by Patricia DuCharme, DNP, APRN, ANP-BC, FAUSA
As a nurse practitioner committed to global health and advancing equity in women’s health and well-being, I came to CSW70 hoping to learn from international voices about the challenges and progress in advancing women’s rights—and I left with a deeper appreciation of their lived experiences and resilience.
Among the many powerful sessions, one continues to stay with me: Voices of Iranian Women: Pathways to Justice and Rights. I expected to hear about policy, systems and statistics. Instead, I found myself sitting with stories—deeply personal, painful and profoundly human. Stories that made it impossible to look away.
The women who spoke were highly educated professionals now living in the United States and Canada, but their voices carried the weight of lives shaped by repression in Iran. They spoke not only as advocates, but as survivors of political violence. As they shared, their experiences came into sharp and immediate focus.
One woman’s story, in particular, has stayed with me. She described being shot in the eye in 2022 for not wearing her hijab during a protest. As she spoke, she explained that women are often targeted in the eyes so they cannot “see freedom.” Sitting there, I felt a quiet mix of sadness and disbelief as I listened. And yet, what struck me most was her strength. She was not defined by what had been done to her, but by her unwavering commitment to speak out.
At one point, I found myself no longer taking notes. I was simply present—listening, absorbing, and trying to make sense of the enormity of what these women had endured. The spoken phrase “Bodies become battlefields” echoed in my mind. It was no longer a concept; it was a reality sitting in front of me.
The conversation also turned to the broader conditions many women face—child marriage, lack of access to education, systemic violence and the quiet despair that can follow. Hearing that some women reach a point where life feels intolerable, with many who commit suicide, was deeply unsettling. It forced me to reflect not only on the conditions themselves, but on the global response to them.
The panelists spoke candidly about what they see as barriers to action: othering, psychological numbing, and a pervasive bystander mindset. I recognized pieces of this in myself and in the global health systems I am part of—the ways we can unintentionally distance ourselves from suffering that feels far away, or become desensitized over time. It was a difficult but necessary realization.
And yet, even in the heaviness of these truths, there was also hope. I learned about Iran House, an organization dedicated to restoring dignity and a sense of belonging for survivors of trauma and political violence. It reminded me that alongside advocacy, there is healing work happening—quiet, steady, and essential.
By the end of the session, I felt deeply moved, yet also encouraged. I couldn’t stop thinking about one image: a young woman seated at the center of the panel, visibly marked by her injury, yet speaking with clarity and purpose. Her presence alone was a form of resistance.
Against the backdrop of the ongoing conflict in Iran, this presentation was a stark reminder of the realities faced by Iranian women. It broadened my understanding and reinforced that justice for women and their well-being extends beyond programs and policy to the lived experiences of individuals and the courage to bear witness—and, importantly, to how we respond to what we have seen and heard.