Trigger warning: sexual harassment and sexual assault.
There was no particular event precipitating this post. But here is one example of a reality-check media report which made me sad, angry and ultimately motivated to write it:
“IN UNDER A FORTNIGHT, SEVEN WOMEN HAVE DIED AT THE HANDS OF PEOPLE KNOWN TO THEM” 4thOctober 2019, SBS.
I am sick and tired of hearing these stories, everywhere. At my work, in my life, on the news and social media. We need to do something about it.
Shame is a powerful tool our society uses to silence women. We are told in many ways it is our fault for being harassed or assaulted. If you need this explained, take a couple of classics; Why was she walking around alone at night? (i.e. she should have been more careful, it’s not the man’s responsibility not to rape her) and Why was she wearing those clothes? (i.e. she should have dressed more modestly, it’s not the man’s responsibility not to harass her).
Today I’m refusing to buy into this crap, and I am speaking up about experiences that happened to me. I hope this will help someone to speak up against patriarchy and ultimately, make our society a safer, better place.
One of my first experiences of being sexually harassed was at the age of 14. My parents’ home was opposite a small community medical clinic. One day I walked towards the clinic with my crutches. A taxi was parked in the driveway, where the entry was. I walked around the taxi to get into the clinic when I saw a young man watching me, too closely. Hurrying into the clinic, I hoped he’ll be gone by the time I come out. The clinic was very quiet and I was the only patient around. The man and his taxi were still there when I walked out, he was now standing right next to the entry door. With no one else around, in the middle of the dead-silent street, he started making comments. Inappropriate comments. He asked how old I was and then commented that I looked much older, while obviously scanning my body with his gaze. There was no one out there and no one within hearing range, and I felt extremely vulnerable and scared. I knew he was stronger than me, I couldn’t even physically run away from him. He continued to ask if I had sex before. I don’t remember my reply, but I do remember walking away as fast as I could with my crutches, praying he wouldn’t follow me or grab me. I was too scared to go home for the potential of him following. The nearest shop was about an impossible kilometer away up the hill, so I couldn’t walk anywhere to be seen. I walked away, looking back every few seconds. He was watching for a while, and I took my racing heart towards the neighbour’s house to divert him. Finally, the taxi drove away, and I went home.
About four years later, at the age of 18, I was sexually assaulted during preparation for a court case about my disability. As a part of this lawsuit, I had to be examined by a doctor appointed by the defense. Young, disabled and female, I had to go through the examination without any companions present, due to an obviously-male-invented rule made by the court. I worried about being examined this way and protested, to no avail. Alone in his clinic, the doctor examined much more than he needed to. He ordered for me to take my pants off (actually standard in examining my leg condition) and then touched my body in places he didn’t need to, in order to write his report about the severity of my disability. I froze and tried to zone out to manage the fear. He also touched my upper body, in case you had doubts about his thoroughness, despite the fact that my condition has absolutely no impact on my breast tissue. I walked out, shocked.
You’re probably wondering if I told anyone. I did tell somebody, both times. I told somebody and nothing happened to the perpetrators. It will be an understatement to say I barely got any sympathy. After the doctor assaulted me, I was actively encouraged to “forget about it”. I wasn’t offered any emotional support to handle this trauma. I was left feeling ashamed to the bone, and rarely thought or spoke about these incidents since. Of course, I didn’t see a point to even bring it up when I was subsequently harassed by less powerful or influential people.
What I’ve learned from these experiences is that it doesn’t matter. That I should deal with it, because being harassed and assaulted is a part of being a female, especially a disabled one.
So why did I write this very-unpleasant-to read snapshot of these experiences? Because today I know better than buy into the shaming. It was not my fault and I am not the one who should be ashamed to talk about it. These men should be very ashamed and take responsibility for their misogynistic behaviour. Men do not deserve to silence me, or any other woman. I was recently inspired by Clementine Ford’s words “Men do not deserve protection from their own choice to abuse women”. This is my choice. And I want these men, and every other perpetrator out there, to know that we will not be silenced.
Importantly, I wrote this because I want every child and young person to feel safe and to know that they should speak up if they are not safe. There is always something to do about it. If you told someone and nothing happened, tell someone else. If I knew I could or should tell someone else about my fears, concerns or traumas, I’d be much better off. Responsible adults should take accounts like these very seriously and realize- if someone told you they are feeling unsafe or have been harassed or assaulted, you are responsible for doing something about it. It is your job as a parent, teacher, member of the community, to protect our vulnerable ones. Unfortunately, we know that children with disabilities are even more vulnerable to being a target.
If you are struggling with something you experienced, or with a story someone told you, reach out for help.
L. K. Bridgford
P.S. If any of this is painful to read, then you should do something about it. For ideas, read my previous post about patriarchy.