Are you hearing my voice? | Gabriela Manssur | TEDxSãoPaulo

Gabi Manssur talks about the need to listen to women and respect them. She is a reference in Brazil for her work in the prevention of violence against women.

Gabriela Manssur is a prosecuting attorney in the Public Prosecutor's Office of the state of São Paulo. She is coordinator of “Núcleo de Combate à Violência contra a Mulher” (Center for the Prevention of Violence against Women).

She created the Instagram account "Justiça de Saia" (Justice in Skirts) and promotes street races to give visibility to the cause of preventing violence against women.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

"I did hit! I really did!
With this hand here!"

"She wasn't taught to behave
at home - I'll teach her."

"He only hit me because
I went for a job interview,

and I left the kids with the neighbor."

"He complains about my clothes.

If I use a leopard print,
he calls me a slut.

If I use red lipstick,
he says I'm attention-seeking."

"He complains about my food
and says it's rubbish.

It's the same thing every day."

"If you don't stay with me,
you won't have anyone else!

I'll make your life hell!

I'll publish our intimate photos
on social media!

I'm going to kill you!"

"At first, it seemed like love.
He'd say he loved me 100 times a day.

Then he started to control my life,

took me away from my friends, my family,

controlled the places I went to,
my habits, and the clothes I wore.

I decided to end the relationship.

He didn't accept it.

He began to threaten me.
He'd harass me at my school entrance!

He'd hang around at the college entrance,
and he'd wait around at my workplace.

The last time we were together,
he tried to strangle me.

I ran away, but now I'm afraid.
I don't leave home anymore."

Cases like these are commonplace
in my day-to-day life as a prosecutor,

working to prevent violence against women.

And you must be wondering,

"Why did she decide
to become a prosecuting attorney?

Why does she defend woman's rights?
Why does she use this robe?"

Well, I use this robe in the courtroom

in cases of violent deaths against women.

I've used it for 12 years,
and I've never washed it.

One day, my son saw me
in this robe and asked,

"Mom, are you a child?"

I said, "No."

"Then why are you in this costume?
You look like Batman!"

And that day I explained to him,

"Mommy goes to the courtroom
to defend women's rights."

I always had a very intimate relationship
with my grandmother, Marilia,

a woman ahead of her time,
a vanguard woman.

She separated very early.

With four children,
she had to strive hard.

She overcame her strife,
turning her pain into strength.

I always followed her closely
because she did everything differently,

and that inspired me
and generated a certain curiosity.

I questioned everything,

"Grandma, why did you do this?"
"Why did you do that?"

"What do you think I should be
when I grow up?"

She said, "Since you question everything,
you're so picky, and want to know it all,

you should be a prosecuting attorney."

I grew up, graduated,
studied for four years,

and went on to be a prosecutor.

I was second in the bar exam,
and I called her that day,

"Grandma, I passed!
I passed in second place!"

She asked, "Aren't you going to ask
why you didn't get first place?"

I said, "No, this time
I'll just accept it quietly."

The first place I started
working as a prosecutor

was in Embu-Guaçu, a very poor town

with one of the highest rates
of violence against women.

The courthouse was in a garage,
beneath a building,

and it was there that I saw

one of the worst crimes
of violence against women.

One day, Celeste arrived in my office.

Her arms were bruised,

and she came to me and said,
"Ma'am, I need help."

I said, "What's up, Celeste?"

"My son's addicted to cocaine.
He hits me every day.

If I don't give him money,
he hits me, he threatens me,

he curses me, he imprisons me at home.

He threatened to kill me!
I'm really afraid for my life."

On that day, in one hand,
I held the life of a woman,

and in the other hand,

I was holding one of the most important
human relationships there is:

mother and child.

But we had to act.

We got a protective measure
to get Marcelo out of the house.

But he violated it, was arrested,
and spent two months in jail.

During those two months
he was imprisoned,

Celeste was reborn.

When she came to my office,
I could tell she'd gained some weight.

She started to dye her hair blonde.

She would bring me cornmeal cake.

When Marcelo was released,
she came to visit me and said,

"I'm so happy, ma'am. He's better.

Now he can move back in with me."

And at that moment,
I felt a sense of accomplishment.

I was then promoted
to another attorney's office,

in Taboão da Serra, where I am today.

Ten days later, my intern called me,

"I have some news for you, ma'am.

Celeste passed away.

Marcelo stabbed her 20 times
and killed his own mother."

From that day on, my life changed,

and I found a strong purpose
to fight for women's lives.

We don't want to lose more women's lives.

I realized I had to change
my attitude as a prosecutor

by not just checking papers in my office
and fighting for convictions,

certainly necessary tasks,

but I couldn't just do what was required,

I had to go further.

I started approaching the community,

going into schools and colleges.

I approached the social movements,
the activists, and I learned a lot.

I learned that in crimes
of violence against women,

punishment alone isn't enough.

You need to look at the victim
and be with this woman,

but you also need to look at the man

who is behind the aggression.

I noticed two major reasons

that exacerbate this violence in Brazil.

On the one hand, we have
a lot of women who don't report;

on the other hand, we have many cases
of men who repeat their behavior.

What empowers me? My work.

So I decided to find jobs for these women

because 27.5% of women
don't have the economic conditions

to break up a relationship
and get out of the cycle of violence.

I partnered with public
and private organizations

to empower these women and insert them
directly into the work market.

In the first company,

we placed ten women,
violence victims, directly into factories.

OK, it was my husband's company,
but it was already a start.

The women are empowered.
What about the men?

Behind every beaten woman is her attacker,

and that's who I want to talk to.

By the way, women come
into the attorney's office and say,

"Talk to him, ma'am! Give him a fright!
He's a good father, a good husband."

I think, "Hey, I'm not a ghost
to go around scaring people.

Yes, I'll talk to him,
but in an institutionalized way."

We developed a project where we talk
with the accused men,

drawing them closer
to the attorney's office,

to accompany them
during their time of prosecution

so that when they leave,
they don't commit more crimes.

Today, where I work,
we have a 65% recurrence rate.

Sixty-five percent of men go back
and again beat their wife,

their girlfriend, their ex-partner,
or their future partner.

And we bring these men in
to discussion classes,

debates, and conversations,
to talk about various subjects.

Sexuality:

"When a woman says no, it's no,
and insistent pressure is rape."

We talk about masculinity:

"Men also cry. Men are sensitive.

You can express your feelings."

About alcohol and drugs:

"Ninety percent of men are
under the influence of alcohol and drugs."

We also talk about masculinity,

about machismo,

and injustices committed against women.

If you have a law to protect women,

it's because relationships are unequal,

and the law's here to balance this out.

We're not against men;
we're in favor of women's rights.

And men will benefit most from it.

In the first program of the project,
we had 75% adherence and no recurrence.

In the second program,

we had 90% adherence
and only one recurrence.

The second program was different:

we received investments
from private and public companies,

we had international speakers
coming to talk to these men,

and we left a legacy.

The project became a law.

Today, this project is mandatory
in Taboão da Serra -

talking to these men.

And how did we give
visibility to all of this?

Through social media.

I started posting positive actions
of violence prevention against women -

projects, court decisions,

actions of public organizations,

and violence prevention projects -

and it was successful; it worked.

I started to receive several reports

of people wanting to do
voluntary work for the projects,

and we gained a lot of visibility.

This is so true that during ENEM,
the national high school exam

that's also used for college admission,

nearly 8 million students wrote
on the theme of violence against women.

We had five top magazine covers
showing this topic.

We had young girls
going out on the streets,

declaring themselves feminists,

with no shame, fighting for our rights -

not only fighting for rights, but battling
for the enforcement of rights

which had already been won.

Because we don't want to go back.

We don't want to burn bras any longer;
they've already been burned.

We want more beautiful bras
or to not even wear bras.

What we want is our freedom of choice.

The second way I thought
would give visibility to the project

was the street race,

which is what gives me
the physical strength

to help me face this daily violence
which I indirectly end up suffering from.

Through sport, we bring
together a social cause

with something that transforms
people's reality and has visibility.

We did our first training.

I joined up with people
who like both running and social causes.

There were only 80 women
from the community at our first event.

We only had water and bananas,
also provided by my husband's company.

But this evolved,

and now in March 2015,
we had 3,000 people on the streets,

running side by side
for the end of violence against women.

We had 300,000 Brazilian reals
from investments,

and we even managed
to invest in NGO projects,

dedicated to projects of preventing
and combating violence against women.

And next year there'll be more:
five races in five capitals.

I hope you'll all be there.

(Applause)

You know you're on the right track

when older people admire and applaud you;

when people from your generation
laugh, find it funny,

but they stand by you and support you;

when younger people
who are always cool, everything's cool,

but when things go bad,
when there's a problem,

they call you to fix it,
have you as a reference,

and even take a selfie with you.

One day, a woman came
into my office and said,

"My court case is over, ma'am,

he's already been convicted,
but I need your help."

And I asked, "What do you want?"

"Ma'am, please help me get my life back!"

At that moment, I realized
she just needed a daycare,

psychological care, a job,

and to receive reconstructive surgery

to fix the scar from the stabbing
she had suffered.

This is no different from other women
who've already had their cases resolved,

but they need our help
to rescue their self-esteem.

"We were suspicious when we got here,

but it was a warning, an awakening."

This phrase was spoken by men
who attended the project.

And these men, affectionately or not,

nicknamed me the "Iron Lady."

But the person who's speaking to you here

isn't an iron lady.

She's a woman.

She's a woman, subject
to any type of violence:

physical, psychological,
sexual, patrimonial.

Look beside you, please.

Look beside you.

How many women do we have here?

How many of us suffer
from some type of violence?

One out of every three women in Brazil
suffers from some type of violence.

Every 12 seconds, a woman
suffers some type of violence in Brazil.

[Brazil ranks fifth in the world
in violence against women]

What we are doing to decrease this index?

I'm the granddaughter of Marília,
the daughter of Regina,

sister of Domitila, and mother of Camila,

but I also feel like the
granddaughter of many Celestes,

daughter of many Marias da Penha,

sister of many Majuses,
of many Taís Araujos,

and mother of many Valentinas.

There was a girl who had a dream,

which was to live
free from any kind of violence.

This is what she did.

She transformed her life
and the lives of many women.

But she doesn't only want
to fulfill her obligation,

she wants to go further.

Her work is much more
than giving voice to these women -

her job is to make these voices heard.

Are you listening to my voice?

Are you listening to my voice?

Audience: Yes.

Gabriela Manssur: Thank you.

(Applause)

(Cheers)