What significant event happened in 1882?

Nothing, This is a trick question

What is gender equality?

Gender Equality is for all genders or non binary to access to power, opinion, opportunity, safety and freedom.

Gender Equality is where women get more rights than men.

Gender Equality is a day where men, women and non-binary's get to party.

Women Right and Gender Equality

Gender Equality and Womens Rights Quiz

Gender discrimination refers to the unjust treatment of individuals based on their gender. It can also be refers to as when people are denied their rights and access to resources based on their sex. It often results from stereotypes, biases, and unequal power dynamics in society. It manifests in various forms and contexts, such as education, employment, politics, and everyday interactions. Examples of gender discrimination include: • Pay disparities between men and women in the workplace. • Limited educational opportunities for girls compared to boys in certain communities. • Stereotypical expectations regarding gender roles and behaviors, such as girls being discouraged from pursuing careers in STEM fields. • Harassment and violence targeted at individuals who do not conform to traditional gender norms. Gender discrimination not only violates individuals' rights and dignity but also perpetuates inequality and hinders social progress. It can lead to negative consequences for individuals' well-being, self-esteem, and opportunities for personal and professional growth. Additionally, gender discrimination reinforces harmful stereotypes and reinforces rigid gender norms, limiting everyone's freedom to express themselves authentically THE FOLLOWINGS ARE WAYS OF ADDRESSING GENDER DISCRIMINATION: Addressing gender discrimination requires a) Collective efforts from individuals, communities, and institutions. b) It involves challenging stereotypes, c) Advocating for policy changes. d) Promoting inclusive practices, and fostering respect and empathy towards people of all genders. e) By raising awareness. f) Promoting education, and g) Taking action to combat gender discrimination. h) Creating a more equitable and just society where everyone has the opportunity to thrive.

Considerations in the Study of Criminal Justice Inequilty in Canada A key feature of Can Society is inequity, particularly income inequity Top 1% earns 39.1% of income One million children live in low-income households Gender inequality in the workplace costs Canada $150 billion/year Women working full-time earn 74.2 cents for every dollar that full-time male workers make Racism, Prejudice and Discrimination Prejudice: unsubtitled, negative prejudgment of individuals/groups based on ethnicity, religion or race Discrimination: action/decision treats a person/group negatively Racism: prejudice, discrimination or antagonism based on belief that one’s race is superior Racial Profiling: action that relies on stereotypes about race, colour, ethnicity, ancestry, religion, place of origin rather than on reasonable suspicion Racial Profiling Experiences of Women Women- UNiqu experiences within CJS Higher education than ever before Self-report violent victimization is higher among women (85% per 100,000 women versus 67% per 100,000 for men) Experiences of Indigenous Persons Disproportionately represented as both victims and offenders at all stages of the criminal justice system Violent victimization is more than double that of non-indigenous persons (160 vs. 74/1,000) 27% homicide victims in 2009 were indigenous The Legacy of Colonization Many indigenous people live on the margins of Canadian society Pervasive poverty High rates of unemployment Low levels of formal education High death rates (accidents/violence) Often much worse off than non-indigenous persons Residential school system operated by federal government -1880s-1990 150,000 Indigenous children sent to residential schools “60s schoop” Intergenerational impact - residential schools - Truth and Reconciliation Commission Additional Considerations Escalating Costs of the CJS CJS expenditures have increased despite the overall decline in crime rates across the country Rise of the Surveillance Society Life in early 21st century- the pervasiveness of technology, surveillance technology Most citizens do not realize that every day their activities are recorded by video camera while shopping, when standing at a bus stop, even while driving Needs of Crime Victims Physically, Psychologically, emotionally, financially and social Victims can feel worse because of re-victimization Re-victimization: the negative impact on victims of crimes casued by the decisions and actions of criminal justice personnel Canadian Victims Bills of Rights, 2015. Summary Inequality, racism, prejudice and discriantion were intriduced as features of Canadian Society These are often manifested in racial profliing and the racialization of gropus and individuals Addtional consideration in the study of teh criminal juscitce system are The escalating costs of criminal jusicte The question as to whether the Canadian public is getting the “value of money,” The changing boundaries of criminal justice agencies as reflected in the development of multi agency partnerships Additional Consideration in the study of the criminal Justice system are The challenges posed by teh rise of teh surveillance society due to the pervasiveness of technology The challenges faced by crime victims Concerns for the health and wellness of offenders criminal justice professionals and The lack of diversity among crimina

The right to vote and the role of women in the 1920s and 1930s

The Princess and the Pea Once upon a time, there was a prince who wanted to marry a princess. She had to be a real princess, though. The prince looked all over the world, but he couldn't find who he wanted. Many young women said they were princesses, but were they really? It was hard to know for sure! There was always something about them that did not seem quite right. So the prince came home again and was sad. He still wanted to find a real princess to marry. One evening, there was a terrible storm with thunder and lightning. The rain came down hard as the wind howled. Suddenly, someone knocked at the castle door. A young woman stood outside. She said she was a princess who had been caught in the storm. But what a sight the rain and wind had made her look! The water ran down from her hair and clothes. It ran into the toes of her shoes until they overflowed. Still, she said that she was a real princess. We'll soon find out! thought the old queen. She went into the bedroom and stripped all the bedding off the bed. She took a pea and laid it on the bare bedframe. Then she took twenty mattresses and placed them on top of the pea. Finally, she put twenty blankets stuffed with goose feathers on top. On this bed, the princess had to lie all night. In the morning, the queen asked her how she had slept. "Oh, very badly! I barely closed my eyes all night," said the princess. "Goodness knows what it was, but I was lying on something hard," she added. "I am black and blue all over my body-it was horrible!" she cried. Now they knew that she was a real princess. She had felt the pea right through twenty mattresses and twenty goose-feather blankets. Nobody but a real princess could be that sensitive. So the prince married her, for now he knew that she was a real princess. The pea was given to a museum. You can still see it there, if you like.

Broken windows are covered. Floorboards are patched and doors screwed back on. The road that was ruined by German tanks is shovelled and raked smooth. Boot-shaped bruises turn yellow then fade and disappear. Flowers grow and spread across the ugly German footprints stomped into garden beds. The village looks pretty once more. School stops for the summer and everyone is put to work on the kolkhoz, the village farm. Women and big boys begin harvesting the barley crops in the outer fields. The biggest girls milk the cows, morning and night, and keep the barns clean. Old Nikolay mends ploughs, horse harnesses, pitchforks and scythes in his workshop. Anna Pushinka teaches Yelena and her friends how to get the honey from the beehives that are scattered through the orchards. I am in charge of collecting eggs. My friends Olga and Nina help. Olga and Nina are five, a year younger than me. They are twins and look exactly alike, except Nina’s nose is a little bit crooked from when she fell out of bed and squashed it sideways on the floor. The hens, ducks and geese wander free in the summer, so collecting eggs is like a treasure hunt and takes hours. Catching the hens for their daily hugs takes even longer, but I think it’s important because hugs make everyone happy and happy hens lay bigger eggs. Olga says I’m the best hen-hugger in all of Russia. Nina says I’ll be the best cow-hugger, too, when my arms grow longer. But good hugs have nothing to do with the size of your arms. It’s all to do with the size of your heart. When we are done with the hens, Olga, Nina and I can spend the rest of the day doing whatever we like. We climb the apricot trees, chase squirrels, lie in the meadow marvelling at how hot Ushanka’s black fur becomes in the sunshine, make daisy chains and race little boats of bark in the stream. I teach Olga and Nina the alphabet and we use charcoal to write our letters and our names all over the village – on doors and walls and the freshly cut ends of firewood. In between, I practise my knots. In case the German princemonsters return. I slip into Old Nikolay’s workshop and tie knots in the harnesses hanging on the walls. I wander into gardens where the washing is hung out to dry and tie knots in the laces on pants and smocks. I creep up behind Anna Pushinka and tie knots in her apron strings. I find baling twine in the hay shed and tie my own ankles together. I do such a good job of these last knots that I can’t get them undone. I have to jump all the way to Olga and Nina’s house and ask them to cut me free with their mama’s knife. At the end of each day, Ushanka and I run out into the distant barley fields to meet Mama. This is my favourite part of the day, because Mama always shouts, ‘Little Rabbit!’ and smothers my head with kisses. And as we walk home, we sing. Everyone – women, big boys and me. I love to sing. Almost as much as I love to be kissed by Mama. Sometimes one of the boys, Mikhail, has his balalaika with him. He takes the instrument out from beneath the sheaves of barley piled high on the wagon and plays music. We sing about forests and orchards and people who find their true love. As we walk home, arm in arm, my heart fills with happiness and my belly swells with pride that I am allowed to sing along with the big boys. And I can almost forget about the German prince-monsters and their lies about Russia and their big ugly boots. Almost. But today, when Mikhail reaches for his balalaika, I see other things hiding beneath the barley sheaves. Three of the mamas rush forward and cover them up, but it’s too late. I know they are there. I’ve already seen them. Rifles. Lots of rifles. Mikhail hugs his balalaika to his chest and blushes. ‘So play!’ cries Mama, her voice oddly loud and high. ‘Let’s play Sasha’s favourite song, “The Little Birch Tree”.’ So Mikhail plays and everyone sings about the lovely birch tree with its curly leaves and the branches that will be turned into silver flutes. They sing too quickly, too loudly, and as they sing and walk, they cast nervous sideways glances at me. ‘It’s alright,’ I say, when the song comes to an end. ‘I didn’t see the rifles.’ Mama nods and smiles, and I know it was the right thing to say. But I did see the rifles. And I think about Yelena wanting to get lots of guns and dynamite for the Partisans so they can shoot the Germans and blow them into thousands of tiny pieces, and Mama looking as though she agreed, and I know this is what the mamas and the big boys are doing. As well as harvesting, they are helping the Partisans. Three days later, I wake before dawn and I am all alone. Yelena is always here beside me when I wake. But not this morning. I climb down from our bed above the stove. Mama is filling a cloth sack with bread. She ties it closed with a piece of string and hands it to Yelena. ‘Stay out of sight,’ says Mama. ‘And don’t return until after dark.’ ‘Where’s she going?’ I ask. ‘Nowhere,’ snaps Mama. ‘Then why does she need all that bread?’ I ask. ‘There’s nothing left for us.’ Mama baked four loaves last night and she has stuffed them all into the sack. Yelena opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Mama shoves her out the door and sends her on the way to nowhere. Mama turns and stares at me, her blue, blue cornflower eyes wide with worry. ‘I know,’ I say, flopping down on the bench. ‘I didn’t see any bread.’ Mama sits beside me and takes my hand. ‘And . . .?’ she prods, obviously waiting for more. I puzzle for a while, then say, ‘And I don’t have a sister called Yelena.’ Mama laughs, softly and with a little bit of sadness around the edges. ‘Sweet Little Rabbit! You do have a sister called Yelena.’ ‘I do?’ I ask, now confused. ‘I haven’t seen the rifles or the bread, but I have seen Yelena?’ ‘Yes.’ Mama smiles and the magic makes me smile, too. And I am glad that Yelena is real because I love her very much. ‘Yelena is real,’ Mama explains, ‘but she does not carry sacks of bread into the forest for the Partisans.’ ‘Of course not!’ I shout, slapping my forehead. ‘Because there is no bread!’ Mama laughs loudly now, with not a hint of sadness. She hugs me, pressing me against her warm, loving heart, covering my head with kisses. ‘Clever Little Rabbit,’ she murmurs, and then, in barely a whisper, ‘Your papa would be so proud.’ When I wake the next morning, Yelena is sleeping beside me, her mouth open, her braided hair unravelling. Mama is serving kasha to a strange woman seated at our table. I crawl down from above the stove and slide along the bench beside her. I stare at her pants, her tunic, the rope she is using as a belt and her big boots. She’s dressed like a man! And there’s a rifle leaning against the wall near the door. ‘Hello,’ I say. ‘I’m Sasha.’ The woman doesn’t reply. She just shovels down her kasha. I line my four wooden bears along the table in front of her bowl and say, ‘These are my bears: Big Bear, Medium Bear, Little Bear and Even Littler Bear.’ ‘Hello, Sasha. Hello, bears.’ She smiles but she doesn’t tell me her name. ‘Why are you dressed like a man?’ I ask, tugging at the sleeve of her tunic. ‘Because men’s clothes make it easier to run and climb and crawl and shoot,’ she says. ‘You’re a Partisan!’ I gasp. ‘But she’s not real,’ says Mama, placing a bowl of kasha before me. ‘Is the kasha real?’ I ask. Mama laughs. ‘Yes, Little Rabbit.’ I’m glad the food is real, because I’m hungry. But I’m disappointed that the woman is not real. I was going to ask if I could use her rope-belt to tie her ankles together. For practice. But if she’s not real, then the rope and her ankles aren’t either. The woman finishes her kasha, hangs her rifle over her shoulder, kisses Mama on the cheek then slips out the door. I run to the window to watch her leave, but by the time I get there, she’s gone. Vanished. ‘Because she’s not real,’ I whisper. A week later, Mama and I are working in the garden. We sing as we weed between the flowers and pluck caterpillars from the vegetables. Anna Pushinka is picking strawberries in her garden and wanders over. ‘Taste these,’ she says, holding out the basket. Mama reaches in and takes out a fat strawberry and a tiny piece of folded paper. The strawberry goes into her mouth, the paper into her pocket. ‘What’s on the paper?’ I ask. ‘Paper?’ Anna Pushinka replies with a wave of her hand. ‘Goodness, Sasha! Who has money for paper? These are lean times. We must choose between paper for writing and noodles for our soup. And I always choose noodles.’ She chuckles and I know the paper is yet another thing that is not real. That night, Mama slips the paper to Yelena, but she drops it on the floor. I pick it up for her, and I see that there are tiny words and numbers written all over it. I wish I could read better. I’m desperate to know what it says. Or rather, what it doesn’t say, because it’s not real. Later, when Mama has tucked us into our bed above the stove and Ushanka has wrapped herself around the top of my head, I ask Yelena, ‘What’s on the paper?’ ‘What paper?’ says Yelena. ‘The paper that isn’t real,’ I reply. Yelena stares at me, nibbling her lip, then whispers, ‘A message for the Partisans. Stuff about where the Germans have their headquarters and when their trains are travelling and where they store their ammunition.’ ‘Why?’ ‘So the Partisans can blow them up.’ Yelena grabs my arm. ‘But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.’ ‘What’s a secret?’ I ask. ‘The message.’ ‘What message?’ I say, my eyes wide. Yelena laughs. ‘Good boy, Sasha.’ My belly swells with pride. I know how to play this game. ‘How are your knots coming along?’ asks Yelena. ‘Good! Yesterday, I crept into the dairy and tied knots in the apron strings of all the girls who were milking and only one of them noticed. Today, I tied Olga’s ankles together with Mama’s embroidery thread and just now, while you were taking a bath, I tied the sleeves of your blouse together in an enormous knot.’ Yelena rolls her eyes, then says, ‘I’ll see if I can find you some rope for practising.’ ‘Practising what?’ I ask. ‘Your knots,’ she says. ‘What knots?’ Yelena, my big sister who is twelve and always serious t

By the late 1800s, the Spanish were losing control of Cuba. Concerned about insurrection in the countryside, they moved rural Cubans to “reconcentration” camps where the Spanish claimed they would be better able to protect them. U.S. Consul-General Fitzhugh Lee forwarded the following account of the conditions of the camps to the U.S. Assistant Secretary of State on November 27, 1897. Lee said the author of the note was “a man of integrity and character.” “[W]e will relate to you what we saw with our own eyes: “Four hundred and sixty women and children thrown on the ground, heaped pellet-mell as animals, some in a dying condition, others sick and others dead. . . . “There is still alive the only living witness, a young girl of 18 years, whom we found seemingly lifeless on the ground; on her right-hand side was the body of a young mother, cold and rigid, but with her young child still alive clinging to her dead body; on her left-hand side was also the corpse of a dead woman holding her son in a dead embrace. . . . “The circumstances are the following: complete accumulation of bodies dead and alive, so that it was impossible to take one step without walking over them; the greatest want of cleanliness, want of light, air, and water; the food lacking in quality and quantity what was necessary to sustain life. . . . From all this we deduct that the number of deaths among the reconcentrados has amounted to 77 per cent.” Source: Unsigned note that was included in a telegram sent by Fitzhugh Lee, U.S. Consul-General in Cuba, to the U.S. Assistant Secretary of State November 27, 1897. consul-general: a government official living in a foreign country charged with overseeing the protection of U.S. citizens and promoting trade pell-mell: state of disorder accumulation: pile want: lack reconcentrados: the reconcentration camp prisoners; The following is an excerpt from Albert J. Beveridge’s speech, delivered September 16, 1898. Beveridge gave this speech while he was campaigning to become a senator for Indiana. The speech helped him win the election and made him one of the leading advocates of American expansion. “Fellow citizens, it is a noble land that God has given us; a land that can feed and clothe the world;. . . . It is a mighty people that he has planted on this soil . . . It is a glorious history our God has bestowed upon his chosen people; . . .a history of soldiers who carried the flag across the blazing deserts and through the ranks of hostile mountains, even to the gates of sunset. . . . “The Opposition tells us that we ought not to govern a people without their consent. I answer: The rule of liberty that all just government derives its authority from the consent of the governed, applies only to those who are capable of self-government. I answer, We govern the Indians without their consent, we govern our territories without their consent, we govern our children without their consent. “They ask us how we will govern these new possessions. I answer: If England can govern foreign lands, so can America. If Germany can govern foreign lands, so can America. . . . “What does all this mean for every one of us? It means opportunity for all the glorious young manhood of the republic, the most virile, ambitious, impatient, militant manhood the world has ever seen. It means that the resources and the commerce of these immensely rich dominions will be increased. . . . “In Cuba, alone, there are 15,000,000 acres of forest unacquainted with the axe. There are exhaustless mines of iron. . . . There are millions of acres yet unexplored. . . . It means new employment and better wages for every laboring man in the Union. . . .

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