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upworthy

gender equality

Justin Higuchi/Wikicommons

Lauren Mayberry performing with Chvrches at Hollywood Forever in Los Angeles, 2016



A fan of the Scottish synthpop band Chvrches got a bit more than he bargained for when he yelled to the stage.

"Marry me!" an unidentified man yelled out during a pause between songs.

"Pardon?" Chvrches singer Lauren Mayberry responded, prompting the man to shout out, "Marry me! Now!"


performance, crowds, hecklers, musicians

What it looks like to get told off from the stage.

GIFs from advancedfirefly.

But what's the big deal? It's not like he was serious. Well...

No, I sincerely doubt that the man in the crowd expected Mayberry to throw down her microphone and jump into his arms. Him saying "marry me" was probably more of a stand-in for "I like your music and respect you as a human being with boundaries!" (OK, maybe not that last bit.)

It's a little more complicated than that.

If you know a bit more about Chvrches' backstory, Mayberry's response makes a lot of sense.

Throughout the band's career, Mayberry has been outspoken against music industry sexism and online harassment.

In 2013, Mayberry posted a screenshot of a message sent to the band's Facebook page that read, "Could you pass this correspondence on to the cute singer, I think we'd make superior love together, and very much would like to take her to dinner." After responding, "No. That's disgusting," Mayberry was told it was a "very puritanical stance" to take.

Her response was simple: "Please stop sending us emails like this." In response, she received a slew of responses containing threats, twisted sexual fantasies, and general disregard for her existence as a human. That month, she penned an opinion piece for The Guardian, "I will not accept online misogyny.”

"But why should women 'deal' with this?"

Her post at The Guardian was a powerful rebuttal to anyone who has ever told her (or any female musician, for that matter) that she should just "deal with" harassment.

"I absolutely accept that in this industry there is comment and criticism. There will always be bad reviews: such is the nature of a free press and free speech. ... What I do not accept, however, is that it is all right for people to make comments ranging from 'a bit sexist but generally harmless' to openly sexually aggressive. That it is something that 'just happens.' Is the casual objectification of women so commonplace that we should all just suck it up, roll over and accept defeat? I hope not. Objectification, whatever its form, is not something anyone should have to 'just deal with.'"

Years later, the harassment continues. But Mayberry isn't giving up.

Earlier this year, Mayberry posted another screenshot of a message sent to one of the band's social media accounts on her personal Instagram page. The message, in which an anonymous voice from the Internet threatens to sexually assault Mayberry with a cheese grater, was posted alongside Mayberry's eloquent response.

"My band is lucky enough to have some of the most awesome, supportive and respectful fans in the world and we are so excited to be in the studio making an album to share with them. Yet, on a daily basis, we still receive communications like this. These people never learn that violence against women is unacceptable. But they also never learn that women will not be shamed and silenced and made to disappear. I am not going anywhere. So bring it on, motherfuckers. Let's see who blinks first."

So, in hindsight, maybe yelling "Marry me!" at Lauren Mayberry wasn't the best idea.

The man may have meant well, but combined with the sexualized messages from other fans and critics alike, it creates an atmosphere of uncomfortable, unwanted comments. It's a lot like street harassment: While the intention might have been to "compliment" someone, the effect can be something so completely different.

Watch Mayberry's showdown with the "Marry me" guy in the video below.

This article originally appeared on 10.05.15






All images provided by CARE & Cargill

The impact of the CARE and Cargill partnership goes beyond empowering cocoa farmers

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Cocoa, the key ingredient found in your favorite chocolate bar, has been a highly revered food product throughout human history. It’s been used for religious ceremonies in Peru, royal feasts in England and France, traded as currency for the ancient Mayans. And considering that many of us enjoy chocolate on a regular basis (mochas and candy bars, anyone?) it seems like that love is still going strong even today.

And if you are someone who looks forward to that sweet chocolate pick-me-up on a regular basis, you likely have the women of West Africa to thank.

Women like Barbara Sika Larweh, a mother of six who works as a cocoa farmer in Larwehkrom, a community located within the Sefwi Wiawso Municipality in the Western North Region of Ghana.

care, cargillMama Cash now empowers other women to gain independence

Nearly 60% of the world’s cocoa comes from both Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire, where Barbara and other mothers make up over half of the labor force. These female cocoa farmers shoulder the same physical burden as their male counterparts—all while also running households and paying for their children to go to school. And yet, they typically don’t receive equal income. Nor do they have access to the resources that could help them achieve financial independence.

Thankfully, positive changes are taking place. Barbara’s story exemplifies the impact of programs offered by CARE and Cargill, such as Village Savings and Loan Association (VSLA), which are small groups that offer low-interest loans to individuals living in poverty, helping them to build savings without going into devastating debt.

Through these initiatives, women, like Barbara, are equipped with vital knowledge like financial literacy to improve household incomes, sustainable agriculture practices that improve yields, and nutrition education to diversify their family’s diets.

“They came and trained me on the VSLA. I dedicated myself and volunteered so that I would be able to train my people, too,” Barbara explains.

Within the first year of using the programs, Barbara and the people she trained profited—earning her the nickname of “Mama Cash.”

This is no isolated event. In cocoa-growing communities supported by CARE and Cargill programming between 2019-2022, the number of households living below the national poverty line decreased by nearly 32% in Cote d’Ivoire and Ghana - as a direct result of increasing and diversifying income through using these programs.

Like Barbara, who today is an executive member of the Community Development Committee, more than 2.4 million women have used their success as entrepreneurs to transform into leaders and decision-makers within their communities. Whether it’s giving most of their earnings back to their families, reducing child labor, or exponentially increasing overall farm yields, the rippling effect is profound.

The impact of the CARE and Cargill partnership goes beyond empowering cocoa farmers. The joint initiatives have fostered progress on complex global issues related to social justice, such as gender equality, climate change, and food security. By improving access to quality nutrition, water, and hygiene, the joint programs have positively influenced the cocoa communities’ well-being.

Suddenly there’s a lot more to think about the next time you eat a candy bar.

Find out more about the important partnership between CARE and Cargill here.
Sesame Street/YouTube

Jesse Jackson talks to children on Sesame Street

Sesame Street is a national treasure.

I think we can all agree on that.

Sesame Street invented the idea that television could teach children, not just entertain them.

It taught kids letters and numbers and introduced them to talented and famous people, from Savion Glover to Kofi Annan.


But the curriculum on the Street was always bigger than counting and Weimaraners. From very early on, its creators showed the world as they dreamed it could be. Black people, white people, and furry blue monsters lived in the same neighborhood. At a time when people with Down Syndrome were regularly institutionalized, Jason Kingsley was a frequent guest. Moms breastfed their babies in public, and all anyone had to say about it was, "That's nice." The whole neighborhood knew enough sign language that they could talk with Linda. They welcomed a new neighbor with a song about how happy they were to have a new friend.

The most important message Sesame Street sent to its millions of young viewers was this: You matter. You are an important person. You are valuable.

In 1971, a young Jesse Jackson stood on the steps of 123 Sesame Street and got a bunch of kids to chant "I Am — Somebody," a poem by civil rights activist Rev. William Holmes Borders Sr.

These kids chant a message that we should give to every kid on earth.

Did I say kid? I mean human.

I may be poor. But I am Somebody!
I may be young. But I am Somebody!
I may make a mistake. But I am Somebody!
I must be respected, protected, never rejected.
I am God's child.
I am Somebody!

So say it loud. And pass it to someone who needs a reminder that they are Somebody.

P.S. Are you dying to learn a thousand wonderful facts about Sesame Street's origin story? I highly recommend "Street Gang: The Complete History of Sesame Street" by Michael Davis. I'll never watch the show the same way again.

This article originally appeared on 04.27.15


Identity

Iranian woman sings solo in historic mosque, defying law against women singing in public

The single finger she raised to the man who approached to stop her said, "Nope, not until I'm finished."

A woman courageously sings solo in Esfahan. Singing in public is forbidden for women in Iran.

Just before the historic 1848 Woman’s Rights Convention in Seneca Falls, New York, a woman on the other side of the globe was making her own call for women's rights. Tahirih, a Persian theologian, poet and social activist, walked into a gathering of men without wearing her veil. While a veilless woman hardly seems notable to Western sensibilities, in 19th-century Persia—what is now Iran—it was an unspeakable act of heresy.

Baring her full face, Tahirih boldly proclaimed that the day of the equality of men and women had arrived. Gender equality was a core tenet of the Babí faith she had embraced, and she would be executed for it just four years later—choked to death with her own scarf, her body unceremoniously tossed into a well.

But her reported final words echo to the present day: "You can kill me as soon as you like, but you will never stop the emancipation of women."


Nearly two centuries later, the women of Iran are still fighting for their emancipation from oppressive laws. We've seen waves of protests in the streets since the death of Mahsa Amini in September 2022, with women demanding the right to choose whether or not to wear the hijab, the Islamic head covering, without fearing for their lives.

The current Islamist regime enacted the hijab law in 1983, the same year the Iranian government publicly hanged 10 Bahá'í women—most of whom were in their 20s, one only 17—for refusing to recant their faith. Those executions, conducted one by one so the women were forced to watch each other die, showed the lengths the regime would go to in their extremism, drew condemnation from around the world and further demonstrated the courage and fortitude of Iranian women who refuse to bend to injustice.

Acts of civil disobedience are dangerous for women in Iran to this day, but that hasn't stopped them from happening. In a video shared by Iranian-American journalist Masih Alinejad on Twitter, we see a woman standing in what Alinejad shared is in one of Esfahan's historic mosques. All the woman is doing is singing, but that alone is a crime in Iran, where the government has forbidden women from singing in public.

This woman insists that her beautiful voice be heard, however. Even when a man approaches to stop her, she doesn't skip a beat. Rather, she continues her chanting while holding up her finger as if to say, "Nope. You will wait until I'm finished." Incredibly, he immediately backs off in the face of her calm confidence and courage.

Watch and listen:

In a country where women have been killed for daring to question authority and challenge the status quo, such an act of defiance is all the more impressive. According to ClassicFM, the woman was singing a poem from the Sufi tradition, a mystical form of Islam that gave us the widely beloved poetry of Rumi and Hafiz.

People in the comments responded with awe at the woman's voice and the way she commanded respect with her very presence.

Iranian women have a long history of using their voices—and their actions—to proclaim their inherent right to freedom. And until their basic human rights are secured for good, the rest of the world will continue to stand with them in support and solidarity.