Something which I’d focused on throughout the trip in Brazil was the history of colonial exploitation in Bahia. There seems to be two dominant industries which was primarily responsible for bringing enslaved Africans across the Atlantic, being sugarcane and gold. However, following the abolition of slavery, exploitation continued to persist as colonial institutions held up. On our visit to Cachoeira, I contrasted their current industries and adaptation to the modern world to that of Lençoís, which had been a center of diamond mining. While in Cachoeira, we visited a ranch which had been there for so long, they pointed out where the Afro-Brazilian slaves had once slept. It’s now still a ranch but also has a restaurant. Lencois had similar places, such as the colonel’s house, which now operates as a hotel. It was fascinating to see how these physical markers of the past had transformed into something which either had adapted to the times or now served the community at large.
Something which I’d observed throughout the trip was a number of physical markers which had historical significance. For example, on our trip to Morro de São Paulo, there’s a zip-line which takes people from the top of a cliff down into the water near a beach. The zip-line is nestled into an old fortification, which still had a cast iron canon from the 17th century lying around. We’d been told the remaining canon was the one which had fired the first shot of a conflict with the Dutch during their attempted invasion of Brazil, and there it was, lying on the ground in the middle of a zip-line business. The same fortifications which had hosted a number of similar weapons and was the origin point for the conflict against the Dutch — a conflict whose success meant northern Brazil doesn’t speak exclusively Dutch — was now a zip-line spot. I still can’t get over it, despite how mundane it seemed to everyone else. Imagine if the pantheon, instead of being the staple of any trip to Athens, had a car dealership inside. Historically significant spots and the evolution of their role, whether that meant being repurposed or completely forgotten, has been an interesting thing to witness.
On a more political science oriented note, I continued to ask about folk’s memory of the military dictatorship from 1964-1985. I had some interesting conversations, but ultimately people either think of that era as the “good old days” or see it for the repressive force it used against the people of Brazil. One person I spoke with during a weekend family picnic despised the military dictatorship and likened Bolsonaro to the generals who’d overthrown the prior government. Another individual at the same picnic was less critical, but only omitted their indifference to the military regime since it didn’t really affect them in any way. The majority of those who do seem to think the dictatorship era was good happen to be majority white and middle class, whereas those who were against it were usually Afro-Brazilian and lower to middle class. I stopped asking after a few conversations since people seemed to get very passionate about the topic, and since my Portuguese is exceptionally limited (more complex ideas and conversations required a translator), it seemed appropriate to stop.
Brazil has been an incredibly enriching experience. The history, the cultures, the people themselves and the food enthralls my senses. Something I was somewhat afraid of before traveling was that I’d be more the “outsider looking in,” watching people have fun and enjoying their lives in the country while we just watched from afar. It was really quite the contrary, since everywhere we’ve gone the locals have roped us into their lives and their worlds and made us feel syncretic with the moment. I’ve told my host family I’ll return to Brazil in the future, hopefully with more Portuguese and more time to travel the country to try and experience all the diverse places it has to offer. There’s so much going on here, and it seems it’d take few lifetimes to really experience it all. My host folks just said if I’m stressing about experiencing as much as I can in Brazil, then “I’m doing it all wrong.”
By Eliana Schmaltz
After a quick three weeks filled to the brim with travel, tummy warming food, and good company, I finally had some time to slow down and reflect on what I have all experienced, observed, and learned. I was surrounded by people that I have known for such a short amount of time but still felt so comfortable and at home. As I sat watching the kids play at the party, my mom would circle around every so often to send more food in my direction, a lot of which she made herself for days in advance. My sister, Ana, covers for me and tells mom I ate my hot dog when I didn’t. I think the only word to describe how I was feeling was content.
I realized there were only moms and their kids at the birthday party. I asked Ana about this, and she said the dads typically see events like this as a waste of time. This stood out to me because Ana had emphasized how these big birthday celebrations were culturally very popular. Reflecting on my three weeks here, I realized how heavily my experience was influenced by women. I lived with my mom, Ana, and Clair. Multiple times a day our neighbor Louanna would come over as well as Mom’s daughter Amanda, Amanda’s girlfriend, and another lady that lives downstairs. While I couldn't always understand the language, I immediately could tell they were all strong, confident women. My subtopic for the course was violence against minorities. In Brazil it is estimated that one woman was affected by violence every four minutes in 2017 and an average of 13 women were murdered each day (Araujo 2021, 123). While I originally learned that this spring, the statistic became even more painful after being in Brazil. In another study, it was found that positions such as head of the family, family provider, and exacerbated sexuality are social attributes of masculinity that incite gender-based violence (Silva 2020). The literature surrounding violence against women, points to gender norms and toxic masculinity as being the driving factors of this generational and cultural violence. Looking within my household, my Mom strongly followed gender norms. On her “get to know me” form, she listed housework as her hobbies.
Within our apartment complex, the residents typically were middle aged and white. This didn’t surprise me seeing as we lived in a nice building and racial inequity is a major issue in Brazil. In 2006, Brazil moved slightly down in the ranking of the world's most unequal countries when it was moved from eighth to tenth (Pacheco 2008, 714). There was consistently construction going on throughout our route to ICR. Every person we saw performing manual labor throughout our three weeks was Black. Little instances like this were observable almost every day. For a country with such blatant racial inequities, it is shocking to see these issues overlooked.
While homicide occurs globally, we can statistically see that it happens at higher rates in Brazil than in most countries. This is especially true when we look specifically at the LGBT community. According to the World Health Statistics 2019, there were an estimated 477,000 deaths globally due to homicides in 2016. Brazil accounted for around 12.8% of this total, representing the seventh largest homicide rate in the Americas (WHO 2018). My mom's biological children and our host sister Ana are all part of the LGBT community. They do not hide it in public, which I only thought of because of the high rate of violence. The overwhelming amount of violence against minorities that I read about in the U.S. was heartbreaking to read. However, now that I have met people that fall into these vulnerable groups, I am even more disturbed by the danger. If my siblings are anxious about being a part of the statistic, they do not show it at all. If anything, their confidence within themselves seems to reflect their confidence that this violence can change too.
Araujo, Victor, and Malu A. C. Gatto. 2022. “Can Conservatism Make Women More Vulnerable to Violence?” Comparative Political Studies 55, no. 1: 122-153.
Pacheco, Tania. 2008. “Inequality, Environmental Injustice, and Racism in Brazil: Beyond the
Question of Colour.” Development in Practice 18, no. 6: 713–725.
Silva, Andrey Ferreira da, Nadirline Pereira Gomes, Júlia Renata Fernandes de Magalhães,
Fernanda Matheus Estrela, Anderson Reis de Sousa, Jordana Brock Carneiro. 2020.
“Social Attributes of the Male That Suscept the Violence by Intimate Partner.” Rev Bras
Enferm 73, no. 6 (June): 1-7.
World Health Organization (WHO). 2018. “World Health Statistics 2018: Monitoring Health for the SDGs.” WHO. https://www.who.int/gho/publications/world_health_statistics/2018/en/.
Eliana (Ellie) Schmaltz is a rising junior at the College of Saint Benedict. She is pursuing a degree in political science and sociology in the hopes to attend law school after graduation. After law school, she would like to be a family lawyer and give back to the community that raised her. Ellie is originally from a small town called Eden Valley located in Central Minnesota. She looks forward to learning more about Brazilian culture and experiencing everything the scenic country has to offer while studying abroad in Salvador.
By Clair Moonen
Just when I thought I was starting to be a Brazilian local, I was once again humbled by my Uber driver who called me loira burra Americana and I responded with “obrigada”. As my trip comes to a triste close, I have experienced my favorite events and workshops. Throughout the trip I got out of my comfort zone, I played basketball with kids, ziplined, ate questionable foods, and had difficult cultural discussions with my host sister. Something that was not so sunshine, and rainbows were that with every great or cheap experience I had, it came at a cost. I learned of a new feeling of helplessness every time I only paid a few USD for an item knowing it was so available and cheap at the expense of the vendor. Visiting islands where you stay for a few nights in a luxury hotel as the man who sold you a bracelet for $3 USD relies on tourism to feed his family is not a good feeling. Pedro taught us to embrace the uncomfortable, analyze it, process it, and proceed accordingly.
In my pre-departure research, I focused on elections and representation. This has been a reoccurring interest in my trip here as I try to interconnect themes of the said proposal because it is what I have the most background on. Women are the largest majority of voters in Bahia and yet we don’t see women in positions of power (Santiago, ICR Lecture May 27, 2022). One of the themes that have been most prominent to me has been taking up space. Whether creating opportunities for one group of people or removing another to create more equal space. While this concept isn’t new to me in regard to gender inequality, I didn’t know how true this theory would be reoccurring in my everyday life here.
A prime example of taking up space is the efforts implemented to amplify women’s voices and guarantee their rights and protection. The law Lei Maria da Penha was created in 2006 to combat domestic violence and give women a support system. Taking up space by being present, saying loud and clear “I’m here” and that there are countless people and resources behind these women. Federal Deputy Candidate and founder of Ronda Maria da Penha in Salvador, Major Denise Santiago, gave us a lecture on the challenges of being a woman in Brazil. As a general rule of thumb, where there are traditionally male-dominated spaces, there become issues targeting women. “The concept of femicide was identified as the murder of women due to their being women, a crime defined by Diana Russel1 as a type of sexual terrorism, a social mechanism for keeping women under control, in a public masculine manifestation of power” (Meneghel et. al, 2017).
Violence against women is a problem that Major Santiago believe needs to be eliminated by women as we are the only ones who know the struggle. She believes to accomplish this education is a necessary vessel. This was instilled in us during our primary and secondary school talks where we learned how women are left out of STEM and male-dominated fields even though they attend school longer. I admire how Major Santiago enforces a feminist movement. Feminism, “can be seen as a result of many factors: changes in women’s position in Brazilian society, cumulative action of feminist movements and organizations in the country, the growth of feminist values in international media, the role of the internet in young people sociability” (Biroli, 2016). I think Major Santiago is part of and a catalyst of this change.
As previously mentioned, the opportunity isn’t equitable. Women between 25 and 44 years old finish high school more than me- 6% more and yet with more schooling ear less than men (Santiago, ICR Lecture May 27, 2022). So statistically, women should be the majority in these spaces yet are minimized to the point that in Salvador the police force has been around 197 years with only 32 years with women in uniform. Major Santiago has climbed to the highest rank a woman can be in the police force and is campaigning to keep pushing the status quo. Elections are all about resources and financials and she is building an army of her own resources- women. By running for office, Major Santiago demonstrates taking up space for the sake of those who come after her. Over the 7 years, 4,000 women were protected by Ronda Maria da Penha and none of them experienced it again.
A group of people that take up space that isn’t necessarily good are the police. When we went to my favorite event, the Bahia futebol game, I was in disbelief that they had riot police at every corner. As a Caucasian female, I have not been subject to or had fear of, police violence. If anything, as a woman I feel better with that presence because of harassment or gender violence. It seemed unnecessary and almost performatively intimidating to see the police head to toe in gear and holding giant guns. I knew I wasn’t their target audience. When Major Santiago spoke to us, she mentioned that police as so abundant in futebol stadiums. These numbers were because research showed after soccer matches violence increased by 27% (which is only known because 911 (190) calls increased- not reporting) depending on the outcome of the game (Santiago, ICR Lecture May 27, 2022). I have learned how thin the line is between negative and positive police presence. I don’t blame women for sitting closer to Ronda Maria da Penha in stadiums just as I don’t blame people of color for being afraid of the same situation. In Brazil, the most disturbing criminal activity is the violence perpetrated by these police (French, 2013). The police occupying urban and public spaces creating violence and safety should be at the top of politicians’ agendas and campaigns. Yet politicians and government officials, echoed by the media, distance themselves powerfully from police behavior (French, 2013). Understanding the double-edged sword that policing is I think is crucial to being a good human being.
Biroli, Flávia Political violence against women in Brazil: expressions and definitions. Revista Direito e Práxis [en linea]. 2016, 7(15), 557-589[fecha de Consulta 29 de Mayo de 2022]. ISSN: . Disponible en: https://www.redalyc.org/articulo.oa?id=350947688018
French, Jan Hoffman. “Rethinking Police Violence in Brazil: Unmasking the Public Secret of Race.” Latin American Politics and Society 55, no. 4 (2013): 161–81. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43286490.
Meneghel, Stela Nazareth, Bruna Alexandra Rosa, Roger Flores Ceccon, Vania Naomi Hirakata, and Ian Meneghel Danilevicz. “Feminicídios: Estudo Em Capitais e Municípios Brasileiros De Grande Porte Populacional.” Ciência & Saúde Coletiva 22, no. 9 (2017): 2963–70. https://doi.org/10.1590/1413-81232017229.22732015.
Santiago, Denise ICR Lecture May 27, 2022
By Miriam Nelson
Like most other cities, Salvador, Brazil has its fair share of garbage in the streets and on the sidewalks. Through walking or witnessing the environment from a bus window, colorful assorted plastics, cardboard, cans, and other refuse is sprinkled along roadsides or piled alongside large dumpsters. Occasionally, garbage bags are tipped on their sides, spilling their contents in the drainage system destined to arrive in the ocean. In 2018, Brazil produced 79 million tons of urban physical waste—where 72.2 million tons were collected, and 6.3 million tons remained uncollected (Souza 2018). This level of urban waste coincides with a variety of problems. One in 12 Brazilians have no regular waste collection, recycling rates are stagnant, and many still must learn how to properly sort trash and recycling (for its environmental and health purposes) (Souza 2018). An important aspect of Brazil’s waste and recycling system are waste pickers, known as “catadores.” The estimated 200,000 to 800,000 catadores within Brazil have been formally recognized by law but still face stigma around their work (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.).
Along the sidewalks, I have frequently seen catadores picking through trash bags and trashcans, occasionally pulling out recyclables of value (these include plastic bottles, glass bottles, aluminum cans—and in some cases, cardboard). Many that I have seen do not wear protective equipment, walking through concentrated areas of garbage with flip flops and no gloves. Catadores earn roughly 400 reals a month, which is under Brazil’s national minimum wage of 500 reals a month. Working conditions are difficult, with frequent exposure to hazardous materials and contaminated waste (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d; Gutberlet et al. 2013). “As in other countries, their direct contact with contaminated waste renders them susceptible to diseases and consequently a lower life expectancy” (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.). Occasionally, Catadores may temporarily store hazardous materials (car batteries, metals, electronic waste) at home, placing not only themselves but others at risk. Organized waste picking is more common in the global South than the North, where members of cooperatives work with non-governmental and governmental organizations in collection, separation, and commercialization of recyclable materials (Gutberlet et al. 2013). As I have seen, those who are part of a cooperative may wear a uniform and some protective equipment, such as gloves. Although sometimes organized, turnover in these positions remains high.
Environmental justice considerations are critical when examining the work and working conditions of the catadores.
Environmental justice is a well-established field of social activism that draws attention to and seeks ways to ameliorate such risks and injustices. Environmental justice activists have also called for recognition of communities as unfairly affected and insist on being seen and heard by both a mainstream environmental movement and a government that has, for the most part, ignored them (Young 2016, 96).
As seen above, working conditions can be hazardous—with catadores working strenuous 12-hour days and facing exposure to contaminated waste. Low incomes, as well as lessened access to education and healthcare, are markers of the inequality faced by individuals in this career (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.). Other factors, such as stigmatization around waste picking, leave catadores more vulnerable. Further research could be conducted on various aspects of catadores’ lives (political and social) with an environmental justice lens, to understand how policy can further decrease social and economic disparities.
Catadores are critical for increasing both economic circularity and environmental quality, furthering the need for social protections. This may be done by recognizing the contributions of catadores in order to increase social standing (Amorim de Oliveira 2021, 830). In the past, this has included 2001 Federal Legislation which recognized waste picking as a profession in the Brazilian Occupation Classification—allowing for the career to be monitored and positioned in official statistics (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.). Another notable (globally recognized) policy is the 2010 National Policy of Solid Waste sanctioned by President Lula. The policy employs the use of the reverse logistics system, which “makes the generator of waste responsible for the return of recyclables to the productive chain after consumption, which, in turn, increases the volume of activity for the waste picker” (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.). The policy further “necessitated the availability of fiscal and financial incentives for the recycling industry, for the development of regional programs in partnership with waste picker organizations, and to facilitate the structuring of these organizations” (Global Alliance of Waste Pickers, n.d.). Although Brazil has more protective legislation for catadores than other countries, reducing inequality for workers (living conditions, education, healthcare, etc.) must still be at the forefront of discussion (reduction of the stigma around waste picking) and policymaking.
Amorim de Oliveira, Í. Environmental Justice and Circular Economy: Analyzing Justice for Waste Pickers in Upcoming Circular Economy in Fortaleza, Brazil. (2021). https://doi.org/10.1007/s43615-021-00045-w
Global Alliance of Waste Pickers. “Law Report: Brazil.” Accessed May 26, 2022. https://globalrec.org/law-report/brazil/.
Gutberlet, Jutta, Angela M. Baeder, Nídia N. Pontuschka, Sonia M.N. Felipone, and Tereza L.F. Dos Santos. 2013. "Participatory Research Revealing the Work and Occupational Health Hazards of Cooperative Recyclers in Brazil," International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health 10, no. 10: 4607-4627. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph10104607.
Souza, Ludmilla. 2018. “Brazil generates 79 million tons of solid waste every year.” Agência Brasil. August 11, 2018. https://agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br/en/geral/noticia/2019-11/brazil-generates-79-million-tons-solid-waste-every-year.
Young, Andrea Ferraz. 2016. “Adaptation Actions for Integrated Climate Risk Management into Urban Planning: A New Framework from Urban Typologies to Build Resilience Capacity in Santos.” City, Territory and Architecture: An Interdisciplinary Debate on Project Perspectives 3 (1): 1–17. https://doi.org/10.1186/s40410-016-0042-0.
Miriam Nelson is a rising senior at the College of Saint Benedict, majoring in environmental studies and political science. She is from Blue Hill, Maine. Miriam is interested in a wide range of topics including international environmental policy, water conflicts, and land trusts. She highly enjoys spending time outside performing backcountry trail work, backpacking, paddleboarding, and birding.
By Kathryn McDonough
In our class before coming to Brazil, we learned about the importance of dance, carnaval, and music to the Brazilian identity. While in Brazil I was able to see the importance of music and dance first hand through our lectures/workshops and observation. My time in Brazil would not be the same without dance and music. While in Salvador it immediately became evident that music and dance are essential to Brazilian culture and the importance of African influences within the culture.
Our first experience with music and dance was on our first full day in Salvador. We had a workshop on Capoeira (which isn’t necessarily dance but in a similar category). In this workshop we learned what Capoeira is, how to do it step by step, and the instruments involved. I did not know anything about Capoeira so it was really fun to see a demonstration and then learn step by step how to do it myself. We also learned the music for Capoeira. It was amazing to hear each instrument individually and then all together. After seeing the individual pieces of the music and moves, I had a new perspective. This first experience with Capoeira sparked my interest and made me want to learn more.
After this experience with Capoeira, we saw Capoeira multiple other instances. At our hotel in Lencois, we watched some students perform Capoeira. I loved this experience because I was able to see Capoeira in action and it was enjoyable to watch because the students had a lot of fun. Seeing this many people doing Capoeira was beneficial because I was able to see the impact that it had on people's lives and how important Capoeira is to the Brazilian identity. Besides our required Capoeira related events, I observed Capoeira in many other places. Throughout the city there are murals of Capoeira related things, the Capoeira instruments being played or displayed, and groups of people practicing Capoeira on the streets or in organized groups such as schools.
In addition to Capoeira, I was able to see the impact of music and dance in various other instances. One example of this was the Folkloric Ballet. This ballet showed me the importance of music and dance to Afro-Brazilians. At the ballet, I felt like I was learning a story. It wasn’t just music and dance it was so much more. No words were spoken but we all knew what was being shared or what the mood/ tone was. The ballet had multiple scenes that depicted different things. Each of these scenes told a different part of the story. Some of the scenes were about slavery and the life and suffering of Afro-Brazilians. There was even a scene that consisted of Capoeira, which re-emphasized its cultural importance. In these scenes, I could see that music and dance were used as an outlet for all the bad things that happened. When all rights were taken away from Afro-Brazilians, they only had music and dance. This has shaped the culture and defined Brazil. I was also able to learn more about the importance of music in our percussion workshop.
As I mentioned previously, in our Capoeira workshop I had the unique experience of learning about each of the individual instruments in the music for Capoeira and then how the music sounds all together. Therefore, I knew a little bit about the instruments in the percussion workshop. However, in this workshop I learned about a lot more instruments and even got to play one! While learning about each instrument we learned about the origin of the instrument, quite a few had African influences or were from Africa. Hence, we see Afro-Brazilian culture shapes music and dance and music and dance shape Afro-Brazilian culture.
I learned about dance in many other instances as well. My most memorable activity related to dance was the Afro-Brazilian dance workshop. In this workshop, we were taught multiple different dances (some more challenging than others but all fun). I learned the differences between dance here and dance in America. Our dance instructor, Antonio Cozido, “connected us to Salvador” and taught us what it meant to be from Bahia. While learning the dance and listening to Antonio, I again learned the importance of dance to the Brazilian identity. We learned about the African elements in the dances. In our classes before Brazil, we also learned about the African elements in samba, “By the 1940s, the language of discourse about samba had already become an intense debate over “authenticity,” that is over which form of samba was the most Brazilian, which really meant the version most deeply shaped by “African” influence” (Eakin). We see that samba had a large amount of African influence, which impacted Brazil and the rest of the world due to the popularization of samba.
In conclusion, my time in Bahia and my in class learning has taught me the importance of dance and music. While here, I’ve been able to observe how essential music and dance are to the Brazilian identity and that a large amount of the dances and music have African influences. I learned about the significance and importance of music and dance here and how it differs from music and dance in America. When returning to the United States, I will have a new perspective and appreciation for music and dance.
Sapoti, Mestre. “Workshop on Capoeira” Workshop at ICR Brasil, May 11, 2022.
Cozido, Antonio. “Workshop about Afro Brazilian Dance” Workshop at ICR Brasil, May 17, 2022.
Pam, Mario. “Percussion Workshop” Workshop at studio in Garcia, May 18, 2022. “Folkloric Ballet” May 18, 2022.
Eakin, Marshall C. “Communicating and Understanding Mestiçagem: Radio, Samba, and Carnaval.” Chapter. In Becoming Brazilians: Race and National Identity in Twentieth-Century Brazil, 79–106. New Approaches to the Americas. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017. doi:10.1017/9781316800058.004.
I am Kathryn McDonough. I was born and raised in Faribault, Minnesota. I’m a senior math major at CSBSJU. I enjoy applied mathematics and am currently planning on becoming an actuary. When studying abroad in Brazil I hope to immerse myself into the culture and gain a new perspective of the world.
By: Fabian Venegas-Ramos and Lizbet Martinez
On campus, we conducted research on trans experiences, rights, and activism in Brazil, which painted an image we had of Brazil prior to our study abroad experience, particularly one where the rights and dignity of trans people are not protected and upheld. Trans people, at the intersection of race and class, are one of the most marginalized and oppressed groups in Brazil, with growing numbers of trans violence and murders, and a myriad of obstacles caused by transphobia, like discrimination in employment, education, healthcare, and access to gender-affirming services. According to the local activist group, the National Association of Transvestites and Transsexuals, “175 trans people were killed in 2020” (Thomas 2021). Additionally, data from Trans Murder Monitoring reveals that Brazil is the number one country with the highest rate of trans murders, which disproportionately consists of Black trans people (Rodriguez 2019). During our time here in Salvador, Brazil, we have been able to make observations regarding LGBTQ+ inclusion, listen to guest speakers, and even navigate being trans in Brazil (Fabian).
We were fortunate to have listened to a lecture from Viviane Vergueiro. The informal conversation centered around the challenges that trans people face in Brazil as well as the work that she does that helps combat these challenges. Through this lecture, we learned about the various types of discrimination and violence that the LGBTQ+ community encounter in the education and healthcare systems. She explained to us that it isn’t uncommon for certain doctors to turn away patients because they are trans. Braz finds this in his research stating, “From the interviews, many of the conflicts experienced in doctor’s offices could be avoided if they [interviewees] had their gender identities respected” (2019, p. 5). The acceptance of gender identity, particularly in healthcare, is important for trans people to receive dignified and quality treatment.
Viviane ultimately reinforced much of our findings from our research conducted on campus. As a trans person living in Brazil, these narratives highlight how cultural, social, and political changes are needed to improve the daily lives and experiences of trans people in Brazil. She states that much of the violence trans people experience is rendered invisible and such violence is racialized, which are part of the ongoing extermination project of trans people by the colonial state. This is in part fueled by religious ideologies that are weaponized against trans bodies, particularly through a pathologizing, invasive gaze that mark trans people as “other.” Additionally, Viviane powerfully stated that being indifferent to the violence trans people and other marginalized communities experience is an act of violence and fuels the settler colonial project. Thus, it is critical to be aware of the issues different communities face, to care, and to take action to change the social and material realities of trans people in society.
My experience as a trans feminine person visiting Brazil has been a positive one (Fabian); however, trans Brazilians have a very different reality from mine, which is largely shaped by the protection my privileged class and national identities offer me. This includes navigating Brazilian contexts as a student and tourist, which have been limited to public areas. On one hand, I navigate the public areas that are considered main points of violence and discrimination for trans people, including but not limited to harassment, physical attacks, verbal abuse (Calling 2020, p. 7). Fortunately for me, walking in and being part of a crowd with White Americans comes with protection and equal treatment. On the other hand, I have also not had to experience institutional violence from navigating the different institutions in Brazil such as the workforce, the education system, the healthcare system, among others, which have been recognized as being violent for trans bodies. As argued by one researcher, waiting is an essential category for describing the experiences of trans men in Brazil, particularly in healthcare settings (Braz 2019, p. 1). Waiting reveals structural power dynamics, which shape trans peoples’ experiences in healthcare settings. This shows how mundane daily activities like waiting are shaped by gender dynamics, which have profound consequences for marginalized gendered peoples and implications for their health and wellbeing. This is one example of the complex and nuanced experiences trans people have when navigating institutions in society.
The LGBTQ+ scene is visible in Bahia, especially within the nightlife scene. In Salvador, where we have been living, LGBTQ+ couples walk around freely, and I haven’t noticed those around them staring or judging them (Lizbet). There were also plenty of options for gay bars in the area. Viviane spoke to us about the increasing use of inclusive pronouns and changing gendered language. From Vianna we learn that “Despite certain level of permeability of the Lula government to women and LGBT movements…the power relations that determined the tradition of parameters supporting gender relations in our society still limit the possibilities of consolidating concepts such as gender and sexual diversity as defining factors for public policies in education and, in so doing, destabilizing heteronormativity and, above all, homophobia” (2015, p. 800). While there has been some progress in previous years, there is still a lot of resistance to the inclusion of LGBT rights to the government’s agenda when it comes to public policy. Our hope for the future is that with more education and people coming to together in support, the people of Brazil can further push for LGBTQ+ rights and will be heard.
Braz, Camilo. 2019. “Lives on hold? Itineraries in access by trans men to health services in Brazil and Argentina.” Cadernos de Saude Publica 35(4): 1-11 doi: 10.1590/0102-311X00110518
Calling, Nikita Lourenço. 2020. “Stigmatization and Discrimination: A Qualitative Case Study of the Transgender Community in Brazil.” Lund University
Rodrigues-Sherley, Marcela, and Karla J. Strand. “Activism Is Survival for Brazilian Trans Women.” Ms. Magazine, October 9, 2019. https://msmagazine.com/2019/08/01/activism-is-survival-for-brazilian-trans-women/.
Thomas, Jennifer Ann. “Threats against Trans Councilwomen Stir Violence Fears in Brazil.” Reuters. Thomson Reuters, February 5, 2021. https://www.reuters.com/article/us-brazil-lgbt-rights-trfn-idUSKBN2A52EF.
Vianna, Claudia P. 2015. “The LGBT movement and the gender and sexual diversity education policies: losses, gains and challenges.” Educação e Pesquisa 41(3) https://doi.org/10.1590/s1517-97022015031914
Fabian Venegas-Ramos is from Immokalee, Florida. They are a senior, soon to be graduate of the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John's University. They will be receiving their bachelor's degree in Sociology and Gender Studies. Fabian is passionate about social justice, and queer and trans rights and activism. They look forward to immersing themselves in the Brazilian culture through music, dance, and food!
Lizbet Martinez-Port is a senior at the College of Saint Benedict studying political science and Hispanic studies. She is from Minneapolis, Minnesota and enjoys learning about topics that intersect within her majors. She is passionate about immigration reform, as well as other social justice issues. On campus, she sings, dances, and acts. She looks forward to learning about a new culture and language during her time abroad in Brazil.
By Kailee Hagl and Hailee Thayer.
Candomblé is one of many Afro-Brazilian religions that are present in Brazil. Candomblé, along with the other religions, are key aspects of Brazilian culture and heritage. To understand Candomblé, one needs to understand how it was made. Candomblé was made through syncretism. Syncretism is the “process by which elements of 1 religion are assimilated into another religion resulting in a change in the nature of the religion. It creates an entirely new religion” (Lecture on Umbanda and Candomblé, May 16, 2022). This syncretism can be seen in the Sisterhood of Good Death, which practices both Catholic and Candomblé traditions. Cachoeira (where the Sisterhood of Good Death is located) has become a major place for Candomblé and for the preservation of African culture and origins (Lecture on African Diaspora, May 19, 2022). This preservation is a key part of Candomblé because the traditions and histories are passed down to Mãe or Pai de Santo and they are tasked with keeping the information safe. We also learned that there are about an even number of women and men leading the Terreiros, which is vastly different from Catholicism where women are not allowed to be priests.
During Candomblé ceremonies, and even just on Fridays, white is typically worn. For women, a white dress is the usual, and for men, white pants and a white top is normal (Shirey 2012). Our host mom dresses in all white on Fridays along with white beads to represent Oxalá, one of the 12 Orixás. In Candomblé, practioners worship 12 spirits, or gods, called Orixás. The Orixás that are recognized in Brazil are Oxalá, Lemanjá, Xangô, Iansã, Oxóssi, Ogum, Oxum, Exú, Omulu, Nanã, Ossaim, and Oxumaré (Guess which one(s) are Hailee’s). Each Orixá is associated with a color and nature element as well as having a unique symbol.
I was not allowed to watch Hailee have her shells read, so I waited outside with our host parents. While waiting, I was allowed to take pictures of the outside of the Terreiro. The Terreiro is similar to a church, or place of worship. It is also referred to as a house. The walls were sculpted beautifully with the various Orixás, some finished with color and some not. Outside of the gate, the walls and sidewalk were also sculpted with the faces of the Orixás. Our host dad, Jorge, said everything was sculpted by hand, and is similar to papier mâché. He said it takes a long time to fully complete a sculpture as the details must be perfected before the paint can be added on.
I took this time to interview our dad about the positions or roles they have in this specific Terreiro of Candomblé, since they are practioners. Jorge said his role was to take videos and photos for the Terreiro. He said he also helps prepare for special occasions. Our host mom, Licia, said her role was to prepare food for the Terreiro, and most importantly to make sure the Orixás have everything they need and want. As people were walking in and out of sections of the Terreiro, Jorge and Licia were telling me which Orixás they were. It was interesting because they carried themselves and were dressed in a way that mirrored their Orixás. Finally, since outsiders were not allowed to take photos or videos of the inside of the Terreiro especially while a reading is in session, Jorge was able to show me some of the videos he had taken. Although I did get to go inside of the Terreiro before Hailee had her reading, I did not have much time to get a good look at anything, so it was awesome that Jorge had all this footage of the inside due to his role in Candomblé.
At the beginning of the trip, I had no idea that I would learn about Afro-Brazilian Religions. Fast forward a couple of weeks and here I am, partaking in a ritual to learn which Orixá is mine and about my life. In the weeks before this, we had a lecture with Pai Alcides about how Candomblé is practiced. He shared that before he started his journey in the religion, he would have seizures (Lecture on Candomblé Practices, May 16, 2022). Ailments like seizures are common among those who were drawn to Candomblé. Injuries or sicknesses are a way for the Orixás to communicate and pull the person towards Candomblé. Something similar was happening to me, but I was having dreams instead of sicknesses or injuries. I had multiple dreams that I was getting my shells read (the ritual I mentioned earlier). The shells are a form of divination that a Mae or Pai do Santos uses to communicate with the Orixás. I did not have just one dream either, it was multiple. The dreams were explained in my reading as a way my Orixás were ‘calling’ me to the Terreiro.
My host parents are practioners of Candomblé and took me to their Terreiro, Bábataósilé. Their Pai do Santos, Pai Mario, was the one who did my shell reading. During the reading I was told who my Orixás are and how they can affect my life. My Orixás are Xangô, Ogum, and Oxalá. Xangô is the strongest one along with Ogum. Both Orixás are warriors. Pai Mario said that these two warriors explain why I am feisty. Along with being a warrior Xangô is associated with lighting and thunder and Ogum is associated with war and iron
During the shell reading, I found out various things about my life and about previous events that happened. Through the shells, Pai Mario was able to see health problems in my family (both my grandparents had recent shoulder surgeries; they’re fine don’t worry). My Orixás were able to communicate with me through Pai Mario and said to be careful with betrayal in my life (which had happened earlier this year). There was so much that was explained in this ritual that it is hard to put it into words. After my reading, Pai Mario told me which colored beads I should have based on my Orixás. My host parents gifted me a white and red strand to represent them.
Pai Alcides. “Lecture on Candomblé Practices” May 16, 2022. Salvador, Bahia, Brazil.
Santos, Willys. Lecture on “Umbanda and Candomblé: The History, Tenets, and Practices” May
16, 2022, Salvador, Brazil.
Vatin, Xavier. “The African Diaspora in Bahia: A Socio-Anthropological Perspective” May 19,
2022. Cachoeira, Bahia, Brazil.
Shirey, Heather. 2012. “Candomblé Beads and Identity in Salvador Da Bahia,
Brazil.” Nova Religion: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions 16 (1): 36–60. https://doi.org/10.1525/nr.2012.16.1.36.
Kailee Hagl is a junior at CSB/SJU and is majoring in Political Science with a focus on law. She also is pursuing a minor in Hispanic Studies, as well as a minor in Latin American Studies. She is originally from Sauk Centre, Minnesota. Kailee enjoys learning about politics in other countries, social justice issues, and analyzing court cases. She looks forward to applying her experience abroad to her academics in her final year at CSB/SJU.
Hailee Thayer recently graduated from the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John's University with a major in Political Science and a minor in Gender Studies. She is from Prior Lake Minnesota. Hailee enjoys learning about the intersection of gender and aspects of everyday life as well as political representation. Hailee also enjoys reading in her free time and playing rugby.
By Ellie Nielsen & Morgan Ebel
Before coming to Brazil, the class completed research projects in different areas. Ours happened to be violence against minorities and the one we decided to focus on was violence against women. Women make up over half of Brazil’s population. Yet they face extreme violence day in and day out. In the nation it is estimated that one woman was affected by violence every four minutes in 2017 and an average of 13 women were murdered each day (Araujo 2021, 123). That was just in 2017. It is a trend in Brazil that violence altogether is very high, especially, through and since the pandemic. More specifically violence against women is continuing to rise as well. In a study published in 2016, researchers broke up their study into two periods 2007-2009 and 2011-2013. 58 municipalities in Brazil partook in the research. They found that between the two periods of time there was an overall 10 percent increase of female deaths by aggression (Ceccon 2016, 2965). Each year since, there has been an expected increase of femicide. Femicide is a concept that was first described by Diana Russel as being a murder of a woman due to the victim being a woman. Russel further accounted femicide to being an act of sexual terrorism on top of it working as a mechanism for keeping women under control (Ceccon 2016, 2964). To say the least, knowing these statistics, traveling to this new country, and Pedro getting robbed the first night was quite a terrifying experience for the females on this trip. The first topic to understand is how gender norms and masculinity play a role in the continual increase of violence against women. Another large facet that is laid out in this research is the relationship between one’s race and gender. Lastly, we will touch on the lecture given to us by Major Denice Santiago from the Ronda Maria da Penha organization.
Gender norms and toxic masculinity are leading causes of increased violence against women. A study was conducted to examine whether women delegated police stations in Salvador, Bahia created a more just system for women. The work looked at gender bias within the police force and found that its environment was more welcoming to women when run by women. The women in these systems were better fit to understand other female perspectives whereas men often felt the need to assert dominance and power. Prime aspects of the police system culture include hierarchal logic where positive value is associated with strong-arm versions of masculinity and negative value is associated with weakness and impotence in femininity (Hatzinger 2002, 146). Another study focused on the relationship between female morality and socioeconomic and demographic status in capital cities. This research found that women that acquire sexual and economic autonomy put themselves at greater risk of femicide as they place themselves against situations of subordination (Ceccon 2016, 2967). On the topic of race, black women in Brazil are two times more likely to face the risk of dying compared to white women (Ceccon 2016, 2965). Studies show that between 60 percent to 70 percent of murders committed against women are chalked up to be femicide and a nerving number of those femicides are young, poor, members of different ethnic minorities, migrants, or sex workers (Ceccon 2016, 2964). It is obvious that women within these minority groups are at an even greater risk of femicide.
Major Santiago first brought our attention to the many challenges women face in Brazil. Women deal with issues regarding wages, social equality, femicide, violence, and much more. Major Santiago brought us the statistic that in Brazil, women between the ages 25 to 44 years old, 21.5% more women finish high school, but earn 23.5% less than men. Further, women only make up 10% of CEOs in the country (Santiago, 2022). From this we can already tell that, in the larger society, women are held to different standards than men and are severely discriminated against. These are similar circumstances to those in the United States therefore, we can relate on some level. However, what we cannot be blind to is the alarming rates, as made clear above, women face violence in Brazil. It is because of these outstanding numbers that Ronda Maria da Penha was founded on March 8, 2015, on international women’s day and named after 11.340/06 Law Maria da Penha. Maria da Penha is a real woman whose husband tried to kill her, twice! Before this law was passed, when a wife would report an incident of violence, the husband would only get community service (Santiago, 2022). This law brought forward five types of violence – physical, moral, sexual, property or possession, and psychological. This is important to put forward in order to educate the public on domestic violence and abuse – which is one of the organization's goals. Along with the main cause being to protect women after they press charges against their partners. In the 7 years that Ronda Maria da Penha has been fighting this battle, all 4,000 women that have been protected by the organization have never faced violence again (Santiago, 2022). All in all, this institution has reached a massive number of people, yet Major Santiago reminds us that the society has a long way to go in regard to violence against women.
It is easy to see that there are serious issues surrounding violence against women in Brazil, and ones that have caused extremely unsafe environments for all women. Major Santiago touched on the inequality all women in Brazil face. However, we see that women of color are even more likely to fall victim to violence. We also acknowledge that many of these issues are often caused by toxic masculinity and the need for power and dominance. While there are some reforms happening, Brazil must continue to fight against these violence's to lessen its tolls. The relationship between race and gender is essential to continue learning about in the wake of this catastrophic violence epidemic.
Araujo, Victor, and Malu A. C. Gatto. 2022. “Can Conservatism Make Women More Vulnerable to Violence?” Comparative Political Studies 55, no. 1: 122-153.
Ceccon, Roger Flores, Ian Meneghel Danilevicz, Vania Naomi Hirakata, Stela Nazareth Meneghel, and Bruna Alexandra Rocha da Rosa. 2016. “Femicides: a study in Brazilian state capital cities and large municipalities.” Ciencia & saude coletiva 22, no. 9 (January): 2963-2970.
Hatzinger, Sarah. 2002. “Criminalizing Male Violence in Brazil’s Women’s Police Stations: From Flawed Essentialism to Imagined Communities.” Journal of Gender Studies 11, no 3: 243-251.
Santiago, Denice. “Challenges of Women in Brazil.” Class lecture at Institute Clara Ramos, Salvador, Brazil, May 26, 2022.
Ellie Nielsen is a rising junior at CSBSJU. She is a psychology major with a focus in criminal psychology, as well as a political science minor. She and her family are from Farmington, Minnesota. She likes to read, spend time outside, and be surrounded by friends and family.
Morgan Ebel is a sophomore at the College of St. Benedict and the University of St. John’s University. She is originally from Farmington, Minnesota (no, she does not live on a farm). Morgan enjoys reading, working out (yoga, lifting, basketball, etc.) and spending time with her puppy named Teddy.
Morgan is pursuing a degree in political science and a minor in sociology. Hopefully attaining a law degree in the near future.
By Brianna Kreft
She joined the police force when she was eighteen years old. She founded a violence against women faction in the police force. She was the first Black woman to run for mayor of Salvador, Brazil. She is the one and only Major Denise Santiago.
During our second week in Brazil, we had the chance to meet with Major Denise Santiago for a lecture on the challenges of being a woman in Brazil, or more specifically, the violence that women face in Brazil. Major Denise is a major in the Salvador Police Department, and has been with the force for thirty-two years. She works in a division called Ronda Maria da Penha, which is dedicated to protecting women against violence. Major Denise shared the history of the important legislation that forbids domestic violence against women and told us about the women’s violence prevention programs that Ronda Maria da Penha has founded.
First, Major Denise taught us about Lei 11.340/06, the piece of legislation that forbids domestic violence against women. Lei 11.340/06, or more commonly known as Lei Maria da Penha, is named after a woman who suffered excessive violence at the hands of her husband, but did not receive help from the police. Her husband tried to kill her not once, but twice. The first time, her husband shot her and she was paralyzed from the waist down. The second time, the husband tried to electrocute her while she was in the bath. After reporting both these tragedies, Maria still did not receive any assistance from the police. Major Denise said that this was because Brazil’s culture says that if a husband and wife—or partners of any sort—are arguing, outsiders are supposed to stay out of it. It is between the couple, and no one is supposed to intervene. That did not stop Maria. She gathered a group of women and took her case to the United States, where she was able to make enough noise that the Brazilian police force finally had to listen to her. Before this law, if women reported domestic violence, their partner would either not receive any punishment, or only be sentenced to community service. Thanks to Maria’s hard work and dedication, Lei 11.340/06 created protection for women against domestic violence.
Lei Maria da Penha outlaws five types of violence against women. The first is physical violence. This is the most common type for the police to reprimand, because it is the most visible. Women will have bruises, scars, or in extreme cases, even missing limbs. The second type of violence that is forbidden with this law is moral violence. This means that a male partner cannot use degrading language toward a woman in public. The key word here is in public. If a woman is being morally violated within private spaces, it is much more difficult for them to be protected. The third type of violence that is protected is sexual violence. Sexual violence, according to this law, applies not only to martial rape, but also to the man’s power over the woman’s use of contraceptives. It forbids the male partner from banning the female’s use of contraceptives. Patrimonial violence is the fourth type of violence that is protected under Lei Maria de Penha. This refers to violence against a woman’s possessions. A male partner cannot use violence against their female partner’s documents, money, or assets or any kind. The final type of violence is psychological violence. This is the most difficult kind of violence to protect against because it does not leave marks that the human eye can see. It is emotional abuse that damages a woman’s mental well-being and self-confidence. All five of these types of violence are protected against by Lei Mari de Penha.
Major Denise went on to tell us about the prevention work that the Ronda Maria da Penha facilitates. One of the prevention programs is called Espelho. Espelho is a board game that Major Denise created herself. Women play the game and encounter realistic situations that depict different kinds of domestic violence. After reading a card and its given situation, the woman chooses how she would act in that situation. If she asserts self-confidence, she moves ahead a few spaces. If she takes the side of the aggressor, she moves back a few spaces. This game is played with fellow women, to build confidence. Another prevention program headed by this police division is the Ronda Para Homens. This is a group of only male officers who talk with men about women’s violence in an attempt to dissuade future violence. Jogos de Futebol is another prevention program that the Ronda Maria da Penha has created. The division found that after soccer matches, domestic violence against women increased by 27%, because male partners got upset about the outcome of the match and took it out on the women. So, Ronda Maria da Penha increased their presence inside Bahia soccer stadiums, and led a soccer themed campaign with the slogan “violence against women is a serious penalty.” Finally, Ronda Maria de Penha leads a violence prevention during carnaval called Carnaval Com a Ronda. This program increases police presence in both private and public parties, focused on spotting violence against women.
Major Denise Santiago has been an agent of change for women’s violence in Brazil. When her days get hard, she remembers one word: Sororidade. This means sorority. Major Denise’s belief in sororidade led her to run for mayor of Salvador, because she knows that only women can create public policies that protect women. She believes that women must not compete with each other. Instead, they must lift up the sororidade. To end her lecture, Major Denise left us with a beautiful sentiment. She said that to her, sororidade is like a mosaic. We [women] are all one piece of this mosaic. When one woman has an achievement, we are all happy for her. When one of us is murdered, it hurts us all, because we are all pieces of one mosaic. It is this sororidade that connects all women and will protect all women.
Brianna Kreft is a senior at CSB/SJU, majoring in Political Science, and minoring in Environmental Studies and Psychology. She is originally from Elbow Lake, Minnesota. Brianna enjoys learning about gender issues and women’s empowerment. She has participated in multiple research opportunities focused on gender-related social justice issue. Brianna looks forward to being able to learn more about the country that she has been researching for the past two years.
By Hailey Karnowski
As my time here in Brazil comes to an end, I thought I would share two of the most memorable experiences that I had that deepened my understanding of Brazilian culture and led me to further question the persistent topics regarding gender.
Earlier this week, our group had the pleasure of hearing from Major Denice Santiago who is a police officer in Salvador and has helped create a branch of the police force focused strictly on violence against women. Major Denice informed us about the horrors that women face in households, and how justice was rarely sought due to the fear of not being believed or not having any resources in the first place. I had figured that there was still inequality between men and women—since some of our prior research had suggested that—but was clueless to the fact that violence against women ceases to exist across many aspects of the culture.
Before traveling, one of the subtopics we studied was gender’s role in Brazil. One article explained how Brazil still sees a lack of representation of women in power and it was not until 1994 that a woman was elected at the state level (dos Santos and Thomé, 2021). Knowing this, I thought it was amazing that Major Denice started in the police force at the age of 18 and holds a high ranking, but she mentioned to us that there is only so high of a position that women officers can get. Another article expressed how massive the women’s movement in Brazil was to gain the ability to vote only to be faced by backlash, and Major Denice’s talk amplified the idea that this movement has yet to see full equality (Maruci, 2018).
Back to Major Denice’s important topic discussed in her lecture—the violence against women in Brazil has plagued numerous households and has not received the social and governmental attention that it needs. Thankfully, Major Denice helped start a program to solely assist in cases and incidents regarding violence against women, but an earlier experience that I had led me to believe that this violence might not just be in the household.
Last week, those who wanted to were able to see a live Brazilian soccer match at the stadium in Salvador. For those unfamiliar with Brazilian soccer, soccer or “futebol” is arguably one of the most significant parts of Brazilian culture and helps unite the states and country. As an article we explored suggested, soccer is so popular because anyone can play it no matter the race or socioeconomic background and the sport has become a part of many Brazilians’ identity (Eakin, 2017). It truly brings all sorts of different people together, and as a person who loves sports, it was incredible to see this in person.
The game started out like any other major league sport with fans cheering, people buying cups of beer, and guys selling snacks throughout the crowd. However, as the game became tied and the fans became frustrated, I heard numerous sexist slurs being yelled at the players, referees, and even to other fans. I was shocked at some of the things that were being said—of course I know how Americans can get with hockey and football—but it was maddening hearing that the slurs regarded women. It was not until after the game during our lecture with Major Denice that I found out that soccer games are a huge driving force with domestic violence and that the special taskforce actually stays at the stadium to ensure that no women are being harassed or hurt. It was extremely eye opening that a sport so important to a nation holds some toxic behaviors that further the inequalities that women face in society. This experience made me look at Brazil on a more intersectional level, and I realized that although things like soccer are important for unity, there still may be some people that are disadvantaged from it.
Although our course explored inequalities persistent in Brazilian culture, I think it is important to note the changes that are currently being made for a more equal and equitable society for women and other marginalized groups. Since the beginning, powerful women activists have made monumental impacts on the culture that is seen today. Take Bertha Lutz and Dilma Rousseff for example. The two women fought against all odds to further women’s rights and gain political power (Noriega, 2020). Since then, women like Major Denice Santiago have been continuing this journey to fight for women’s rights, and their actions have not gone unnoticed. I can only hope that Brazil and the United States continue these efforts toward equality.
Eakin, Marshall. “The Beautiful Game: Performing the Freyrean Vision” (2017). In Becoming
Brazilians: Race and National Identity in Twentieth-Century Brazil (New Approaches to the Americas, pp. 165-199). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/9781316800058.007
dos Santos, Pedro A. G. and Thomé, Débora, "Women and Political Power in Brazil"
(2021). Political Science Faculty Publications. 70.
Maruci, Hannah. “Women’s struggle to vote in Brazil: same fight, different strategies” (2018).
Oxford Human Rights Hub. https://ohrh.law.ox.ac.uk/womens-struggle-to-vote-in-brazil-same-fight-different-strategies/
Noriega, Christina. “Herstory: 12 Brazilian Women Who Changed the Course of History”
(2020). ReMezcla. https://remezcla.com/lists/culture/herstory-brazilian-women-changed-course-history/
Hailey Karnowski is a rising senior at the College of Saint Benedict, pursuing a major in sociology and minor in political science. She is originally from Farmington, Minnesota. Hailey is the new president of the CSB rugby team and works for IT Services. She hopes to work in social work or criminology after graduating and is looking forward to gaining new experiences and perspectives while studying abroad.