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Human Rights as the Heart of Life: An Interview with Marissa Olivares Morales

October 1, 2024

Marissa Olivares Morales, 2024 recipient of UWCHR’s Benjamin Linder Endowed Fund, is a PhD student at the Jackson School of International Studies, specializing in Indigenous Human Rights and Indigenous Politics. She is also an Associate Professor at the Universidad Centroamericana in Nicaragua. Her research focuses on the Indigenous struggle to secure territorial rights, self-determination, and autonomy on the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua.

In spring of 2024, Marissa Olivares Morales, recipient of UWCHR’s Benjamin Linder Endowed Fund, joined UWCHR’s Andrea Marcos for an interview exploring her relationship to human rights work, from Nicaragua to Seattle, Washington.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Andrea: Thank you so much for taking time to talk with us about your work, Marissa. This year you were the recipient of the Center for Human Rights’ Ben Linder award. That fund supports researchers who have a commitment to human rights through engaged activism and humanitarian efforts aimed at addressing inequalities. How do you see your work related to that goal? How did you first get involved in human rights work?

Marissa: Well, I come from a small, poor country with many struggles: social justice, human rights, inequality–every kind of inequality. And since my high school years, I was pretty much committed, motivated. I also came from a Catholic, liberation theology background, and this is where I get inspiration from for social justice and addressing inequalities. I have been doing education and social activism for pretty much my whole life. I’ve been working with young people, women, Indigenous people, and my focus has been on growing and making connections. For me, this is very big, because human rights is like the heart of life. For me, it’s very closely related to dignity, to safety in a sense; and I don’t know why it’s not in the heart of the world, not in the heart of many institutions and places. This is my motivation, my energy. My hope comes from this commitment.

I don’t feel that I am a special person, I’m just a regular person like tons of other people in this world that are taking issues to heart. To me, human rights are an issue of heart, of feeling, but also of communication and thinking. Human rights issues are complex.

 

For me, this is very big, because human rights is like the heart of life. For me, it’s very closely related to dignity, to safety.


In my advocacy work I try to be part of, because I have to say that I come from a privileged position and place in my country. It’s easy to get away or try to not see what’s going on. It’s easy, but I try not to do that. I try to be part of, which can be difficult because you might not have lived through a hard experience that other people are having, but I try to connect across, to communicate, to understand. And I hope that other people also understand me. Because there can be prejudice on both sides. I don’t feel like I’m any kind of special person, I think that it’s common sense to want a better life–a life with dignity, with justice, with safety. For me, it’s not so complicated to see that, to feel that. I know that there are many, many people in this world that are connecting in different ways to try to make this world a better place to live.

 

I think that it’s common sense to want a better life–a life with dignity, with justice, with safety. 

 

A: You’ve worked as an educator for a long time, do you notice differences between teaching here in the US versus teaching in Nicaragua?

M: It’s a big difference! It’s a totally different academic culture. My university had 3,000 students. We know each other. We have the chance to have more close relationships, less formal sometimes. I was doing a lot of advocacy work with young people and Indigenous people, and I have the willingness to hear and to feel–and not that I’m an expert in young people in Nicaragua–but I started to know the feelings, the dreams, and the expectations of the young people I was working with. For me, being a teacher, it’s so important to have this kind of connection, not just with the brain of people, but with the heart of people. Who are you? What do you feel?

For me here, it’s not easy because I am not from here. Sometimes I don’t know how to handle or how to word issues. For example, a student wrote to me because they were participating in an encampment for Palestinian liberation. And I just feel so proud of them! I remember my younger days–I was in all the campaigns and struggles, I was there! I feel so proud of them, but I don’t know if I can write to them and say that. Is that ok? In Nicaragua I can say that, I can write and say I’m proud of them. They wrote an amazing email–so much feeling, motivation, I was so happy. But for example, can I say that I’m proud of you? 

It’s been a nice experience, because I’m learning. I’m learning about another culture, another type of young people in the US. I know that this is a huge country, with lots of diversity, but I feel there are some common trends among the young people, at least at the university level. And there must be because otherwise we wouldn’t be having all these encampments at different universities across the country – there is a common thread among the young people. But it’s quite different than in Nicaragua.

 

For me, for being a teacher, it’s so important to have this kind of connection, not just with the brain of people, but with the heart of people. Who are you, what do you feel?

 

A: How does it feel to be pursuing your doctorate here? 

M: From my experience with being involved in a literacy campaign in Nicaragua, I was so inspired and I decided I wanted to be a teacher and it’s what I’ve been doing since 1998. Because I was at the University, I had the chance to get a Fulbright scholarship and do a masters in Sociology.  But doing a doctorate wasn’t something that was on my agenda, there are no doctorate programs in Nicaragua. It’s not so easy to apply and get funds. Maybe it’s the energy of the universe, but I came here for an exchange at Seattle University, and a friend encouraged me to apply. I wasn’t sure because of my age, but I’m so happy to be doing it. I’m enjoying it a lot. Getting my PhD is an opportunity to organize my ideas, my experience. And when I finish my PhD, I want to be able to go back to my country, to re-open my university because the government has closed the university.

 

A: What’s the most challenging/interesting/surprising part about studying human rights in the US vs Nicaragua? 

M: In Nicaragua, human rights is an everyday issue, from when you wake up until you go to bed. The inequalities are huge–the lack of opportunities in my country is huge, and we have an unaccountable government. It’s kind of an everyday issue—more advocacy, political and social mobilization. Here it’s different–it’s more an academic field of study, doing research, but also doing advocacy. It’s interesting because having been teaching at the University in Nicaragua, I can just remember one time, a small six-week seminar in human rights and small research with students. Just once in all the years teaching there! Because the activism part is bigger than the academic part. And there were a lot of people in Nicaragua working on human rights issues, there was a huge network of human rights activists in Nicaragua–really huge, important, and strong. But here I’ve been more involved in the academic discussion of human rights.

 

In Nicaragua, human rights is an everyday issue, from when you wake up until you go to bed.

 

A: Is there anything else you’d like to share with us?

M: Well, just thinking about the Benjamin Linder award, I also was in Nicaragua when Benjamin Linder was killed. It was too much for us because it’s sad, very sad. There were a lot of people dying at that time. This war left 5,000 young people dead, most of them younger than 25. It was a big, big wound in our society; and he was one of them. He was also a young person. He took a big risk to go, because the place where he went was on the war front. The pain I feel for him is mixed in with the pain I feel for the young people of Nicaragua who also died, it’s the whole thing of it all.

At that time, during the war, it was in the 80’s, I was working with a youth organization. I was doing activism work because the war was a big issue for the young people. We were trying to give a little bit of relief to the young people. We organized a cultural movement, sport activities, kind of trying to offer some relief in the middle of a war. 

 

The pain I feel for him [Benjamin Linder] is mixed in with the pain I feel for the young people of Nicaragua who also died, it’s the whole thing of it all.

 

Around that time I also left the University. I began there in 1977, I left in 1982 to participate in this literacy campaign I was involved in, and after the campaign I stayed working in the popular education movements. I eventually went back to the University, and then I left again, and returned again.

 

It’s not enough just to be a student, to read and write, I–all the time–feel like I need to connect. It’s been the experience of my life.

 

Over the years I have been very politically involved in my country; and now the situation in Nicaragua is really hard—it’s one of the reasons why I am here [in Seattle] because there is no safe place to be now in Nicaragua for people that are not in favor of the current government. Though, it’s hard to feel connected here, in a new place. I was part of different networks back home–women’s networks, other university networks. I used to work a lot with young people, but here I am trying to find some sort of place to feel connected. I do feel I’m slowly getting connected to issues here, to things that are important to me. It’s not enough just to be a student, to read and write, I–all the time–feel like I need to connect. It’s been the experience of my life.