Rape and Alcohol

Over the last few weeks, I've been fortunate enough to speak to several fantastic bloggers and journalists, who have been writing about victim blaming and violence. Most of this has been related to a the posters at occupational health (which have now been taken down), though I was asked to comment on a different issue today.

Judge Mowat, who is thankfully retiring, publicly stated that rape convictions will not fall until women stop getting drunk. She effectively told women that if they are drinking, their cases will be dismissed and they might as well not prosecute.This attitude is worrying, coming from anyone. But when it comes from someone as highly regarded, it is dangerous. 

The statement I gave to the journalist is as follows:

"These statements, by a respected and trusted figure, are extremely worrying. Rape is the result of the perpetrators actions, and it is these that need to be examined, not the victim's. The archaic attitudes and stereotypes, combined with the taboo of sexual violence, mean that many women feel unable to seek the justice that they deserve or the support that they need. Rape happens to women of all ages, from all backgrounds, of all appearances and in all communities, and outdated, blinkered views of an 'acceptable victim'  need to be challenged."

There's far more that I could have said "officially", but people better qualified than me had already covered these issues, including Rape Crisis England and Wales, and Oxford Sexual Abuse and Rape Crisis Centre. 

Yet again, it shows how desperately we need to open a dialogue on the concept of consent. If respected judges and juries are telling women that women are at fault if they are so drunk they can't remember, and talk of whether they consented or not, it really brings into question their own knowledge of the law. After all, the perpetrator must reasonably believe that the woman had consented, and if the woman cannot remember because she had been so inebriated (which was claimed by Judge Mowat), then she evidently lacked capacity to consent.

Comments on the Mail Online's article include such gems as:

"Being so drunk you can't remember names makes you vulnerable, that's not blaming it's stating a fact", "Blame the ladette culture"

"Obviously people who are out drinking are easy targets"

"Women have to learn their limits"

"You wouldn't leave your front door open when you go on holiday"

"Women should fight like fury if they ever find themselves in such a situation"

"It wasn't your fault - well, it is if you get too drunk!"

"Men will learn not to rape when we all get into paradise."

But what do you expect from the average Daily Mail reader, eh?

Thing is, these comments show several of the key problems with the general public's perception of rape. Time and time again, people were writing about being out, being alone and vulnerable... but only one third of reported cases involve alcohol, not the vast majority as seems to be implied. And most callers to rape crisis helplines knew their attacker. That's not to negate the impact on those who are raped by strangers, but statistically speaking, the image put forward by these readers is the tiny minority.

As for fighting like fury and talking about injury and DNA samples as evidence, it again shows a lack of understanding. It is not as simple as fighting. There is fight or flight, but there is a third reflex as well - freeze. Both times that I was raped, I became incredibly still and passive. Maybe it was self-preservation, trying to stop any further physical harm, but it certainly didn't mean I consented in any way.

If women were to be responsible for reducing the risk to themselves and do this effectively, the actual list of advice would be rather different. It would include such gems as don't date, don't marry, don't make any friends (particularly male ones). Don't smile at anyone, don't leave your house, and live as a hermit in complete isolation.

Basically, it's completely and utterly impossible to protect oneself from rape, because it is the perpetrator's decision and fault. The victim cannot be expected to change her actions, her clothing or anything else, especially when that doesn't actually have any correlation to the incident (but even if it did...!)

People have preconceived ideas as to what a rape victim is. They don't see the reality of the situation, to the extent that I received a good and proper trolling on Twitter a few weeks ago, where I was told that no-one would ever want to rape a "land-whale" like me. Yet again, rape is reduced to a sexual act, rather than one of control and power.

What seems to be positive is that the dialogue is starting. Even publications like the Daily Mail, which have a historically poor reputation with regards to women's rights issues, are reporting positively about victim-blaming. Maybe the readers are still reluctant, but change takes time.

If you are interested in reading the Daily Mail article, it can be found here.

I am NOT a statistic

91% of rapes are committed by people known to the victim.

'Only' 9% of rapes are committed by strangers.

One of the weirdest concepts for me is that I am on both sides of this statistic that Nottingham Rape Crisis Centre tweets quite frequently. And, possibly odder than that, both make me bristle equally.

91%? Are we not outraged by this figure, that so many men in our lives are taking advantage and abusing us in the most horrific way imaginable? 91%, so my case is nothing unusual, nothing special, I'm just another woman, another number, another nameless, faceless victim?

I hate that 91% statistic, because it trivialises what I've experienced, what hundreds and thousands of women have experienced, and it reduces us all to a "one size fits all". Organisations like NRCC spend so much time and money trying to educate people that we are all different, that our reactions and stories are unique, that this universal statement feels like it's undermining that.

On the other hand is the 9% comment. Because it's aiming to dispel the myths that all rapes are committed by strangers, aiming to reassure those women who think "I must be over-reacting; it's just rough sex", but it does far more than that. It takes an already isolating situation, where a woman can feel like no-one could possibly understand, and reinforces that. Been raped by a stranger? Then you're a freak, you're alone.

There's also the "97% of callers to our helpline knew their attacker" tweet, which is even more uncomfortable than the previous one. I think I was so distressed that I laughed and jeered, "Well, aren't I ******* special, then?!" at my computer screen.

And despite this, I applaud NRCC's work to raise awareness of the truth behind rape. I love that they're breaking taboos, talking about difficult subjects and getting discussions going. I just wish there was a way to do it that didn't dehumanise the brave and passionate women that they work with.

Occasionally, I get a little embarrassed that these tweets elicit such an emotional reaction. After all, I'm quite capable of switching off, removing myself from attachment from the statistics, of working alongside people on difficult topics and advocating. 

Then I remember that my emotions are what make me human. Yes, they're all over the place, unpredictable and sometimes a little disproportional, but they're mine. MINE.

And where does that leave me? Because now I feel a little guilty about my feelings, and unable to raise the questions or challenge the wording, but then I'm pleased that I reacted because it's a reminder that I'm human (and proves that these tweets actually have an impact!) and still indignant that people are being swept under the carpet.

Actually, it leaves me silent. I've been watching this for several months now, not quite sure how to phrase my discomfort, until I saw a brave woman stand up and challenge today. And I'm grateful for it. Incredibly so.

I think what I'm trying to say is that rape makes me angry. It makes me absolutely furious. I don't care whether it's a stranger, husband, friend, someone I met in the pub... because it is a man who has committed a completely unforgivable act of sexual and psychological violence. 

Yes, we need to know the statistics and strong, emotional reactions to them mean that they are taking effect, but for every statistic, can we look at the human impact? For every number, can we have a reminder that every single woman is unique, important and loved? And can we please, please get rid of "only" and language that reduces us to some sort of caged animal, a curiosity in the corner?

Back To Nine

I still remember my first visit to Nottingham Women's Centre. I was surprised by how bright, warm and friendly the welcome area was, and how everyone else seemed...normal.

I sat down nervously on one of the sofas, not quite sure if I was supposed to make my own way up to the Rape Crisis Centre, or if someone would come down to fetch me. Or if people would make assumptions if I asked the way. I wasn't quite ready to acknowledge that out loud.

There was a blonde woman in the kitchen area, who looked up and asked if I needed help. Without any sort of judgement, she asked if I was going up to NRCC and told me to follow her. As we walked, she explained how she had been for counselling there, how it does get better, that life becomes bearable and how that place gets under your skin... you don't just walk away from the women's centre.

I didn't believe her back then. I couldn't see a way that I could live without the hurt, or that other things could be at the centre of my life out of choice and happiness rather than forcing them into the spotlight in order to hide from the horrors I was avoiding. I couldn't quite grasp how I could move on without forgetting, deal with what I remembered, be happy...

And if I didn't believe her then, I believed her even less as counselling continued. As we explored feelings and delved into the problems that I faced, everything seemed more hopeless than ever. How was I supposed to heal from something that was ripped open every time we spoke?

I began to go camping again, do the things that I loved. It gave me confidence that other things could take priority in my life, and that I was still the girl that I was before all this, even though I had changed a bit. I took opportunities and did things that pushed me, such as Roverway in Finland and the Stop The Violence seminar in Belgium. I began to learn that I had a voice. Not just any voice, but a powerful, authentic voice.

Progress isn't measured in perfection, but in the little victories. Camping in the wilderness of Evo, speaking at a feminist event, going back to the scene of the violence. It's measured in the nights without nightmares, going out without panicking, working every day with children the same age as my daughter would have been. Progress is a journey.

I was first raped on 26th February 2005. Every year, I avoid the world in any way possible on that date. Whether it is pretending to be ill or booking a day off work, I barely ever leave the house, choosing instead to curl up in a nest of cuddly toys and watch a film. The only real exception was in 2011, when I was forced to attend a first aid training day and did so whilst suffering panic attacks and flashbacks the whole time.

Last year, I was very aware of the date. I didn't work, but also never panicked or cried. I said at counselling that night that it felt like any other day. I'm not sure it did, to be honest. Not looking back on that now.

This Wednesday was the 26th February. I got up, headed to work, ate my porridge and did my preparations. I taught my first couple of sessions, got my morning hugs from the usual suspects in year three, made a few lewd jokes with my boss. I went for a meeting in his office - just me and him - to discuss a couple of issues, then headed back. And I wrote the date on the board...

"Oh..." I stopped and clutched my head, just for a second. I'd seen it and felt dizzy. Just for a second, because it had caught me completely unaware. The 26th February really was just like any other day, and all of a sudden it caught up with me; how I was stood in that place, teaching, meeting with male colleagues, acting like anyone else.

I suddenly realised exactly what that woman had meant. I hadn't forgotten what happened to me, I hadn't forgotten what day it happened on or anything else, but somehow it was manageable. Somehow, I was able to get up, go to work and just do my normal thing.

After that brief moment, I continued for the rest of the day. And when I got home, remembering the date, I put all my cuddly toys on my bed, and did my annual tradition of nesting with a Disney film. Not because I needed it, not because I was hiding, but because it's part of me - I love my Disney and I deserve it after a tough day.

My past is always going to be a part of me. In some ways, because of the writing that I do and the campaigns I'm involved in, it will be quite an integral part of me and something that I'm not necessarily willing to cast aside. But it's something that I work with, giving myself time to heal, grieve, celebrate and love, as I need it.

These days, I find that I'm the woman talking of experience and how we can heal. I'm the woman that praises the women's centre and NRCC and the amazing work they do with women of all backgrounds. I'm the one that's never really left, still doing things and feeling like the women at the centre are extended family. And I find myself thanking those women from that very first visit for welcoming into their community.

In This Place

In this place,
I feel the ghosts of my past
flickering in and out of existence.
I feel what was and what could have been
drowning out the present, colliding.

In this place,
I can  see my journey around me;
the panic ridden start and the call to action.
I see the women whose lives I touched
and the ones I never will.

In this place,
the emotions clamour to be heard;
wanting acknowledgement
and yet now - just as months ago -
I feel myself holding back the tide.

In this place,
I witness the growth;
the blossoming of awareness and my relationship with myself.
I witness the areas of need
and hold myself accountable to self-care.

In this place,
I promise myself truth -
just as I did back then.
I promise myself love and patience,
to allow myself to grieve.

This was written as part of Nottingham Women's Centre's "Writing For Healing" session, which I stumbled upon. It will be performed at their Silence The Violence event later in March.

News Headlines

This article was written as part of the Special Contributions Team for the EVB Campaign. For more information, please visit their website.

Every day, we are faced with a myriad of victim-blaming stories. A brief visit to three of the major news outlets uncovered no fewer than twelve inappropriate headlines or by-lines. From placing emphasis on a victim’s alcohol consumption to casting their abuse into doubt through misplaced quotation marks, each tells a stark tale of the media’s attitude towards those experiencing violence.

“Ethopian teenager who says she was raped by seven men…”

“155% rise in children groomed by sex gangs.”

“A beautician was left scarred for life after a fellow clubber glassed her when she refused to dance with him, it is claimed…”

“The woman was attacked while drunk…”

“Left demands answers from senior Labour trio over links to child sex group”

“Drama teacher charged with having sex with schoolboy she met while directing production of hit musical”

Though the last refers to the female abuse of a male, it is still an important example of how sub-editors choose to represent the sexual assault and violence towards children, young people and minors who are legally unable to consent to sexual activity.

In fact, victim blaming happens so often in today’s media that many people are increasingly immune to it. In creating a hierarchy of “worst examples”, are the ones at the top of the list those that shock, or the ones so subtle that they infiltrate the public consciousness at an unnoticed level? In fact, is it healthy to create a hierarchy at all, or should we challenge each and every instance?

Every single article, headline or comment that involves victim blaming is important. Each and every instance damages confidence in society, encourages self-doubt and self-blame. Each case reinforces society’s belief that male perpetrators and their reputations should be protected. There is a tendency to assume “innocent until proven guilty” which neglects to respect the needs of the victim.

In a society where over 90% of sexual assaults are thought to go unreported, it is imperative that women are believed and treated with the dignity that they deserve, so that they feel valued as members of the community and so that they have the confidence to work with authorities in the knowledge that they will be supported if or when they feel that they want to take further action.

Why does so much victim blaming exist in the media, particularly with regard to sexual assault and court cases? It is largely, as we know, both a symptom and cause of the gender inequality that exists, and created by the personal contexts of the journalists and editors. But more than that, the culture of legal action in which we live, where the press is held accountable for every comment and by-line printed about public figures, it is understandable that they would be wary about false accusations and anything that could cost the company. Unfortunately – and wrongly, of course – many editors find it far easier to side with the well-known personality, than to go with an anonymous member of the public who has little method of recourse.

However, there are ways to avoid litigation without blaming the victims of abuse and without holding them accountable for their own experience. There is language that can be used to report cries and allegations that allow women to retain confidence in the system.

Many instances of victim-blaming in recent headlines have been linked to three areas. But it is essential that sub-editors and journalists are not just challenged, but offered alternatives.

Firstly, all reports concerning children and minors who have been victims need to be referred to as instances of rape or sexual abuse. It is not sex, they are not having relationships with their abusers. If a young person is under the age of consent, then they cannot consent. Lack of consent is called rape.

If a person is in a position of responsibility, they are the ones who should ensure that any infatuation, signs of sexualised behaviour towards them (which can in itself be a warning sign of other abuse) or other unusual activity is referred up the chain, to the designated child protection officer. All persons working with young people receive extensive safeguarding training, from those involved in youth organisations such as Girlguiding or The Scout Association, to those working in schools. People in positions of care must not be mitigated by apparent flirtation – they are the abusers when acting in these cases, not the young person.

In cases purporting to allegations of sexual assault, it is imperative that the language used validates the information given by the victim whilst maintaining the legal boundaries. For example, terms such as ‘claims’, in addition to quantifiers such as ‘apparent’ and various quotation marks that lay doubt on the case should be replaced by neutral terms such as reports, allegations and – most preferably in a legal situation – charges. It is too easy for a journalist’s need for synonyms to open up connotations about the plausibility of the case.

Thirdly, a better understanding of this country’s legal system needs to be conveyed in writing. Not guilty does not mean innocent. A perpetrator can only be convicted if the crime can be proven beyond reasonable doubt which, in cases where the crimes may have been twenty or thirty years in the past, can be extremely difficult. Even more so when the people to be convinced are a jury made up of those exposed to victim-blaming on a daily basis.

Inconclusive evidence does not make someone innocent, and it certainly doesn’t make their allegations a “flight of fancy”, as they have been referred to in some parts of the media. Not guilty simply means that the jury wasn’t absolutely, 100% certain of the crime.

Subeditors need to be cautious when using the word innocent, or commenting on the victims in these cases of male violence against women. They must be accurate – speak of guilty or not guilty, or even not proven, but the word innocent is not an alternative for this, nor is the assumption that the victims in these cases have been “inventing” the trauma that they have experienced.

Headlines and by-lines needn’t be less “sensational”. They needn’t abandon the principles of snappy sound-bites and high sales. They needn’t be wordier nor must they risk legal action for reporting unsubstantiated or unproven claims. But editors, sub-editors and journalists must respect the basic human rights and dignity of victims and adopt a stance of neutrality that ensures those experiencing abuse feel supported rather than distrusted.

[This piece was written prior to the media reports about a 14yo child charged with rape of his mother and so the associated headlines are not included in this analysis.]

The Right Victim

“I know it wasn’t my fault,” I told my counsellor last summer. “It was his; he was the one who did it… At least it was only me he got.”

This was my reaction to being raped a second time. At least it was only me.

I couldn’t quite understand why she was so upset by this, not at the time. After all, surely it was better that I was the victim than someone else? I was already damaged goods, I’d already been through it once before, and I was getting the right support so didn’t have to experience the ordeal of finding it again. If he was going to attack someone – and statistics would imply that it was premeditated to some degree – then I was grateful it was me and not another woman.

I thought that I was being rational and mature about a terrible situation, that my presence that evening had somehow saved this nameless, faceless victim. To some extent, a lot of women do this, try to put a positive spin on it. I know I’m not alone, and protective strategies such as this have their place. We need ways to carry on.

But as time went on, I started to realise something awful. Because by assuming that responsibility, or accepting myself as the “right person”, I was becoming complicit in the victim-blaming culture that had developed around me.

No, I wasn’t suggesting it was my fault because I had been alone in the sauna, or that I had made myself vulnerable in the clothing that I had worn. However, by adopting a position as the “best” target, I had created a hierarchy of merit.

No-one deserves to be raped. No-one is asking for it or putting themselves in the wrong position or to blame in any way. It is only ever the perpetrator’s fault. End of.

A single woman shouldn’t feel “grateful for the attention”, nor should anyone feel that it’s “harmless fun”, and someone who has been there before shouldn’t feel any less important or any more deserving because of their past.

The End Victim Blaming Campaign asks us to think about our own frame of reference, how we respond to stories and why we respond in that way. Sometimes it’s also useful to think about how we would respond if it was another person reacting that way too, allowing us some perspective and a chance to review without feeling that the self-care is self-ish.

I know that if a friend or colleague told me that they were relieved it was them, that they didn’t matter and they weren’t important because they were damaged, I would be appalled. Because we all matter; we are all worthy of love, care and respect.

As a teacher, I’ve worked alongside children who have been victims and witnesses of male violence against women and children. It never fails to shock me how many so-called professionals will say, “At least it’s only ----‘s family, it’s not like they had much promise anyway.” No. Just no.

You see, there are even further reaching implications than hierarchies compounding victim-blaming. The idea that some people are more deserving of assault than others is in direct opposition to equality. If we believe in equal rights for any group, we need to believe in equality for all. How can I support feminism and the idea that all humans are equal if I don’t consider that child to be just as deserving of safety and love as every other child in my school? How can I support equal rights for all people if I won’t even afford myself the same dignity as I afford others?

Challenging others starts with challenging ourselves. How do we respond to others and how do we respond to our own situations? Do we allow ourselves healing time? Do we allow ourselves to care? Because believing in our own rights and equality, believing in our own right to safety and compassion, is an important step in challenging the hierarchy and victim-blaming culture.

There is no “right victim”, not even me.

The Right Victim was written as a submission for EVB Campaign's website, which they are posting on 20th February 2014.

Stay Safe

I was quite happily drunk texting my boss and browsing Facebook, when I stumbled upon one of those posts that made me simultaneously rub my hands in glee and groan internally.

The post was a link to the Nottinghamshire Police website, about three women who had been "assaulted". My contact had written underneath it, "stay safe". A chance to open a dialogue on language, victim-blaming, responsibility and so much more... fantastic! Another article telling us women to behave nicely and be good little girls...? Not so much.

So we started talking. Talking about why it's important to remember that the male perpetrators of violence are at fault, why women shouldn't be told to stay sober, stay in herds, stay properly dressed... Talking about how society has conditioned us into these subconscious implications that women are to blame for the violence against them.

Then I read the article.

Instantly, I was horrified. Actually, I think I've been trained to be horrified by anything written by Nottinghamshire Police - they don't have the best record with male violence towards women (Christmas campaign, anyone?). And after yesterday's ridiculous Question Time with George Galloway (who seems oblivious to the technicalities of the legal system), I was already on high alert.

Walk in well-lit areas. Keep handbags buckled. Walk with other people. The article barely stopped short of warning against short skirts and red wine.

It was pointed out to me that all the advice offered was gender-neutral, important safety advice for all people. Yet it was handbags prioritised, not rucksacks. And when was the last time that men were advised not to walk alone? I don't accept this idea that it was aimed at everyone - far more likely that we've been conditioned to roll over. But that could be the drink talking.

Yes, there is some advice that is basic crime prevention - keep valuables out of sight and be aware of your surroundings. But we do need to consider the message being spread, particularly when the police are asking for women to share the message to "stay safe".

What are your views on safety messages?

Add Your Voice

Today feels like a sort of birthday for me. The international day for the elimination of violence against women. It featured quite heavily in my life in 2012.

A year ago, I attended the WAGGGS Europe Stop The Violence seminar. At the time, I was doing it because I wanted to learn how to facilitate learning in my unit roles, and because the girls themselves had asked me to take part. I never for a moment thought that we'd be challenged to speak out and take real, practical action, and couldn't imagine a situation where I'd feel comfortable being part of a movement acting for change.

One of the things that I've realised over the past year is that I'm not alone in that feeling. The situation for women worldwide is so horrific, so incredibly dire and overwhelming, that it feels like we're tiny drops in an ocean. How can one woman make any impact? But we can. We must.

Not everyone has to try and infiltrate News International (a la Yas Necarti) or lead a campaign. But every one of us has skills and talents that we can share and use to support our sisters, both locally and around the world.

Do what you know: You could retweet articles or statistics from the many inspiring women on Twitter, reply to them, engage in conversation and add your voice. You could do a sponsored event to raise money for a local (or international) women's charity. Attend women's groups, get involved in the community and meet others. I was going to say "start small", but it's not small - it's amazing.

Advocating for women's rights doesn't mean being on an international stage, necessarily, but being able to take action. Local campaigns often have a bigger "real-world" impact than some of the national ones that get lost. How about poster campaigns in schools or in the workplace, a flash-mob or getting a load of colleagues to volunteer at your local women's centre for a day or two?

Getting the media involved doesn't have to be scary either. Run an event and send them the details. Local press love to hear about local people. And with so many different forms of media these days, including the power of social media, getting word out there is easier than ever.

Every action has an impact. Every action reaches and touches someone else. Every action is important and worthwhile.

A year on, and I'm more determined than ever to fight. Speaking out against violence is tough, it's not easy to do and even less easy for people to hear. I've learnt that some will turn away or try to silence you, but I've learnt that it's worth it.

I've heard from other women who have been raped, who have been so grateful that they are not alone. I've heard from women who have self-harmed, who feel like there is sisterhood out there. I've heard from women who didn't know the reality facing their peers, and from women who felt like they've lost everything. Each and every one of these women has reminded me why I do this, even when it's difficult and even when it feels I'm having to make sacrifices.

Sometimes it feels like I'm just one voice, one silly little girl with a blog and a Twitter account. But then I remember that you're reading this blog and that people have read my Twitter feed. And suddenly, that's another silly little girl with a blog and a Twitter account. And we're not so silly anymore. Or so little. 

I said at the start of this blog post that it felt like a sort of birthday. Admittedly, the seminar didn't start until 29th November, but there seems to be something quite special about celebrating the first anniversary of my empowerment today. Because this is where it all began, and where everything in that seminar tied back to, and this is what gave me my initial confidence and inspiration to speak out.

So in the tradition of birthdays, I think there should be gift giving. And possibly cake, but definitely gift giving. And the gift I want you to give is your voice. Find a tweet about violence against women and girls, or an article, or even make a promise, and spread the word.

Anti-Rape Wear

I woke up this morning and checked my Twitter feed (which makes me seem very sad, but I was actually searching for details on the DW 50th anniversary screening... Not helping my case), when I saw a very heated debate being fought by feminist Roweena Russell and the EVB Campaign.

Under normal circumstances, I don't read many posts and links of that nature in Twitter. There's only so much of society's victim-blaming attitude that I can take, and you get to a point where if you read everything that crops up, you're going to lose the will to live.

But something about this caught my eye.

"Anti-rape clothing".

Sure, the suggestion of rape prevention as a female responsibility is misogynistic and dangerously avoiding the real issue of male perpetrators in control. But I was sure the situation couldn't be as bad as EVB were making out. Surely all those outraged feminists were over-reacting, at least a little bit. I was also mildly curious. How could a pair of shorts actually prevent rape? What was so special?

So I went to have a look.

The first thing that struck me was that the product seriously misunderstood the reality of rape. It was designed to protect people from assault on the street, for a start. It is estimated that most women who have experienced rape have been assaulted by men that they knew. Quite often, it is within a relationship, perhaps in bed at night, not when you'd necessarily be wearing shorts or trousers.

How would anti-rape trousers protect a woman who woke up to find her partner inside her,  are we suggesting that to protect themselves, women must wear such clothing every minute of the day that they are not willing to have sex? Would this become permissible evidence in court? And if they are raped at night, as suggested, did they consent by not wearing their preventative clothing?

Of course, it is ridiculous that a pair of shorts or trousers can prevent a woman's rape. You would need an immovable, tear-resistant gag to cover the mouth too, you see. Because the legal definition of rape also includes penetration of the mouth. So now, to ensure that women are protected, we must remember that their mouths are also fully covered at all times too!

The second thing that struck me was that all the images of women, all the prototypes, the whole campaign was geared towards young, slim, beautiful women. Some might say that this is a side effect of the fashion industry, but anyone who genuinely cares about and advocates on VAWG issues will know and understand that rape and related sexual assault happens to women of all ages, of all sizes, of all appearances and from all backgrounds. Genuinely caring and ethical companies would reflect that in their campaign, to lessen the isolation and counteract the myths surrounding society's perceived victim profiles.

Oh, the myths. It was bad enough when they talked about protecting oneself when on a run, when on a first date and so on, but then they spoke of "risky situations", they used accusatory language about "even if she's had too much to drink", as if alcohol intake is a reason for rape. It really isn't. Every single part of the video and the campaign put the responsibility on the woman for the hypothetical attack, and it also put the responsibility on her for prevention. It proliferated myths and stereotypes that research has proven to be simply untrue.

This product, and the way it is being marketed, is dangerous and damaging to women everywhere and could seriously impair and hinder the emotional well being and recovery of those who have suffered serious trauma.

And if only they were my sole concerns.

What is to stop an attacker coercing the woman into giving him the release code for the clothing? What if she has, in fear, forgotten it? The company claims research disproves an increase in violence, but what research is this?

The first time I was raped, my attacker tried to strangle me. He repeatedly smashed my head against the concrete. I don't remember him leaving, but do remembering opening my eyes and him not being there, so presumably he had left me for dead. He said he would kill me. If I had been "protected" by this clothing, would he have just killed me anyway? Would the enhanced rage and frustration given him the power to actually do it, rather than just render me unconscious?

You see, rape itself is rarely an act of passion, connected with sexual attraction or a spur of the moment, lack of control type of event. Usually, it is premeditated in some way, and it is always about control. Yes, by wearing supposed anti-rape clothing, you are removing some of that control from the perpetrator, but aren't you also opening these women up to even more danger when he loses control in that moment of anger?

I don't know the answer.

Another concern that struck me is practical and medical. This clothing is designed to be resistant to tearing cutting and all sorts of other destructive methods. Just suppose a woman is involved in an accident and needs to be rushed to hospital. There, the doctors find that they are unable to remove the clothing. What happens then? Yes, significant portions of the clothing are normal fabric, but that doesn't get rid of the leg bands, waist bands or the gusset. And in the event that there is a safety code to unlock the garments in these circumstances, what prevents potential rapists from obtaining that same code?

There are many other problems with the situation, such as the financial implications and the fact that anti-rape wear is going to heighten the unfounded stereotype that sexual assault doesn't happen in "nice" communities.

Perhaps the company genuinely thought they were doing a good thing. Yes, if women feel confident and empowered in this clothing and want that choice, it is no bad thing, but to campaign using stereotypes, victim-blaming and create a product that potentially puts women in a more dangerous position, that is not. The company has shown that, fundamentally, they don't understand what rape is, who it happens to, why it happens, where it happens or what the real implications of such violent crime are. Let's help educate.

Edit: I have been informed on Twitter that hospital scissors can cut through tough materials, such as biker gear. However, I think clarification from the company would still be a good idea on this matter!

Care Versus Control

It's another exciting day for Girlguiding, as the nation's largest charity for girls and young women launches another campaign to get the voice of its membership heard.

"Care Versus Control" is a new report that uses Girlguiding's "Girls' Attitudes Survey" data to show how young women view coercion, abuse and healthy relationships. It forms part of our work on the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts (WAGGGS) Stop The Violence campaign, and also highlights the importance of peer education in discussing issues of relationships and abuse with young people.

Some of the statistics are shocking:

• Only 23% of girls aged 11-17 fully understood what an abusive relationship was
• Only 18% of girls mentioned psychological or emotional pressures when asked about abuse
• 12% of girls thought that telling you who you can and can't spend time with is ok
• 21% said that telling you what you can and can't wear is acceptable
• 21% said that calling you names could be ok
• 22% thought that checking up on you and reading your phone was acceptable
• 39% said that making you tell your partner where you are all the time is fine

Presumably, by reversing the presented statistics:

• 4% think that kicking, biting or hitting a girl for talking to someone else at a party is ok
• 5% think that it is sometimes ok to threaten a girl with violence for spending time with friends
• 6% think it can be acceptable to threaten a girl into having sex in certain circumstances

The "Care Versus Control" report lays out what many of us youth professionals have known for a long time, and what Christine Barter (who conducts the NSPCC research on behalf of the University of Bristol) has also reported; young people want peer educators, not teachers or trained professionals.

In Girlguiding, we are lucky to have an established Peer Education system, with fantastic and fully trained young women aged 14-26 who offer sessions on various sensitive topics. I often find that this resource is underused, particularly in my area. It's an example I often point to when working with teachers; training older pupils to be mentors and session leaders will have multiple benefits.

Firstly, it allows the young people involved in discussion to open up in a way that they can't always do with their "regular" adult. Certain phrases, types of language and attitudes are often seen as unacceptable in a normal meeting or classroom environment. If we want our young people to be comfortable and open in discussion, they also need to be comfortable and open in the language they can use to facilitate that, and be free from judgement in that. Outside providers also free them fro lasting embarrassment with a face they have to see each week, as well as providing the trained "mentors" with valuable leadership and transferable skills.

Understandably, and quite rightly, the "Care Versus Control" report has sparked debate on Twitter, asking questions such as "how can we help girls to recognise abusive relationships?" 

One lady, who shall be called HH, replied "Ensure your own relationships are healthy and lead by example". I wasn't sure I agreed with this statement. In fact, I positively bristled at it, and it took me a little while to work out and articulate why.

As you may know, I'm a huge advocate for leading by example. I find that in my teaching and in my Guiding, I make it my personal motto never to ask my young people to do anything that I wouldn't be comfortable doing myself. I will offer them the chance, of course (I might not feel comfortable doing zip wire, but they still have the opportunity!), but a girl who is struggling with fear will never be forced into it.

So given my own love of this philosophy, and my pedagogical knowledge of the power of modelling, why is it that the "lead by example" response in this case caused so much discord?

Those without experience of abusive relationships often find it difficult to understand the pressures and the attachment that are part of them. It takes a lot of courage to recognise that your own relationship is unhealthy, because it's so easy to try and explain problems away as a rough patch, or something that will get better, or even something that he does because he loves you. And it takes even more strength to walk away from it. Sometimes, that's because you're in love and can't imagine life without them, sometimes it's fear of the consequences, sometimes it's more practical matters like wondering where you're going to live.

When I was younger, a male friend of mine decided he wanted to date me. He put a lot of pressure on me until I finally agreed (knowing I could break it off, because I was moving cities in a few weeks). He pressured me into things I didn't want to do, stopped me seeing certain friends, even sat in the back of my car as I drove an ex-girlfriend from Luton to Sheffield at 2am because he was insanely jealous and didn't trust me. He then asked my parents' permission to marry me, and they announced it locally without even asking. They offered me £50,000 to keep my mouth shut and go through with the wedding. Despite everything that man did to me, the knowledge that I would be financially secure was an incredibly tempting offer.

I knew that relationship was unhealthy, but I wasn't sure where to turn or how to get out of it. 

Women's Aid tell us that when we support other women, we should ensure we listen to their stories and we acknowledge their difficult, traumatic and frightening situation. We also ensure we tell them that no-one deserves to suffer abuse. But we must never tell them to leave the relationship, in case they aren't ready to take that step and in case it's removing another element of control in their lives.

You see, when you survive any sort of abuse, it becomes a matter of regaining control. What that control is, is specific to each individual. But by telling a woman to "ensure" her relationships are healthy, we are judging her relationships, telling her to leave those that are abusive and removing that element of control.

It is also a fine line between a statement that tells the woman to "ensure healthy relationships" and victim blaming. If it is the woman who has the responsibility to make sure her relationships are healthy, there is a subtext that women suffering abuse are to blame for not taking that responsibility. This is simply not true; it is always the fault of the abuser.

I can see where HH was coming from in her advice for other leaders. I can understand how leaders with healthy relationships can help facilitate discussion for others. But in some ways, isn't this somewhat like atheist leaders discussing faith with their girls? It may not be something that comes naturally, and may even be uncomfortable for some, but just because it is not an experience that you are living first hand, doesn't mean that you are in an unsuitable position to be facilitating exploration for others.

Of course, many leaders don't wish to share the personal details of their relationships with their units anyway. Some of my older Senior Section members were aware that I was dating a Guide leader from Leeds last year, but not all of them and certainly not my Guides. None of my girls are aware of my current dating situation and that's the way I like it. I certainly don't want to be "modelling" to my units using my personal life!

"Care Versus Control" is an incredibly important compilation of research, and shows the extent to which the current education system is failing our young people in terms of real-world education. However, the debates coming from this report and Girlguiding's tweets on Twitter also show how badly we need to educate our adults about the difference between empowering women, facilitating discussion and laying responsibility on the wrong parties.

You can read the full "Care Versus Control" report here

Nottingham Women's Conference 2013

As Finn MacKay told us at the start of Nottingham Women's Conference 2013 (also known as NWC2013), Nottingham is one of only a few cities that retains a feminist liberation network, and this conference was the first in the city for more than twenty years.

The event started on a high, MacKay introducing many women new to feminism to key issues that affect us, such as only 20% representation in UK government, 15-19% pay gap remaining even 40 years after equal pay legislation came into effect, the 3 million women affected by male violence each year and much more. Did you realise that there are more licensed lap dancing clubs in this country than rape crisis centres?

We were left with a challenge, for all those embarrassed by feminism and feminists. What is embarrassing about demanding basic human rights for all?

This was followed by addresses from three key speakers. Pragna Patel spoke eloquently on behalf of the Southall Black Sisters about her 34 year old organisation that supports women with a whole range of gender inequality issues. She spoke about their achievements in the forced marriage act and concessions in immigration law, as well as how immigration issues and criminalisation are intertwined with gender-based violence and inequality. We heard of of the dichotomy of familial roles in feminism, that they perpetuate and enforce inequality, yet also provide protection against it. And we were told of the importance of contextualisation, that feminism is not a clinical theory and needs to be discussed in a political context.

The second speaker, Dr Julia Long, spoke about objectification and how it disguises as much as it conveys. She showed how it normalises violence against women and how physical objectification (such as beauty regimes and fashion choices) are used to moderate and control not only physical abilities, but our intellectual and creative potential. Long showed the relationship between a dominant and subordinate group through three main factors; violence (asserting dominance), objectification (removing humanity) and submission (disguise and compliance). If women don't buy into the "dream", the subordination doesn't work. Long was a powerful and emotive speaker, telling the gathered women that, "ultimately, to render a person as an object is to kill them. It is about reducing us to dead bodies."

We also heard from Chris Herries, the chair of the Co-Operatives UK group, who spoke at length about the history of the Co-Op and how women have been involved. She, interestingly, agreed that the "lads mags" sold by the stores are indeed pornographic, and that we should all become members so we can complain, campaign and change as joint owners of the corporation.

All three women raised an important point, that resurfaced throughout the day in various workshops. Male violence against women, societal enforcement of gender-inequality against women is a huge problem that needs to be named. Though Theresa May and other politicians are telling us that they acknowledge the problem and the significant and disproportionate effect on women, they are trying to promote a gender-neutral approach. They want to discuss violence. They want to discuss forced marriage. They don't want to discuss who is doing what to whom. But if we remove the gender-issue, we a removing part of the problem, we are hiding it from view. We need to address it, name it and keep talking.

Lunch was a wonderful opportunity to network, and I got the opportunity to meet with people working in schools, organisations such as Equation, and the wonderful Roweena Russell, who already feels like a sister!

The afternoon was split into various workshops, run by different organisations. The first I attended was run by the End Victim Blaming campaign. We looked at the definition of victim blaming as well as exploring our own frame of reference and how that affects our ideas and attitudes. I took away several things from the workshop, including the idea of a group learning agreement and some of the things to include in it. I will be using that one tomorrow!

We are, as individuals, all controlled in our response to victim blaming by a personal frame of reference. This includes both internal and external factors and affects thoughts, feelings and behaviour. Our frame of reference is not fixed, but it can be hard to change.

For example, as a child I was constantly told that I would never be attacked because I didn't look pretty and I wasn't dainty. The consequence of this message was that I believed that I must have been responsible for my experience, because I couldn't identify with the idea of sexual assault. Another example given by EVB was the media's portrayal of a case, saying that a woman had been "flirting all night" which led to her policing her own behaviour and that of others.

We get messages from everywhere, from the fact that women are targeted about postal safety, that girls are taught in schools, messages from other women, even. Our culture grooms young women to believe in Prince Charming and fairy tales. Men are seen as our salvation, so it must be us who are broken.

We're not.

It was a deeply personal workshop for many of us. Though I now speak openly about my experience of rape eight years ago, and am starting to speak about my experience six weeks ago, it is still a challenge. And the thought of discussing personal references with strangers left me physically sick and shaking, a reaction that I've not felt in quite some time! Some women were braver than me, though. They shared their experiences and they were thoroughly supported in that environment.

We were left with advice, advice that seems simple and obvious, but advice that need to be taken. How can we support victims and start to challenge victim blaming?

1. Acknowledge and challenge our own beliefs.

2. Respectfull challenge others.

3. Change our own language.

4. Complain to the Pess Complaints Commission and services when we see victim blaming in media.

5. Believe and support victims. Tell them that you believe them.

6. Support EVB Campaign and spread the word.

I can't speak about the next section of the event, as I decided to take some time out for self-care at this point in the day. It was an incredibly useful time for me to reflect and take stock of what I had learnt and where I was emotionally. D and all at Nottingham Rape Crisis have taught me well!

I went back in for part of the campaign planning session, where a myriad of local and national causes were represented. Everything from fighting bedroom tax to the No More Page Three campaign, from writing a feminist publication to a female skills base... It was all there.

The second round of workshops meant going to see Equation for me. Equation works with young people on a range of sensitive issues, such s violence and self-esteem. The session was based around their secondary targeted Know More campaign and the importance of female networks.

Using NSPCC statistics, Equation stated that 27% of teenage girls have been raped and that 90% of domestic violence incidents have been witnessed by children. Again, they asserted the problem of gender-neutrality approaches to VAWG issues.

We were introduced to different protective factors which help young women avoid or cope with violence and were statistically proven. These were:

1) self esteem

2) belief in their own ability to cope

3) ability to deal with change

4) ability to problem solve

There were also existing factors, which included:

1) family cohesion

2) presence of at least one consistent adult in their lives

3) a close bond with the survivor (if violence had been witnessed)

4) strong support networks

5) out of school activities

We were told about the importance of female support networks and how they decrease isolation, provide a check-in point, enable girls to identify support and let them see value in being a women. It reminded me of how invaluable Girlguiding and other femal-only space really is, when it is used well! 

Social messaging also featured as an important part of the mix, how the genders are engaged in competition and taught differently about their worth and competency, as well as taught that girls shouldn't trust each other. Our society is constantly trying to break the bonds between women and isolate us.

Equation spoke to us about how creativity is essential in memorable projects with young women, and how it builds esteem. Their Know More project (looking at emotions, choices, aspirations and relationships) helped young women change how they saw themselves and others, improved friendships and how they lt about being a woman.

The closing remarks of the conference reinforced the message that we had been hearing all day. It is not feminism that silences women, it's the men that rape and abuse women who are trying to silence them.

I know there has been controversy surrounding the event, and I know it is likely to arise here, given what I've already experienced on Twitter. What I want to focus on now, though, is the opportunity that NWC2013 gave women to come and explore feminism in Nottingham, whether they have been feminists for years or have not explored issues before. The event was massively over-subscribed, which is a testament to just how much interest and demand there is for these conferences, and a number of organisations and speakers who could have delivered workshops were encouraged to run fringe events as an alternative because the organisers simply did not have the room physically or temporally!

If there is anyone who wants to get involved, there is still time. There are fringe events running into next month, and I am sure planning will soon be underway for next year's event.

For now, though, I'm going to go and hide... At least until tomorrow!

Writes For Women

When I first started my advocacy work for Stop The Violence, I was aware that I was a small voice in a big pond. I was also under the (false!) impression that my personal experience made me weak and stopped me from making a difference.

I felt like my aims needed to be small and local, so I started attending local feminist events and meetings, to network and to see where we could become involved. 

After a while, I met the organisers of the Nottingham Women's Conference, who were looking for fringe events. I spoke to my lovely writers' group and we agreed to host one together. It was exactly what I wanted; small, local, no pressure.

Writes For Women was the first event that I organised or agreed to, but as you know, not the first that  took place. It might seem insignificant, given Nine Worlds in London, or my Ranger Volunteer day at Nottingham Women's Centre, but Writes For Women holds a special place in my heart for being the first.

What made the event special wasn't the number of people participating, but the number of people who weren't writing, but engaged with the event anyway. We had leaflets and fact sheets about gender inequality laid around our venue, and evy time I walked round, people were talking. Really talking and discussing the problems. Because an event like this isn't just about the writing, or the money, it's about opening discourse on taboo subjects.

I spent my weekend writing about my personal experience of gender inequality and violence. I chose it knowing the impact certain blog posts have had on women and how female networks decrease the sen of isolation. At some point, I will share this work, though the format mains to be seen. My challenge was to write 10,000 words in two days. To put this in perspective, when we do the NaNoWriMo challenge in November, we say writers should aim for 1,125 words per day. It was a huge challenge, but a huge achievement when I succeeded in under 27 hours of my 48 allocated.

So far, the group has raised £172 for Nottingham Rape Crisis. There are writers donating to other causes too, but I'm incredibly proud of this. If you do want to add to this total, please feel free to visit this Just Giving page.

Unblurring the Lines

Once again, I find myself proud to be a part of Girlguiding, as we have just undersigned the Telegraph's campaign for better sex education in schools as part of the national curriculum. I agree, as I have stated in support of Campaign For Consent, that better sex and relationship education in this country. But a conversation that came out of this discussion had me worried.

It was suggested that the issues of consent, sexual assault and rape should be addressed as sex education, under that banner. Although enthusiastic consent can be partly discussed in terms of healthy relationships, I don't feel comfortable with this overarching banner.

Why not? Because it seems to fit, doesn't it?

Well, yes. And that is part of the problem that needs to be addressed. Our society currently has such a phenomenal misunderstanding of what rape, sexual assault and consent are, that it is not just a part of "sex education". 

We need to show that sexual assault and rape do not equate to sex in any way. Penetration does not equal intercourse. The blurred lines between sexual encounters and sexual assault in our society are harmful to those who experience it and to those around them. In a world that classes rape as a sexual act, women who feel they are unattractive cannot fathom that they might have been assaulted, or feel ridiculous for reporting it. In a world that classes rape as a sexual act, it is glorified and revered in the media. And in a world that classes rape as a sexual act, both men and women are reduced to the worst possible stereotypes of their genders. If these beliefs and reactions are prevalent in society, they are perpetuated and reinforced, leading to a seemingly unbreakable chain.

By including rape, sexual violence and consent as part of sex education in schools, rather than as part of the wider PSHCE (personal, social, health and citizenship education) curriculum, we risk reinforcing the notion that violence is a sexual act rather than one of control. We create yet another generation who fail to see the distinction, and we fail in our duty of empowerment.

When I took my Senior Section members to the Nottingham Rape Crisis Centre in July, they thought they were pretty clued up. But even they assumed that a woman could not be raped by her partner, as she had already consented to sex. They assumed that if a woman consented, then changed her mind, the man had every right to continue, as she had agreed to sex initially. These are the effects of the blurred lines caused by classing rape as a sexual act rather than one of power and control.

It is important that young people are aware of consent within relationships and, with that in mind, it should be discussed as part of healthy relationship education, but much better that than reducing a serious, violent crime to "sex" once again.

Campaign 4 Consent

Yesterday, I was asked to write about why I support "Campaign 4 Consent", this was my rather long and comprehensive response...

Eight years ago, I was raped.

It took me, perhaps surprisingly, quite a while to realise what had happened to me. And even then, I seemed to try giving him excuses – it was my fault because of how I was dressed, it was my fault because I went to his house alone, it was my fault because I should have known better.

The police were just as bad, they reinforced this view and added to it that I was English and everyone knows English girls are asking for it. My mother laughed and told me that I should be grateful that anyone showed any interest in me, because I’m hardly good looking.

This emphasis on physical attraction is harmful to everybody. It often leaves those who have experienced sexual assault doubting their experience (“it couldn’t have been rape – I’m not pretty enough”) and it reduces men to a violent stereotype who have no control over their own bodies. This just isn’t true. Rape is all about control, not attraction, and it is about a minority of men who knowingly exert that control.

The myths surrounding rape are widespread and lead to a culture of victim-blaming and dangerous misunderstanding. If we are going to end this disgusting abuse of power, we need to start by educating young people about the reality of sexual assault.

Despite my experience, or perhaps because of it, two years later I achieved my life’s ambition of becoming a teacher. I was fortunate on my course, as I specialised in counselling and pastoral care, getting a lot of input on how to support pupils in disclosure and their personal needs. But only 1/8^th of the cohort did this course and there was absolutely no training on how to deliver sex and relationship education.

In my experience, this lack of training leads to a lack of confidence amongst teachers. Lessons on STIs become an embarrassing joke in the staffroom, as do those on breast cancer, prostate cancer and other such topics. We are increasingly asked to take on extra responsibilities, many of which we don’t understand and often ones where there is no textbook to read up on the night before.

We need access to training, whether that be in school CPD time, or external courses. Training on how to deliver this education in a safe, supportive environment, training on how to deal with awkward questions. We live in fear of disciplinary procedures due to one conversation gone wrong – we need the support of our unions and our headteachers in providing an honest and open classroom where pupils can ask their questions.

As teachers, we currently have the option to refuse delivery of sex education – the only teachers required to impart this area of the curriculum by law are biology teachers. Given that 1 in 4 women are said to experience sexual assault in their lifetime, I strongly believe that it is essential to retain this “option”, though all teachers should have access to adequate training and be encouraged to take it. I remember that in my first few years of teaching, every mention of rape, assault, even sex, could reduce me to tears or a panic attack. That didn’t make me any less of a teacher, it just meant that I needed to care for my needs too. Insisting that every teacher MUST undergo this training and must deliver consent education is harmful to the emotional and psychological wellbeing of the professionals involved and would also undermine the basic principle of consent, safety and development that we are trying to instill.

Every year, I head pupils joking about rape, discussing articles in the media, boys saying, “I would have raped her” or girls telling each other, “it was her fault for dressing like a slut”… but the tides are changing and I’m hearing increasing numbers of young people shouting out about the injustice, or at the very least, questioning their own understanding.

It’s time to change, time to support that questioning and challenge our young people to engage with these issues. We need to teach them the reality of consent, that it is an enthusiastic yes rather than the absence of a no, that rape is about control not attraction, that it is ALWAYS the fault of the perpetrator. We need to show them the options available to them, how to go about reporting, what counselling services are available and we need to liaise better with local and national bodies who can support us in our endeavour.

And if you want proof of the power of knowledge and a healthy relationship with yourself and those around you, I will leave you with one more thought. I was raped a second time, two weeks ago. This time, I know where to go, I am not blaming anyone but him and I am still standing strong and speaking out. A little knowledge can change lives.