggling and needs help, please contact the UMBC Counseling Center (410-455-2472), Campus Police (410-455-5555), or this toll-free suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255).

You can also text this crisis line (Text START to 741-741) or contact the Trevor Project via text, chat, or phone.

The Trevor Project and It Gets Better are both crisis support and suicide prevention resources aimed at LGBTQ people. Trans Lifeline is a crisis hotline run by trans people for trans people.

A crisis can look like a lot of things– questioning identity, experiencing hate or discrimination, difficult situations at home, etc. A crisis is never not serious enough to contact these resources.

More About Healing Justice and Resources:

• Healing Justice Practice Space
• Badass Visionary Healers
• Health And Healing Justice and Liberation Values
• Health and Healing Justice and Liberation Organizing Principles
• How To Build A Healing Justice Practice Space
• Models of Consensus
• Consensus Process Flow Chart
• Tips on how to make a space/event accessible
• Tips for maintaining safety during an event/organizing meeting

*Badass Visionary Healers makes a point to acknowledge their lineage: who came before them and who inspired their work. I am following their lead and acknowledging the wisdom and hard work of the activists who often go unmentioned.

Friday, September 30, 2016
(Setup on Thursday, September 29)

Baltimore Convention Center
One West Pratt Street – West Wing
Baltimore, MD 21201

Join your friends, coworkers and neighbors to help hundreds of homeless individuals, children and families access the services they need. As a volunteer guide, you’ll be paired with a homeless participant and accompany them throughout the event.

This year’s event will also feature our first Mission of Mercy dental clinic serving an estimated 1,000 patients. Additional volunteers are needed for the dental clinic on Thursday, September 29.

We’re looking forward to having you volunteer again. Thank you!

REGISTER NOW

Questions? Contact us at phc@uwcm.org.

A blog reflection by Women’s Center intern Mariana de Matos Medeiros 

On October 5^th, 2014, I was finally able to cast my first vote for a Presidential election since moving to America. It was an incredible experience to head over into the Brazilian consulate event in Washington, DC, bright-eyed and ready to make a difference for my home country. As an immigrant who has not yet attained citizen status, I am not able to vote in America so voting to make a difference for my family and friends at home was empowering. As a feminist, I felt most thrilled about having the ability to vote for a leftist woman who had already done much to carry out social welfare programs. I voted for Dilma Rousseff based on how she had run her administration in her previous term: focusing on women and marginalized communities and continuing to carry out social welfare programs to address the ever widening gap between the rich and the poor.

During the past months Brazil’s political drama has reached its all-time high. With the most recent Olympic games being hosted in Rio, the entire world was watching as Brazil’s first woman-identified, leftist president was pushed out of office pending an investigation on alleged corrupt behavior.

Dilma Rousseff // image credit: Wikipedia

Rousseff ran for president under the left-winged Worker’s Party of Brazil, yet she did not always bring solidarity among feminists, as some may assume. In fact, the Brazilian feminist movements were often split between those who supported her public policies and those who rejected her administration, demanding advances in issues of reproductive justice and education. However, Brazilian feminists tend to agree that Rousseff’s impeachment was a blatant act of sexism and discrimination.  

Not only have several of her male counterparts been found to be involved with pedaladas fiscais (misusing bank funds from the federal government that are allocated to many state and federal social programs) without punishment, but over half of the senators who voted for her impeachment are being investigated for laundering money for personal benefit and other serious crimes.

Despite being cleared from any involvement in the pedaladas fiscais, Rousseff has been formally impeached. (This video helps unpack Brazil’s current political situation in more detail.)

What’s most disconcerting is that her replacement, Michel Temer, has been formally convicted of violating election laws and is barred from running for office for the next eight years. However, since he is already in office he is permitted to remain president until the election cycle in 2018.

With support of the elite, Temer and other conservatives began a slogan to encourage Rousseff’s impeachment: Tchau, Querida, which roughly translates to “Bye, darling.” This sexist and patronizing slogan undermines the significance of Rousseff’s time in office by dismissing it as the problem caused by a woman, a “darling.”

As it were, this is not the first time a woman in leadership has been undermined in her power and ability, and referring to a political leader in such a condescending and infantilizing manner is blatantly disrespectful.

Prior to the impeachment, politicians from all sides began passing a multitude of laws that slowly chipped away at women’s rights, including laws that would criminalize abortions for rape survivors, define families as a union between a man and a woman, and make accessing emergency contraception in the wake of the Zika outbreak more difficult. Simultaneously, old gendered concerns did not go away: violence against women is still a widespread pandemic and there is still an overall cultural acceptance surrounding gendered-based violence in Brazil as rape still remains an invisible crime.

However, with a more conservative political push came increased feminist mobilization. Through street protests and social media activism Brazilian women have fought back against this conservative wave of legislature. In June of this year, thousands of women took the streets behind a poster that read Por Elas Todas (For All Women) in outrage of the high rates of sexual violence against young girls.

Por Elas Todas protest // image credit: Flickr

Sadly, despite the feminist mobilization, the situation is still quite grim as Temer has already created the most conservative congress since the end of the military rule in 1985. His all-white, all-male congress has slashed ministries aimed at assisting women, black people, and other marginalized groups. Indeed, 7.6% of Brazil’s population is made up of individuals from African decent and most of these individuals live in poverty.

There are far more nuances to be investigated and discussed about Brazil’s deeply intricate political situation than I have space to discuss on this post. I have felt deeply concerned and proud to see so much activism surrounding the community I call home. It’s unquestionable that the circumstances surrounding Rousseff’s impeachment serves as a reminder to Brazil’s citizens and the world that misogyny and sexism toward women in leadership is alive and well.

The members of the UMBC Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer (LGBTQ) Faculty and Staff Association are horrified, grieved, and heartbroken in response to the hate crime/mass murder in Orlando on Sunday. We send our love and support to the Orlando LGBTQIAA+ Latinx community, the LGBTQIAA+ Muslim community, and the broader LGBTQIAA+ community. Those of us who are able are donating to LGBTQIAA+ organizations in Orlando to provide tangible help as those communities continue to grieve.

To the LGBTQIAA+ students, staff, and faculty members who are not members of the LGBTQ Faculty and Staff Association, we want you to know that you are not alone. We are here with you (you can contact us at lgbtfsa@umbc.edu), to grieve, to provide support, and to plan for the next steps in the social change that must happen. Acts of hate and terror will not bend our community’s resolve to continue our teachings about love in the face of years of violence against our communities. We are firm in our belief that violence, whether from a terrorist act, or from a homophobic individual, will not defeat us or our hard earned freedoms. We are also planning a vigil, and will soon announce details.

We recognize that our strength comes from our collective power to engage in conversation and to reach out to others. We condemn the exploitation of the Orlando hate crime to spread further hate and violence towards Muslims. We express solidarity with LGBTQIAA+ Muslims who may be feeling unsafe due to the intersection of their identities, and with the Muslim community more generally, whose safety is threatened every time sensationalized reporting immorally generalizes from the acts of a single, violent person to an entire group of people.

To our allies: We appreciate your support, and ask that you continue to listen to members of our community for the types of help that are most needed. Many in our community are feeling outraged, and it is very good to have visible allies who remind us that there are others who are also fighting for our safety and dignity. We have included a list of specific action steps at the end of this statement.

The members of the LGBTQ Faculty and Staff Association span the generations, and many of us have experienced the long history of violence and institutionalized homophobia and transphobia in this country. As we listen to the news coverage of the murders in Orlando, we have never been more convinced of the importance of our work as teachers, researchers, advocates, and allies to our LGBTQIAA+ colleagues and students. The media has not done a great job of including experts in the fields of gender or sexuality in their coverage, or explaining the history of violence directed toward LGBTQIAA+ people of color at gay bars. That this attack happened during gay pride month only adds salt to the wound. Gay pride is a time for celebrating the start of the modern gay liberation movement that was kicked off by the 1969 uprising at the Stonewall Inn in New York’s Greenwich Village where LGBTQIAA+ people (many of whom were also from the Latinx community) had been routinely harassed and assaulted by police, and for the first time, fought back. The Orlando hate crime is only the latest chapter in a long history of violence against LGBTQIAA+ people who have come together in bars and clubs to congregate in safe spaces, only to become the targets of violence.

We have also seen substantial social change/progress and an astonishing expansion of legal protections in our lifetimes. A year ago this month, the U.S. Supreme Court guaranteed LGBTQIAA+ people the right to marry all across the country; but our struggle is not over. We actively resist the complacency that can come from progress, because we see that not all members of our communities have benefited equally from these social and institutional changes. In addition to the Orlando murder of a shocking number of Latinx members of our community, there has been a recent rash of “bathroom bills” across the country targeting transgender and gender non-conforming people, many states still lack legal protections for employment and housing discrimination against LGBTQIAA+ people, and there is an epidemic of murder and violence particularly directed at people of color in our community (for example, the majority of the 31 transgender people murdered in the U.S. in 2015-2016 to date were people of color; of the 802 reported hate crimes against lesbians and gay men in the U.S. in 2015, nearly 60 percent were people of color).

It is very clear: we must continue to fight for the lives and dignity of all members of our community. And there are specific steps we can take to press forward at this time. Some suggestions from members of our community are:

• amplify the thoughts of LGBTQIAA+ people on social media (by sharing posts written by LGBTQIAA+ people) rather than sharing your own statements directly
• attend the UMBC vigil to demonstrate your support (details to be released soon)
• offer to listen to and support your LGBTQIAA+ friends if they want to talk, and cook them a meal or keeping them company if they think it would help
• write to your elected officials demanding legislation to protect LGBTQIAA+ people from discrimination in employment and housing, to control access to automatic weapons, to end the ban on gay and bisexual men donating blood, and to ensure access to bathrooms for people of all gender identities (information about contacting your elected officials is here: www.usa.gov/elected-officials or www.mgaleg.maryland.gov
• donate money to LGBTQIAA+ organizations in Orlando that are doing the work to help the communities in Orlando cope and support each other  (for example, Equality Florida (link:http://www.eqfl.org/), Planting Peace (link: https://www.crowdrise.com/we-stand-with-pulse-fund), and the GLBT Community Center of Central Florida (link:http://www.thecenterorlando.org/)

 A list by student staff member, Shira Devorah 

Summer is here, which means I finally have time to do some leisure reading!  While I’ve been known to indulge in guilty pleasure novels, I know that there are a lot of amazing feminist books out there that I haven’t taken the time to read yet.

This summer,  I plan on undertaking a feminist book club challenge! I encourage anyone reading this to come along and read with me. There aren’t any real rules to this challenge – the challenge I’m proposing to myself is to read at least 10 books that contribute to my knowledge on feminism, activism and social justice. The list of possibilities is truly extensive, so I’m going to choose just a handful of books that I think i’ll enjoy reading. Each picture will be linked to a purchasable copy on Amazon, just in case you would like to read long with me (or even better, shop local)! 

* This list isn’t in any particular order, and I’m not sure which book I’m going to read first ( or simultaneously). They’re just numbered for convenience sake.* 

1.) The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley 

Image from Amazon.com

I was given this book as a present once, but I never got around to reading it, and eventually my father accidentally gave it away. Fortunately, I’ve recently acquired a new copy. This is a novel that centers on the stories of the female characters in Arthurian legend, focusing on the antagonist of King Arthur, Morgan le Fay. Instead of being portrayed as a one-dimensional evil woman, her story is fleshed out and given substance.

2.) How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, Julia Alvarez 

I’ve heard of this book before, but I’ve never sat down to actually read it. This novel follows the lives of four Dominican sisters in reverse chronological order. I’m really excited to delve into the themes of acculturation, immigration and identity that the Garcia sisters face in this novel.

3.) Sister Outsider, Audre Lorde 

Amazon.com

Audre Lorde is a feminist hero, and I think it is massively important to read her, especially if I’m going to call myself an intersectional feminist. In this collection of 15 essays and speeches, Lorde covers a broad range of important topics, including race, classism, sexism, ageism and homophobia. I’ve read an essay or two, but I’m ready to experience Lorde’s full power.

4.) The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath

Amazon.com

I can’t believe that I’ve never read this book. I’ve picked it up a few times and read the back, but I’ve never actually sat down and read it. It’s a classic that focuses on mental illness and identity, and I cannot wait to finally take the time to read it.

5.) Redefining Realness, Janet Mock 

Amazon.com

This is a memoir by the fantastic Janet Mock, discussing her identity as a trans woman of color. I’ve really enjoyed “Her Story“, and the creators mentioned the immense  influence of Janet Mock during a talkback at UMBC.  I haven’t read too many memoirs, but this New York Times bestseller is about to change that.

6.) Bad Feminist, Roxane Gay 

Amazon.com

I often feel like a feminist killjoy. I know that once you begin to see the world through an intersectional feminist lens, all of your faves become problematic. This book of essays will hopefully help teach me how to enjoy things in life while continuing to be critical.

7.) Foxfire: Confessions of a Girl Gang, Joyce Carol Oates 

Amazon.com

When I was a senior in High School, my english teacher suggested that I read this book. I distinctly remember going to the library and finding it, but putting it back on the shelf because I thought that it looked too boring. I don’t know how a thriller about a girl gang in the 1950s seemed boring to 17-year-old me, but I think now is a good time to revisit this novel.

8.) Saga, Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples 

Amazon.com 

I’m a sucker for a good graphic novel,  yet I haven’t gotten my paws on this one just yet. Saga is a series about two lovers from different worlds trying to raise their daughter in a war-torn society. It’s beautiful, full of fantasy and sci-fi, and apparently has amazing representations of  ethnicity, gender and sexuality during a fictional war. It’s also illustrated by Fiona Staples,  a woman of color who is regarded as the  #1 female comic book artist of all-time by readers of Comic Book Resources in 2015. I can’t wait to finally read this installment (as well as the rest of the story).

9.) Gender Trouble, Judith Butler 

Amazon.com

I’ve read (and watched) a bit of Judith Butler in class, and I’m super interested in Queer Theory. This book came out in 1990, but is still important as a fundamental reading for queer theorists, so I’m going to attempt to make it through some dense vocabulary and learn a bit. I plan for mass amounts of annotation, that’s how I tend to get through theory-heavy books.

10.) Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

I have recently fallen for the poetry and all-together awesomeness of Piepzna-Samarasinha. While I’ve watched a bunch of her spoken word, I haven’t really gotten to know her outside of that. Remember how I said earlier that I haven’t read too many memoirs, and now there are two on my list? Wild, right? I’m just happy that Piepzna- Samarasinha has shared this journey of hers, I can’t wait to learn more about her.

So that’s my list!  Feel free to join in on this challenge and read these books during the summer, too! I’ll be back in a few months to tell you all how this little reading adventure went. If you want more than what’s listed here, check out this goodreads list of feminist books. Happy reading!

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Fun Fact! Did you know the Women’s Center at UMBC has a lending library where you can check out some of these books for free?! Stop by this summer and stock up on your favorite feminists reads this summer. 

UMBC’s Take Back The Night took place this past Thursday, April 14th. It was a very powerful evening, featuring a survivor speak-out, a march against sexual violence, and recuperating  with craftivism and community resources!

Couldn’t make it? Check out this recap from the evening!

The night began with an introduction by the emmcees and march leaders, Kayla  and Sarah.

A bird’s eye view captured from The Commons second floor. 

The floor was then opened to survivors to come forward and share their stories. Women’s Center student staff member, MJ poignantly pointed out the moments of silence between stories.

After a few minutes of silent reflection,  many people came forward to share. Every person who came up to the mic showed incredible bravery and helped empassion the audience to break the silence around sexual violence.

A huge crowd gathered to support survivors

A major takeaway from the night

Next came the march around campus! At this point in the night, the everyone gathered together to directly disrupt rape culture and call out sexual violence. We began the march from the Main Street, walked towards True Grits, through Academic Row, and back towards The Commons through The Quad.

The march Passes the Physics building

A beautiful shot of the march in front of the Library

1,2,3,4 WE WON’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Headed towards Academic Row

The night concluded in a craftivism session. People sat down to create Monument Quilt squares, “Dear Survivor” scrapbook pages, and survivors created t-Shirts for the Clothesline Project. People came together to create while listening to some empowering tunes and snacking on cookies.

Reflection and Action. 

Take Back The Night 2016 was a huge success! Thank you to all of the volunteers and UMBC staff members who helped make this event run smoothly and thank you to all who came out to support survivors and fight against sexual violence!

To all UMBC survivors of sexual violence –
We see you. We believe you. It is not your fault. You are not alone. 

The Women’s center staff thanks everyone for TBTN 2016!

Just a reminder for those who might not have been able to attend, there are many resources available to you, both on and off campus.

Voices Against Violence

Women’s Center at UMBC

UMBC Counseling Center

Title IX and UMBC’s Interim Policy on Prohibited Sexual Misconduct and Other Related Misconduct 

A reflection from Women’s Center staff member Daniel Willey

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about how disaster response and the concept of a snow day have social justice implications. This week, I am continuing the trend by looking at the disaster in Flint, Michigan. Many news outlets are examining the crisis from a “so how do we fix it” standpoint, but I want to look at this crisis through the lens of “how did we get here.” What structural imbalances led us to this point? What does this crisis say about the bigger picture? Before we get there, though, let’s look at what happened:

(cnn.com)

In 2011, former acting mayor of Flint, Michigan Mike Brown was appointed by Michigan Governor Rick Snyder as the city’s Emergency Financial Manager. The city was $15 million in debt, and it was the EFM’s job to cut the budget as much as possible to remedy the situation. As a major cost saving measure, Flint voted to stop buying water from Detroit, which pulls water from Lake Huron, and connect to Karegnondi Water Authority as a cheaper, more direct way of getting water from Lake Huron. This plan, voted on in 2013, would not be completed until 2016 and the city switched to water from the Flint River in the interim. Tests done on Flint River back in 2011 showed that the water from the river was corrosive and would need to be treated with phosphates before it could be used as a water source. This information was sent to the Michigan Department of Environmental Quality in 2013 when the decision was made to switch. It was the MDEQ’s job to address the corrosiveness of the water, which would cost about $100 per day. As a cost saving measure, they didn’t.

Fast forward to April 2014. Flint switches its water source. Residents report that the water is brown, smells, and has a bad taste. It was gross, but officials insisted it was fine.

(flintwaterstudy.org)

That summer, E.coli and coliform bacteria were found in the water and residents were told to boil their water. Still gross, but officials still claimed the water was safe to drink. Residents continued to report nasty water which was now causing rashes and illness across the city. In January of 2015, Detroit offered to reconnect Flint to Detroit municipal water and wave the reconnection fee. City officials declined and again insisted the water was safe.

Meanwhile, the GM plant near Flint stopped using the water, citing issues with corrosion of metal parts. Since April 2014, this same corrosion had been eating away at the zinc coating on the inside of lead pipes, allowing lead to leach into Flint’s water supply.

You probably know the rest of the story. There was cover-up after cover-up.

Thousands upon thousands of cases of water to be distributed to Flint residents (ibtimes.com)

Kids showing signs of lead poisoning were tested. The water was tested. The city switched back to Detroit’s municipal water, but it was too late. The lead was exposed and continues to leach into the water today. Flint is currently in a state of emergency, with all of its residents using bottled water to do everything from cooking to bathing to brushing teeth.

There’s a lot of stuff going on here. This timeline (and this one) and these few articles can help you get up-to-date on the facts and the finger-pointing. But, I want to focus on the residents of Flint and ask the question, How on earth did this happen?

Flint, like many parts of Michigan, was hit hard by the collapse of the automotive industry in 2009. Today, 40% of its residents are below the poverty line and 57% are black. Most are blue collar workers and the median value of owner-occupied homes is just $41,700. So, one has to wonder: Would this have happened in a white suburb? Would it have taken over a year for officials to respond? Historically, the answer is no.

It’s important to understand that the Flint disaster isn’t just the result of negligence. City officials made a conscious decision to pump corrosive, notoriously contaminated water into the homes of its residents. They also made a conscious decision to not properly treat the water. Once things got really bad, city officials did everything they could to cover it up. Flint residents are calling for answers and solutions, all while trying to survive on one case of bottled water per day.

Protesters in Detroit, Michigan during the height of the water shutoffs (thedailybeast.com)

Access to clean water is a human right. We literally cannot live without it. But, time and again poor people and people of color are denied this human right in the US. Just this last summer, water was shut off for 3,000 households in Detroit because of past-due accounts. Thousands more are at risk for losing their water– in fact, 40% of Detroit, 120,000 accounts and about 300,000 people, have outstanding water bills at an average of $755 per household. Detroit Water Brigade is one of many non-profits working to stop the shutoffs and implement a water affordability program.

Water shutoffs in Detroit and contaminated water in Flint have two important things in common: high rates of poverty and high proportions of black residents. It is no coincidence that both of these human rights violations occurred in areas of high rates of poverty and majority black population. When you consistently demonize, criminalize, and disinvest in poor or black people and black communities, a clear message is sent both to civilian constituents and city officials: these people aren’t worth our time and money and they don’t care anyway. That’s what Flint city and Michigan state officials conveyed to Flint residents and, eventually, the entire country.

Lee Ann Walters shows MotherJones.com the water from her tap

The thing is, the people of Flint do care. Lee Ann Walters is the mother of four who blew the whistle on the whole issue. It was because of her and a report from the EPA that was leaked to her that the national media began to pay attention to the issue. She organized residents for town hall meetings with city officials on numerous occasions, only to be met with dismissals and the same story about how the water was safe. In this viral video, she explains another issue with the water: she’s still being billed for it. If you can’t pay for your water, they shut it off. If you have no water, Child Protective Services get called in to remove your children from an “unfit” and “unsanitary” home. After 90 days of not paying the water bill, they cap your sewer which can lead to having your house condemned. There’s already a stigma on poor families and single parent households, especially single mothers. We call them unfit, or suggest they don’t care about their children. They are assumed to be less educated and less concerned about health issues, and now the stigma has played into how this whole thing went down: not only have classist and sexist assumptions allowed officials to dismiss local concerns for months, but they can also cause families to be uprooted or become homeless. This is what makes this issue not only a human rights issue but a social justice and feminist issue. 

Protesters in Flint, Michigan (rollingstone.com)

The residents of Flint deserve justice. Sure, officials need to be held accountable for their actions but what Flint needs right now is water. Flint needs investment. Flint needs new pipes and more jobs and better access to healthcare and government assistance programs. Flint needs schools and teachers equipped to meet the needs of the hundreds of children who have been affected by lead poisoning. Activist Michael Moore has written an open letter expressing his anger and calling for accountability and revolution. Whether or not you agree with him, it’s clear that this is a social justice issue. And, if we claim intersectional feminism as a value and practice, this is an issue feminists need to rally around as well.  

Understanding how structures of poverty, racism, and sexism set this problem up (and inform what happens next) can help activists, policy makers, and leaders keep this kind of thing from ever happening again. It can also help us answer these questions: Why didn’t it become an issue sooner? Who matters — and who doesn’t? Where else in this country are people in crisis without a voice? What will it take to get us to notice? Will we be too late?

If you want to do more to help flint, check out the Flint Water Response Team website or this article listing different areas in need of donations. The Flint water crisis didn’t become widely known and publicized until fairly recently and the EPA is still not happy with how the recovery is going. Spreading the word, sending water, and putting pressure on officials is crucial in the short term, but Flint has a long, long expensive road ahead.

Inspired by the multitude of activism taking place at UMBC over the fall semester, the Women’s Center is excited to offer a new skills-based workshop to the community. “Get It Together!”: Fundamentals of Activism will focus specifically on social justice activism. During the course of an hour, we’ll explore some of the many possibilities for engaging in activism, discuss practical options for taking action on campus, and gain new insights for creating change.

• Wednesday, February 3rd from 4-5pm in the Women’s Center
• Wednesday, Feburary 10th from 12-1pm in the Women’s Center