• Johnny Depp sort vainqueur de son procès en diffamation contre Amber Heard | Mediapart
    https://www.mediapart.fr/journal/international/020622/johnny-depp-sort-vainqueur-de-son-proces-en-diffamation-contre-amber-heard

    « Une tactique destinée à bâillonner les victimes ? »

    « C’est très inquiétant, pour le futur du mouvement #MeToo, que la diffamation puisse être utilisée comme une tactique destinée à bâillonner les victimes », explique Jamie Abrams à Mediapart. « La question, poursuit-elle, est de savoir quel impact aura ce procès sur la serveuse du café du coin ou l’étudiante à l’université qui envisagent de dénoncer leurs agresseurs mais n’auraient pas les moyens financiers de faire face à d’éventuelles poursuites judiciaires. »

    Selon les estimations de Time’s Up, l’une des principales organisations du mouvement #MeToo, qui soutient financièrement les victimes de harcèlement sexuel sur leur lieu de travail, sur les 193 affaires portées par l’organisation, 33 ont déjà donné lieu à des poursuites en diffamation.

    Le risque que le procès Heard vs Depp « fasse jurisprudence » n’est par conséquent pas négligeable, estime Jamie Abrams. D’autant que d’autres grands procès médiatiques du même genre s’apprêtent à avoir lieu aux États-Unis, dans l’affaire de pédocriminalité liée au financier new-yorkais Jeffrey Epstein par exemple, mais aussi dans deux affaires d’agressions sexuelles présumées visant l’ancien président Donald Trump.

    Pour la professeure de droit Jamie Abrams, le recours à la diffamation par les présumés agresseurs apparaît pourtant à première vue voué à l’échec. Contrairement à la France, grâce entre autres à la protection constitutionnelle qui garantit la libre expression, il est difficile de remporter de telles affaires de diffamation aux États-Unis. « Pour remporter son procès, il faudrait que Johnny Depp prouve trois choses : que les affirmations avancées par son ex-femme dans le Washington Post sont fausses, qu’il y avait une intention précise de nuire de façon malicieuse mais aussi qu’il y a un lien de cause à effet entre la publication de la tribune et le préjudice subi. »

    Seuls les jurés, sept citoyens, auront l’autorité de trancher. À Londres, dans la précédente affaire de diffamation, la décision était revenue à un seul juge professionnel.

    Mais à la barre, à Fairfax, quelle que soit l’issue du procès, Johnny Depp a déjà changé le récit et gagné le cœur d’Internet. Malgré la dizaine d’incidents graves de violence décrits par Amber Heard (des gifles, des bousculades, des cheveux arrachés, des étranglements, etc.), presque une quinzaine d’incidents au total répartis sur un peu plus de quatre ans, y compris des accusations de viol, l’acteur a régulièrement fait rire le public, installé non loin des sept jurés.

    #violences_masculines

  • Amber Heard et le remake du mythe de la Méduse | Le Club
    https://blogs.mediapart.fr/preparez-vous-pour-la-bagarre/blog/250522/amber-heard-et-le-remake-du-mythe-de-la-meduse

    Malgré le fait que 12 épisodes d’agression ont été prouvés et confirmés par trois juges (et on sait à quel point la loi privilégie les hommes blancs et riches — pour qu’un homme aussi puissant que Depp perde, la situation devait être très grave), malgré les photos, malgré les déclarations de maquilleur.euse.s et de coiffeur.euse.s sur les blessures camouflées par leurs soins, malgré les témoignages d’employé.e.s, malgré les courageuses allégations de viol, malgré les vidéos où l’on voit Depp maltraiter Heard psychologiquement, et malgré une montagne de preuves disponible sur le site web du tribunal, le public reste persuadé que Heard est coupable, simplement parce qu’elle s’est défendue.

    Contrôler le récit

    Au fond, en engageant ces poursuites pour diffamation alors que toutes les preuves sont contre lui, Johnny Depp souhaite une seule chose : contrôler le récit. Peu importe s’il perd à nouveau devant un tribunal, ce qui compte c’est de sauver sa carrière en manipulant l’opinion publique contre Amber Heard.

    Et j’en reviens donc à Méduse. Le dieu la viole, et c’est elle qui est punie, transformée en être détestable qui détruit la vie de quiconque croise son chemin. C’est ce qu’on entend et ce qu’on lit partout dans les médias et sur les réseaux sociaux à propos d’Amber Heard. Pourtant, ce qui est intéressant, dans la légende de Méduse, c’est que la déesse Athéna est celle qui juge et punit Méduse, alors que les autres dieux et déesses gardent le silence. Poséïdon la viole, mais c’est Athéna qui punit Méduse. Nous devons arrêter de protéger les hommes qui agressent et violent les femmes, sous prétexte que ce sont des « dieux », ou parce que la femme semble être la méchante de l’histoire. Si nous laissons les femmes qui dénoncent leurs agresseurs passer pour des méchantes, alors nous risquons de toutes devenir des Méduse.

  • Les Experts à #ambert : saison 1, épisode 2
    https://nantes.indymedia.org/articles/43956

    Dans les épisodes précédents, on évoquait le fait que la juge d’instruction avait émis des « ordonnances #de commissions expertales » afin de faire analyser les matériels informatiques et biologiques saisis lors des perquisitions (voir À propos de communication publique, de silence obstiné et de tricot policier). Les résultats de l’expertise sont désormais connus et, la nécessité de les rendre publics paraissant évidente, ce texte évoquera les quelques éléments qui nous semblent les plus significatifs.

    #Répression #/ #prisons #centres #rétention #anti-repression #Répression,/,prisons,centres,de,rétention,anti-repression

  • [Limoges, #Toulouse, #Ambert, #Grenoble, …] Répandre notre rage, toujours
    https://fr.squat.net/2018/11/27/limoges-toulouse-ambert-grenoble-repandre-notre-rage-toujours

    Un été en enfer Le long été 2017 a été brûlant. Enedis, filiale d’EDF chargée de la gestion du réseau électrique, a été particulièrement touchée. Le 18 mai, pour « fêter » l’anniversaire de la bagnole de flic incendiée quai de Valmy, un utilitaire de cette entreprise flambe à Rennes. Puis, une douzaine de ses […]

    #actions_directes #Limoges #perquisition #prison

  • Built and Deployed an #amber App in 2 days
    https://hackernoon.com/built-and-deployed-an-amber-app-in-2-days-95be52887922?source=rss----3a8

    Yesterday night, I deployed my first Amber app to production. It’s a JSON hosting service for your mobile and web apps. I call it JSON Keeper.The app is very simple and straightforward right now. It only has one screen with no user accounts. You simply go to the site, paste your JSON and receive a URL where it’ll be hosted.Building the app was very similar to Rails experience. Amber has the good old MVC structure, and regularly spits out response in microseconds.It took me some time to internalize that it is reporting things in microseconds. I kept comparing the response time of Amber app to a Rails app. This was a bit disappointing as I saw 300ms for Rails and 300 µs for Amber app.Later when I looked closely at the unit of time did it all make sense.Developing this app was a refreshing (...)

    #deployment #amber-app #crystal-lang #build-an-amber-app

  • #Toulouse : soirée anti-rép’ en soutien aux anarchistes inculpéEs, perquisitionnéEs, incarcéréEs à Toulouse, Limoges et #Ambert
    https://fr.squat.net/2018/05/16/toulouse-soiree-anti-rep-obs

    Samedi 19 mai à partir de 21h à l’Obs, 87 rue du 10 avril, à Toulouse. Bouffe vegan, bar et DJ set ! Prix libre. C’était il y a plus d’un mois, les 27 et 28 mars, sept lieux sont perquisitionnés à Toulouse, Limoges, Amiens et Ambert. Suite à ça, neufs gardes-à-vue ont suivi et trois […]

    #prison

    • ’National day of shame’ : #David_Lammy criticises treatment of Windrush generation

      Labour MP says situation has come about because of the hostile environment that begun under Theresa May, as he blames a climate of far-right rhetoric. People who came to the UK in the 1950s and 60s are now concerned about whether they have a legal right to remain in the country. The government has admitted that some people from the Windrush generation had been deported in error, as Theresa May appeared to make a U-turn on the issue Some Windrush immigrants wrongly deported, UK admits.

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfy1mDdNtEQ

    • Amber Rudd’s resignation letter in full and the Prime Minister’s response

      Amber Rudd has resigned as home secretary amid increasing pressure over the way the Home Office handled immigration policy.

      Her resignation came after leaked documents undermined her claims she was unaware of the deportation targets her officers were using.

      Downing Street confirmed Theresa May had accepted Ms Rudd’s resignation on Sunday night. She is the fifth cabinet minister to have left their position since the Prime Minister called the snap election in June 2017.

      https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/amber-rudd-resignation-letter-full-transcript-windrush-scandal-theres

    • Black history is still largely ignored, 70 years after Empire Windrush reached Britain

      Now, 70 years and three to four generations later, the legacy of those who arrived on the Windrush and the ships that followed is being rightly remembered – albeit in a way which calls into question how much their presence, sacrifices and contributions are valued in Britain.

      https://theconversation.com/black-history-is-still-largely-ignored-70-years-after-empire-windru
      #histoire #mémoire

    • Chased into ’self-deportation’: the most disturbing Windrush case so far

      As Amelia Gentleman reflects on reporting one of the UK’s worst immigration scandals, she reveals a new and tragic case.

      In the summer of 2013, the government launched the peculiarly named Operation Vaken, an initiative that saw vans drive around six London boroughs, carrying billboards that warned: “In the UK illegally? Go home or face arrest.” The billboards were decorated with pictures of handcuffs and the number of recent immigration arrests (“106 arrests last week in your area”). A line at the bottom adopted a softer tone: “We can help you to return home voluntarily without fear of arrest or detention.”

      The Conservatives’ 2010 manifesto promise to reduce migration to the tens of thousands had been going badly. It was time for ministers to develop new ways of scaring immigrants into leaving and for the government’s hostile environment policy to get teeth. More than 170,000 people, many of them living in this country legally, began receiving alarming texts, with warnings such as: “Message from the UK Border Agency: you are required to leave the UK as you no longer have the right to remain.”

      The hope was that the Home Office could get people to “self-deport”, frightening them into submission. In this, politicians appeared to have popular support: a YouGov poll at the time showed that 47% of the public approved of the “Go home” vans. The same year, Home Office vehicles began to be marked clearly with the words “Immigration Enforcement”, to alert people to the hovering presence of border guards.

      Operation Vaken ran for just one month, and its success was limited. A Home Office report later found that only 11 people left the country as a result; it also revealed that, of the 1,561 text messages sent to the government’s tip-off hotline, 1,034 were hoaxes – taking up 17 hours of staff time.

      Theresa May’s former adviser Nick Timothy later tried to argue that the vans had been opposed by the prime minister and were only approved while she was on holiday. But others who worked on the project insisted that May had seen the wording on the vans and requested that the language be toughened up. Meanwhile, the Immigration Enforcement vehicles stayed, with their yellow fluorescent stripes and black-and-white checks, a sinister presence circling areas of high migration. Gradually, the broader strategy of intimidation began to pay off. Some people were frightened into leaving.
      Guardian Today: the headlines, the analysis, the debate - sent direct to you
      Read more

      In my two years of reporting on what became known as the Windrush scandal, Joycelyn John’s experience was the most disturbing case I came across. Joycelyn arrived in London in 1963 at the age of four, travelling with her mother on a Grenadian passport as a British subject. She went to primary and secondary school in Hammersmith, west London, before working in hotels in the capital – including the Ritz and a Hilton.

      Some time around 2009, she lost her Grenadian passport, which contained the crucial stamp giving her indefinite leave to remain. She had trouble getting a new passport, because her mother had married and changed her daughter’s surname from Mitchell to John. Because she never registered the change, there was a discrepancy between Joycelyn’s birth certificate and the name she had used all her adult life. She spent several years attempting to sort out her papers, but by 2014, aged 55, she had been classified as living in Britain illegally. She lost her job and was unable to find new work. For a while, she lived in a homeless hostel, but she lost her bed, because the government does not normally fund places for people classified as illegal immigrants. She spent two years staying with relatives, sleeping on sofas or the floor.

      In that time, Joycelyn managed to gather 75 pages of evidence proving that she had spent a lifetime in the UK: bank statements, dentists’ records, medical files, tax records, letters from her primary school, letters from friends and family. But, inexplicably, this was not enough. Every letter she received from the Home Office warned her that she was liable to be deported to Grenada, a country she had left more than 50 years ago. She began to feel nervous about opening the door in case immigration officers were outside.

      A Home Office leaflet encouraging people to opt for a voluntary departure, illustrated with cheerful, brightly coloured planes and published about the same time as the “Go Home” vans were launched, said: “We know that many people living in the UK illegally want to go home, but feel scared of approaching the Home Office directly. They may fear being arrested and detained. For those returning voluntarily, there are these key benefits: they avoid being arrested and having to live in detention until a travel document can be obtained; they can leave the UK in a more dignified manner than if their removal is enforced.” This appeal to the desire for a dignified departure was a shrewd tactic; the idea of being forcibly taken away terrified Joycelyn, who saw the leaflets and knew of the vans. “There’s such stigma... I didn’t want to be taken off the plane in handcuffs,” she says. She was getting deeper into debt, borrowing money from a younger brother, and felt it was no longer fair to rely on him.

      When the hostile environment policy is working well, it exhausts people into submission. It piles up humiliations, stress and fear until people give up. In November 2016, Joycelyn finally decided that a “voluntary” departure would be easier than trying to survive inside the ever-tightening embrace of Home Office hostility. Officials booked her on a flight on Christmas Day; when she asked if she could spend a last Christmas with her brother and five sisters, staff rebooked her for Boxing Day. She was so desperate that she felt this was the best option. “I felt ground down,” she says. “I lost the will to go on fighting.”

      By that point, she estimated she must have attempted a dozen times to explain to Home Office staff – over the phone, in person, in writing – that they had made a mistake. “I don’t think they looked at the letters I wrote. I think they had a quota to fill – they needed to deport people.” She found it hard to understand why the government was prepared to pay for her expensive flight, but not to waive the application fee to regularise her status. A final letter told her: “You are a person who is liable to be detained... You must report with your baggage to Gatwick South Virgin Atlantic Airways check-in desk.” The letter resorted to the favoured Home Office technique of scaring people with capital letters, reminding her that in her last few weeks: “YOU MAY NOT ENTER EMPLOYMENT, PAID OR UNPAID, OR ENGAGE IN ANY BUSINESS OR PROFESSION.” It also informed her that her baggage allowance, after a lifetime in the UK, was 20kg – “and you will be expected to pay for any excess”.

      How do you pack for a journey to a country you left as a four-year-old? “I was on autopilot,” Joycelyn recalls. “I was feeling depressed, lonely and suicidal. I wasn’t able to think straight; at times, I was hysterical. I packed the morning I left, very last-minute. I’d been expecting a reprieve. I didn’t take a lot – just jeans and a few T-shirts, a toothbrush, some Colgate, a towel – it didn’t even fill the whole suitcase.” She had £60 to start a new life, given to her by an ex-boyfriend. She had decided not to tell her sisters she was going; she confided only in her brother. “I just didn’t want any fuss.” She didn’t expect she would ever be allowed to return to Britain.

      In Grenada, she found everything unfamiliar. She had to scrub her clothes by hand and struggled to cook with the local ingredients. “It’s just a completely different lifestyle. The culture is very different.” She was given no money to set her up and found getting work very difficult. “You’re very vulnerable if you’re a foreigner. There’s no support structure and no one wants to employ you. Once they hear an English accent – forget it. They’re suspicious. They think you must be a criminal if you’ve been deported.”

      Joycelyn recounts what happened to her in a very matter-of-fact way, only expressing her opinion about the Home Office’s consistent refusal to listen when I ask her to. But her analysis is succinct: “The way I was treated was disgusting.” I still find it hard to accept that the government threatened her until she felt she had no option but to relocate to an unfamiliar country 4,300 miles away. The outcome – a 57-year-old Londoner, jettisoned to an island off the coast of Venezuela, friendless and without money, trying to make a new life for herself – is as absurd as it is tragic.

      *

      In April 2018, the leaders of 52 countries arrived in London for the Commonwealth heads of government meeting. The Mall was decorated with flags; caterers at Buckingham Palace prepared for tea parties and state dinners. In normal times, this summit would have been regarded as a routine diplomatic event, heavy with ceremony and light on substance. But, with Brexit looming, the occasion was seen as an important opportunity to woo the countries on which Britain expected to become increasingly reliant.

      A week before the event, however, the 12 Caribbean high commissioners had gathered to ask the British government to adopt a more compassionate approach to people who had arrived in the UK as children and were never formally naturalised. “I am dismayed that people who gave their all to Britain could be discarded so matter-of-factly,” said Guy Hewitt, the Barbados high commissioner. “Seventy years after Windrush, we are again facing a new wave of hostility.”

      Hewitt revealed that a formal request to meet May had been declined. The rebuff convinced the Caribbean leaders that the British government had either failed to appreciate the scale and seriousness of what was happening or, worse, was aware, but did not view it as a priority. It smacked of racism.

      By then, I had been covering cases such as Joycelyn’s for six months. I had written about Paulette Wilson, a 61-year-old grandmother who had been detained by the Home Office twice and threatened with deportation to Jamaica, a country she had left half a century earlier; about Anthony Bryan, who after 50 years in the UK was wrongly detained for five weeks; and about Sylvester Marshall, who was denied the NHS radiotherapy he needed for prostate cancer and told to pay £54,000 for treatment, despite paying taxes here for decades. Yet no one in the government had seemed concerned.

      I contacted Downing Street on 15 April to ask if they could explain the refusal to meet the Caribbean delegation. An official called back to confirm that a meeting had not been set up; there would be other opportunities to meet the prime minister and discuss this “important issue”, she said.

      It was a huge mistake. An article about the diplomatic snub went on the Guardian’s front page and the political response was instantaneous. Suddenly, ministers who had shown no interest were falling over themselves to express profound sorrow. The brazen speed of the official turnaround was distasteful to watch. Amber Rudd, then the home secretary, spoke in parliament to express her regret. The Home Office would establish a new team to help people gather evidence of their right to be here, she announced; fees would be waived. The prime minister decided that she did, after all, need to schedule a meeting with her Caribbean colleagues.

      There were a number of factors that forced this abrupt shift. The campaigner Patrick Vernon, whose parents emigrated from Jamaica in the 50s, had made a critical connection between the scandal and the upcoming 70th anniversary of the arrival of the Empire Windrush at Tilbury Docks. A fortnight earlier, he had launched a petition that triggered a parliamentary debate, calling for an immigration amnesty for those who had arrived as British subjects between 1948 and 1971. For months, I had been describing these people as “Caribbean-born, retirement-age, long-term British residents”, a clunky categorisation that was hard to put in a headline. But Vernon’s petition succinctly called them the “Windrush generation” – a phrase that evoked the emotional response that people feel towards the pioneers of migration who arrived on that ship. Although it was a bit of a misnomer (those affected were the children of the Windrush generation), that branding became incredibly potent.

      After months of very little coverage, the BBC and other media outlets began to report on the issue. On 16 April, the Guardian reprinted the photographs and stories of everyone we had interviewed to date. The accounts were undeniable evidence of profound and widespread human suffering. It unleashed political chaos.

      *

      It was exciting to see the turmoil caused by the relentless publication of articles on a subject that no one had previously wanted to think about. Everyone has moments of existential doubt about whether what they do serves a purpose, but, for two weeks last April, the government was held to account and forced to act, demonstrating the enormous power of journalism to trigger change.

      At the Guardian’s offices in London, a team of reporters was allocated to interview the huge number of emerging Windrush voices. Politicians were contacted by constituents who had previously been nervous about giving their details to officials; they also belatedly looked through their constituency casebooks to see if there were Windrush people among their immigration caseload; finally, they began to speak up about the huge difficulties individuals were facing as a result of Home Office policy.

      Editors put the story on the front page, day after day. Any hope the government might have had of the issue quickly exhausting itself was dashed repeatedly by damaging new revelations. For a while, I was unable to get through my inbox, because there were too many unhappy stories about the government’s cruel, bureaucratic mishandling of cases to be able to read and process. Caroline Bannock, a senior journalist who runs the Guardian’s community team, created a database to collect people’s stories, and made sure that everyone who emailed got an answer, with information on where to go for advice and how to contact the Windrush Taskforce, set up by Rudd.

      I found the scale of the misery devastating. One morning, I came into work to find 24 messages on my answerphone from desperate people, each convinced I could help. I wanted to cry at my desk when I opened a letter from the mother of a young woman who had arrived in Britain from Jamaica in 1974, aged one. In 2015, after being classified as an illegal immigrant and sent to Yarl’s Wood detention centre, she had taken an overdose and died. “Without the time she spent in Yarl’s Wood, which we understand was extremely unpleasant, and the threat of deportation, my daughter would be alive today,” she wrote. The government had been aiming to bring down immigration at any cost, she continued. “One of the costs, as far as I am concerned, was my daughter’s life.”

      Alongside these upsetting calls and letters, there were many from readers offering financial support to the people we interviewed, and from lawyers offering pro bono assistance. A reader sent a shoebox full of chocolate bars, writing that he wanted to help reporters keep their energy levels up. At a time when the reputation of journalism can feel low, it was rewarding to help demonstrate why independent media organisations are so important.

      If the scene at the office was a smooth-running model of professionalism, at home it was chaos. I wrote until 2am and got up at 5am to catch up on reading. I tapped out so many articles over two weeks that my right arm began to ache, making it hard to sleep. My dictaphone overheated from overuse and one of its batteries exploded. I had to retreat entirely from family life, to make sure I poured out every bit of information I had. Shoes went missing, homework was left undone, meals were uncooked. There was an unexpected heatwave and I was aware of the arrival of a plague of ants, flies and fleas (and possibly nits), but there was no time to deal with it.

      I am married to Jo Johnson, who at the time was a minister in May’s government. As a news reporter, I have to be politically independent; I let him get on with his job and he doesn’t interfere in mine. Life is busy and mostly we focus on the day-to-day issues that come with having two children. Clearly, there are areas of disagreement, but we try to step around anything too contentious for the sake of family harmony.

      But the fact did not go unnoticed. One Sunday morning, Jo had to go on television to defend Rudd, returning home at lunchtime to look after the children so I could talk on the radio about how badly the government had got it wrong. I can see why it looks weird from the outside; that weekend it felt very weird. I had only one brief exchange about the issue with his brother Boris, who was then the foreign secretary, at a noisy family birthday party later in the year. He said: “You really fucked the Commonwealth summit.”

      *

      On 25 April, Rudd appeared in front of the home affairs select committee. She told MPs she had been shocked by the Home Office’s treatment of Paulette and others. Not long into the session, Rudd was thrown off course by a question put to her by the committee’s chair, Yvette Cooper. “Targets for removals. When were they set?”

      “We don’t have targets for removals,” she replied with easy confidence. It was an answer that ended her career as home secretary.

      In an earlier session, Lucy Moreton, the head of the Immigration Service Union, had explained how the Home Office target to bring net migration below 100,000 a year had triggered challenging objectives; each region had a removal target to meet, she said. Rudd’s denial seemed to indicate either that she was incompetent and unaware of how her own department worked, or that she was being dishonest. Moreton later told me that, as Rudd was giving evidence, colleagues were sending her selfies taken in front of their office targets boards.

      Rudd was forced back to parliament the next day. This time, she admitted that the Home Office had set local targets, but insisted: “I have never agreed there should be specific removal targets and I would never support a policy that puts targets ahead of people.” But, on 29 April, the Guardian published a private memo from Rudd to May, sent in early 2017, that revealed she had set an “ambitious but deliverable” target for an increase in enforced deportations. Later that evening, she resigned.

      When I heard the news, I felt ambivalent; Rudd hadn’t handled the crisis well, but she wasn’t responsible for the mess. She seemed to be resigning on a technicality, rather than admitting she had been negligent and that her department had behaved atrociously on her watch. The Windrush people I spoke to that night told me Rudd’s departure only shifted attention from the person who was really responsible: Theresa May.

      *

      Joycelyn John was issued with a plane ticket from Grenada to England in July 2018. “A bit of me was ecstatic, a bit of me was angry that no one had listened to me in the first place,” she told me when we met at her still-bare flat in June this year. She had been rehoused in September, but the flat was outside London, far from her family and empty; council officials didn’t think to provide any furniture. Friends gave her a bed and some chairs, but it was months before she was able to get a fridge.

      In late 2018, she received a letter of apology from the then home secretary, Sajid Javid. “People of the Windrush generation who came to Britain from the Commonwealth, as my parents did, have helped make this country what it is today,” he wrote. “The experiences faced by you and others have been completely unacceptable.” The letter made her cry, but not with relief. “I thought: ‘What good is a letter of apology now?’ They ruined my life completely. I came back to nothing. I have had to start rebuilding my life from scratch at the age of 58.”

      She still has nightmares that she is back in Grenada. “I can feel the heat, I can smell the food, I can actually taste the fish in the dream – in a good way. But mostly they are bad memories.” The experience has upended her sense of who she is. “Before this I felt British – I just did. I’m the sort of person who would watch every royal wedding on television. I feel less British now. I feel I don’t belong here, and I don’t belong there.”

      While a government compensation scheme has been announced, Joycelyn, like most of the Windrush generation, has yet to receive any money. Since the government apologised for its “appalling” treatment, 6,000 people have been given documents confirming their right to live in the UK. Joycelyn is one of them. But, although her right to be here is now official, she hasn’t yet got a passport – because she can’t afford the fee. And she remains frightened. “I’m still looking over my shoulder all the time. I’m a nervous wreck.”

      https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2019/sep/14/scale-misery-devastating-inside-story-reporting-windrush-scandal?CMP=sh

  • #Ambert (63) : des précisions sur l’enquête en cours
    https://fr.squat.net/2018/04/23/ambert-63-des-precisions

    Pour rappel, le matin du 28 mars ont eu lieu à Ambert (63) trois perquisitions. Celles-ci ont été ordonnées dans le cadre d’une enquête sur la tentative de destruction par le feu d’un véhicule d’Enedis dans la même ville dans la nuit du 8 au 9 juin 2017. L’une de ces perquisitions visait un squat […]

    #Clermont-Ferrand #perquisition #prison #surveillance

  • #Amber_Barnhill : “J’ai laissé mon mari me violer, et voilà pourquoi…”
    https://tradfem.wordpress.com/2017/10/05/jai-laisse-mon-mari-me-violer-et-voila-pourquoi

    J’ai passé les dernières semaines à me demander si je devais garder cette histoire pour moi ou si j’en avais déjà trop dit, mais je pense qu’il est temps d’avoir d’une discussion ouverte et honnête sur la violence domestique et le viol. Les répercussions de la honte et du silence sont bien trop grandes pour ne pas prendre la parole. Lorsque l’on entend une histoire de violence domestique, on a l’impression qu’il s’agit toujours de récits de victoire — victoire de celles qui ont survécu à un abus passé —. Pourquoi nous n’en n’entendons pas au présent ? Pourquoi nous n’en parlons pas comme un problème continu, plutôt que comme une chose à laisser derrière nous et à dépasser ? Je ne pense pas que c’est très réaliste pour de nombreuses victimes.

    Nous sommes d’accord pour dire « J’ai été maltraitée et j’ai survécu », mais nous ne sommes pas assez courageuses pour dire « C’est toujours un problème pour moi à l’heure actuelle ». C’est pour cela que j’ai décidé de publier cet article sous ma véritable identité, et non avec un pseudonyme comme j’avais prévu de le faire au début. Et c’est aussi pour cela que j’ai décidé de parler de certaines choses avec lesquelles je me débats toujours, et pas seulement de ce qui m’est arrivé par le passé. Cela n’a pas été facile d’écrire ce texte, mais j’espère qu’il aidera des victimes à savoir qu’elles ne sont pas seules ou qu’il les aidera à mieux comprendre ce qu’elles sont en train de vivre. J’espère aussi qu’il aidera celles et ceux qui n’ont pas subi de maltraitance à être plus conscient.e.s de comment ils et elles en parlent et y pensent.

    Dans mon enfance et adolescence, il y a deux choses dont personne ne parlait : la violence domestique et le sexe. Aussi, lorsque ces deux mots se rencontrèrent, je me suis retrouvée piégée en leur centre, sans voix, trop honteuse pour en parler à qui que ce soit, et incapable d’entrevoir une porte de sortie.

    “Car le Seigneur châtie celui qu’il aime” (Hébreux 12:6)

    Même si j’avais la mi-vingtaine quand tout a commencé, j’étais terriblement crédule. J’étais aussi débrouillarde qu’un enfant de cinq ans. Je ne savais rien à propos de l’alcool, des drogues, et même si je venais de perdre ma virginité, je ne savais toujours rien sur le sexe. Les mots « consentement » et « non » ne faisaient pas partie de mon vocabulaire.

    Je venais juste de sortir d’un collège catholique et j’étais lassée de suivre tout un tas de règles. J’étais en train de « glisser dans le péché ». J’allais au cinéma, je portais des pantalons, je me rasais au-dessus des genoux et je montrais mes clavicules en public —vous connaissez la routine.

    Traduction : #Tradfem
    Version originale : http://www.patheos.com/blogs/removingthefigleaf/2016/08/i-let-my-husband-rape-me

    #viol #violences_post-séparation #post-traumatisme #culture_du_viol

    • Si j’avais su ce que je sais maintenant…

      Eh bien, à part le fait de ne pas savoir comment utiliser un moyen de contraception, je ne connaissais pas ce qu’est un viol et je ne savais pas que supporter une telle situation aurait les effets à long terme que ça a sur moi.

      Un viol n’est pas que du sexe forcé : c’est n’importe quelle activité sexuelle sans consentement, c’est une activité sexuelle quand on ne peut pas consentir, c’est du sexe contraint, du sexe obtenu par manipulation ou chantage, du sexe avec des menaces ou du sexe quand on a pas le choix.

      La violence domestique n’est pas un problème personnel, c’est un problème social. Rien ne va changer, sauf si on arrête de se focaliser sur les victimes et qu’on commence à se centrer sur ceux qui en sont les auteurs, la culture qui les a créés et le système qui maintient tout cela.

      Je ne me blâme pas pour tout ce qui est arrivé, mais je ne lui reproche pas tout non plus. En fin de compte, il était autant que moi le produit de notre environnement.

      Enfin, à toutes celles et à tous ceux qui disent que « Le seul moyen d’avoir un mariage qui marche c’est avec Dieu », devinez quoi ? Mon mariage a entièrement été bâti sur Dieu et j’ai de la chance d’en être sortie vivante.

  • Meghan Murphy : La Slutwalk d’Amber Rose est l’apogée naturelle des Slutwalk

    https://tradfem.wordpress.com/2016/01/29/meghan-murphy-la-slutwalk-damber-rose-est-lapogee-naturelle-des-s

    A l’époque, j’ai rigolé à l’idée que cet individualisme loufoque soit qualifié de « mouvement ». On n’y trouvait ni solidarité, ni analyse de classe, ni compréhension des systèmes d’oppression, ni compréhension de l’oppression tout court… C’était juste un méli-mélo de mantras que les publicitaires et l’État capitaliste américain nous balançaient depuis des décennies : ton destin est ce que tu en fais. Ta capacité à « choisir » des implants mammaires ou à profiter en quelque façon d’un système exploiteur est, en fait, autonomisante. Si je me traite de salope et que ça me plaît, me voilà libérée avec succès du patriarcat. Évidemment, fantasmer notre libération tout en restant sous la coupe d’un système qui nous détruit est exactement ce que souhaitaient les détenteurs du pouvoir. [...]

    Qu’on s’entende bien, je n’ai pas d’aversion pour Rose. Je respecte le fait qu’elle essaye de guérir de tout ceci, et je respecte le fait que ses intentions étaient bonnes en organisant cet événement. J’ai été émue par ses propos quand elle a parlé, en larmes, de sa douleur à être humiliée et insultée par des hommes qui l’ont utilisée, qu’elle a aimés, et dont elle a porté un enfant. Mais le « pardon » et « l’énergie positive » n’ébranleront jamais le patriarcat. Et sincèrement, la Slutwalk ne souhaite pas ébranler le patriarcat.

    Traduction : Tradfem
    Article original : http://www.feministcurrent.com/2015/10/07/amber-roses-slutwalk-is-the-natural-pinnacle-of-slutwalk

    #Meghan_Murphy est écrivaine et journaliste indépendante, secrétaire de rédaction du soir pour le site rabble.ca, et fondatrice et directrice du site Feminist Current. Vous pouvez la suivre sur Twitter : https://twitter.com/MeghanEMurphy

    #Slutwalk #Amber_Rose #Feminist_Current #tradfem