Not all men harass women, but all women have been harassed by men.

CN discussions of sexual violence, including rape, sexual harassment & assault

I really, really love dancing. I am incredibly self-conscious and need a good few drinks before I’ll do it, but when I do, I love it. Especially to music from my childhood or adolescence, in a sticky club with my best friends, dancing until my knees are killing me. I have so many good memories of last minute Friday nights out while I was at university, with good music and dancing for hours. It was one of the only ways I was able to relax or reward myself during my final year, where the stress of finals and degree classifications and my ongoing health problems felt like they could kill me.

I don’t go out dancing very much any more. I realised today that the last time I’d properly gone out has been months ago, at least. I don’t remember when it was. There’s a number of reasons for this — London is extortionately expensive, getting home is a pain, I’m skint and tired and can’t travel very much. But the main reason I don’t really go out dancing any more is because of men.

If you ask any woman or person who is read as a woman in their 20s, they will tell you about the times they were told as a teenager that sexual harassment was a normal part of an evening out, especially a night in a club. Expect to be groped, felt up, kissed, touched without your consent. It just happens. It happens to all of us. Why are you making a big deal? You were really drunk, anyway. Get used to it.

Everyone is told this, because every person has had the experience of a man touching them in some way without their consent on a night out with their friends. Not all men harass women, but every woman has been harassed by a man.

A few nights ago I was out in a city I don’t live in with a relatively big group of people, all of whom would be read as women. As we’d arrived early in the night, we’d managed to secure an area for ourselves where we could sit down and had our own space to dance, alone, without the usual club crowds. It was going wonderfully. 

And then a middle aged man came over to us and said, “alright, ladies?” or something to that effect. I asked him to please leave us alone, that we didn’t want to talk to him. At this, he became affronted. He insisted on staying with us, because it was a free country and he had the right to stand where he wanted, apparently. It didn’t matter that I had pleaded with him to please, please just let us be. It didn’t matter because he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he was so angry that a woman he did not know did not accept his perceived entitlement to a conversation with us, to sharing a physical space with us. We told him no, and he did not accept our unacceptance of his advance. He stood leaning at the bar, looking my friends up and down as they danced, who were unaware of his glances; his eyes lingering on the curve of their calves, the dress tied at their waist, the plunge of their neckline. It made me feel sick and I wanted to cry. 

At this point, I ended up asking a staff member who had been going to and fro from the area we were in to the bar with empty glasses, to ask him to leave. The staff member got security, which is not something I would’ve chosen to do given my own bad experiences with security staff members in clubs. They’re the ones who didn’t believe me when I was in tears telling them I’d just been groped or assaulted by a man, and they’re the ones who then threw me out of their club because I was drunk and crying and I was the one to blame. Oddly, the security staff were good. I could count on one hand the number of times this has happened. But I know they were only good because I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t slurring my words, I was sober and alert and articulate and purposefully did not let the less sober members of our group talk to them, because I knew they wouldn’t take us seriously. Which is bullshit. I played their game, because without doing so, we would’ve been thrown out. 

It was exhausting. I hadn’t been in a club for months. And this was why. Of all the things to happen on a night out, spending too much money, talking to groups of women you don’t know in the bathroom and being harassed or assaulted by a man are almost all of the guaranteed ingredients, no matter where you are. 

In my first year of university, like many others, I went out a lot. And so I was sexually harassed or assaulted at least once a week, often more. I became so angry, all of the time. I had so much rage inside of me, because men thought they could touch me when I didn’t want them to, and no one thought anything of it. I started hitting back, literally and figuratively. I remember an incident in a club in Belfast, where a man I didn’t know pinned me against a wall and kissed me furiously, one hand on my cheek and one grabbing my waist. I struggled to get free, and when I did, I punched him. And then I was promptly thrown out. At one point, I was boycotting a well known club and bar because they threw me out after I reported that I’d been felt up — they told me I was on drugs and I was causing problems. I remember months later my best friend texting me drunkenly, telling me she was sorry that she was going to the bar because the work party she was out with wanted to, and she felt so guilty about it. She was the only friend to even acknowledge and legitimise the pain and anger i felt towards the club and its staff. Everyone else ignored it as another thing that crazy Aisling was doing because she’s a crazy feminist. 

I harboured so much rage and anger in my body that year, and together with a cocktail of then-undiagnosed mental health problems, it ruined my time in university. When I am back in Belfast, my main memories stem around where and when I was assaulted, at which time, and what I was wearing. I know I am not alone in this, because this happens to most women at some point during their life. Learning this, learning about the politics of structural oppression and patriarchy and feminism helped — I had a framework in which to place my experiences and the thoughts I had. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t any of our faults, even though we all felt like it was. 

What I didn’t realise or expect was the long-lasting effect these years have had on me. Granted, I’m still young. I’m only 23. But a lot has happened, a lot has changed and I have grown hugely since the age of 19. My life is very different now, and I feel older than my years. What I didn’t expect were the flashbacks and dreams that periodically dominate my life these days. I didn’t expect that I would stop wearing certain things, especially heels. I didn’t expect that I’d drastically change my hairstyle, partially in an effort to look less conventionally attractive to men. I didn’t expect that a few words from a middle-aged man in a nightclub in Edinburgh would send me over the edge, anxious, awake and crying till 4.30am, reliving the past experiences I’d had and ending up taking a valium in an attempt to quiet the images and the taunts swirling around my head. I didn’t expect to ever identify with the term ‘survivor’. But here I am. 

Being worn down by sexism.

I am worn down by sexism. I am worn down by the word sexism. I am worn down by the thought of sexism. I am worn down and try not to think about it, because I find it so draining.

Last week I attended an event run by the Centre for Feminist Research in Goldsmiths. The centre is run by my tutor, Sara Ahmed, and runs events in Goldsmiths throughout the year. This event was on sexism, and the speakers all focused on sexism in higher education.

The first speaker talked about a 'bloody document' she has carried with her for 30 years. As a young graduate student, she wrote an essay and her professor covered it in red ink, 'correcting' her 'mistakes'. When I saw each slide, my jaw dropped. I imagine jaws dropped across the room. She is now a professor and head of a department at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. Her old professor is still teaching. She has kept this essay for 30 years. 

Here is the paper she wrote.

I thought,

This feels strange, but I can't think of a time where I faced institutional sexism while at this university.

I thought,

I've never had a lecturer or professor treat me the way this speaker was treated.

I thought,

Maybe it's because in Goldsmiths, I've only been taught by women. And mostly black women. My course classes are very different to what they used to be. There's occasionally one or two men in the classroom. 

I thought,

Queen's wasn't like that. In Queen's I was often the only woman in my class. I was taught almost entirely by white men. I was surrounded by men. I became a feminist killjoy. I was angry, all of the time.

But I still can't think of a time where my tutors or professors sexually harassed me. That feels strange.

But then I thought,

Hang on. 

I have spent a lot of time arguing with Goldsmiths as an institution about being disabled. 

I thought,

I spend a not inconsiderable amount of my time explaining to other students how to navigate disability bureaucracy. 

I thought,

I sat with my friend and the staff member who approves assignment deferrals, as she sat in tears, shaking with anxiety, and he visibly did not care. He did not offer a tissue. There was no empathy in his voice. My friend and I left the meeting and she cried for a while. She was shaking with the ferocity of her sobs. I was furious. I wanted to complain. I was so angry at how she had been treated by a staff member who was responsible for supporting disabled and unwell students. 

I have sat opposite men members of staff who have rolled their eyes at the hysterical angry woman in front of them.

I have sat in the disability room in the library while a male staff member stood over me, making me explain why I was in the room. Why I was allowed to be in the room. In front of a room full of students I didn't know. Afterwards, the shame burned my face and I felt like a child. 

I thought,

This is sexism repackaged and combined with disablism, entwined with racial and class dynamics in the case of my friend's experience. 

After the event, there was a wine reception and I talked with a few of my classmates. I talked about how lucky I felt to have had such incredible teachers during my time here. 

A classmate has taken an elective module with another department, and has had a tough time. She is taught by a man who, within the first two classes, she knew she couldn't stand. She knew it was going to be difficult to get through this term, being taught by him. 

We talked about the way that sexism has worn us down to the point where we think we do not encounter it. 

When we encounter sexism in class, from male classmates, we are exhausted before we put up our hand to tell a man why what he has just done was incredibly sexist. We feel the weight of the response our response will get. And we decide in that moment whether or not we have the energy to respond to the response our responding to sexism will receive. And more often than not, we decide the effort is too great, and we don't put our hand up. 

Calling in and calling out.

This post is inspired by conversations I've been having recently with people, mostly offline, on how we feel people should respond to criticism, critique, and call outs, particularly in relation to privilege. It's a conversation I've been having so often I thought I should properly write about it.

When I first got involved in liberation activism, I had no idea what privilege was. I didn't have a very good understanding of the structural inequalities that exist in the world, even though I thought I did. I had experienced sexism, misogyny, ableism, queerphobia - but probably wouldn't have been able to name those experiences as being part of a wider structural issue. I looked at those experiences as a series of one offs.

The first time I was called out - for using stigmatising language in relation to mental health - I was appalled. I was disgusted. I was beside myself that I, someone with mental health problems, could ever possibly misuse words that can be seen as derogatory. The person who called me out did it - in a way I would now say - incredibly politely. They sent me a short email, off the email list, explaining that the language I used was problematic for A, B & C reasons, and were perfectly pleasant. And I still felt like I'd been wronged the biggest wrong to ever happen in the existence of the world.

Fast forward five years. I have wised up. I have changed a lot, my politics have developed, and I've grown up. I'm not 18 years old anymore. I still slip up, I am still called out on things, and I am still trying to grow and develop my politics around liberation in particular and I know I will continue to slip up and will need to keep reflecting on my behaviour and actions as I get older. And the way I look at call ins and call outs is radically different.

It is quite a human reaction to be upset or anxious or panicked (especially if you suffer with mental health problems around anxiety) when someone calls you out, no matter how respectfully or politely they do it (and they're under no obligation to be polite or respectful about it). You worry about who you've upset, and how you've upset them, and what the affect of whatever you've done/said has been. 

But, if you too believe that being called up on your privilege is a very useful and helpful process during which you are able to learn about an aspect of something you overlooked, or hadn't considered, then you must continually remind yourself that you want to be called out. You want to be a better ally to marginalised groups you do not define into. And that means listening whenever someone calls you up on your shit, and acknowledging that in all likelihood they are coming from a place or experience that you may not know as much about.

No matter how emotional your reaction, or how poor your mental health, the person who is giving you their time and labour to call you out should not have to calm you down, or console you, or reassure you that they understand you didn't mean to do whatever you did. 

They have no obligation to be polite when calling you out. In all likelihood they have a reason to be angry, and that reason is legitimate. They should not have to bear the responsibility of dealing with your emotional reaction. It's not up to them. They're doing you a massive favour by calling you out - recognise this. Recognise that you are incredibly lucky to have someone take time out of their day to tell you that you fucked up. You are not the injured party here, even if your initial reaction is to be upset.

It is important to develop coping mechanisms for immediate emotional reactions to call outs. When my anxiety is particularly bad, a message from someone telling me I've done something shit and oppressive can make me have a panic attack. And I have begun to accumulate skills to deal with this, including (but not limited to) breathing exercises, reminding myself that this is something I value and appreciate immensely when people take the time out to do it, reminding myself of how I wish people would respond when I call someone out on something, and as someone who can slip into black and white thinking and catastrophising quite easily, reminding myself that the world is not over because I fucked up.

To take an example - I am middle class. I have a financial safety net, I have parents I can borrow money from if I needed to. I did not grow up being shamed for getting free school meals, my parents were able to afford to buy my school uniform brand new, we went on family holidays, we always had food in the fridge. I am skint, but I am not poor. I am not working class. 

And so when someone who comes from a working class background decides to take time out of their day to tell me that I fucked up - I said something shitty (e.g. 'Omg, I'm so poor, this is so shit, you all have no idea how poor I am right now'); I didn't consider an aspect of something (e.g. 'We should totally all go to this event/club/bar/dinner/restaurant! Are you coming? Why aren't you coming?', forgetting that not everyone has disposable income and can afford to spend a fiver on a pint); or I behaved in an oppressive way - I need to sit down and listen. I need to consider my behaviour, and reflect on what I did. I need to appreciate that this person was willing to call me out on my behaviour, and recognise the fact that they may have an incredibly different life experience on this issue than I do, because I come from a privileged position. 

I see 'calling in' as something that people with privilege should do to other people with privilege - it's my job as someone who is white to educate other white people about racism and the impact and effect of white supremacy. I should 'call in' the fact that they may have done or said something racist. I am responsible for educating other white people to look inwards at our experiences of whiteness, how our whiteness is reflected everywhere in society, how we benefit from a system built on white supremacy and racism. I am also responsible for constantly reflecting on my own white privilege, looking inwards at my own experiences and questioning why they are the way they are.

I see 'calling out' as something that marginalised people have a right to do to people with privilege. As previously mentioned, I believe marginalised people are under no obligation to be polite with their call outs - if you're calling someone out on their oppressive behaviour it can be a very upsetting, frustrating and angering thing that they have done, and you are under no obligation to be kind about it. 

Here is a post about being a better ally in general, here is one about being a better ally to people of colour and here is one about being a better ally to disabled people. If anyone has any articles about being an ally they would recommend, please let me know and I'll include them in here.

USI Congress 2013.

Last week I went to Ballinasloe for USI Congress 2013 as part of the QUBSU delegation. We were all student councillors, elected at the start of the year. We weren't elected separately as delegates for the Congress (there is never as much interest within QUBSU about attending USI in comparison to attending NUS-USI), but rather expressed our interest and as councillors were all allowed to attend. This is the first important thing to remember. We weren't elected. Our mandate came from our election as councillors, months ago, in October.

We were warned that we weren't allowed to 'break mandate' at USI- that is, vote on anything/in favour of anything that contradicted live union policy. This wasn't a decision taken by our student council, it wasn't a decision taken by the wider student body. It was taken by the EMC (composed of the seven sabbatical officers and a few of the staff in the union). It was in direct response to USI Congress 2012- a few delegates 'broke mandate' and voted on things that contradicted union policy. They didn't want this to happen again, so they introduced this rule. This rule isn't in our constitution, it isn't in the USI constitution. It was literally decided behind closed doors, without consulting the student council (who would probably have supported it, but that isn't the point). This is the second important thing to remember.

On the first day of Congress, I hadn't planned to speak- I never tend to plan these sorts of things. But a motion came up in the lapsing policy section of Congress, about continuing USI's pro-choice work. This was the motion:

09/WEL 2

ABORTION RIGHTS CAMPAIGN

Congress notes

That USI is mandated to lobby the government and other relevant bodies to develop greater access to abortion services for all women within the state (06/WEL 6 Abortion). 

Congress further notes 

That USI’s involvement in this debate in the past (SPUC vs. Grogan) led to the changing of legislation so that information about abortion could be distributed freely in the state. 

Congress recognises 

That in many student unions abroad and indeed in many organisations worldwide the issue of abortion is viewed as an issue of equality and women’s rights .

Congress further recognises 

That the issue is one of concern for Welfare Officers around the country. 

Congress is disappointed 

By the silence of USI on this issue for the past number of years. 

Congress acknowledges

The establishment of the Safe and Legal (in Ireland) Abortion Rights Campaign which aims to end the hypocrisy of exiling women in crisis pregnancy that choose to have an abortion. The campaign includes various strands, including a litigation strand, a public awareness strand and a national and international advocacy strand.

Congress mandates

The Welfare and Equality Officer to work with the Safe and Legal (in Ireland) Abortion Rights Campaign to once again make this issue a priority for Irish Women.

Congress further mandates 

The Welfare and Equality Officer to raise awareness of the Safe and Legal (in Ireland) Abortion Rights Campaign to USI members and to support the campaign in any of its actions.

(See http://usi.ie/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/usiCLAR-2013-a7-PRINT.pdf for a copy of the 2013 Congress documentation)

I spoke in favour of continuing to work on the issue- I believe it is one of paramount importance. I then voted in favour- it easily passed (though the 'Congress is disappointed' point was removed, as it is to the credit of USI that they have been at the forefront of campaigning for choice in Ireland over the last while). I was told our union President would be having a word with me later on- I'd 'broken mandate'.

Later on, I met the President (who brought the VP Campaigns with him). I was told that the EMC did not want to stop me participating, they did not want to stop me representing students, but if I broke mandate again by voting in favour of something that contradicted QUBSU live policy, I would no longer be a QUBSU delegate at USI Congress 2013. I was surprised, even though we'd be warned about the prospect of this happening. This is the QUBSU stance:

745.6 This Council repeals policy 3.1 on the Policy File.
This Council recognises that the issue of abortion is a highly divisive issue  and a matter for each individual’s conscience. Being desirous of a unified, inclusive Students’ Union this Council mandates to Students’ Union to adopt a position of neutrality in regards to abortion. This Council encourages students with an interest in issues surrounding abortion to express this through the available student societies and external organisations. This Council mandates the Students’ Union to provide a neutral venue for discussions and debates regarding abortion and to assist societies with an interest in the matter in a fair and equitable manner.
Proposer – Caoimhe McNeill
Seconder – Jessica Kirk 

(As an aside, I find it slightly ironic that they were threatening to throw me out for something that they claim is "a matter of each individual's conscience"...)

On the second day, I voted in favour of this motion:

09/WEL 11

CRISIS PREGNANCY AGENCIES

Congress notes 

That there is no legislation controlling crisis pregnancy agencies in Ireland. 

Congress notes with concern 

That as a result a number of rogue crisis pregnancy agencies have started up.

Congress recognizes 

That a rogue crisis pregnancy agency is one where the sole purpose of the agency is to prevent a pregnant woman from having 

an abortion. They misinform and intimidate women to achieve their aim, using methods such as harassment, bullying and been given blatantly false information. [Irish Family Planning Association (IFPA)]

Congress acknowledges 

The work done this year by Choice Ireland in campaigning against rogue crisis pregnancy agencies.

Congress mandates the Welfare Officer. 

To work with Choice Ireland, and other relevant agencies, to protest against these rogue crisis pregnancy agencies.

Congress further mandates the Welfare Officer

To lobby for the introduction of legislation in this area.

I do not believe that this was voting in opposition to a neutral position on abortion, I believe that this was voting in favour of telling the truth to pregnant women- something that, I would hope, people would agree on no matter what their opinion of abortion. Because the motion stipulated to "work with Choice Ireland", our President claimed it was not neutral and that we should abstain. I was told to leave the room once I'd voted in favour, I had my delegate card taken off me and was told I was no longer a QUBSU delegate at USI Congress 2013.

Once our President had told USI that I was no longer part of the QUBSU delegation, there was nothing USI could do- and I understand that, every union is autonomous within USI. He also would not make me an observer (we had a good few delegate/observer places left over- we never fill them). If I was an observer I would not have been able to vote- but I would have been able to enter the room, to listen. Instead, I spent three days in a hotel room, following the #USI13 feed on Twitter. If it hadn't been so far away, or the issue hadn't been so contentious, perhaps they would've tried to send me home- that's the usual protocol when someone is thrown out of a union delegation.

So what now? The support I received from other delegates was incredible, likewise, the support I received from people at home. I did not feel so alone- I knew I had done the right thing. There were two women delegates in our delegation out of eight. Many people find it absolutely ridiculous that the male dominated EMC decided to throw one out for speaking for her right to choose. That said, the week was isolating, lonely, and incredibly difficult. A few of my delegation did go out of their way to check I was alright, invite me over in the evenings, that sort of stuff- and I am very grateful for the support, particularly because it came from people who I have not exactly gotten along with in the past. I really did appreciate the effort that they made. Others ignored me for the remainder of the trip.

There are a number of issues here- firstly, regarding mandate. Were we there on the union's mandate? Or on our individual mandate? I believe the latter, the President believes the former. That is essentially the argument, and one that will be settled at our next meeting of QUBSU student council (if you want to come along, do- it's going to be interesting, to say the least).

However, there are a few other factors to consider- the conflict isn't simply on mandate. Neutrality on the issue of abortion (whilst I believe is a complete cop out, ignoring our duties as student representatives and students' union and putting our heads under the sand on the reality of the situation in Ireland), isn't as simple as just abstaining on every motion regarding abortion. The motion itself stipulates that the council now believes it is a matter of individual conscience and acknowledges the right for individual students to work with external organisations. Take from that what you will.. but I believe it gives individuals the right to express their opinions and vote accordingly at national conferences.

Another issue is that of 'mandates' as a whole. Students' unions sabbatical officers dislike when you criticise them, but hate when you criticise the validity of the structures that enabled them to get to where they are even more. Every time I tried to talk about the mandate issue, I was told by our President that the EMC was elected with a huge mandate, bigger than the council mandate- I agree the turn out was bigger than for the council elections. 4,124 students voted in the 2012 sabbatical elections. 4,124. There are 24,197 students at Queen's. That's a turn out of around 17% (I think- if I'm wrong, correct me! Working out percentages is not my strong point..). 17%... Anyone who thinks that this gives anyone the right to do anything in the name of 'all students', in the name of a 'huge mandate', needs a strong reality check.

There are a number of articles going round the internet about what happened at Congress- and there are some factual errors in them, unsurprisingly (that's not to say I don't appreciate the media coverage- I do!). Take this blog post as my account of what happened, even if it contradicts some of the things mentioned in the various articles.

Lastly, some asked me why I voted the way I did, when the motions would have passed with a comfortable majority regardless of my vote.

I voted because I am a woman, because I am a rational human being who believes in compassion for others. I voted because the laws governing my body in Northern Ireland date back to 1861. I voted because women in Ireland are told to be ashamed of making a decision regarding their reproductive health, because Savita Halappanavar's dying foetus was given more attention than she was. I voted because I know women who have had abortions, because each one of us know women who have had abortions. I voted because my reproductive health is not the business of anyone else. I voted because QUBSU women students need to know that even though their union has abandoned them, there is still support from within the student population. I voted because I am a feminist, because I believe in equality. I voted because the other QUBSU delegates decided to remain silent. I voted because it was the right thing to do. 

One thing I will not do is shut up.

In the last few days a number of people I know have deleted me from Facebook, or blocked me. In the grand scheme of things, they don't matter. They're not my friends. They're not even my acquaintances. So why am I writing this?

It's because I post a lot about things that are affecting women and students, because I post a lot about how I wish my students' union focused on the housing crisis rather than a stupid fucking talent show, because I post about things that we are all happy to live in blissful ignorance of.

GUESS WHAT? One in seven women will be victim of a serious sexual or physical assault whilst they're in university. I am not going to shut up. One thing I will never do is shut up. Maybe you haven't ever been a victim of sexual harassment, maybe you don't think institutional racism exists- but it happens. It happens and affects so many students and I am not prepared to sit back and ignore what is happening around me.

I am not against constructive criticism at all- I think national officers should be held to account. But this isn't like the infighting within the left- this is people who fundamentally disagree that these things are a problem, and for the life of me I am never going to sit down and be quiet just because you don't like what I'm hearing.

International Women's Day

Today is International Women's Day- for the next ten minutes, anyway. I'm just back from the AGM of the Labour Party in Northern Ireland, where I've just been elected to the Executive.

And the point of my post is this- sexism is alive and well within our politics, not that many people didn't know this anyway. LPNI are (possibly along with Sinn Fein- though I'm not 100% sure) one of the only parties in the north of Ireland that use gender quotas in its elections.

The gender quota tonight meant that a well deserving woman was elected to one of the positions in the Labour executive. And then we proceeded to have to have a discussion about why we needed gender quotas in the first place.

It was depressing. More than depressing. I spend half my job explaining to people why my job should exist and why women aren't equal in society today. It is exhausting. Exhausting. I spent a good few days this week at a wonderful NUS Women's Conference- I didn't want to come home.

I didn't want to come home to a place where I don't have control over my own body, where I'm trusted to take care of a child but not make a decision regarding my own reproductive health. I didn't want to come home to a place where I spend my time explaining to men students why they aren't allowed to come to women's conference. I didn't want to come home to a place where this fight is intensely lonely, terribly exhausting and very often feels like a battle too big for one person.

On international women's day remind yourself that your sisters, daughters, mothers, colleagues, students, friends, aren't equal in society today. And then step up and commit to helping change that.