Across Women's Lives

American financier Jeffrey Epstein pleaded not guilty on Monday to charges of sex trafficking as prosecutors accused him of luring dozens of girls as young as 14 to his luxury homes in New York and Florida and paying them for sex acts.An indictment unsealed in federal court in Manhattan accused Epstein, 66, of arranging for girls to perform nude "massages" and other sex acts and paying some girls to recruit others, from at least 2002 to 2005."The alleged behavior shocks the conscience and while the charged conduct is from a number of years ago, it is still profoundly important to the many alleged victims, now young women. ... They deserve their day in court.United States Attorney Geoffrey Berman"The alleged behavior shocks the conscience and while the charged conduct is from a number of years ago, it is still profoundly important to the many alleged victims, now young women," United States Attorney Geoffrey Berman said at a press conference. "They deserve their day in court."Epstein was known for socializing

It’s a rainy night in mid-May, and around 50 young adults are squeezed into a small classroom in the Casa Fusa health clinic in Buenos Aires, Argentina. In breakout groups, they polish their presentations — about safe sex.Some have Power Point presentations lined up while others offer up demonstrations, games and skits. They show how to use a condom, for both men and women, and talk about things like consent and preventing HPV and HIV.That may not sound too unusual, but in Argentina, sexual education is a controversial topic. Many schools here don't even broach the subject even though comprehensive sex education has been mandated by law since 2006. The curriculum, known as ESI (Educación Sexual Integral or Comprehensive Sex Ed), is designed to teach children across the country about contraception, consent and how to be more inclusive of LGBTQ rights and sexuality. But critics say many schools and provinces don’t offer it in a consistent way.Related: Argentina is divided over abortion — even the feministsToday

Luciana Angueira, a social worker in Villa Fiorito, a poor neighborhood outside of central Buenos Aires, Argentina, says many of the women she sees are looking to end their pregnancies, but don't want their husbands to know. “That would mean they are being unfaithful — the men are very possessive,” she said. “We have some patients who don’t believe in abortion, but they still come here looking for pills because they don’t want more children.”In Villa Fiorito, families struggle to meet basic needs — many don’t have proper drinking water — and they've run out of room in their houses, says Angueira, who has worked in the clinic here for more than a decade. The Center of Primary Social Health is located in the heart of Villa Fiorito. Many people survive as cartoneros, sorting through trash and selling whatever they’re able to recycle.On a cold, windy, May morning, Angueira explains how there is a big effort to clean up the neighborhood. She points to a park and small field where kids play soccer — the famous play

Joanna, 27, a mom and a university student in Buenos Aires, Argentina, couldn’t imagine having to raise a third child. She’s spread thin as it is.So, when she found out she was pregnant again this past spring, she thought long and hard about what to do. It wasn’t easy, but she decided to get an abortion.That’s what brings her to Casa Fusa, a small clinic tucked away on a busy street near downtown on a sunny May afternoon.“I’m nervous, but I’m quite sure about what I’m doing. So, that helps me to stay calm,” Joanna said from the brightly lit waiting room.We’re not using Joanna’s full name for security reasons. Argentina has strict laws against abortion, which is banned with only a few exceptions. It has led many women to seek out clandestine abortions. But a movement to decriminalize abortion has gained traction in the predominantly Catholic country in recent years. Related: Legal abortions remain elusive in Argentina, especially for the most vulnerableAbortion has recently resurfaced as a hot button issue aro

It’s never fun to hear the sound of your own voice. But that’s part of the job for Adele Willie, Jennesa Hinge Moli and Lavenia Yalovi.Or at least it is now. A year ago, they were recruited to be among the first generation of female sports commentators from the Pacific Islands. Willie and Hinge Moli are from the archipelago nation of Vanuatu. Yalovi is from Fiji. “What I like is the tone of my voice,” Hinge Moli responds shyly during a listening exercise. Hinge Moli and her colleagues are in a cramped hotel room on the outskirts of Montpellier, preparing for their final game of the Women’s World Cup (WWC). Their mentor, Aaron Kearney, has asked them to listen back to their first commentary, a match between New Zealand and the Netherlands. From left: Willie, Yalovi and Hinge Moli prepare for their final Women’s World Cup commentary from their hotel room in Montpellier, France. Credit: Rebecca Rosman/The World “Now remember the word we were using was ‘crispness

Russian feminists paraded a 13-foot-tall model vagina down the streets of St. Petersburg on May 1, 2018, without getting arrested. It was a big win.“[Police] arrested only those who they have orders to arrest,” says Leda Garina, director of the Eve's Ribs, a social, artistic, documentary and communication project devoted to the subject of gender discrimination. “But there were no vagina orders, so they didn’t know how to react.”The giant vagina didn't spark police action in 2018, but participants were not so lucky in 2019. Six Eve's Ribs activists were detained.In a country where the concept of feminism remains at best socially neutral and at worst a “mortal sin,” activists fighting for gender equality under the banner of feminism have to take success where they can get it. And it's often fleeting. Leda Garina, director of the Eve's Ribs project in St. Petersburg  Credit: Daniel Ofman/The World “This year, one of the girls wore a vagina costume, and they made

When the Chilean women’s national team, La Roja, takes the field in France, next Tuesday, June 11, it will be a dream most of the players never thought possible.Not because of talent but because of a pure lack of resources and support. “It was a dream to be on the national team. But the way you dreamed it wasn’t the way it was."Iona Rothfeld, soccer player and founder of the National Association of Women Soccer Players — ANJUFF“It was a dream to be on the national team. But the way you dreamed it wasn’t the way it was,” said Iona Rothfeld, who played on the national team for seven years. When Iona Rothfeld first played on Universidad Católica, she had to pay to be on the team. Credit: José Angel/Courtesy of Iona Rothfeld For decades, the national federation consistently underfunded women’s soccer: Women played on fields only when the men weren’t using them and didn’t have their own locker rooms. For away games, the women flew coach; meanwhile, the men flew bu

Lilit Martirosyan misses the chance to go and sit somewhere outside to drink coffee. She hasn’t been able to do that for the past seven weeks. It’s too dangerous for her to even look out her own window.People can recognize her face now.She became the first transgender woman to speak to Armenia’s parliament last month. A video of her speech was shared around the world and applauded by LGBTQ activists and supporters. But she’s been getting death threats since then, and she’s afraid to leave the house.Armenia ranks as one of the worst countries to live in Europe for LGBTQ people, according to a new assessment this month by the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association (ILGA-Europe). The post-Soviet republic came in near the bottom of the 49 countries listed, barely topping Azerbaijan and Turkey.At a parliamentary hearing held by the National Assembly in Yerevan on April 5, Martirosyan, the president of the Right Side nongovernmental organization, called for legal protection for transge

Lucia Lucas sweeps across a noisy diner in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at 9 a.m. on a Saturday wearing a calf-length, black brocade frock coat and a bright, lipsticked smile.Most opera singers in her position would be resting up the morning after a big debut. But not Lucas.“Last night was super weird,” she said, tucking into a plate of chicken fried steak and eggs. “There were so many things going on all at once.” When Lucia Lucas stepped into the role of Don Giovanni, she became the first transgender person to sing a lead part in a standard operatic work in the US. Credit: Emily Steward The 38-year-old, Germany-based baritone just made her debut as Don Giovanni with the Tulsa Opera, becoming the first transgender person to sing a lead role in a standard operatic work in the US.Related: A US transgender activist is stuck in Sweden. The UN wants to investigate.The New York Times sent a reporter. The Metropolitan Opera sent a casting representative. Lucas had a documentar

This story was produced in collaboration with Al Jazeera’s Fault Lines and was supported by a grant from the Solutions Journalism Network.Tina Russell drives along one of the main roads in Kent, Washington, about a half hour south of Seattle. She’s taking me to the place where her niece, Alyssa McLemore, used to live. We speed down a street neatly lined with suburban-style homes when we make a right turn.She points to a peach house with Christmas lights hanging in the window.It's not far from where Alyssa McLemore was last seen before she went missing — a busy intersection with an entrance to state Route 167 and Interstate Highway 5 — which connects California, Oregon and Washington. It’s here that a witness saw Alyssa McLemore talking to a man in a green truck with out-of-state plates.Related: Vancouver Whitecaps accused of mishandling abuse allegations against former coachIt’s been 10 years since 21-year-old Alyssa McLemore disappeared, but Russell hasn’t given up trying to find her. She keeps flyers with A