Category Archives: Disabled Women

Sisters of Frida AGM 6th Feb 2016

Sisters of Frida AGM 6th Feb 2016
14 women in front of the Sisters of Frida banner, some in wheelchairs. and one baby held in mother's arms

Group photo at the end of the AGM


We had a great turn out for the annual meeting at Blackfriars Settlement last Saturday. The venue was great, spacious for our needs and had good access. Not everybody could stay the whole time.

We have a nice lunch and the meeting proceeded well with Eleanor giving an introduction and welcoming new people, reporting on activities in the past year. Lani and Dyi spoke about the Sexuality and disability workshop before we had a short break. Sarah then gave a presentation on the Sisters of Frida’s structure and lead the discussion on how to proceed to work in the future. There was great enthusiasm on the idea of a ‘family’  – on the discussion for a name for supporters and donations. It continued on to what Sisters of Frida did and does as a collective and ended with a question and answers session before time ran out.

There was a short Steering Group meeting with old and new members before it was time to clear up and out of the venue.

The Steering Group 2016

Annabel Crowley

Armineh Soorenian

Dyi Huijg

Eleanor Lisney

Kirsty Liddiard

Lucia Bellini

Michelle Daley

Rebecca Bunce

Sarah Rennie

Sophie Partridge

Zara Todd


many thanks to Obi for livestreaming for us – some sisters could not make it to the meeting.

here is the links if you want to watch

(transcripts to follow)

Zara Todd: Disability rights campaigner in today’s Guardian!

Zara Todd: Disability rights campaigner in today’s Guardian!

Zara, one of our steering group and director, had an article My biggest act of rebellion as a disabled person is living as I wish’. But somehow that fact of being in Sisters of Frida got missed out in her impressive CV!

“What you fundamentally want when you are growing up is to fit in, and when you are constantly being told that you don’t fit, there are two ways you can react,” says Todd. “One is to take it all on board and end up hating yourself, and the other one is to fight it.”

For Todd, who has been a committed activist since the age of 11 when she began “all sorts of campaigning” with a local charity focused on young people, it is quite clear which approach she took. While legal landmarks such as the Disability Discrimination Act 1995 (DDA) and the Equality Act 2010 have undoubtedly heralded improvements in the lives of younger disabled people, numerous obstacles remain to full inclusion, she says.

“There have been massive strides, but one of the things that saddens me most about hearing children and young people’s experiences today is that a lot of the things that I experienced are still happening. I hear stories of young people who aren’t even allowed out [during break times] because there are fears that they might be bullied or that something might happen to them and there aren’t enough staff to facilitate it safely, so the only option is to keep them all in a room together.”

read the rest of the article at the Guardian.


Zara Todd

Zara Todd @toddles23



Johanna Hedva: Sick Woman Theory

Johanna Hedva: Sick Woman Theory

This article, quoted in part here, is for all those women who have ‘invisible disabilities’ who is surviving with chronigue pain and illnesses. We feel what she wrote here will resonate with many sisters. Thank you Johanna Hedva and Mask magazine

You can read the rest of the article at the Mask Magazine website

With all of these visitors, I started writing Sick Woman Theory as a way to survive in a reality that I find unbearable, and as a way to bear witness to a self that does not feel like it can possibly be “mine.”

The early instigation for the project of “Sick Woman Theory,” and how it inherited its name, came from a few sources. One was in response to Audrey Wollen’s “Sad Girl Theory,” which proposes a way of redefining historically feminized pathologies into modes of political protest for girls: I was mainly concerned with the question of what happens to the sad girl when, if, she grows up. Another was incited by reading Kate Zambreno’s fantastic Heroines, and feeling an itch to fuck with the concept of “heroism” at all, and so I wanted to propose a figure with traditionally anti-heroic qualities – namely illness, idleness, and inaction – as capable of being the symbol of a grand Theory. Another was from the 1973 feminist book Complaints and Disorders, which differentiates between the “sick woman” of the white upper class, and the “sickening women” of the non-white working class.

Sick Woman Theory is for those who are faced with their vulnerability and unbearable fragility, every day, and so have to fight for their experience to be not only honored, but first made visible. For those who, in Audre Lorde’s words, were never meant to survive: because this world was built against their survival. It’s for my fellow spoonies. You know who you are, even if you’ve not been attached to a diagnosis: one of the aims of Sick Woman Theory is to resist the notion that one needs to be legitimated by an institution, so that they can try to fix you. You don’t need to be fixed, my queens – it’s the world that needs the fixing


woman in a vivid red dress on a wheelchair holding a stick on her right hand

photo by Pamila Payne; Styling, hair and makeup: Myrrhia Rodriguez; Art Direction: Johanna Hedva

Johanna Hedva (@bighedva) is an anticapitalist psychonaut sorceress who lives in Los Angeles, where she’s from. She is the writer/director of The Greek Cycle, a series of feminist-ed and queered Ancient Greek plays; and the author of The Crow and the Queen, a novel published in limited-edition handmade hardcovers; Incunabula, a series of 103 fables with each fable published in its own handwritten book; My Cellar Doors, a book of poetry written on Salonpas pain patches; and Permanent Winter, a book made to be buried in the ice of Antarctica. This article is an excerpt from the forthcoming This Earth, Our Hospital (Sick Woman Theory and Other Writings).

Julia Daniels: On the Subject of Voice

Julia Daniels: On the Subject of Voice

Thank you to Julia Daniels for allowing us to reblog this.

For lots of other people, this ‘blog writing’ malarkey seems to come so easily… and writing as a way to express my emotions has become a very precious process…so why is it that the words; ‘developing an on-line presence’ seem to invoke such terror in me?

Maybe it’s because I’m a bit of an introvert, naturally seeking enjoyment out of quieter pastimes like reading, yoga and, to be honest, blissfully day-dreaming about anything and everything. And maybe (I think this is the crux of it) it is due to the tangled mess of emotions that prevent me from speaking – the fear that I will have nothing of value to contribute to the world. Fear, also, of being exposed as the worthless waste that I know myself to be, or that living in this ableist world has taught me that I am. Fear of exposing myself to public ridicule by using the last remaining method I know to express my thoughts to a select few of my fellow academics.

For I do use writing to express myself, but always under the cloak and relative protection of academia, twisting and cultivating glimpses of my private, personal life into theoretical and political concepts in order to fool people into thinking that I do indeed have the flair and proficiency to be a successful PhD researcher. I fear that by writing a blog like this, I will be caught out, recognised as an imposter. Nevertheless, I feel the time has come for me to ‘speak out’, as it were.

Maybe for you to understand where I’m coming from, I first need to tell you a little bit about my life. 15 years ago, I was involved in a car accident which left me with an assortment of broken bones to my upper body, a paralysed right arm, a severe head injury and damage to my vocal cords from incubation. 6 operations later, I still have a peculiar, breathy-sounding, very quiet voice. This compounds with the damage to the language and memory sections of my brain to make communication quite difficult for me. I have trouble processing auditory information, so it takes a while for me to fully comprehend what is being said in a conversation. Teamed with my natural tendency towards inhibition, this leads towards a potentially isolated existence. Whilst I do enjoy meeting new people, the dread of the, ‘what’s wrong with you, then?’ questions, or even worse, the grabbing of the throat and trying to mimic my voice makes me want to SCREAM (but, ironically, I can’t physically do that. Bugger). This makes me silently shrink away, back into the close circle of friends that I know and love.

It is taken for granted that the spoken voice is an accurate depiction of who you are as a person. If you are articulate, reasoned and comprehensible, this is taken as evidence that you are well-educated (whatever that means). This presupposition leaves no room for the disfluent speakers who stutter and stumble over their words, or for people like me who’s words push and shove together in a maddening array to get out, leaving me so confused that none end up getting expressed. Is it possible to imagine a world where disfluent speakers are equally validated? Where the non-disabled population appreciates and respects that the answer to those, ‘what happened to you, then?’ questions is something a disabled person might not actually want to go into on first meeting? We can hope, that’s for sure.

By increasing the voices – however they are expressed – of disabled people, we can hope to destabilise hegemonic practices and move together towards a better world. I hope to contribute towards this move with my research.  To be continued…

 Julia Daniels is a PhD researcher at the University of Sheffield. 15 years ago she was in a car accident which resulted in a head injury and paralysed right arm, but it was years before she got involved with critical disability studies. Now her research interests involve feminist approaches to disability, Voice Relational Methodology and the biopolitics of disability.

Karin Hitselberger writes Why We Need to Talk About Kylie Jenner

Karin Hitselberger writes Why We Need to Talk About Kylie Jenner

Many thanks to  Karin Hitselberger  for permission to reblog this – first posted on Karin’s own blog Claiming Crip.
Photo of Kylie Jenner on the cover of Interview .magazine siting in a gold wheelchair with her arms resting on the wheels, wearing black heels, and a black corset)

I never thought I would say this, but we need to talk about Kylie Jenner.

We need to talk about Kylie Jenner posing on the cover of Interview Magazine in a wheelchair. We need to realize that this is not a simple conversation. I cannot talk about Kylie Jenner posing in a wheelchair in a simple way, because this conversation is anything but simple. This is not just about whether it is okay for able-bodied people to use mobility aids and disability as edgy props to shock people. No, this is about so much more.

Kylie Jenner’s photo and the conversation around it made me uncomfortable as a disabled person, but not just because she was using a wheelchair as a prop. I was uncomfortable when I read Tweets that suggested that the wheelchair was used as a prop to symbolize the “limitations” Kylie Jenner experienced through being famous. That made my skin crawl. A wheelchair being symbolic of limitations, because the reality is that couldn’t be further from the truth. We need to talk about what a wheelchair really is.

For me, a full-time wheelchair user, my wheelchair does not represent limitations and restrictions; it represents freedom. Without my wheelchair I wouldn’t be able to leave my house, or even my bedroom. Without my wheelchair, I never would’ve been able to go to school or study abroad in England. Simply put, without my wheelchair, I would not have a life. My wheelchair is not restricting; it is the thing that allows me to have some determination about the way in which I move through the world. I am limited by inaccessible environments, ableism, discrimination, and inadequate access to things like personal care, accessible housing, employment, and accessible, adequate medical care. I am limited by a world that does not see disabled people as being fully equal to non-disabled people. We need to talk about the limitations and restrictions that exist in the world for disabled people, in this case, wheelchair users in particular, but we also need to realize that it Is society and social structures that cause these limitations, not the wheelchair in and of itself.

We need to talk about Kylie Jenner. We need to talk about privilege. We need to talk about the fact that for Kylie Jenner a wheelchair was nothing more than an edgy, sexy prop. We need to talk about why I cringe every time I see an able-bodied person use a wheelchair in this way. I promise you it’s not because I don’t think wheelchairs, and the people in them,can be beautiful and sexy, I know they can. Trust me when I say that I know that being in a wheelchair does not make you any less beautiful, sexy, or awesome than anybody else, but I also know that we live in a society that often times has a hard time seeing it. We need to talk about the fact that Kylie Jenner, a conventionally beautiful able-bodied woman who fits societal standards of beauty in almost every way is allowed to be sexy and edgy in a wheelchair, when that reality is so often denied to many wheelchair using women. We need to talk about the fact that disabled people, real disabled people, are still largely missing in media representation, especially media representation around beauty and sexuality.

We need to talk about the fact that Kylie Jenner is allowed to look edgy and sexy in a wheelchair but she has never had her ability to consent to sexual activity questioned because she was disabled. She has never had her sexuality interrogated by random strangers and put on display simply because she was sitting in a wheelchair. That wheelchair has never made her an item on a sexual bucket list that people want to try just to see what it would be like. Kylie Jenner has never heard the words, “You’re so pretty… For someone in a wheelchair.” She’s never experienced unwanted fetishization that seems to be so common for disabled women. She’s never had to balance feeling beautiful,  and sexual and being sexually attractive in a world that sees you as anything but that.

I’m not saying that Kylie Jenner has never experienced anything difficult in her life, but she is not experience what it is like to live and love as a disabled woman. Kylie Jenner has so many different privileges that I cannot list them all, and because of that she has a responsibility to realize that not all stories belong to her to use as edgy, provocative props. There is nothing wrong with realizing that wheelchairs can be beautiful, but one must also realize that they are not simple chairs.

Experiencing life in a wheelchair comes with a unique set of challenges that cannot be ignored. Being a wheelchair user means that you live in a world that is not set up for you. Being a wheelchair user means you experienced spaces on a daily basis where you are not meant to fit. Being a wheelchair user means learning to be proud of who you are in a world that tells you that you would be better off being almost anybody else. For most people, being a wheelchair user means learning to accept the scars or the spasms and the parts of your body that don’t work the way everyone else thinks they should. For me, being a wheelchair user means learning to see beauty, strength, and yes, even sexiness, where most people see brokenness. It means learning to define myself outside of societal standards of beauty, and being comfortable with who I am regardless of what everyone else thinks.

We need to talk about Kylie Jenner because this is not really about her. It is about how disability can be considered cool when used as a prop, but so often the lives of actually disabled people are seen as a terrible fate. It’s about the fact that so often disabled women are not given the opportunity to be seen as sexy and beautiful outside of the realm of fetishization. It’s about the fact that it is difficult to see a wheelchair as nothing more than a prop when it is so intertwined with the way that many people experience and move through the world.

I am not ashamed to be in a wheelchair. Being a wheelchair user is a complicated and beautiful experience filled with challenges, beauty, and a unique perspective on life. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that wheelchair users can be beautiful, strong, sassy, and sexy just like anybody else, and I don’t need Kylie Jenner, or any other able-bodied person to show me that.

Karin Karin Hitselberger is an American currently getting doing her Masters degree in disability studies from the University of Leeds in England. She firmly believe in disability rights, and that disability is not simply something that needs to be cured, but rather a valid life experience.

Austerity puts disabled women at greater risk of domestic violence

Austerity puts disabled women at greater risk of domestic violence

This is first posted on the  Sisters Uncut  blog.

Disabled women are 2-3 times more likely to experience domestic violence, but have greater barriers to accessing services. Often they are not believed or their experiences as disabled women are not understood. Perpetrators exploit disabled women by financially abusing them, isolating them from friends and family, withholding vital care or medication, and using​ their​ impairments ​to apply the form of ​​abuse

Austerity has robbed disabled women of independ​ent living​ in a number of ways. The closure of the independent living fund, the introduction of ESA and the inappropriate work capability assessment, the change to PIP and​ Motability (for adapted vehicles) as there is an arbitrary change to mobility eligibility.

This is a systematic erosion of disabled people’s rights. An erosion so grave the UN is investigating.

Women are told they ​have to use nappies inspite of not being incontinent. Never mind the indignity. Never mind the health risk from sores, a risk that is not needed. Children are removed from disabled mothers as social services deem them not to be capable of parenthood. Disabled ​w​omen wait in fear of the arbitrary sanctions from job centre and DWP letters informing them they no longer meet criteria for benefits.

This all feeds into vulnerability, isolation and dependency on​ possibly​ abusive partners.

The decimation of disabled people’s rights and independence, through the systematic removal of social security has had one particularly significant effect: disabled women are left at greater risk of domestic violence.

When it comes to state support for disabled women, social security is no ‘benefit’. In a world which denies disabled people access to education, employment, family life and public spaces this money is a small recognition of the barriers faced.

Disabled women experience a compound oppression. As at the same time their risk of violence increases, funding to domestic violence​ aid​ services is falling. This is despite an evidence need for MORE funding to ensure they are accessible and responsive to all disabled women . We need more specialist services and accessible helplines and information.

Without this ​support​ and funding, disabled women lose their​ ​independentt living​, their social circles, ​civil rights, choice and control. Isolation, dependence and vulnerability are ​exacerbated​ by austerity.

Austerity sets up the conditions where disabled women are ​more than ​2-3 time​s likely to experience domestic violence.



Destroy the Joint, sure, but feminism must include disability politics

Destroy the Joint, sure, but feminism must include disability politics

This is reposted from The Conversation which uses a Creative Commons Attribution NoDerivatives licence and with kind permission from Kate Ellis. We think this fits in very well with what was voiced at the panel on disabled women at Feminism in London.

The sometimes uneasy relationship between feminist groups and disability activists was highlighted last weekend, when online Australian feminist group Destroy the Joint (DTJ) blocked and banned a number of high-profile Australian disability activists, claiming the women were in breach of their rules.

DTJ had called for submissions to the hashtag #beingawoman on its Facebook page, sparked by a Buzzfeed article featuring both lighthearted and serious tweets reflecting on modern womanhood.

Several disability activists began posting their experiences, only to be deleted for being “repetitive, circular and off topic”.

The comments that were deleted included the following:

My doctor told me to get a hysterectomy or change my tampon in my office because there was no accessible toilet nearby at my workplace #beingawoman

when people deny my sexuality because they think disabled people having sex is disgusting #beingawoman

DTJ banned the commenters from its Facebook page, for “spamming this post and page with a large number of obvious half truths and distortions”.

After a number of members and disability activists encouraged the group to reconsider its stance on intersectional feminism, DTJ issued an apology yesterday afternoon:

Dear Destroyers,

Let us begin with a belated and unreserved apology about the way we have handled the comment moderation in this instance [the #beingawoman incident]. We acknowledge we can always be more inclusive.

We are constantly discussing ways we can achieve this and no woman living with disability should be excluded from this page. Anyone who has been banned as a result of this will be unbanned. Please email so we can be thorough about this.

It has always been our mission to include everyone and Counting Dead Women includes all women who have been killed as a result of gendered violence.

While it was a disappointing weekend for those of us who identify as both disabled and feminist, the gaffe has prompted a reflection on the ways disability politics are essential to feminist politics.

Intersectional feminism

Disability is a feminist issue and the silencing of disabled voices and experiences does not further the feminist cause. While the women posting on DTJ may have experienced gendered oppression, such as domestic violence, they are simultaneously affected by ableism.

American law professor Kimberlé Crenshaw described the ways minority groups experience multiple and overlapping oppression as intersectionality in 1989.

Women with Disabilities Australia recognises that, for women with disabilities, the effects of gendered oppression are compounded. As Sue Salthouse and Carolyn Frohmader explained in a 2004 presentation for the group:

Low levels of education relegate women with disabilities to lower echelons of society, limit their access to information and their ability to interpret it, limit their life choices and limit their ability to achieve financial and living independence.

Women with disabilities are also more likely to suffer domestic violence and sexual assault.

Feminist blogger and activist Clementine Ford told me via Facebook that this is the reason why disability politics must be included in feminism:

It is vital for feminism to focus on the impact of sexual violence, but how can we do that properly if we don’t acknowledge that 90% of women with an intellectual disability have experienced sexual assault?

Reproductive rights are core to feminism, yet they cannot be discussed without also hearing from the women whose impairments have led to doctors and carers deciding – without their permission – they must be sterilised in order to prevent the physical aftermath of sexual violence becoming a “problem”.

Just today, I read an article about two parents with cerebral palsy who have been “allowed” to keep their child. The dehumanisation of women with disabilities is appalling, but even worse is the way these issues are marginalised even within feminism.

Disability politics marginalised within feminism

In Integrating Disability, Transforming Feminist Theory (2002), Rosemarie Garland Thomson explains how both women and people with disabilities are considered “deviant and inferior” within cultural discourse and subsequently excluded from participation in public and economic life.

Other disability theorists suggest the reason women with disabilities have been excluded from mainstream feminist circles is because they are a reminder of vulnerability and lack of control, identities feminists have traditionally sought to reject.

Whereas disability was once thought of as an individual’s medical problem to overcome, following the work of disability activists such as the late Stella Young we are increasingly coming to recognise disability as a problem related to inaccessibility and negative attitudes. Disability, like gender, is a social construct.

We are all women

Back in 1988, disability theorist Susan Wendell called for a “feminist theory of disability” as a way to move forward in both disability politics and feminist theory. Wendell argued the oppression of disabled people is closely linked to the cultural oppression of the body. She believed a feminist theory of disability would “[liberate] both disabled and able-bodied people”.

Disability activist Samantha Connor, who was the first to be banned on DTJ for contravening its commenting guidelines, continues to see the importance of mainstream feminism in breaking down power imbalances for people with disabilities. As Connor explained to me:

We are all women, and the issues we face are issues faced by mainstream feminism, not by individuals or minority collectives.

The incident illustrates an important truth: being aware of intersectional oppression in 2015 should not be an optional “extra”, but fundamental to any social justice movement.

Correction: a previous version of this article contained a paragraph stating that criticism had also been also been levelled at DTJ over allegedly failing to include women with disabilities in their regular count of women who have died as a result of domestic violence or abuse. While that criticism exists, it is not substantiated.

Kate Ellis

Kate Ellis

Dr Katie Ellis is a Senior Research Fellow in the Internet Studies Department at Curtin University. She holds an Australian Research Council (ARC) Discovery Early Career Researcher Award studying disability and digital television. She has worked with people with disabilities in the community, government, and in academia and has published widely in the area of disability, television, and digital and networked media, extending across both issues of representation and active possibilities for social inclusion. Her most recent book with Gerard Goggin is ‘Disability and the Media’

Zara Todd : Have you always been disabled?

Zara Todd : Have you always been disabled?

If I had a pound for every time someone asked me this question or a less polite version such as what’s wrong with you? Have you always been like this? Were you born in a wheelchair? I would be a millionaire.

Now I know people are curious about disability (even if I don’t really get why) but do we really need a superhero like origin story can’t we just exist? While I generally humour the disability questions, providing people are politely I’m not going to lie it is irritating.

However recently Ive begun to realise all of these ‘origin’ questions are intensely personal and potentially traumatic. While seemingly most of the questions have yes or no answers in reality the conversation doesn’t stop there. For the majority of disabled people it’s either unclear when we acquired our impairments or the result of a traumatic experience. Meaning the answer to ‘have you always been disabled?’ becomes no or I don’t know. These answers invariably lead to more questions or an expectation of an explanation. I was trying to think of similarly personal question and the best I could come up with was why did you get divorced? Whilst some would ask the majority would let the affected party direct the conversation.

Despite having my impairments as long as I can remember and therefore the questions about my impairment for almost as long, until recently I didn’t really feel like I had any option but to answer. In part feeling compelled to answer questions about my impairment comes from growing up in systems which depend on that information to judge my eligibility for support combined with me being the first ‘severely’ disabled person in many of the environments I’ve accessed. However I now question how that information being disclosed to all and sundry has aided me. Yes as someone with support some people need to know what support I need but is do impairment labels or my history communicate my needs… Not fully.

I suspect it has taken longer for me to take ownership of my right not to disclose my ‘origin’ story because I’m a woman as often the refusal to disclose information is often seen as being aggressive regardless of how polite the denial.

I’m not against talking about impairment or disability in fact if we talked about them more maybe the novelty factor would wear off, however I believe that disabled people should have control over their own story and who they disclose it to.

Surely there are much more interesting conversations to be had.


Zara ToddZara Todd has been involved in young peoples and disability rights since she was 12 and has worked both in the UK and internationally trying to increase the voice of young disabled people.
Zara is currently chair of Inclusion London, a Deaf and disabled people’s organisation supporting Deaf and Disabled people’s organisation in London. She is an active member of the European Network on Independent Living running several trainings for young disabled people from across Europe.
She can be contacted at @toddles23

Disabled women at Feminism in London 2015

Disabled women at Feminism in London 2015

We were asked to organise a disabled women’s panel at this year’s Feminism in London Conference in October.

A big thank you to Lisa-Marie Taylor, FIL’s organiser, for inviting us!

We did some publicity by having a stall and we ‘re grateful to Annabel, Zara, Jacqueline and Sophie for helping us with the stall!

(Click on photos to get a bigger photo)

Real Media came to do do a short video feature on it – many thanks!

transcript FIL SOF panel (Word doc)

Frances Ryan also wrote a piece for the Guardian on the event A Disabled Woman’s struggle is any woman’s struggle

Obi was kind enough to video the whole event – if you wish to follow it in its entirety

great additions from Nidhi Goyal and Asha Hans Part 1

with Q&A from audience

Individual videos

Asha Hans video

TRANSCRIPT Asha Hans (Word doc)

Nidhi Goyal’s video

TRANSCRIPT Nidhi Goyal (Word doc)

Frances Ryan’s video

TRANSCRIPT Frances Ryan (Word doc)

Becky Olaniyi s video

TRANSCRIPT Becky Olaniyi  (Word doc)

Rebecca Bunce’s video

TRANSCRIPT Rebecca Bunce (Word doc)

Kirsten Hearn’s video

TRANSCRIPT Kirsten Hearn (Word doc)

Thank you all for having taken part in the event!

Disability is not our only identity: An interview with Becky Olaniyi

Disability is not our only identity: An interview with Becky Olaniyi
Becky Olaniyi

Becky Olaniyi

In anticipation of this year’s Feminism In London conference (October 24-25), Alicen Grey talks with Becky Olaniyi about disability, feminism, and the challenges and lessons of being an activist at the intersection of identities.

See the rest of the interview at the Feminist Curent.

Becky is the youngest member of our steering group but she’s a brilliant speaker. Its not too late to get tickets for the workshop. And if you have difficulties paying, just let them know.