SHUT YOUR GAY PHALLUS UP: BE LGBT, NOT GGGG by Jacob Longaker

Enjoy our first reflection on time in Rio de Janeiro by Luis David Rueda Molina '20!


Lapa felt dangerous, more so because of what we had been told than by any actual fear I could have. As soon as we got to the area, the group signaled to be quiet. After a rather long walk, we made it to Casa Nem, a shelter for trans folks and travestis in downtown Rio de Janeiro. 

A #MarielleVive sticker sat right next to a #LulaLivre one at the door frame of the house. We knocked but Mari didn’t hear us. A couple of people who were hanging out in the street came to the rescue. They lived there. Mari answered and we entered.

High walls with mostly queer political messages here and there, Mari welcomed us and told us to make ourselves at home. She grabbed the food we had just bought at a bakery to put it at the table. Some more people came in. I was overwhelmed. 

“Sou Roberta*” she said as she sat down right next to me. Roberta, a 22 year-old who introduced herself as “um gay feminino” while I was talking to her in portunhol, drank some of that powder chocolate we brought before going to work, which for her involves sex. The streets are rough, but she was about to make them because money makes the world go round.

As I bounced around another section of the room, I met Geraldo*. He was discussing his stances on black lives to the group of people he was talking to in some combination of Portuguese, Spanish and English. Oh boy, you do learn how to communicate in some combination of languages when something burns inside of you that much.

Their openness shocked me in a way I can’t really describe and their attention to a group of strangers amazed me. In less than 20 minutes, the room turned into a safe space where we let all the Beyoncé and Lady Gaga tunes run. In less than 20 minutes, we had turned from being a group of strangers meeting another group of strangers to singing together as loud as our lungs would allow. I wondered whether there was something more human than that. I guess, I answered that one.

Answering the question of why these people are pushed to the margins of society in such terrible ways and I am not gets slightly more tricky. It makes me damned privileged. It makes me terribly mad. It makes me stupidly anxious. And if I feel this way, I can’t even try to imagine how they feel. I have no right to imagine how they feel.

My energy dropped. I walked around the shelter, they took us upstairs and the poor state of the building frustrated me. We went to the downstairs area again and, as Mari told us what the shelter was supposed to be - but couldn’t be as of that moment, my energy dropped some more. We could all picture the space we were in as a coffee shop, but they all knew they couldn’t do it. Probably trained to feel desensitized to this whole reality that was overwhelming me, Mari told us how the house started and what kind of support to trans/travestis folks the house has always expected to provide. Big names came into the equation as she described the neighborhood and Madame Satã, the famous Brazilian drag queen and malandro, was among them. Indianare, a trans woman known for her activism in the Rio area, walked in and I could feel the discomfort in Jacob’s face, who unlike me, knew what was going on.

As Indianare began her 15 minute speech in Portuguese non-stop without translation, my energy dropped to the lowest low. As Portuguese is similar to Spanish, I managed to understand part of what she was saying. A person that used to frequent the shelter had been killed and burned two days before our meeting. Matheusa, the deceased, was a non-binary person of color and college student who was found dead in a favela. As she rambled on and on about how terribly awful this world is and how machismo/patriarchy is ingrained in our social structure, I (un)fortunately felt a strong sense of empathy towards her words. As she continued on in the most honest monologue ever delivered, I understood her anger as she talked about humans who hate on other humans and treat each other at an animalistic level. Thirty years being an activist and she still did not see the end. “And I hope it ends soon,” she concluded. She could not help the tears. As soon as we left the building, I couldn’t help to feel devastated. The feeling followed me throughout the whole night.  Finding the courage to speak about anything right after our time there became a challenge.

We shared a lively moment with members of CasaNem (Longaker)

We shared a lively moment with members of CasaNem (Longaker)

Thinking and re-thinking, I questioned myself and I questioned the male ga(y)ze that follows the way I live my queerness and my homosexuality. I ask the mainstream (white) male gay community what’s up? I ask folks like me, walking gay and privileged phalluses, what’s up? I ask myself what’s up? We get same-sex policies approved and we feel entitled to say we are done. Dead serious now, what are we doing?

Stop with that privileged GGGG bulls**t! Folks were beaten up at Stonewall and are still beaten up across the world in a bunch of places for feeling different, whether that is based on gender expression or sexual orientation. Trust me, I am not telling this to you for the sake of it, dear gay phallus. I am also telling this to myself because I am you and you are me, and we both do not speak up enough for the T within our LGBT. I am not blaming you directly for your passivity. I am blaming myself too.

Some could come to me and tell me that I should stop pitying. I am a white gay man. I am not a trans person or a travesti and therefore I can’t understand their struggle. They have different demands than we do as a collective because theirs are based on gender/gender identity and not sexual orientation. Oh well, you know what I say to that? I say, a) I am not pitying anybody, I am trying to be human to other human, b) I am not living their struggle but I can strongly empathize with someone being mistreated on a gender and sexuality basis, and it fucking hurts, c) we should all stop thinking that because our demands are different we shouldn’t help each other; at the end of the day, we all suffer from the gender and sexual hegemonies of this world.

Though the Brazilian court decided a few months ago to recognizes the right for people within the T to change their name and gender marker with no other medical or legal requirement, no clerk is able to do that yet. They will not get the instructions on how to carry out the process for another six months.

Policies do not, unfortunately, translate into actions, and this is true to any country. It is in institutions that lots of their oppression as LGBT, our oppression, lies. We might have some of our reasons to fight to be different, but as gay phalluses we should not only speak up when a (micro)aggression is committed against us and our GGGG agenda. My silence, that is also your silence, feeds a culture full of (micro) aggressions. Letting (micro) aggressions happen create power dynamics by which folks in the gender and sexual hegemonic can utilize their position of privilege to oppress members of any kind under the LGBT umbrella. Let us not screw this up! Let’s not consciously create a hegemonic within ourselves as a group. I tell this to you. I tell this to myself. Rethink your ga(y)ze. When the time to speak up comes around next time, shut your gay phallus up and remember that we are not GGGG, we are LGBT.

*Names changed to preserve anonymity

- Luis David Rueda Molina '20

Boom, tum tum tum tum, boom by Jacob Longaker


Perla Figuereo '21 contributes our last post on Salvador da Bahia with thoughts on maracatu and Candomblé. Photos from the Candomblé ceremony we attended are available on Facebook.


On May 5th, our last full day in Salvador da Bahia, Afro-Brazil really came alive. Although throughout our week in Salvador, we were constantly exposed to what it means to be Afro-Brazilian or negro in Brazil, the last day allowed me to experience practices and rituals that closely tie Brazilians to their African roots.

We woke up early on that saturday morning and took a bus to Praça Dois de Julho (Largo do Campo Grande), where we met Josy Garcia. Josy is part of Maracatu Ventos de Ouro, a feminist Maracatu group, that promotes leadership among women, and allows for women to practice and lead Maracatu.

Josy spoke to us about the history of the feminist Maracatu group, and emphasized the rarity of an all women group. After the history lesson, she proceeded to describe each instrument and their functionality.

I was very excited to start playing, so I grabbed the alfaia, rope-tuned bass drum. I was shocked to see how hard it was. Keeping the beat was extremely hard. You start getting into the flow, and then you notice that you are speeding. Josy was very hard on us about keeping the beat and rhythm. Sem correr! Tá correndo! She said that our consistent beats are what carry the Maracatu. I could feel that when the instruments were meshing together, we felt this sense of unity. We were one.

This made me think of how this musical practice came to be. This sense of unity was probably very important for the slaves that were brought over to Brazil. In times were they were not treated as humans and their rights were stripped, this sense of unity to each other probably became a mode of comfort, of home. Because of this, I felt that I  needed to honor this beat that was unifying all of us, even if it was hard.

s33 students prepare for a Candomblé ceremony by wearing traditional white dress.

s33 students prepare for a Candomblé ceremony by wearing traditional white dress.

At night, we visited an elaborate terreiro de Candomblé in nearby city Lauro de Freitas. When we arrived at the terreiro, the vibe was very different than other parts of Brazil. The place was very quiet, everyone looked like they knew each other, and there were a lot of black and brown bodies that appeared to be in positions of power in the religion.

When the celebration started, I felt very out of place. I felt a lot of the older black women’s eyes on me. This made me feel as if they were trying to figure out my place in this place. After getting over the stares, I was able to focus on the ceremony. I noticed that drums were what carried the celebration. The men who were playing the drums looked like they were feeling the music. They were smiling and feeling every beat that they played. This made me think of what we did earlier in the morning. The importance of the drum was breathtaking. From the dancing, to the singing, to even when people clapped, all was led by the drums.

Kyle Larry '21, Miranda Padilla '19, Sebastián Gallegos '19, and Maya Church '20 await our van to Lauro de Freitas.

Kyle Larry '21, Miranda Padilla '19, Sebastián Gallegos '19, and Maya Church '20 await our van to Lauro de Freitas.

Ellie Friends '21 and Perla Figuereo '21 strike a pose on the coast of Salvador.

Ellie Friends '21 and Perla Figuereo '21 strike a pose on the coast of Salvador.

This ceremony and the drumming session we had earlier that day, was just a small example of the complexity of blackness and black culture. It is amazing to see how many different aspects make a culture. But, what I realized the most is that blackness is so diverse. These traditions that we were part of were just a small portion that is not representative of the thousands of differences in what we consider blackness.

Throughout my last day in Salvador, I was also reflecting on my identity as a black woman. Though I consider myself an Afro-Latina, I still do not find myself having the connection that a lot of Afro-Brazilians have with their roots. I envied this closeness, but instead of feeling bad about it, I decided to embrace the exposure I had to the culture.

 

Bahia in Progression: The Future of HIV/AIDS and Trans Activism in Salvador by Jacob Longaker

Check out a reflection by Ashley Cleary '19 on our last field excursions in Salvador da Bahia!


Salvador has continued to be an immersive and beautiful look at the politics of the LGBT community in Brazil. On May 4th, our day of activism education included visits to Grupo de Apoio à Prevenção à AIDS (GAPA), an organization dedicated to HIV and AIDS prevention located in Pelourinho, and a visit to the Centro de Promoção e Defesa dos Direitos LGBT da Bahia (Casarão), a new center for travestis and members of the LGBT community in Bahia, along with a discussion lead by prominent travesti activists Keila Simpson and Symmy Larrat. GAPA and Casarão offered a sobering of the activists fighting for the LGBT community in position to the ravage violence that plagues Brazil, particularly the state of Bahia.

Our time at GAPA painted a humanized picture of the HIV/AIDS crisis in Bahia. While HIV/AIDS has become much less of an epidemic in the United States and Europe during the twenty first century, it remains an incredibly prevalent and unforgiving problem in Brazil, particularly in Bahia. The state of Bahia is strongly connected to the African slave trade, and while beautiful roots of the African culture still exist, the marginalization of non-white people, poverty and violence against the LGBT community still run rampant. At GAPA, we met with Rosa Marinho, who has been with the organization for over 30 years and provided us a detailed and personal look at the history of the work they have done. During its formation in the early 1980s, GAPA partnered with the Grupo Gay da Bahia (GGB) to work on the preventive efforts of HIV/AIDS which had run a devastating course through Bahia, particular the LGBT community. In 1996, GAPA launched its first major project where it trained “multipliers” to spread information to within the LGBT community, including popular hangout spots (saunas, movie theaters, cruising areas), that addressed HIV prevention through condom use, knowledge and violence defense. The highly stigmatized nature of the disease and the labeling of it by media as a “gay illness” led, and still leads, many people to not seek diagnoses or treatments.

We were welcomed by Rosa Marinho (1st from left), a longtime activist and health professional with GAPA

We were welcomed by Rosa Marinho (1st from left), a longtime activist and health professional with GAPA

HIV/AIDS still remains an overwhelming problem in Bahia. According to GAPA, at any given time, half the beds in a disease unit of the hospital are filled with AIDS patients. Many people do not seek help until they are in the late stages of AIDS, at death's door when not much can be done. Stigmatization, lack of knowledge and violence against the LGBT community all contribute to this problem in Bahia, Brazil, and the world as a whole. GAPA continues to fight for access to education and prevention even amongst adverse social and political conditions.

The opportunity to be in such a historic place that is doing so much to change the course of a disease that has taken way too many was so powerful. Despite the organizations tight resources, they welcomed us in with their time and insisted we stay for a full offering of guava juice and fruit, a testimony to their incredibly warm nature.

GAPA from the streets of downtown Pelourinho

GAPA from the streets of downtown Pelourinho

An HIV/AIDS poster on display in GAPA: zero discrimination

An HIV/AIDS poster on display in GAPA: zero discrimination

Our afternoon excursion took us by foot through Pelourinho to the Centro de Promoção e Defesa dos Direitos LGBT da Bahia, a brand new, first of its kind, government contracted center for the LGBT, particular the travesti and transexual communities, that will serve as a multi-functional space. World renowned travesti activist Keila Simpson met us on the street and lead us to the massive space that sits at the end on a relatively dangerous, but highly important, street in the Historic Center. The house itself is incredibly striking - a massive, three story open space, with many rooms for activities, health treatment and organizing. The space also has very significant historic value, as it served as a place that travestis would run to after being brutalized by the police in the 80s and 90s. It was a historic safe house and will now serve as so in a formal and highly organized capacity.

Our visit started with a group discussion led by Keila Simpson (middle left) and Symmy Larrat (middle right).

The Centro de Promoção e Defesa dos Direitos LGBT da Bahia is unprecedented in many ways. One of the most impactful is the fact that it is run by two travesti women, Keila Simpson and Symmy Larrat. In Brazil, travesti identity signifies highly stigmatized and vulnerable trans women who historically constructed female bodies through silicone injections and made a living through sex work - as separate section of the trans community and have different rights and needs than that of their transexual counterparts. During our prep for the course, we read Travesti, a dated book by anthropologist Don Kulick that explores the lives of travestis and centers around Keila Simpson (it is essentially her book). It was incredible to get to sit down and speak to Keila as she is one of the most prominent  trans activists in the world, and has done work with the UN, ILGA, and many other national and international projects. The women talked about the personal journeys as travestis, from working on the streets to activism to working in the government. Keila Simpson is currently President of ANTRA (The National Association of Travestis and Transexuals) and Symmy is currently president of the ABLGT (Brazilian Association for LGBT Rights). Keila and Symmy both emphasized that, notwithstanding state support for the large staff and space, it is their project. (When we were waiting to board our flight to Rio we saw both Keila and Symmy boarding a flight to Brasilia, the nation's capital, to do advocacy work. We were so excited to see them. These women are always working!)

We were given a tour of the facility and introduced to the many functions that it will serve. The dual goals of the center are to “protect and promote,” both giving protection to the incredibly vulnerable LGBT community and serving as a space to enrich culture and hold events. There will be an entire floor dedicated to helping victims of violence, including psychological counseling, social workers and legal support.

Symmy Larrat (on the right) leads us on a tour of the Casarão. Symmy Larrat heads the defense actions (preventing and addressing LGBT violence) at the Casarão.

Keila Simpson (left), Symmy Larrat (center), and Prof. Longaker (right) share a laugh during our talk.

s33 students shoot a traditional pose with the LGBT flag!

s33 students shoot a traditional pose with the LGBT flag!

A poster from ENTLAIDS 1995 that says "Citizenship Doesn't Have Correct Clothes." (Longaker)

While we were there, there was an older woman who sat to the side during our meeting. We later found out that she was a 71 year old trans woman who, like so many, used to be chased and brutalized by the police. The police would cut her hair off and pour hot tar on her bald scalp, an action that attempted to strip her of, and invalidate, her feminine gender identity. Stories like this are so common and way too often condoned by the community and police themselves. There are rare spaces of safety for this community, a community that struggles every second of every day just to exist. The Centro de Promoção e Defesa dos Direitos LGBT da Bahia (Casarão) is a huge step to resolving a huge problem. The scope of the violence and suffering that the LGB, travesti and transexual communities face is incomprehensible. Our trip has given us a small look into the lives of these people and shed light on how brutal it is to live in the body that you know to be most true.

- Ashley Cleary '19

Documenting violence against LGBTs by Jacob Longaker

Check out a reflection on the work of Grupo Gay da Bahia (GGB; Gay Group of Bahia) by Alexandra Gwillim '18!


Cristiano Santos of the GGB (Longaker)

On May 3rd, we visited the Grupo Gay da Bahia (GGB).We met with the GGB’s Vice President, Cristiano Santos, who has been a dedicated member of the organization for 24 years. Cris generously shared his time with our class and allowed us to sift through the organization’s archives, which included newspaper clippings, personal items, academic publications, and all sorts of material related to LGBT rights. I was struck by how generous Cris was, not only with his time, but with the resources and gifts he offered us (DVDs, pamphlets, publications, etc).

GGB Bulletin that reports on violence against LGBTs.

GGB publication detailing the methodology used to collect data on violence against LGBTs.

GGB publication detailing the methodology used to collect data on violence against LGBTs.

Founded in 1980 in Salvador da Bahia, the GGB was the first of its kind in Brazil to receive recognition as a civil society organization by the state. The GGB dedicates itself to defending the human rights for homosexuals in Brazil. Since 1981, the organization has collected data on LGBT violence in order to provide a record for those who are lost to the violence.

In their early years, they focused heavily on organizing for HIV/AIDS awareness and prevention programs. Cristiano Santos explained that this was in part due to the fact that in order for the organization to obtain financial resources, they had to focus on issues where there was money to be found. The GGB was able to receive funding more easily through international programs than from the Brazilian government, unless directly from the Ministry of Health. This is because the Brazilian government did not initially fund LGBT rights organizations on their own. Instead, activists had to organize and negotiate their focus strategically on HIV/AIDS in order to be able to survive.

The hostility of the government towards the LGBT community extends well beyond the issue of funding. Despite the fact that Brazil is the most dangerous country in the world for LGBT individuals, the government consistently resists acknowledging the danger they face, and the importance of recognizing that danger. Although specific protections for individual rights are built into the constitution, and gender based violence is prohibited by law, LGBT individuals suffer greater violence in Brazil than in countries with statutes mandating their execution. Trans women are disproportionately targeted, especially those with darker skin. According to the GGB, in 445 LGBTs were murdered in 2017; 142 LGBTs murders have been documented so far in 2018.

Whether it is the police, the state government, or a conservative religious voting bloc, the Brazilian government participates in the systematic erasure of LGBT violence. Without the GGB’s dedication to documenting the violence, data on violence against LGBT people in Brazil would not be collected.

- Alexandra Gwillim '18

Maracatu Ventos de Ouro by Jacob Longaker

Our group with Josy Garcia (2nd from left) of Maracatu Ventos de Ouro

We joined Josy Garcia of Maracatu Ventos de Ouro at the Largo do Campo Grande for a workshop on Afro Brazilian maracatu nação. The name was coined to describe spaces in which African slaves were permitted to congregate and interact on plantations. It was adopted in the 1700s to describe rhythmic techniques accompanied by dances and ceremonies that reenacted crowning of the royalty of the Congo. 

Coordinator Renan Ferreira on the alfaia

Largo do Campo Grande

Largo do Campo Grande

Prof. Longaker on the alfaia

The Maracatu Ventos de Ouro group is all female and oriented by a strong commitment to feminism. The first and only of its kind in Salvador Bahia, Josy started the group with the hope of creating a space where women lead, teach, and perform rhythmic techniques traditionally reserved for men. While the group is all female, workshops are open to male identified individuals, so long as they observe the rules of the space, practice active listening, and remain conscious not to reproduce masculine privilege. Josy hopes to deconstruct machismo and masculine privilege through these processes. 

Traditionally, only men were allowed to play the alfaia (drum) and women primarily played the agbê  (or xequerê, a gourd with a beaded cover). Maracatu also features the caixa (snare drum) and the gonguê (iron bell).  In Ventos do Ouro, women play all of the instruments. 

Josy was quick to note that our session would only scratch the surface of this art. The Three hours later, everyone agreed she was right! Check out the video below for our final performance!

Education through Experience, Knowledge through Identity by Jacob Longaker

Our second student post by Ellie Friends '21!


Today was a packed day in Salvador.  We headed out this morning after breakfast to the old downtown of Salvador, and had a look around a museum on Benin art and culture, before heading down the steep cobblestone streets to meet with Cristiano Santos (Cris), the vice-president of Grupo Gay de Bahia (GGB). After talking with Cris and exploring the GGB LGBT archives, we had lunch and took the metro to meet with Millena Passos, at the Secretaria de Políticas para as Mulheres da Bahia (SPM; Secretary for Women’s Policy for the State of Bahia).

What struck me from both our talk with Cris about the founding of GGB and our talk with Millena about occupying governmental space was the ways in which these activist individuals used their identities and experiences, as well as the experiences of others, as essential sources of knowledge in their fight for recognition, respect, and equity. Perhaps because of the amount of my life that I have spent learning in a classroom, I sometimes divert to academia as the place where individuals gain knowledge. I was interested by the ways that the activists we spoke with today had gained knowledge through their lives and experiences.

Posters on display at the Grupo Gay da Bahia (Ellie Friends '21)

Cris gave us an overview of GGB history and noted the way that the organization started through an anecdote that illustrates one of the ways that experience shapes activism and knowledge. The GGB was founded on February 28, 1980 and has been a leading LGBT organization in Brazil and internationally. Luiz Mott, who started the group, realized the need for a homosexual group in Bahia after being punched while visiting a famous lighthouse on the Salvador coast with his partner at the time.  When he went to the police for help after the assault, he was told that he could not file the incident because he had been in the wrong, since he was displaying homosexual behavior. There was no resource for him to go to after receiving this answer, so he set to work to create one.

Today, GGB runs through the work of volunteer activists who share Mott’s belief that the space and resources that GGB offers are important to Bahia and Brazil.  While Mott’s incident at the lighthouse was one of many moments of violence that homosexuals in Brazil have endured, his experience catalyzed the foundation of a group that has served as a resource for others with gay and homosexual identities. It also shaped a decision to keep an archival record of these offenses through magazines, photos, and newspaper clippings. That work continues online at https://homofobiamata.wordpress.com/.  

 

Campaign Respeita as Mina (Respect the Girls) by SPM (Jacob Longaker)

Campaign Respeita as Minas (Respect the Girls) with the slogan Não é não, Chega de Assédio (No is no! No more harassment) (Jacob Longaker)

Millena Passos was kind enough to share with us her experiences as a black trans woman in Salvador, as well as talk about her work with Secretaria de Políticas para as Mulheres da Bahia.  Both her work as an activist and her work with the governmental organization has been informed by, and conscious of, identity and experience as a source of knowledge. She left home at a young age and supported herself through prostitution.  Along the way, she forged bonds with other trans and queer people of color, and within this network, she created a supportive family. These experiences have helped Millena recognize the problems that trans and black women face in Bahia today, and she has extended her activism to recognize and work with communities of Brazilians facing different sets of intersectional challenges.

The commitment of SPM and Millena to seek knowledge through varied and intersection experiences appears in two recent policy projects Chefas de Familia. Millena and her colleagues surveyed female headed single income households across Bahia (where the woman is the only income earner). As Karla Ramos, the vice-secretary told us, they worked hard to survey women in both urban and rural areas, along coastal and river areas, disabled woman, women of color, indigenous women, white women, and women who identify outside of normative gender identities.

The individuals we talked to today utilized their own identity and what they had lived through as sources of knowledge. We were lucky that they were willing to share their time and stories with us. I was amazed by their personal stories and their courage in being voices of truth and activism, and I’m excited to see what else is in store for us in Salvador da Bahia!

- Ellie Friends '21

 

Bates students welcomed by Millena Passos (6th from left) and Karla Ramos (4rd from left) at the Secretary for Women's Policy of the State of Bahia (Jacob Longaker)

Bates students welcomed by Millena Passos (6th from left) and Karla Ramos (4rd from left) at the Secretary for Women's Policy of the State of Bahia (Jacob Longaker)

 

 

Unpacking our visit to Pelourinho by Jacob Longaker

One of our goals with short term is to prepare students for field research. As part of this, we congregate for 30 minute daily field note sessions, followed up by a group discussion. We've captured these on an audio recorder so that we can appreciate the experience in the years to come.

Listen to students unpack our visit to Pelourinho below!

 

Vidas Negras Importam! by Jacob Longaker

Check out our first student post from Genesis Paulino '21!


April 30, 2018.

This is the second day of short term in Brazil. Our first week is in Rio Vermelho, Salvador da Bahia. Today was such an amazing day that words can’t even express the amount of emotions that I have gone through already. We started the day off with taking the bus to a restaurant where we had lunch and then some amazing food. It was definitely nice to have to try something new.

As being a Latina myself, I have always been very curious of how does Brazil, a country whose native language is Portuguese fit into being a Latin American country? After having only been here for two days, I can see the amount of connection between other Latin American countries, along with the other connections to race and sexuality in the United States.

Today we visited two museums that showed and explained different historic times in Brazil. One was from a very historical landmark, the Igreja da Ordem Terceira de São Francisco, a Catholic church. The other was the MAFRO Museum Afro Brasiliero da UFBA - which had the most impact on me.  This institution defends and expresses Afro-Brazilian culture through paintings, objects and pictures.

One of the objects made the museum was of a black young boy behind bars. All I could think about was the issues that the United States is having with our black population as well. Looking at this picture, along with poems and art on in the museum, it’s as if I can truly feel the pain that has been inflicted on the black population.

In Intro to Gender and Sexuality course that I took my first semester of college, there was a section of the class on how institutions like these are a way of representing important issues in a country. Brazil may not have completely solved their issues in the Afro Brazilian community, but the museum is for sure a great start of acknowledging what was going on in the country. The museum is a way of them having a voice and standing in their own country.

For example, I am so surprised and I find so wonderful that natural hair has become so accepted in Salvador da Bahia. As a woman with the same hair type who sees issues from society in my own cultures - the Dominican Republic and the United States - Brazil certainly seems more progressive on this issue. I find that such a beautiful thing.

I love the culture, the food and the people of Brazil. I have learned so much about them already in just two days and I can’t wait to see what else there is to come in the next 3 weeks. 

- Genesis Paulino '21


Historic downtown - Pelourinho by Jacob Longaker

Our activities for April 30th took us to the Centro Histórico de Salvador.

We jumped a bus down to Praça da Sé and headed a few blocks over to Elevador Lacerda. Built in 1873, the elevator linked the lower city markets with upper city businesses and residences. After, we lunched at Senac in Pelourinho and explored the historical sites nearby. The square at Pelourinho was used for public whippings and punishments, primarily of African slaves. It was also the site for Michael Jacksons wildly popular collaboration with Olodum “They don’t care about us” in 1996. To this day, there’s still a storefront with lots of MJ swag and the song on endless repeat. 

The theme of our day was Colonial Brazil: Opulence and Exploitation. We juxtaposed the excessive wealth and power consolidated in the church Igreja da Ordem Terceira de São Francisco against the reality of slavery, violence, and injustice committed against black bodies - forcefully portrayed in a new installation at the Museu Afro Brasileiro da UFBA. We also began to look at the survival and resistance of African culture through capoeira and Candomblé.

Next up - a post by Genesis Paulino '21 on the days events!

Chegamos! We arrived! by Jacob Longaker

Woah, don’t let anyone fool you that its just a hop and a skip from Bates College in Lewiston, Maine to Salvador da Bahia, Brazil. We left at 2:00 EST and arrived at 4:30 p.m. EST! Long day of travel for all of us.

We’ve already racked up a few firsts for the group:

  1. Mini pão de queijo bowls (thumbs up from everyone) 
  2. Havaiana flip-flops duly equipped by everyone (thumbs up again) 
  3. Acarajé da Dinha - the famous bean fritter in Rio Vermelho
  4. Veveta! Famous singer/entertainer/queen of Brazil Ivete Sangalo held her own Carnaval de rua fora de época. We caught a bit of the festivities! 

That’s a lot to take in for day one!

 

E lá vamos nós! by Jacob Longaker

s33 Departure Bates.JPG

And just like that, we're off!

The first week of short term flew by with intensive sessions in the classroom to prepare for our trip. We looked at foundational texts on the construction of race, gender, and sexuality within Brazil, asking questions like "what makes one Brazilian, afinal das contas?"; "how have the land and peoples of Brazil been sexualized, racialized, and gendered over the years?" We also worked through classics like Beyond Carnival: Male Homosexuality in 20th Century Brazil (Green 1999) and Travesti (Kulick 1998). These texts were complemented with nightly screenings of Orfeu Negro (Camus 1959), Madame Satã (Aïnouz 2002), São Paulo em Hi-Fi (Steffen 2016), and Bombadeira (Carlos de Alencar 2007).

Next up, a long red eye flight to Guarulhos International Airport and an afternoon flight to Salvador da Bahia!

Welcome to our class blog! by Jacob Longaker

Seja bem-vindo ao nosso blog! Welcome to our class blog!

As part of our short-term off campus experience, our class will maintain a collaborative blog. Check back here for updates on a regular basis from faculty and students on the trip!

Curious what's in store? Here's a snippet from our course description:

INDS s33 Brazil in Watercolor: Sexuality Politics in the Tropics

Forever the country of the future, but never forgetful of the past, Brazil pushes forward through turbulent political times that threaten hard won progressive change. From Zumbí dos Palmares to Lei Afonso Arinos and Lei Maria da Penha to PL João W. Nery, Brazil boasts a rich tradition of engaging social justice through non-institutional and institutional avenues. This course analyzes the relationship between protest and policy through an investigation of sexuality movements and institutional responses to advocacy. Despite the saying that Brazil is not for amateurs, by the end of this course students will gain a deeper understanding of Brazilian politics, identity, and institutions - and even um pouquinho de português.

First, we investigate the historical and social bases for an intersectional identity politics of race, gender, and sexuality. Then, we ground our course and field experiences in sexuality movements that have emerged to champion the struggles of marginalized lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and trans identities (homens trans, mulheres transexuais, e travestis). We will meet with prominent social movement activists and nongovernmental organizations that promote LGBT rights and citizenship. Finally, we evaluate institutional responses – both successes and failures – to movement advocacy through field visits to participatory councils and policy machinery for LGBTs.

Our course will take us to three major centers of LGBT activism in Brazil: Salvador da Bahia, Rio de Janeiro, and São Paulo. In each, we will dive into experiential and embodied learning with the members of marginalized communities.

This course satisfies: Politics [Identities and Interests] | [Institutional Politics] | Latin American Studies | Gender & Sexuality Studies | GECs Queer Studies C009; Latin American Studies C072