Chamaca Arts has a new home... www.chamaca-arts.com
Join us while we ride this journey of empowerment and celebration of the Divine Feminine. We have created a new space, a new communication network just for Women and Girls. A new face with the same heart and spirit we have always carried with us. Log into www.chamaca-arts.com and read our blog and leave a comment, visit the services we provide and bring us to your school, community center or home. Sign our guest book and join our mailing list to be inspired and supported. At Chamaca Arts we say FAREWELL to SILENCE and HELLO to VOICE... we want to hear from YOU!!!
We encourage and are thankful to each and everyone that will share this site and information. Remember the website and new home is www.chamaca-arts.com we can be emailed at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Lots of things happening in the world of the Chamaca lets hear what you have to say!
Chamaca Arts WILL keep this blog and update so stay tuned and share with your friends and family.
Love and light, Founder of Chamaca Arts... Mia Roman Hernandez
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
There is an incredible power girls and women have to change the future for everyone. Girls and women are making real changes around the world while breaking the cycle of poverty in the developing world.
When a girl is educated, nourished and protected, she shares her knowledge and skills with her family and community, and can forever change the future of a nation. It’s that powerful.
It only takes ONE girl to change the world.
See the Times article below published in the Times... If you know of a girl or woman making changes, moving boulders and inspiring lives comment and tell Chamaca Arts all about her.
Monday, Feb. 14, 2011
To Fight Poverty, Invest in Girls
By NANCY GIBBS
We know what the birth of a revolution looks like: A student stands before a tank. A fruit seller sets himself on fire. A line of monks link arms in a human chain. Crowds surge, soldiers fire, gusts of rage pull down the monuments of tyrants, and maybe, sometimes, justice rises from the flames.
But sometimes freedom and opportunity slip in through the back door, when a quieter subversion of the status quo unleashes change that is just as revolutionary. This is the tantalizing idea for activists concerned with poverty, with disease, with the rise of violent extremism: if you want to change the world, invest in girls. (See pictures of women in war.)
In recent years, more development aid than ever before has been directed at women — but that doesn't mean it is reaching the girls who need it. Across much of the developing world, by the time she is 12, a girl is tending house, cooking, cleaning. She eats what's left after the men and boys have eaten; she is less likely to be vaccinated, to see a doctor, to attend school. "If only I can get educated, I will surely be the President," a teenager in rural Malawi tells a researcher, but the odds are against her: Why educate a daughter who will end up working for her in-laws rather than a son who will support you? In sub-Saharan Africa, fewer than 1 in 5 girls make it to secondary school. Nearly half are married by the time they are 18; 1 in 7 across the developing world marries before she is 15. Then she gets pregnant. The leading cause of death for girls 15 to 19 worldwide is not accident or violence or disease; it is complications from pregnancy. Girls under 15 are up to five times as likely to die while having children than are women in their 20s, and their babies are more likely to die as well.
There are countless reasons rescuing girls is the right thing to do. It's also the smart thing to do. Consider the virtuous circle: An extra year of primary school boosts girls' eventual wages by 10% to 20%. An extra year of secondary school adds 15% to 25%. Girls who stay in school for seven or more years typically marry four years later and have two fewer children than girls who drop out. Fewer dependents per worker allows for greater economic growth. And the World Food Programme has found that when girls and women earn income, they reinvest 90% of it in their families. They buy books, medicine, bed nets. For men, that figure is more like 30% to 40%. "Investment in girls' education may well be the highest-return investment available in the developing world," Larry Summers wrote when he was chief economist at the World Bank. Of such cycles are real revolutions born. (See TIME's video "Education in Haiti: A Teacher's Passion and Vision for Change.")
The benefits are so obvious, you have to wonder why we haven't paid attention. Less than 2¢ of every development dollar goes to girls — and that is a victory compared with a few years ago, when it was more like half a cent. Roughly 9 of 10 youth programs are aimed at boys. One reason for this is that when it comes to lifting up girls, we don't know as much about how to do it. We have to start by listening to girls, which much of the world is not culturally disposed to do. Development experts say the solutions need to be holistic, providing access to safe spaces, schools and health clinics with programs designed specifically for girls' needs. Success depends on infrastructure, on making fuel and water more available so girls don't have to spend as many as 15 hours a day fetching them. It requires enlisting whole communities — mothers, fathers, teachers, religious leaders — in helping girls realize their potential instead of seeing them as dispensable or, worse, as prey. (See a brief history of women in power.)
A more surprising army is being enlisted as well. A new initiative called Girl Up aims to mobilize 100,000 American girls to raise money and awareness to fight poverty, sexual violence and child marriage. "This generation of 12-to-18-year-olds are all givers," says executive director Elizabeth Gore, the force of nature behind the ingeniously simple Nothing but Nets campaign to fight malaria, about her new United Nations Foundation enterprise. "They gave after Katrina. They gave after the tsunami and Haiti. More than any earlier generation, they feel they know girls around the world."
And so the word goes out, by text, by tweet, on Facebook, that coming soon to a high school gym near you may be a Girl Up pep rally, where kids can learn what it feels like to carry a jerrican of water for a long distance, or how sending $5 to Malawi can stock a health clinic with girl-friendly materials or buy school supplies. Or how $5 to Ethiopia can make the difference in a girl's not being married when she's 10. And one at a time, a rising generation of American girls helps create the next generation of leaders, for the coming quiet revolutions.
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Monday, May 16, 2011
Achieng Beatrice Nas
Programme Officer; Communications , Build Africa Uganda (BAU)
"I believe everybody has the potential to live a better life. Given the opportunity, education and motivation everyone can become someone admirable.”
Nine months of labour, painful hours of birth that consists of pushing out a human being (that weighs a minimum of two Kilos) out of their body at a cost of near-to-death and then looking after these beings for the rest of her life. Many still give birth at their homes, in their houses, kitchen and latrines, enduring the pain as it comes and by the help of old women, who chop off the cord of the babies using razorblades and without gloves. She gives birth to up to fifteen children because her husband won't allow family planning methods.
She was sold off by her parents for bride wealth from as early as 10years of age, she is considered as a property by her husband, she has no voice in her own house, she is bartered by her husband so often but her parents won't allow her return to their house because once married, always married. She hunts for food, firewood, water, vegetables to feed her family. She is in the farm on a daily basis, her office for life. It is from the very garden that the many more poor toil in the "better- offs" farms to earn hard cash that they can use to buy soap, salt, matchbox, and kerosene (the basic needs), their husbands are not ashamed to steal the little cash their wives toil for. Once he spots, he picks the whole of it and take to the alcohol joint and drink it ALL with other women.
Some women struggle to grow rice, cotton, nuts, corns for commercial purposes in order to pay school fees for the children and meet the demands in the house, in the process their husbands are busy sipping alcohol and engaging in idle games. As soon as the hard cash arrives, the wife, as respectful as usual declares her every financial gains to the man, he takes the initiative of "keeping the money" as the "the man in the house". Soon after the wife hands over the whole cash to him, the next step is marring another wife, torturing and bartering the home wife, sleeping for weeks in the drinking joints...
Where are the women in our villages heading to if they have no time to relax and have fun? all the time busy with garden and house work. In fact some do not even find time to take bathes. There are so many village women who have unpleasant smell simply because they do not find time to clean themselves. Those who try to be neat are accused of cheating on their husbands. A man sits idle, the baby is crying, utensils need cleaning, there is no firewood, no water in the house, no food, he will continue to sit and relax comfortably because tradition has it that it is the woman's role to do all the house work.
Did you ever take time to analyze the lifestyle of a typical African village woman? Do you see that the majority complain of back ache? Have you asked those walking on sticks about their past?
Surely if by a disturbing freak of nature the men underwent childbirth, going through the whole process from carrying someone in their bellies to having their legs stretched apart with people they do not know, sticking their hands inside them and pulling out these creatures, I believe that no man would ever come home late to their wives or girlfriend courtesy of late night drinks with the "boys". They would be as docile as they came- I mean no going out, no boozing, no quarrels, no nothing but just being at their women's beck and call.
It is time for our African men to consider women's lives. Gone are the days of proving manhood this way. A real man supports his family, a real man loves and respects his wife, a real man is faithful, a real man cares about humanity. Be a real man.
Written by a brave young voice in Uganda…. Achieng Beatrice Nas
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Maria Aponte shares her passion and journey with Chamaca Arts....
Born and raised in New York City’s East Harlem, (El Barrio) Maria has worked extensively in Latino Theatre. She studied at the Puerto Rican Traveling Theatre, The Actor’s Playhouse, and Henry Street Settlement. She has performed in various theatre productions. Maria wrote and performs her one-woman show Lagrimas de Mis Madres; a biography of the women in her family which made its debut at the Asia Society in 1996, as part of a multicultural theatre production called, Tides of Intolerance produced by Shotgun Productions. Tides of Intolerance, dealt with discrimination against women of color. Ms. Aponte also wrote and performs a performance piece based on the life of Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, Mexico’s first feminist poet and playwright called I Will Not Be Silenced. Maria performs her work nationally for conferences , colleges and universities. She has been published in the Marymount Review, the literary magazine of Marymount Manhattan College. Studied at Iowa University Summer Writer’s Workshop and, holds a BA in English Literature from Marymount Manhattan College. In March of 2000, Lagrimas de Mis Madres was published by Marquette University and Western Michigan University in Caribe Revista de Cultura y Literatura. Maria is also an educator and career/academic counselor at Fordham University and is currently pursuing her Masters in Latino Studies.
Life Journeys are My Inspiration by Maria Aponte 3/6/11
Growing up with a terminally ill mother as a single child in El Barrio in the 1960’s was not a topic I would find the courage to talk about until I turned 39 years old. I never experienced childhood because I was my Mother’s caregiver, keeper and, sometimes, her Mother, starting at the age of 9. As a young woman I just did what I knew best- survive, duck and cover when things got bad.
My safe place was the theatre. I knew from the 2nd grade that I would love the theatre, not film – but the stage. When I came into acting during the mid to late 1970’s I studied my craft and I only wanted to be an actress. I did not realize that roles were limited for Latinas at that time. The few roles available were stereotypical. Today I see a constant tidal wave of Latinos making it into the business, through theatre/film/art/poetry.
I am grateful for the work/accomplishments/ achievements that I see. However, I never forget that it took much sweat/tears/hurt/rejections to open those doors of expression. It is those women & men who opened these doors who I honor/respect and pay homage too. In order to say and feel and believe this I had to step back and take a journey within myself. I had to learn to open my mind/heart/soul to what was going on within me –not the outside world. To find the courage to change yourself and the choices you make in life is not easy. To stick to the idea that each day you take one thought, one action that YOU are responsible for- not those around you and work on changing that so you can be a better person, a better contributor to society is not easy.
However, when you can make that commitment to yourself then your life changes. Things turn around. I feel that when you become aware of who you are, all of your senses follow and your world changes. When I made that commitment to myself to change – my life changed. My surroundings changed and, more importantly, the women that crossed and continue to cross my path were movers and changers. It is these women who inspire me to be a better woman/teacher/mentor. I learned to respect myself and in doing so I have allowed others to respect me.
When I started this journey as an actress all those years ago on a dusty stage in a now non-existent building in Manhattan – little did I know that one day I would find the courage to tell my story in my own words. Little did I know that in changing I would be a better person for it. Today I’m in my mid-50’s. I have no shame about my age. As a matter of fact, I talk about my age and share where I am today because I want to be accessible to younger women.
You don’t have to do it alone. When its time for your door to open it will do so. I was single most of my adult life. I was the one who would sing/yell at the top of her lungs in the middle of the living room Gloria Gaynor’s anthem for single women I Will Survive. I never thought I would get married but I did. However this only happened because I was ready. I did the internal work to change my life. When that process happened my life changed and new doors opened as a writer/poet/teacher. This is what my Spiritual Sisters taught me and continue to teach me. I try my best to keep those that love me around me and give that love back. I also am a strong believer in giving without expectations. I find that the rewards have no price tag. My blessing to you is this: may you find your door. In the meantime, walk the journey. Don’t go too fast. You might miss something that you may need. Find inspiration in what you do. Listen to your Heart and Spirit. When the door opens the brightness and love that streams across will be what is for you.
Join Maria Aponte and friends for some creative fun .......
Thursday, March 24 • 7:00pm - 9:00pm
East Harlem Cafe 104th Street & Lexington Avenue, NYC
Poetry Performance by Maria Aponte with musical accompaniment by Chacho Ramirez and Dwight Brewster. Special Guests: Authors David Perez & Veronica Golos reading from their recently published books. Artisan Mia ArtbyMia Roman will be exhibiting & selling her artwork and wearable pieces.
A Poetic word by Maria....
Out of the Brown Paper Bag
Jutted rocks scattered throughout the road, bare feet crossing over, getting cut, skin opening, letting small rivers of blood flow from my being, the journey is long up ahead. As I look up see trees- dark branches entangled in an embrace, triangles of arms, legs, torsos. Different shades of white, brown, and black a piece of tissue, with bright red lipstick. My heart jumps with fear, a piercing pain goes through my heart—it can’t be! No it can’t be!
Don’t want to cry no more, long hair found in intimate parts of the bath. Long hair when these brown limbs own no long hair. The trees looking like shadowy figures in the night, wishing it were daylight so I can see. OUCH!
Another cut on my foot, another blood river. Looking up, the sky is covered with patches of crossing shadows in misshaped patterns of chaos—never really being able to make them out. Something pushes me. An invisible hand on my lower back guiding me, don’t want to go- yet it is destiny to proceed.
Blast of light, early morning, still enjoying the warmth of good lovemaking, feeling serene, more hair- this time on my shampoo! My heart stops, links connecting like a chain phones ringing in the night/changed plans/ full weekends cut down to half days. Asking questions, getting no answers!
Frustration/Anger/Hurt/ Fear- Betrayed.
Jutted rocks cutting into my feet, scattered rocks all over the road. My tears flow clear but of blood. Blood tears flow from my heart. Compassion squeezed out and my soul drying up. Rocks cut into my feet. Finally, looking down, I see that the road is smooth, not jutted with rocks. I look ahead, the branches are smooth, arms embracing, entwining, like intricate lace, making a pattern of flowers. There is light up ahead. The road brightens. My feet are healing. My heart lightening, my soul embracing, compassion returning for I am realizing that I no longer have to carry other people’s pain.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Mayo... Our Chamaca Chica from Japan has shared her voice with us straight from Japan. Her words call for help and give us an idea of what is immediately needed in Japan. It's always nice to have someone on the site giving a first-person account of the situation. Mayo gives us a short list of practical ways that we can help. I applaude her courage and thank her for giving us insight to something so devistating. Mayo... A Chamaca Chica Warrior!! Our prayers and blessings are with you and everyone in Japan.
A tsunami triggered by one of the largest earthquakes ever recorded in history slammed Japan's eastern coast killing hundreds of people as it swept away boats, cars and homes as widespread fires burned out of control. The 8.9 magnitude offshore quake unleashed a 23-foot tsunami and was followed by more than 50 aftershocks for hours, many of them of more than 6.0magnitude. The tsunami that crashed ashore swallowed everything in its path. Large fishing boats and other sea vessels rode high waves into the cities, slamming against overpasses or scraping under them. Being swallowed like toy boats and cars. Upturned and partially submerged vehicles were seen bobbing in the water. A seen out of a Hollywood movie, the difference is that this is no movie and hundreds have lost their lives with the death tolls climbing daily.
A letter from Mayo....
In Japan, it was very strong earthquake.
I and my family are safe, because we live far-off place from focus of the earthquake. But some my friends live devastated area, an acquaintance of mine; she can’t contact her family still now.
I would like to know you about be careful things of not devastated area people.
1. We must not send groundless rumor.
Sufferer, they have very strong fear, so nor sufferer, be careful not to send information frivolously. There are not only sure information, and not only information of goodwill. Do not disturb them!
Be careful it!
2. If you support sufferer, please use solid supporting organization.
If you send relief to earthquake victims by personally, you will disturb there. So please use solid supporting organization.
And when you would like to give blood to sufferer, please do planned behavior.
There are many women in devastated area, they hard to say “want sanitary napkin or tampon”. Please don’t lose of women!
Please give them sanitary napkin or tampon.
4. Please do long-term support.
Retrieval, it need many times.
Please do long-term support.
Thank you very much for many countries support my country, I am so glad at it.
I hope my friends will be safe, and my acquaintance can contact her family.
Sadly, there are many dead, I pray for the souls of the dead, and I hope the death toll will not increase from now.
In Japan, many countries support my country now, thank you very much!
My friends and acquaintance are safe and also their family safe.
I have to write additional thing.
In devastated area, situation of sufferer is getting bad by the minute.
There are many people, so there are many babies, but their diaper wanted,
Please don't lose sight of them!
Sites researched and recommended by Mayo to make a donation are as follows:
Thank you, thank you so much.
For those looking to help please take Mayo's advice and find a reputable institution to donate to. Thank you Mayo for your letter.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Chamaca Arts had the wonderful opportunity to chat with Rebecca Lolosoli Matriarch of Umoja Uaso Womens Village. She was warm, inviting and very inspiring. The work she has done and continues to do is nothing short of Warriorship and the signs of a true Leader. The results are proof that if we work collabortively in support of one another and are passinate about our causes, communities and tribes we can attain and empower the world as a whole.
In 1990, Rebecca and 16 other homeless women came together for mutual protection and formed the Umoja Uaso Women's Organization. Umoja, which means "Unity". It is now a safe haven for women and the girls fleeing abuse, as well as a training center for those seeking to promote human rights, economic empowerment, and the preservation of indigenous art and crafts. The women of Umoja provide for their children and themselves through the sale of their beaded jewelry and crafts. Which include traditional as well as contemporary products. Your purchase supports their efforts.
For more on the arts and crafts products see www.umojabeadedjewelry.com
Monday, March 7, 2011
NILIMA RAUT from NEPAL is currently working on her masters in Mass Communication and Journalism. She is a member of Rotaract and has served rotaract as Vice President, President and currently Public Relations Officer for the Rotaract Club of Charumati District Committee 3292 Nepal. She won the ‘MISS ROTASIA 2010’ award in the south Asian rotaract conference, held in India. She is also a voice of our future correspondent for 2010. Nilima was recently selected as an OUTSTANDING CANDIDATE to represent NEPAL at the One Young World conference, taking place in September 2011 in Switzerland (www.oneyoungworld.com). The conference is described as "the premier global forum for young people of leadership calibre. It manifests the reality of common humanity and the shared existence of all the peoples in one world, Its purpose is to connect and bring together the youngest, brightest and best and to ensure that their concerns, opinions and solutions are heard.
She is looking for sponsorship to cover the 3,000 Euro tuition. You can support Nilima to represent Nepal in OYW conference by making donations, the best way to do that is WESTERN UNION and IME. Please email her at email@example.com for enquiries. Feel free to tell her Art By Mia (Mia) sent you.
The Red Tent by Nilima… Nepal
Going to school was tough at that time due to the cold temperatures. Snowy in the winter season, there were hardly very hot temperatures even in the summer. This mountain area called Dolakha is where I was born. I developed my first crush on one of the mountains called Mt. Gaurishankar on a beautiful morning when the sunshine kissed the mountain and it glowed like heaven as I had heard in legendary stories about it. Named after the Gauri-goddess and Shankar-god from the Hindu religion, Climbing this mountain is prohibited because of religious beliefs and respect. But every time I went close to the mountain or saw its heavenly view, I imagined hugging it.
Imaginations and dreams were part of my life when I was growing up. However, as I got older, I noticed changes occurring in my body and this was a very weird experience for me. It was shameful for me to ask my parents about these physical changes and even my mom never told me exactly what would happen in my body as I matured. Back then, our culture didn’t allow us to talk freely about physical bodily changes, or reproductive or sexual health; even now, the custom remains in my country.
Due to cold my cheeks were redder than usual on this particular day; I was 12 at the time. Feeling some strange pain in my belly, I also felt like my underwear smelled. I still remember this day! I was wearing yellow underwear and later at home, I observed a red color on them. At first, I thought it was a stain I may have gotten while playing. Then I started thinking bad thoughts—maybe I had stomach cancer or an intestinal wound and maybe it would cause death. I was trembling with fear seeing strange things in my life. I couldn’t be sure that it was menstruation because our woman elders used to say, “Nachhhunu bhayapachhi nidharma tika lagchha.” This means we get a mark on our forehead when we have our first menstruation. I didn’t see any mark on my forehead. To this day, I am not sure why they say it like that. I was too afraid to tell my mom so I wore three trousers and went to school. The whole day I was nervous thinking of the heavy bleeding. I didn’t know anything about menstruation, except that my mom would not touch anything for five days each month.
The Nepali word for menstruation is nachhunu which means untouchable. It means while we are menstruating, we are considered untouchable or impure for five days and everything we touch becomes impure. When we have our first menstruation, we are not allowed to touch any males (including our father and brothers) and are not allowed to enter the kitchen or prayer rooms for 22 days. We also have to use separate utensils. Further, looking in the mirror during menstruation is considered bad luck. Our culture has the superstitious belief that menstruation is the punishment of sins from our previous lives.
So when our house maid noticed the blood on my dress after I came home from school, she immediately told my mom. They packed some of my dresses and told my dad to go out of house so that I couldn’t see him. I went with our house maid to her home which was approximately 1 ½ hours away. While there, I was given a dark room with no sunlight and given one plate and glass to use for eating. People said to me, “timi aba thuli bhayau” which means now I am grown up. Ohh! Now, grown up means I had to be careful from then on not to play with male friends, not to stay out too long, not to go out often or at all. I used to cry when I was alone for being grown up—all coming from this one simple, natural physical change in my body. I hated that blood which made this sudden change. At the time, I had to use rags because I didn’t even know there were things like sanitary pads. Using rags was unhygienic and I was also unaware of how to wash them carefully. Days were so hard; all of the restrictions were the worst part. On “those days,” I was kept away from school and feared what questions my friends and teachers would ask. I saw many of my friends miss school during their menstrual periods; I also saw some friends get married after they started menstruating because they were now considered “grown up” in my culture.
I was supposed to stay away from my home for 12 days but luckily my mom allowed me to come back on the seventh day. That day, I was given new cloths and new things. I entered our home after they sprinkled gold water (they put gold in water, as it is believed to be pure). I was told that I shouldn’t touch my dad for 22 days. This was extremely challenging because I was always “Daddy’s Little Girl” and couldn’t imagine not talking to or hugging my dad. I cried a lot and hated being grown up. Many people stared at me and scolded me, telling me it was a sin. This depressed me for a long time after that.
There are many cultures in Nepal. Some of them treat menstruation in a good way and some of them treat it as if it is a big curse(more in the eastern part). The majority of girls learn about menstruation from their mothers, sisters and girl friends but what happens when they don’t know about menstruation hygiene? And what happens when they have knowledge, but they lack proper facilities for their hygiene? As a result, some of them suffer from depression and some get various infections. Many girls prefer to stay home during this time, which leads to their poor school performance.
My parents were unaware of this and I am sure they didn’t do it intentionally. But I had to aware them about it so my younger sisters didn’t pass through the same condition. And I am spreading awareness on the same through rotaract. I am proud to be in Rotaract (sponsored by rotary club of Charumati) and one of our recent projects was a Girls Toilet Project for which I am a coordinator, funded by the Matilda Bay-Australia Rotary Club. We have completed the project and I am currently working voluntarily in that school to raise awareness on menstruation hygiene, as well as other basic teenage problems. This is the first step of a big mission of mine! I am still learning and seeking new ways and ideas to include both genders. And I am happy that young girls don’t have to suffer in the same way I did in my early days of menstruation.
It depends upon how different cultures practice menstrual hygiene. But it is a very important part of health education like other major health issues without which woman empowerment is incomplete. It’s only possible to increase menstruation hygiene when not only health officers but teachers and parents play a vital role in transmitting a message of proper menstrual hygiene. This wouldn’t only save girls from many health hazards but would break the barrier to their regular school attendance. And we can play a most significant role through communicating with each other to create safe menstrual hygiene in our families and in our communities.
This is where the woman empowerment begins…
Thank you Nilima for being a Goddess Warrior and sharing your VOICE!!!
We RISE as One VOICE!