TW: discussions of sexual harassment, rape, sexual assault.
This week I’ve been boarding more trains than usual, and have therefore had more time to sit and think than usual. I’ve been living in London for the week, and whilst it has nothing to do with London specifically, living, walking and travelling alone has drawn my thoughts more towards Sarah Everard. It’s on this reflection that the warnings I’ve been told growing up, to be safe after dark, to not walk alone in quiet streets, and that I’m safer in a bigger group, have been ringing in my ears.
I can, unfortunately, only cover a tiny perspective: a cis, straight woman’s. I can’t pretend to relate to anyone else’s, it wouldn’t be right, but if you want to share your voice, please, please do. Every time this is discussed, it breaks down the stigma a little more.
A lot of things have stayed the exact same since Sarah’s death. One thing that I have noticed changing is that of women’s awareness. I’ve noticed it in myself. I used to almost feel flattered when someone whistled at me, or catcalled me in the street. I ignored the scared feeling and thought ‘maybe they think I’m pretty’. I’ve ignored the fact it happened more when I was in school uniform; I ignored that sinking feeling and panic of making sure other people around, that nothing more will happen.
Five months on from Sarah’s death, I remain terrified to walk alone after dark, even at home in a small village. Five months on, I get yelled, catcalled and whistled at whilst I’m walking down the street. Five months on, I feel uncomfortable at least once every time I leave the house, as someone ogles at me, or someone yells across the street at me. I’ve been with friends, my parents, my older sister who has a 2-year-old son, and alone. Not even having an innocent toddler with us stopped them from yelling sexually explicit content. Just because I’m with someone, doesn’t make it less threatening. Just because I’m alone and no one else sees it, doesn’t make it okay. I’m not saying this is the same extreme as that of Sarah’s tragedy, to me, it’s not, but it’s rooted in the same actions, the same consequent fears.
It is not “all men”. We know that. But all women have been told to go home before it is dark; all women have been told to not go anywhere without another person present; all women have been told to walk the long way to safety. Therefore, unfortunately, “all men” are perceived as a threat.
The other day, I was walking to my work experience. I was hollered at from a car going down the main road. Before you think anything, I was in a knee length skirt, with black tights, long-sleeved shirt, and blazer. I was WALKING on the pavement towards the town centre at 8am: a normal, busy time of day. So no, I did absolutely nothing ‘wrong’. Because what happens when something awful happens? It’s still only considered a tragedy after blaming the victim.
The clothes someone wears, the route they took, the words they used aren’t the actions which lead to assault. The actions which lead to assault are of those who harass that woman, who sexually assault or rape her. I’ve always been told that our world is mainly made up of good people. If that’s so, why are women still living afraid? Why are those making women feel this way overwhelming the majority? It’s not just about the actual incidents: why are we still condemning women to speak out about what’s happened by blaming her, rather than her attacker? Good people don’t blame the innocent. Good people don’t adopt the stances of the attackers.
The Office for National Statistics reported that from March 2019 to March 2020, 750,000 adults encountered a situation amounting to sexual assault. Out of these, over 600,000 victims were women. UN Women UK posted the figure which gained so much press in the media: 97%. 97% of women will experience sexual assault. So, next time you hear a comment harassing a woman, joking about sexual assault or rape, or yelling at her across a public space, remember: 97% of your female family members, friends, future daughters will receive this same assault. I bet it doesn’t seem so much of a ‘them’ issue now. It’s very much an ‘everyone’ issue, no matter what gender, race, or sexuality you are.
This isn’t a blog to gain sympathy – literally every single woman has had this before, it’s definitely not a new experience, and I’m sure most of you will relate. It’s just a moment that I noticed my views were changing, and what I thought was wrong and right have definitely been affected by the past 5 months. So, share this with your friends of every gender, race, and sexuality. It’s not a one proportion of the population’s battle – it’s everyone’s.
Five months on, we are still terrified. Five months on, when we say we are scared no one listens. Five months on, when we say something happened we are blamed. Five months on, when we protest we are ignored. Five months on, we’re still living in a dystopian world.
---- Mary Collingridge, Women’s Officer
