This article was originally published by the University of Sussex newspaper, The Badger.
“Text me when you’re home safely!” Such a common conclusion to a night out – especially amongst female friends – may seem innocuous, even sensible. But for some campaigners, such commonplace behaviour reveals that women feel responsible for avoiding their own harassment and assault. Since 1977, feminist groups have organised marches through the streets for women who no longer wish to feel afraid of rape and harassment. These Reclaim the Night marches are still being organised around the UK with an almost unchanged message, despite having roots in 70s feminism. The London Reclaim the Night website demonstrates that 2nd-wave feminist aims can nestle happily alongside contemporary anti-austerity politics: “With ideological cuts threatening the refuge and rape crisis movements in our country we need to take back the capital to demonstrate women’s support for essential women’s services, demand justice for survivors and spread the message that no woman is ever to blame for male violence against her.”
Caitlin Hayward-Tapp, a member of the Brighton Feminist Collective, explains why the group decided to run a local Reclaim the Night march to coincide with the main event in the capital. “It made sense to do a local march, since one of the first Reclaim the Night marches was here in Brighton,” she explains, but also indicates some disagreement with the “mentality” of the London organisers: “There’s been a history of transphobia [at London reclaim the Night] and also a strong anti-sex work sentiment, and that’s not something we choose to support at all.” Unlike in London, the Brighton event is not women-only, and embraces the presence of trans* people and sex-workers who may have their voices silenced by more traditional feminist groups. Caitlin indicates that the silencing of those groups, who have a strong claim to needing safe streets, is “frankly offensive.”
She strongly believes that the task of ending street-harassment and victim-blaming is just as important as it was 40 years ago: “Women are still not feeling safe in the streets. People still think women should be walked home by a male friend at night, even though women are more likely to be attacked by someone they know. There’s a real culture of fear, and of blame too: if a woman was walking on her own and got attacked people will say, ‘well, she should have been with someone, she was asking for it.’”
The statistics reveal this to be no hyperbole. According to the Pixel Project, dedicated to ending violence against women, and the Stop Street Harassment campaign, the percentage of women who report being subjected to harassment in public is regularly recorded as 80-90%. The number of women who have experienced sexual violence is between 1 in 4 and 1 in 7. Defined by the Stop Street Harassment campaign as “[c]atcalls, sexually explicit comments, sexist remarks, groping, leering, stalking, public masturbation and assault,” harassment of this kind is a perennial feminist issue due to its strongly gendered nature: women are mostly the victims, and men are mostly the perpetrators.
Speaking to students on campus, it appears to be on the minds of many young men and women. Tori, a student at Sussex, suggests that street harassment should be of paramount concern to anyone who cares about women’s rights. “It happens to everyone I know whether they identify as female or not. If they’re perceived as female they get catcalled, shouted at, called a dyke…” They explain that Reclaim the Night is an important way of raising awareness and “making it into a national issue, because right now it’s being ignored.” Kye, another member of the Brighton Feminist Collective, agreed that street harassment was a common occurrence for women, “without a doubt. It’s one of those unspoken things that nobody wants to talk about.”
The NUS Women’s Campaign tackled this perceived ignorance around women’s safety with their Hidden Marks report, published in 2010. 1 in 7 female students reported experiencing a serious physical or sexual assault during their time at university, and 68% had experienced verbal or non-verbal harassment in and around their institution. Despite reporting loss of confidence and increased fear after being harassed, only 2% of respondents reported ‘less serious’ assaults because they felt what had happened to them was not serious enough to report. It is this fear of being dismissed that Reclaim the Night aims to tackle by demonstrating the widespread nature of street harassment and sexual assault.
How to tackle the problem is a matter of some debate. In the UK, there is no specific crime of ‘street harassment,’ meaning that victims have limited options if they wish to report their attacker. Jennifer, a student in London, was groped by a man on the street earlier this year. She was told her options were to press charges of sexual assault, which would go to court, or the officer could book him for being drunk and disorderly. Jennifer felt that “just straight away it was down my throat as ‘are you serious enough about this to go through the criminal justice system over a man grabbing your butt?’” She is still waiting to find whether she will have to give evidence in court.
Many Sussex students worried that, were street harassment to become illegal, it would be a difficult crime to define. “I think it would make me feel more safe,” said Amy, who admitted to pretending to be on the phone when walking alone at night to deter harassers, “but it depends how it was enforced.” Tori agrees: “It would be difficult to enforce, but I would like to see harsher penalties for things like following someone home. I’d like to be able to call the police and for them to take it seriously.”
Some women go to great lengths to avoid harassment and assault, like psychology student Rhianna. She has a routine of safety measures for walking alone at night, including “a personal attack alarm that I always carry in my pocket, I actively avoid streets with poor street lighting, and I have a safety text ready send out immediately to my boyfriend or my mum.” Her measures are not exceptions, but seem to echo a feeling amongst other female students that if they don’t take precautions, they could be targets of violence. Esme, a first year Films Studies student, reflects on the messages she absorbed from family and friends: “always travel in groups at night, make sure not to go down any dark alleyways, that sort of thing.”
Other women feel that Brighton is home turf, and does not pose many threats to them. In light of that, campaigns like Reclaim the Night and Stop Street Harassment run the risk of over-emphasising women’s victimhood and reinforcing the culture of fear that is a daily routine for many female students. Vee, a student in her first year, expresses this concern but places the blame firmly at the door of misogynist culture rather than feminist campaigners. “When you’re kids…that’s when it all starts, in my opinion. Don’t tell girls that they’re vulnerable because they’re girls and that boys are tough and strong.” Alicja, a first year medic, feels that Reclaim the Night does portray women as victims, “but in a good way!” She explains, “It raises awareness that [women] are victimized. I’ll be going on the march this year.”
Despite the regular comments from the media on the ‘death of feminism,’ it is clear that Reclaim the Night’s message still resonates strongly with young people, and thousands are expected to march in London on the 24th November. As austerity measures kick in and funding for rape crisis centres and women’s refuges dries up, these protests are only set to get bigger, louder, and angrier.
This article was originally written for the Brighton Feminist Collective.
In September, Sarah Catt was sentenced under section 58 to eight years’ imprisonment for procuring her own miscarriage. When she was close to term, she bought the drug misoprostol, commonly used to induce labour in pregnant women, and took it in her home. She later told police the baby was stillborn. Although it is not illegal to induce your own pregnancy and give birth unattended in your own home, it is an offence secretly to dispose of a child’s body after it is born, under section 60 of the Offences Against the Person Act 1861.
However, Catt was not charged with disposing of a stillborn child’s body. She was instead charged with aborting a baby beyond the 24-week legal limit, the judge determining that Catt’s intent was to abort, not to induce labour. The judge, Mr Justice Cooke, also said: “‘There is no mitigation available by reference to the Abortion Act, whatever view one takes of its provisions which are, wrongly, liberally construed in practice so as to make abortion available essentially on demand prior to 24 weeks with the approval of registered medical practitioners.”
I urge you to read that again: “…wrongly, liberally construed in practice so as to make abortion available essentially on demand…” It may be surprising to hear a judge expand so far beyond the remit of a case; however, Cooke’s pronouncement appears less surprising once you know that he is vice-president of the Lawyers’ Christian Fellowship. The LCF lobby the government on abortion, and their former Director of Public Policy, Andrea Minichiello Williams, said in 2008 that abortion is the work of the devil. One wonders whether Catt would have received the same sentence from a judge without such a vehement opposition to abortion law.
Of course, the media are doing some sentencing of their own. Not content with reporting the facts on a complicated case, tabloids and broadsheets alike have honed in on Catt’s personal life. The affair she was having. The children she had already had. Her previous abortion. As if her previous decisions about her body or her relationships shed any light on her decision to induce labour (or, have an illegal abortion). The Daily Mail, predictably, indicated their attitude with the headline: “Eight years for the cheating wife who used drugs bought online to abort baby TWO days before it was due to be born.”
The Mail also referred to the drug Catt bought as ‘poison.’ Doctors might dispute that. In 2010, an Australian couple were in court charged with a similar offence; Professor Nicholas Fisk, giving an expert testimonial, explained that misoprostol is a commonly prescribed drug, and as this article notes, it is on the World Health Organisation’s essential medicines list for (amongst other uses) labour induction. The couple in this case were acquitted.
It is unclear why Sarah Catt made the decision she did. But, as feminists, we should be concerned that the law can be so moulded to fit the political vagaries of whichever judge presides over a case. We should also be concerned that the media are framing Catt’s decision as one influenced by an ‘immoral’ lifestyle. When access to early and safe abortions is being attacked by government itself, and when NHS services are being threatened, we should be thinking about the web of societal and medical obstacles which might lead to more women ending up in Sarah Catt’s position. Simply pushing for legal reform will not help women access the support they need; too often these reforms are discussed without listening to women’s voices, and leave substantive access problems untouched. Sarah Catt has been held up by the press as the archetypal bad mother, a cheater and a liar who wanted to kill her baby. Her story is more than that. It asks of us, what led this woman to make such a decision? And how can we stop this from happening again?
This article was originally written for the Brighton Feminist Collective.
Naomi Wolf bounced onto the stage of the Brighton Dome’s studio on Friday night with a wide grin, expressing her excitement at being in Brighton “with such cool people.” She wants to talk to us about her new book, Vagina: A New Biography, warning us: “I’m still getting used to talking about such personal things in public. So if I blush or take my time, bear with me!”
That’s the problem with Vagina: it’s just a little too intimate, a little too personal, and, going by the reaction of many feminists to the book, not political enough. Unlike many of her younger contemporaries, Wolf has not learnt an important lesson from the history of the movement: extrapolating the ‘female experience’ from one white, able-bodied, heterosexual, wealthy woman is an exercise in political blindness. The first section of her book (and most of her talk on Friday night) boils down to this: her orgasms are pretty good. For a while they weren’t so good any more, and her doctor discovered her pelvic nerve was being compressed by her spine. Now she’s all better, and after reading up on neuroscience, she wants to tell us all about the profound ‘brain-vagina connection’ that makes the vagina the ‘centre of the self.’ Wolf is a firm believer that really great orgasms are essential to women’s emancipation, because dopamine, a neurochemical involved with reward, is a “feminist chemical” produced during orgasm.
Unfortunately, the neuroscience Wolf enthuses about may not be as conclusive as she believes, as this collation of neuroscientists’ responses to her talk demonstrates. Wolf is not an expert, and neuroscientists are eager to point out the dangers of making linear cause and effect relationships between a neurochemical and a specific emotion (like ‘dopamine produces assertiveness’). Quite apart from that, Wolf’s argument hinges on the reader accepting phrases like ‘the feminine soul,’ ‘the Goddess array,’ and ‘the Universal and Divine Feminine,’ language which is interspersed throughout the book but which she pointedly avoided during her talk in Brighton, saying “I guess words like that sound odd to British ears.”
Not just British ears; I think the French would have something to say about that too. Simone de Beauvoir famously explored in The Second Sex the way that the myth of the ‘eternal feminine’ serves to undermine and subjugate women, who are portrayed in a male-dominated world as ‘Other,’ strange and exciting, exotic creatures with complex sexual desires and unfathomable motivations. Vagina is ostensibly an attempt to de-mystify women’s bodies and their sexual lives, but serves only to play into the patriarchal constructs Beauvoir identified decades ago.
As well as this explicit language, Wolf also tends to display her attitude in the adjectives she uses to describe the female – ‘lovely’ comes up far too often, as does ‘magical,’ and although ‘delicious’ only appeared once it did make me hiccup in shock – in stark comparison to her descriptions of the male orgasm, which is ‘linear,’ their wiring ‘simpler’ and ‘grid-like.’ How convenient that our nervous systems so cosily match social gender stereotyping.
The anti-feminist implications of the way Wolf has expanded her own relationship with sex to encompass half of the human population should be obvious to anyone. If the vagina is at the heart of the universal female experience, then trans women will never achieve true womanhood. Neither will asexual or celibate women. Nor women who find sex painful, unenjoyable, or simply not very important. Lesbian, bisexual and queer women were not mentioned once. In so many ways, Wolf’s enormous privilege shone through not only as a heterosexual, cis woman, but in other ways too, like when she enthused about her New York apartment (which has a doorman), her education (Yale was name-dropped as her alma mater) and her gynaecologist (who happens to be a world expert on pelvic nerve disorders). Laurie Penny’s snark that the main message of Vagina is that “private doctors are wonderful if you can afford them” seemed rather apposite.
I wanted to like Naomi Wolf, because she was so eager to engage and share with the women in the audience. It is, however, hard to admire any self-proclaimed feminist who theorises in such essentialist terms, and who seems determined to ignore marginalised women who may need her help more than the largely white, middle-class audience at the Brighton Dome.
This article was originally published on The Yorker.
No one I have ever met had great sex education. I, for one, was given the ubiquitous condom-on-a-banana lesson from a teacher sporting glow-in-the-dark penis earrings. The lesson culminated in a mysterious box, which had been passed roughly around the class, opening to reveal an ominously broken egg. “That’s like your virginity,” the teacher announced. “Once it’s broken, you can’t put it back together again.”
So, having been subjected to sex education based loosely on the fable of Humpty Dumpty, I am totally supportive of efforts to improve the lessons young adults and teenagers are being given on sex and relationships. Sadly, a regressive bill recently proposed by Nadine Dorries MP managed to gain 67 votes to 61, suggesting that Parliament’s views about how to encourage safe and healthy sex amongst teens is retreating a few decades.
The bill proposes that “girls” aged 13-16 must be given “additional sex education [that] must include information and advice on the benefits of abstinence from sexual activity”. Seemingly innocuous, yes? But there are several problems with Dorries’ stance. First of all, giving girls this advice and not their male counterparts expresses a very clear attitude to whose responsibility it is to have safe sex. Yes, girls are the ones who might end up getting pregnant from unprotected sex, but that shouldn’t mean that they are the ones who will, or ought to, care more about the decision to abstain. Contrary to Dorries’ opinion that this will “empower” young girls, the gendering of this issue will create further disparity between the ‘acceptable’ sexual behaviour of men and women. Imagine the kids comparing notes: the girls have been told to just say no, whilst the boys were handed the banana.
The abstinence route is not a sure-fire way of reducing teenage pregnancy (America has the highest rate in the Western world). We’ve known this for a while. However, abstinence in itself is certainly a choice which should not be stigmatised, and young people of either gender should feel supported in such a decision, by their partner, friend or teacher. Dorries, however, has a far too narrow view of young people’s choices: “Society is focused on sex. Teaching a child at the age of seven to apply a condom on a banana is almost saying: now go and try this for yourself.” So she would rather say: “don’t have sex” and leave it at that?
There is a problem in viewing things the way Dorries does. Yes, showing kids how to wear condoms presents them with one idea of sex and sexuality; pornographic images and sexualised media presents them with a different one. It is not enough to deny them all contact with sex and the issues around it; rather, we should be focusing on the positives and showing them that sex can be fun, safe, loving, exhilarating, and utlimately a experience to embark on when (or if) they feel ready. And, most importantly, your gender affects none of this, despite what Dorries might say.
This article was originally published on Shrillblog.
As part of their ‘people who made the headlines’ feature, the BBC listed a panda called Sweetie in its female list.
You’d have to be a humourless, militant feminist to find that insulting, right?
Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s not just about the panda. Let me explain.
When you split anything – a list of newsworthy people, the education system, boxing outfits – by gender, you better make sure it doesn’t enforce insidious beliefs about gender. Such as, I don’t know, that newsworthy men are politicians, soldiers and shooting victims, whereas newsworthy women are rape accusers, brides and cute, fluffy animals.
The BBC, an editor was anxious to comment, wasn’t making a judgment about which men and women had made the most worthy achievements that year. Just who had ‘made the headlines’. So let’s make something clear – the BBC lists reflect our country’s appetite for new stories, and an incredibly disheartening view of what we expect from men and women who make our headlines.
The breakdown – Faces of the year – men
- An undercover cop
- An award-winning actor
- A binman who scored a YouTube hit with a rap video criticising the Health Secretary
- A Catholic policeman killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland
- A Vice-Admiral who masterminded the Bin Laden raid
- A successful golfer
- A former features editor at News of the World
- A guy who got mugged during the riots
- A farmer who told Rhianna to stop cavorting semi-naked in his field
- A man who had a suspiciously close relationship with the Defence Secretary
- A famous football manager
- A Republican candidate who had to pull out after sexual assault allegations
What this tells us
Headline-worthy men, according to this list, aren’t simply successful actors or sportspeople. They are also Masculine Men™, doing Masculine Jobs (policemen, sportsmen, armed forces, political candidate) and often brushing with violence (getting killed, ordering other people to kill, getting mugged).
Since men are many times more likely than women to do the most dangerous jobs, it might seem logical to see these trends in the media. But if we are more likely to see men getting attacked, attacking others, and heading gung-ho undercover operations in the headlines than women, no wonder rigid expectations of masculinity endemic in our culture. If you aren’t successful, unafraid of violence, or a martyr to violence, you aren’t a real man. You’re certainly not going to make the headlines.
Faces of the year – women
- A US Congresswoman shot in the head
- A successful pop singer
- A Libyan woman allegedly raped by Gaddafi’s militia
- A maid-of-honour at a royal wedding with a now-famous posterior
- Another woman allegedly raped, this time by a high-profile Frenchamn
- The first Chinese player to win a tennis Grand Slam singles
- A woman who married a prince
- A Rupublican Congresswoman beloved of the Tea Party
- Brazil’s President, the first woman to open a debate at the UN National Assembly
- Another woman marrying someone
- A US Marine who went on a date with Justin Timberlake
- The Infamous Panda
What this tells us
At first, it’s not so bad. Two congresswomen, a successful tennis player, a ground-breaking speech by a female president…2011 was a good year for women!
There are 3 brides/bridesmaids in this list. There are 2 (alleged) rape victims. There’s a woman who bagged a date with a famous guy. That makes exactly half of this list focussed on women’s relationships with men, only some of which were consensual.
And there’s the panda. Yes, a carp was once featured in the men’s list, so well done human race, you’ve achieved gender equality (disclaimer: this post contains sarcasm). Did no one at the BBC notice the cringe-worthy fact that the whole story surrounding Tian Tian the panda was her ability to breed? Which is truly the sparkling cherry on top of this hateful cake.
So, it’s not just about the panda, people. Allow the Feminist Rage to flow. And if any of you utter the sentence “why are you so angry at this when people are starving?!” I will unleash my Kung-Fu Panda moves (once I’ve finished breeding.)
This article was originally published at The Yorker.
On Thursday, 8th March, women and men will be standing on Library Bridge, windswept but smiling. They’ll be holding a large banner covered in messages of solidarity, hope and thanks for the slowly improving rights of women across the world as part of the ‘Join Me on the Bridge’ campaign.
International Women’s Day was founded in 1911, to celebrate the achievements women’s rights campaigners, and to look forward to future triumphs. In 2010, women from the neighbouring countries of Rwanda and Congo joined one another on the bridge connecting their lands to oppose violence against women; every year since, women globally have emulated this move, meeting one another to express solidarity with women in war-torn countries who are demanding peace and equality.
Feminists in the west are often confronted with the challenge of looking beyond their borders, and finding ways to combine local activism – which may only benefit relatively privileged women – with activism on a global scale. It can be a daunting prospect. How do we, women and men being educated at a prestigious British university, use our knowledge and freedom to help oppressed women across the globe without imposing our own values and cultures on campaigners trying to gain equality on their own terms?
We can begin by listening to them. To the women in Saudi Arabia, defying the law to prove they are unafraid to claim their equal place with men. To the women in Sierra Leone, educating one another in the harms of Female Genital Mutilation. To the women in DR Congo, used as agricultural labour by the men who own the rural community’s income. To the millions of Afghan girls enrolling in school, when ten years ago there were only a few thousand. To the women in so many countries, doing back-breaking labour alongside men, then looking after the children alone – because that’s ‘women’s work.’
To ensure everyone listens, we have to remind the media, the government and our educators that these voices are out there. As futile as signing a petition, writing a letter to your MP, or introducing a speaker to a local school might feel, never underestimate the importance of awareness-raising. Without that, people with the resources to help and make large, deeply influential changes might remain deaf to the voices that often get missed; to miss women’s voices is a grave mistake.
When we finally listen, we discover something important. Although International Women’s Day is a chance for many of us to step back and remember that there is a global movement towards gender equality, it is also important to remember that women are not a homogenous group. Issues of suffrage, reproductive rights and education (to take only three examples) may be almost universal problems for women, but the solutions to these inequalities may differ from country to country, or culture to culture. As vital as it is that women attain the rights they deserve, it is imperative for western feminists to avoid falling into cultural imperialism and dictating the direction of indigenous feminist movements. From speaking to feminist activists outside of the UK, I’ve learnt that western feminism, with its sexual liberation and pro-choice politics has a bad reputation in many countries, particularly religious states, where even women’s groups shun association with it. That has to be OK with us. Our way of doing feminism isn’t the only way.
If you come and join us on the bridge this Thursday, we can make the first step of showing that we are listening, and that we want to learn. From there, it’s all down to you – what can you do for women this International Women’s Day?