In theory, rights are clear. Women have the right to health, autonomy, identity, and safety. Girls and adolescents have the right to be protected, to be heard, and to grow up in environments that support their well-being. But in practice—especially for immigrant women in the United States—these rights are not always accessible.
People sometimes ask: why do we have a Women’s Day but not a Men’s Day? The answer is simple. Because men have historically held the power. They have been the ones making decisions and shaping the systems. They never needed a special day to be recognized.
This is the context in which Cigüeña emerged: a card game about children’s sexual health, created so that adults—mothers, fathers, caregivers, educators, and professionals—can learn first, before trying to teach. Because what most of us received as “sex education” were myths, silences, inherited fears, or confusing explanations that never really answered what we needed to know.
So much of cooking at home is viewed as part of a “woman’s” duty. An ideology entrenched in patriarchy, passed down by not just our fathers, but our matriarchs as well. “Ya te puedes casar” is the compliment one receives after making a delicious meal, usually learned by watching our mothers and grandmothers cook.
Int. 1216 would require the NYC Office to End Gender-Based Violence to create and distribute informational posters—available in multiple languages—to educate the general public on recognizing the signs of GBV and how those facing it may access support services.
Let’s try a quick exercise. When you hear the word “Justice” – what first comes to mind? Do you think about punishment for the person that did wrong? Or do you think about healing for the person that was wronged?
On a hot summer day, my world changed completely. The person who brought me to this world died. One moment she was alive, smiling and living and the next she was no longer reachable by a phone call or airplane ride. The grief that came over me turned my world upside down, painting it black. Sometimes, through the cracks, light shines brightly warming me up inside. There are moments of hope even though it is fleeting.
