Jael Uribe | Acceptance Speech | Freedom of Expression Award | Oslo | Norway
Jael Uribe Acceptance Speech for the Freedom of
Expression Award 2016, Oslo Norway
March 25th, 2017- Dear distinguished Committee and members of Norwegian Author’s Union, special guests, ladies and gentleman. Please accept my deepest gratitude for your kind invitation to this beautiful country. I’m thrilled to be among you, and for being considered for this priceless award!
When I first received an e-mail claiming that I’ve been
awarded a prize in Norway,
the only word that crossed my mind was SCAM. DELETE IT, DELETE IT, DELETE IT!
Sorry to say that, but being an online mouse for so many
years teaches you than on Internet, “If it sounds too good to be true…” it most
probably is!
I was on denial but still, something inside of me told me to
“play along with it” and I’m glad I did because here I am, a few months later.
I guess deep inside, I refused to believe recognition for my
so many years of hard, yet constant work would come from such a faraway place
as Norway
is. In fact, I refused to believe people would even feel the need of awarding
me for anything, at all!
This world is rough to those who stand by their dreams; for
those who are considered fighters don’t wait to receive compensation for giving
it all for the sake of humankind. They just do what they have to, and go on.
“Freedom of Expression” speaks to me about SILENCE. It tells
me about the fight of Susana Chavez’s mother, standing
outside, on the stairs of justice, waiting for an answer for her daughter’s
murder. It tells me and about the so many other women, marching every year on
March in other parts of this world, claiming for their rights in countries
where OBLIBION is the principal law.
------------
Sometimes it takes even more strength to remain silent, than it does to speak. That is what’s happening to many women out there, who don’t dare to raise their voices.
But I didn’t come here to build pedestal for me, so you
could understand how on earth I
became to be “rewarded” for raising my voice, so other women could have their
right to speak. I’m here to tell you how we’ve lived, and how hard it’s been
for all of us, in case you didn’t know. What it is to be in our shoes and
waking up every single day wanting to become somebody, to become noticed and
valued, and not to be silenced anymore.
Well now that I am being noticed, I’m taking my chance to
talk for them, hoping that through me, theirs voices are also heard beside
mine. I’m here for them as for my cause, for the women writing Landai in Pashto poetry hiding in Afghanistan,
hopping someone would hear them scream. For the Dominican young female writers
who tell me how much they admire me and wish to be like me when they grow
older.
But it is not easy to be me; it’s not easy to be a woman
anywhere and, it’s even harder to be a writer, in a hard of hearing world that
doesn’t care about your voice, at all. It takes a double effort to us women and
yes, a little bit of luck.
Back in 1996 I was diagnosed with many health problems,
Cancer, was among them. I thought hearing the news out of my doctor’s mouth was
the worst thing that I could ever face in my life but, I was wrong. Despair,
giving up, losing faith and joy, were the biggest battles I had yet to
overcome.
Even when my doctor’s “miracle hands” saved me and managed
to cast away some of my shadows, I was unable to prevail over nightmare. Only
half the battle to regain myself was won. I lost everything: My well paid job,
my friends, my money, stability, and ended up feeling useless, sore and
miserable.
After many months of lying in bed with horrible pain, unable
to walk and hunted by the memories that confined me to silence, I knew I had to
find a way to make myself relevant. I knew I had to hold on but, I was just too
tired.
Writing poetry was a therapy for me, for I find in it the
courage I needed to raise my voice again. Internet became my “best friend”, a
non-judgmental companion. I began posting my poems online; in a blog I used to
relief myself from anger and impotence. It helped me a lot when I started to
receive feedback from other women writers who where in similar or worst
situations than me and still, gave me the confidence I needed to believe in the
power of my words. They gave me an unexpected sense of value and self-esteem
boost. I thought the healing energy that came from their words was something
tremendous, something that needed to be taken beyond the ordinary.
I wanted them to have a space of their own to share poetry
and read each other’s work, so I decided to create a simple Facebook page for
them. I called it Women Poets
International with no pretensions than to be a place to unite women with
powerful poetic voices and, who were touched by distress just like me.
In less than a year, my little page became a movement with
over 400 contributors, but I still believed that we all had too much to say to
the world to be contained into a single page.
One night the idea of making an international poetry
festival came to me like a premonition. The Woman
Scream name suddenly jumped out of my hat into my hands and guys, I must
tell you -I trembled. It was more than
just a funny phrase. It was a command.
Woman Scream became a real project, an international poetry festival, as a simultaneous chain of events coordinated by local women on their cities. The idea was to give a stage to all the talented female poets who we encountered, who didn’t have the resources or the opportunity to raise their voices on a significant poetry event.
The first Woman Scream Festival was to start in March 2011
and to my surprise, women of 17 different counties and 44 cities volunteered.
Events where to be coordinated by women who mostly, had no experienced in
cultural affairs.
By January of the same year, the activist and poetess Susana
Chavez was killed in Mexico,
for speaking up for women’s rights in Juarez
city. Her death, made us aware of the many women out there being mistreated and
abused. Her example showed us the ugly
truth hidden behind those who are hunted merely for raising their voices.
Woman Scream found then a new direction, and became a cause,
an awareness platform to motivate poets all over the world to speak up for those
women whose voices are silenced by violence, low self-teem and oblivion. We got
united to achieve a better goal.
----------------
Sometimes, when violence speaks louder, silence is the highest scream. Go tell that to Nadia Anjuman, killed for raising her voice through poetry, tell it to the young girls kidnapped in Chibok, the dead ones, the few survivors remained whose tongues had been chopped off by rape and men’s stupidity. Go tell the ones mutilated by acid, the women buried under the desert sun like Desert Flowers, stoned to death by ignorance and misogyny, go tell the women buried as trash in Juarez city, the little girls who suffer genital mutilation (FGM), to the 9 years old Leyla Mafi, raped by her brothers and sold as prostitute by her own family, tell it to Malala, to Liu Xia, to San San Nweh, tell women in India, in Haiti, to the little girls abused who recently died in Guatemala on March 8th, and tell all the unnamed women out there that their SCREAM and their suffering has not been in vain, for they shall not be unheard.
There is no use to tell them silence is the best way to
regain their power, to tell them to behave. No matter if you tell them there is
no freedom; go tell them all the lies you wish to say! But I guarantee you the
scream of the ones alive will be louder, the ones who still remain and won’t be
covered by silence, will still rise for them.
Our Woman Scream has now been heard in over 70 countries; it
has celebrated over 700 worldwide events with the help of volunteer’s female
poets and artists and, even men. It has been translated in up to 10 languages,
our message can’t be untold. It has been heard!
-----
This Freedom of Expression Award reminds me about all the tears and frustration I’ve been through, about hunger, and long lonely nights being left behind, accused and criticized by the ones who I thought, mattered the most. But it also speaks to me about the loud power of resilience, and persistence, about never giving up. No matter if I didn’t see where the road inside my voice would take me; I knew I should never stop raising my voice.
I most say it is an honor for me to share this prize with
the previous awarded deserving writers, including the ones from Latin America. And it is even a greater honor to accept
it not only on behalf of the Woman Scream (Grito de Mujer) cause but also, on
behalf of my country the Dominican
Republic.
I share this joy with my worldwide team for adopting my idea
with so much love and courage and, making it a shared dream. Thanks to my
Dominican team Eduardo, Gennie, Angelica, Erly, and the so many others who had
been by my side when going through it all. I wouldn’t have done it without
them.
I dedicate this award to my mom and dad, for teaching me the
value of silence and, the quality of speaking up for myself and others, to my
brothers and sisters, for being the reason for my writing and constant fight,
and to all the Dominican friends struggling to get their work into the open out
of our land. I wish them to know it is possible; I am here as proof.
Finally, I thank God all mighty, in whose hands, all justice
prevails.
Good evening,
Jael Uribe
President of Women
Poets International Movement
Founder of Woman
Scream International Poetry and Arts Festival