Stalking isn't romance. It's violence.

In the Daily Mail today, the day that Leveson reports after hearing evidence from women’s groups about the terrible reporting of violence against women and girls in the mainstream media, there’s an article about a stalker who died whilst harassing his ex. 

Although, if you read the Daily Mail report, that might not be the story you hear.

Just to start – of course it is sad when anyone dies and I am not in any way saying otherwise. I am sorry for his family, who are obviously devastated. It’s for that reason that I won’t link to the article or name names here. 

But I have to take issue with the way the Mail approaches a story of harassment, intimidation and stalking, and turns it into a tragic tale of thwarted love. Particularly when this is the week stalking was finally made an actual criminal offence, and nearly a quarter of women experience stalking from the age of 16. 

Let’s start with the headline. 

‘”Gentle giant” who camped outside ex-girlfriend’s home in bid to win her back died following a heavy drinking session.’

Camping outside a woman’s house is not the action of a gentle man who wants to win back his lost love. It is the action of a stalker who wants to frighten and intimidate a woman. By calling him a ‘gentle giant’, even as a quote, the Mail is setting this guy up as someone we should feel sympathy for, someone who was just in love, and heartbroken. There is no mention of how scary it might have been for his ex, to wake up to find him outside her house, all the time, demanding her attention when she just wants to be left alone to live her life. 

Next:

‘[He] had inundated former partner [name redacted by me] with poems, letters, phone calls and text messages…When she refused to give in to his attempts to win her back, he began following her around and took to sleeping outside Ms Buchanans [sic] flat.’

This is stalking. This is harassment. Being inundated, bombarded with unwanted contact, being followed around – this is not romance. It’s a crime. And check out the victim blaming language too – the Mail says ‘she refused to give in’. As if somehow she should have just shrugged, and let him back in her life, that she was somehow selfish to not acquiesce to this harassment. After all, it’s just love, right? He’s just showing how much he loved her. 

The article goes on:

‘[he] was described as a “gentle giant” who was simply “trying to rekindle a lost love”’

‘One response sent by [his ex] a month before his death read: “I’m sorry but it’s over. Please let me get on with my life.”’

Stalkers, like all perpetrators, give themselves all sorts of excuse for their behaviour. They might be convinced that the victim of their crime loves them, and that they’re in a relationship. They may believe that she deserves it, or they may have the conviction that they are behaving romantically to bring a relationship back together. None of these reasons are true. There is nothing romantic, or mutual, or deserving about a campaign of harassment. It’s frightening and upsetting and it all too often leads to violence.

When I was a teenager I had some experience of harassment or stalking. It wasn’t a really serious case, but it happened. The victim was someone in my family and it involved phone calls at all hours. Nothing else, it wasn’t on the same scale as many cases. It was just phone calls, breathing down the phone, night and day. I remember how frightened I was. That someone had this power to scare us. I know what his so-called justification was, I won’t share it here. It was no justification at all. Not for the fear, and for the fact I have never, ever forgotten it. No justification for that whenever a story like this comes up, or a documentary about stalking is screened, or even, once, when some colleagues were cracking loads of jokes about stalking, I remember that fear. That fear comes back.

The Mail reports a statement made by the man’s family:

‘[he] never mean any harm to anyone.’

I’m sorry, but he did. Harassment is harm. I understand the family wants to believe otherwise. But following someone around, phoning and texting incessantly, camping outside someone’s house – this is harmful. It’s threatening. It’s a crime. 

The rest of the article is made up of quotes from his family. They talk about how he was devastated by the break-up, how he felt betrayed and ‘spiralled downhill to the point where he just sat outside her flat.’

No-where in the article, particularly in the sections written by the journalist, is there any sense that his behaviour was against the law. No-where in the article does the Mail give the reader a chance to see this isn’t a tragic romance, a gentle knight nobly trying to win the heart of a fair maiden. No-where do we hear a sympathetic voice for the woman victim who was harassed and intimidated. In Mail world, stalking isn’t a crime. It’s a campaign, a bid to win a woman back. No-where do we get a sense that the woman has autonomy, the right not to have to be with a man who she doesn’t want to be with, to accept the attentions of a man she no longer loves. 

In Mail world, harassment is a sign of love, and women who don’t accept it are selfish. 

One positive thing is that at least the commenters under the article recognised his actions as stalking. 

As I say, this week Leveson will report back on his inquiry. He was presented with evidence from women’s groups about media sexism, and how reporting of violence against women and girls is minimised. They talk about victim blaming, sympathy with the perpetrator and not acknowledging the crime. All of this is present in this article. We have a man who stalked and harassed his ex girlfriend. We have that man presented as a kind, gentle person who was in a bid to win back that ex. And we have a woman who is portrayed as someone who didn’t ‘give in to his attempts’, a refusal which, we are led to believe, resulted in his death. I say ‘led to believe’ because it is not her fault that he acted in this way, it is not her fault he camped out and harassed her and drank. It is not her fault, no matter how the journalist frames it. 

I hope that, amongst no doubt all the furore about regulation, there is something in Leveson that recognises the damaging sexism in media reporting of violence against women, and a plan is created to tackle it. 

Publication date set for Greta and Boris: a daring rescue

Hip hip hurrah!

My book, Greta and Boris: a daring rescue will be published on 29th March, 2013.

The book tells the tale of Greta, who must go on a magical mission to rescue her cat, Boris, Prince of Cats. Along with warrior cat, Kyrie, Greta must face the staircase of autumn leaves, cross Cloud-Top Land and the Milky Sea, rescue the Land of Mice from a devastating war and face the challenge of the terrifying Rat King.

In her review of the book, Bristol Women's Literature Festival chair, and all round amazing writer, broadcaster and woman Bidisha writes:

“Greta and Boris is touching, exciting, cheeky and vivid, with wonderful characters, a strong narrative and sudden delightful details. … Greta and Boris is billed as a children’s novel but is more of a tale or fable – a fast and picaresque vision quest in which a young hero finds her destiny and with it, of course, her inner strength, which she had all along. It’s a standalone work which ... is suitable for 7-9 year old readers and is structured in such a way that it can be read or acted out to younger kids too.”

The book is published by Our Street Books, an imprint of John Hunt, and will be available to buy on 29th March 2013

Blogging break

So, as some of you may know, I'm always trying to write more fiction. In fact, I HAVE A BOOK COMING OUT NEXT YEAR KLAXON. And I've had an idea for a novel, and half-written novel notes, percolating for some years now. So seeing as this month in Nanowrimo, I thought I'd give myself a kick up the ass and try to write it. Or, at least, one section of it. Not going to put myself under pressure to write the whole thing in a month. But going to commit to a month of writing it, if that makes sense?

So, no matter what feminist crisis raises its head in November, I might try and keep this month a blogging free zone.

See you on the other side gang.

Yes, i do look lush. No, you don't need to tell me.

On my way to work this morning, headphones in, umbrella up, this young man walked out of his house, looked at me and said ‘you look lush!’

He then fell into step with me, looking at me under my umbrella and said ‘are you deaf or something?’ He then laughed and said ‘you must be’, and walked along his merry way down the next street.

Throughout this interaction I was completely silent. I kept walking, looking straight ahead of me, hoping my headphones would lend credence to me not ‘being able to hear him’. My stomach was knotting, as I tried to assess how this one-way interaction would end. Then, as soon as he left, I felt guilty. Guilty for not acknowledging, for not thanking him for the compliment, for taking too seriously what he meant as something nice. And then I remembered that I have no reason to feel guilty, because there is no reason why I shouldn’t be able to walk down the street without a man commenting on what I look like, or my presence there. 

The thing is. I’m pretty sure that this guy genuinely wanted to pay me a compliment. He wasn’t being aggressive, or rude, he clearly did think I just looked nice (which, I must say, in my mini knitted dress and knee-high boots, I do!). But what he didn’t understand, what he didn’t know, is that as soon as a strange man starts shouting things at me on the street, I feel scared. 

I feel scared because since I was 15 I haven’t known whether that shout will be safe or not. Will it be someone just saying I look nice? Or will it be someone screaming that I’m a fucking bitch for ignoring them, or someone yelling that they’re going to follow me and rape me in the ass, or that I’m a cunt, or that I’m a bitch who needs to drop her knickers, or that I need to stop walking and give him a fucking blowie. I don’t know and so as soon as that voice is raised I can’t take the chance that it’s going to be a well-meaning compliment. 

He doesn’t know that, of course. Men don’t really get it. They don’t understand how quickly that compliment can turn to violence. They don’t see the context – they don’t have the echoes of every single shout or threat in their heads when that voice is raised on the street. They don’t see it because it rarely happens in front of them. And, of course, compliment or not, that man would never have said a word to me if I was walking with another man. 

I keep saying that I feel confident he was genuinely being nice, that he wasn’t trying to be rude and he certainly wasn’t trying to scare me. But the fact is, there really was no need for him to say anything to me this morning. 

I don’t know why some men think it’s so important to express their opinion on how I look as I walk down the street, or occupy public space (online, as another example). I don’t know whether they genuinely do think that it must be pretty great to be told you look nice by a total stranger (of course, the rest of the time I'm being told I'm ugly!) I think it might have something to do with the fact that society as a whole places a lot of value on women successfully fitting the male-defined beauty ideal, so, in their eyes, to be told I meet approval must be a good thing. But it doesn’t make me feel great. As I say before, any man shouting anything at me on the street instantly makes me feel nervous, and exposed, and triggered. And then, weirdly, guilty. For not fulfilling my feminine role of supporting a man’s ego. 

There’s something here too about the role women occupy in public space. Particularly a woman on her own. When men shout at me, even something seemingly nice and innocuous, I’m reminded that as a woman, I'm an object of the gaze. When women are out on the street, the gaz-ee to the male gazer. It’s a set-up where men have the right to comment, to make judgement. It’s about who has power over the space. There’s a difference in the violence of language, but there’s not really a difference as to why words are shouted at me in the first place. 

So, guys. If you see a lady walking down the street, and you think she’s looking pretty fitty mcfitson, you don’t need to tell her so. It might not make her day. It might remind her of the hundreds of times when hundreds of men have called her names, and made her feel small, and afraid, and like she has no right to walk on the streets alone. 

It’s not in-fighting to call each other out

Ok, so this is a post that’s been stewing in my head all day, and it’s probably going to be a bit garbled and confused because I’m basically throwing down those circulating thoughts after a long day at work, as my casserole cooks in the oven. But, here goes…

It feels like over the last couple of weeks there have been a lot of accusations flying around within the feminist movement about ‘in-fighting’. But in my experience, this accusation only flies around when someone has said something stupid, and then said person wants to make sure no-one blames her, and accuses critics of ‘in-fighting’. See the Elly Levenson article on the F Word as a case in point – we weren’t in-fighting, we were just questioning her statement that rape is just a penis.

This recent round began with a tweet Caitlin Moran said in response to a question as to why she didn’t ask the writer Lena Dunham’s lack of women of colour in her hit show ‘Girls’.  Moran tweeted that she couldn’t give a shit. Women who were angry with Moran’s tweet (which I was, although in general I don't have strong feelings about Caitlin Moran either way. Her book was funny.) called her up on her privilege. Defenders of Caitlin Moran accused her critics of in-fighting and said we should focus on the “big” issues such as fighting patriarchy – as if the marginalisation of black women’s voices isn’t one of the big issues and part of patriarchy.

I believe it's wrong to characterise this as ‘in-fighting’. Because calling out any woman for saying she doesn’t ‘give a shit’ about the representation (or lack thereof) of black women in popular culture is simply that – calling her out. It’s saying that one of the issues in feminism has been and still is a lack of intersectionality and the prioritising of white, cis, straight, non-disabled, middle class women’s voices and needs – both in the media and in the movement. And saying that this is a problem. And therefore it’s a problem when it’s ignored, or side-lined, or considered ‘not as important as, like, fighting patriarchy’ (again, as if patriarchy only effects the lives of white, cis, straight, non-disabled, middle class women? I don’t get it!). We need to be able to criticise each other without being accused of cattiness or bitchiness.

There seems to be a real anger or fear about being called out for having privilege. Which is quite concerning, in my opinion. Having privilege isn’t a fault. It’s only a bad thing if you refuse to recognise it, and that refusal leads to you being rude, or un-inclusive. But understanding we have privilege, and understanding intersectionality, is a really important aspect of moving the feminist movement forward. And it’s ok to be called out on it when you get it wrong. I saw a commenter on the Bim Adewunmi piece on the Girls row say that being called a racist was ‘almost as bad’ as being the victim of racism. That’s such bullshit. If you get called out for saying something offensive, then take responsibility and apologise and make sure you don’t make the same mistake. Listen! Don’t try and make out you’re the victim all of a sudden.

I’m a white, cis, non-disabled, middle-class (with working class roots) woman. I’ve got a helluva lot of privilege. In my time, that privilege has led me to say some stupid things and I’ve been called out on it. For example, when planning the first Bristol Reclaim the Night, I tried to explain on the poster that all self-identifying women were welcome to march in the women only section. I messed up and phrased it in a way that wasn’t very trans-inclusive. A trans woman emailed me, and asked if I could change it. I didn’t throw a tantrum and say ‘how dare you, I’m not transphobic, I’m TRYING!’ I apologised, accepted I had made a mistake, took her advice and tried not to make the same mistake again. It wasn’t hard. I have cis privilege and I didn’t know, so when someone called me out, corrected me, I was happy to be better informed (similarly, please call me out on any fuck ups in this post).

Another occasion – on the receiving end this time. I’ve had straight people online try to tell me about bi-phobia and homophobia, with no knowledge of my sexuality and family history, and of course I’ve had men trying to tell me about sexism. Mansplaining, if you will. I would call them out and hope that they would listen to me, and respect my lived experience. I wouldn’t expect them to refuse to listen and instead lecture me on how they’re not bi-phobic, homophobic or sexist. As feminists we expect this of men all the time. For example, when a man called me hysterical after I wrote for Liberal Conspiracy, and we called him out for sexism, he insisted he wasn’t being sexist. He didn’t want to check his privilege that meant for him hysterical isn’t a word loaded with gendered meaning.

I can understand why people might feel embarrassed or awkward when people call them out, why they might get defensive. But seriously? It’s not that bad. It’s not as bad as centuries of oppression. I get it wrong all the time. We all do. So we have to listen, to make sure we get it right next time.

***

So anyway, the main reason this post has been floating around my head like a bee all day was because of an article in the New Statesman written by the Vagenda women that frustrated me and plenty of women on Twitter. It was a piece defending Caitlin Moran and ‘populist feminism’.

The article rightly argued that feminism needs to be accessible, but then seemed to take issue with the word ‘intersectionality’, saying that mainstream feminism was too intellectual and not relevant to women’s real lives.

Of course, in many respects this is true, hence why intersectionality is an issue in the first place. This isn’t helped by documentaries purporting to tell the history of women’s movement that feature no black women working class women, or trans women, or disabled women. Or articles about how ‘feminism’s back’ in the newspapers that are so excited about featuring men that they don’t feature black women, or working class women, or trans women, or LGBQ women, or disabled women.

Vagenda criticise the feminist movement for not relating to women’s lives, with the idea that feminists are sitting around talking about how many women are on boards, at the expense of the impact of the cuts on single mums. But I don’t believe this is true of the feminist movement on the ground. It’s true of how the feminist movement is portrayed in the media.

One of the issues I have with the Vagenda article is that whilst they are rightly talking about intersectionality, they’re also failing to acknowledge the vast number of feminist voices out there who don’t fit their portrayal of a feminist as someone privately educated, white and doesn’t understand poverty. It's also a failture to acknowledge that intersectionality means that women can have all sorts of different privileges. And in doing that they are joining the mainstream media who also never bother to mention the hundreds if not thousands of women who don’t get featured in their headline articles.

I should say that I mentioned this on Twitter and Vagenda said to email them with info about grassroots activism so they can publicise it. Which is great, and I did.

The article is right to criticise when the feminist movement is not accessible, but we must not do this at the expense of the voices that are truly fighting for an intersectional feminist movement that includes all women’s voices. Like this group, for example.

Making feminism comprehensible and accessible is not at odds with intersectionality. If the feminist movement is going to develop we must be intersectional and not be afraid to call out privilege. Even when calling out that privilege means we have to criticise each other.

The article says

 ‘Moran at least speaks a language that we all understand. And how many other feminists can you credit with that?’

I can credit many, many feminists who speak a language we can all understand.

They’re in the grassroots, discussing, talking, activist-ing, making speeches, running workshops, running rape crisis centres, doing and talking and making change happen. And yes we make mistakes and yes many, many of us need to do better at being intersectional (me included). And no, we don’t get many articles written about us.

I don’t think we get better at being intersectional by joining in with the silencing of many activist women’s voices. We do it by recognising them. What’s more, we don’t succeed at being intersectional when we refuse to call out successful, privileged women for saying offensive things because to do so ‘would distract from bigger issues like patriarchy’. It's ok to call out each other out. It's not infighting, it's something we need to do if we want to be a better, stronger, more open movement.

Right, my casserole is ready. Sorry it’s so garbled. Please call me out if I am guilty of anything I am criticising. I won’t be offended.

Can you donate and support Bristol Women's Literature Festival?

Dear blog readers,

As some of you may know, I am putting on the brand spanking new never been done before Bristol Women's Literature Festival next year. It's going to be a weekend of inspiring talks and panels all focused on discovering more about women's writing, past and present.

The main programme will take place at the Watershed on the 16th and 17th March and will be chaired by Bidisha. The programme so far includes:

Women’s Writing today: contemporary women writers discuss their fiction

Feat: Stella Duffy, Helen Dunmore, Kate Williams, Beatrice Hitchman (more TBC)

Out of the Ivory Tower: writing feminism for a non-academic audience

Kat Banyard, Kristin Aune, Debi Withers and Josephine Tsui

Bluestockings and Muses: a history of women’s writing

Prof Helen Hackett, Dr Marie Mulvey-Roberts, Dr Charlotte Crofts (more TBC)

Bringing women’s issues to a mainstream TV audience + film

Emilia di Girolamo plus film

As you can see it's a fascinating programme with a whole host of amazing speakers.

BUT. Putting on any event like this costs money. Venue hire, expenses - it adds up. And that's why I'm hoping you, my lovely readers and commenters, will help me today and make a donation to support this important and fascinating event. If everyone donated £2, or whatever you can afford, then that could go towards covering the costs and ensuring that any profit is split equally between the speakers and a women's rights charity. I should stress here that I won't keep any money from this event. All the money raised will be spent on venue, publicity, speakers' expenses, and any leftover will be split equally between the speakers and a women's charity.

You can donate to support the festival using paypal here

Tickets for the festival aren't free, so donations wouldn't mean you could have free tickets if you want to attend. But your donation will help so much in making sure this event is as amazing as it should be.

Thank you so so much for your generosity.

Please donate today.

Men talking about women's right to choose

In his controversial New Statesman article on Sunday, Mehdi Hasan wrote that he believed you could still be lefty and anti-choice (I refuse to use the term ‘pro life’ as it’s a lie). He wrote:

‘Abortion is one of those rare political issues on which left and right seem to have swapped ideologies: right-wingers talk of equality, human rights and “defending the innocent”, while left-wingers fetishise “choice”, selfishness and unbridled individualism.’

He argued, like Christopher Hitchens before him, that the pro-choice stance of ‘my body, my choice’ is individualistic and more akin to right wing notions about the importance of individual choice, than the left wing aims of equality and giving a voice to those who are silenced. He goes on to clarify this with:

‘Isn’t socialism about protecting the weak and vulnerable, giving a voice to the voiceless? Who is weaker or more vulnerable than the unborn child? Which member of our society needs a voice more than the mute baby in the womb?’

The decision to have an abortion is an individual decision. But that doesn’t make it a selfish one. In fact, I believe that Hasan has made a huge mistake in his argument in that he has conveniently forgotten that being anti-choice is an individual decision too, and it’s a decision that’s inherently selfish. Because it’s that decision, if taken to the anti-choice aim of no abortion (Hasan doesn’t actually call for a ban on abortion, I should make that clear), that has an impact on the lives of half the world’s population, silencing women’s voices and denying women the basic right to bodily autonomy. Isn’t that more selfish? To think an individual, personal belief is more important than the human rights of 3.5 billion living women and girls? 

In my view, the decision to be anti-choice is to make the decision that an individual, personal belief on abortion is more important than the universal human right to bodily autonomy and a woman’s right to have control over her own body. Therefore deciding to call women’s bodily autonomy ‘selfish’ only makes sense if you don’t think women’s rights over their body matter, if you don’t think that women’s rights count.  

Since the article was published, Hasan has complained that he has been the victim of sexism, as women reacted with anger and upset over his words. He bemoaned that it showed how men aren’t allowed to talk about abortion, that the reaction wasn’t fair. He seemed to not understand that the anger arose because once again, men are telling women what they should and shouldn’t be allowed to do with their bodies. And I for one am sick of men telling women what they can and can’t do with their bodies – from telling us we can’t walk outside at night, to telling us we can’t drink, to telling us we can’t decide for ourselves whether to have a baby or not.  

And anyway, despite both Hasan and Dominic Lawson complaining about the fact that men aren’t allowed to talk about abortion, they seem to be doing a jolly good job of getting their views aired. Men are so much allowed to talk about abortion that the Today show even had two men and no women debating the subject a couple of months ago. As it stands, I don’t mind men talking about abortion per se. What I do mind is having women’s voices erased from the conversation. 

What I object to is the lack of consideration taken for our bodies, our rights and our views on the subject. I’m sick of abortion being reduced to an ethical debate as left and right wing men treat our bodies as a ping pong ball to score points off. I’m fed up of our bodies being talked about in abstract terms, as ethical battlegrounds that deny us our voice and humanity. And I’m pretty pissed off that our right to our bodies is being framed as a selfish choice, and not as a basic human right. 

Men can talk about abortion if they want to. But to be honest, I’d rather they just listened. Because, fundamentally, it’s selfish for anyone to tell anyone what we can and can’t do with our bodies based on a personal opinion.