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Category: Misogyny

  • Endometriosis isn’t funny. Libby doesn’t agree.

    Let’s start at the start. What is endometriosis? Who does it impact?

    Endometriosis is a painful, chronic, incurable illness that affects one in nine people who menstruate. Gynaecologist and author Dr Susan Evans defines it as “a condition where bits of tissue like the lining of the uterus are found in places outside the uterus where they shouldn’t be”. Endometriosis symptoms can include, but are not limited to: debilitating pain during periods, abdominal bloating, nausea, fatigue, low mood and depression, anxiety, pain with sex, adhesions, painful bowel movements and/or urination, chronic pelvic pain, and infertility.

    Patients can have some, none or all of those symptoms. There are four stages of endometriosis with one being the least endometriosis lesions and four being the most, but there is no correlation between stages of endo and levels of pain.

    You could have stage one endo and severe pain or stage four endo and no pain. We still have tons to do in terms of research and awareness to work out why and how that is so.

    Tell us a bit about your own endo story and how it’s impacted your life? 

    I was born and raised in Canberra and moved to Adelaide at 14 years old. Just when we were about to move, I had a sudden attack of abdominal pain and I fainted on our icy cold Canberra bathroom tiles. My mum suggested it was probably period pain because she suffered similar and was a fainter as well. Later that day, I got my first period. Figuring it was normal and just the way period pain worked, I got on with my life, and we moved to Adelaide where I endured these painful, dizzy and nauseating episodes every month.

    When I was 19, I had a working holiday in Cairns where a friend told me she’d been diagnosed with ‘endometriosis’ and described her symptoms to me. They matched my own, so I took myself off a doctor and he sent me away with a diagnosis of ‘partying too hard’ after chastising me for diagnosing myself (where did you get your medical degree? he asked). 

    At 22, I was back on the east side, living in Jindabyne and working at Blue Cow Mountain. I woke early one morning in severe pain, staggered to my local GP and promptly collapsed on the waiting room floor. I was whisked off in an ambulance to Cooma and my appendix was whipped out.

    My surgeon visited me after the procedure and said he’d removed a healthy appendix. I asked, what’s wrong with me, then? And he said, You’ve probably just got your knickers in a twist over something.

    Back in Adelaide for many years, I visited doctors complaining of pain, only to be told it was all in my head, until I was 35 and pregnant with a much-wanted baby that turned out to be a cornual ectopic pregnancy (a rare and dangerous condition where implantation occurs on the outside corner or in the cavity of the ‘horn’ of the uterus). This was the first of 11 pregnancy losses and no surviving pregnancies. 

    After having the ectopic removed via caesarean surgery, I was in more pain than ever, so I kept going back to my specialist asking for help and he kept saying I was fine, just grieving and/or stressed (eg, all in my head). After 12 months of dismissal, he reluctantly agreed to do a diagnostic laparoscopy but assured me there was nothing wrong with me. That surgery revealed stage four endometriosis. Finally, I had answers. Finally, it wasn’t all in my head. Finally, I could start healing. Because, when you spend 22 years trying to fix a head that isn’t sick, your head gets a little sick. So, I had a lot of work to do to forgive myself.  

    The cover "Endo Days."

    The cover “Endo Days.”

    In a nutshell, what’s your book about? 

    Endo Days is a journalistic memoir that’s part narrative, part instruction manual and part comedy routine. It threads my story through interviews with a diverse range of ‘endo friendos’ across Australia, including the experiences of trans, queer, neurodivergent, younger, older, First Nations, metropolitan and rural Australians. The book offers tips and tricks for living well with chronic illness and takes the reader through my journey from misdiagnosis to treatment, through medical gaslighting, pregnancy losses, raising step-kids and a foster son, and working towards educating others.

    Why did you write it?

    When I was first diagnosed, I was angry and confused. I was sent home with this word, ‘endometriosis’ but no further information. I googled and was even more confused. I am a teacher by trade, so I immediately wanted to get some resources out there for people like me who were diagnosed late and feeling lost in the void.

    But I also wanted to educate 14-year-old me (and her mum) that pain like that isn’t normal and there are better ways we can advocate for ourselves.

    So when Wakefield Press approached me to write the book I knew I wanted to write the resource that would have helped me when I was first trying to navigate this illness. 

    You actually have a comedy how about endo and your book is quite funny in parts too. Why take this approach? 

    Someone once said to me, ‘there’s nothing funny about chronic illness’ and that felt like a challenge! 

    In my family, we have always used humour to diffuse tragic, difficult or awkward situations and my journey through endometriosis has been all of those things. But I also learn best through laughing. My husband Matt and I wrote our comedy cabaret (also called Endo Days) about our experiences with endo together.

    In the show, we sing and joke about things like pain, the partner experience, medical gaslighting, fertility issues, being excluded from the ‘Mum Club’ because I didn’t birth my three children, unsolicited advice (have you tried yoga?) and there’s even a rap about suppositories. The show is great fun and a well-earned laugh for people with pain and their supporters. 

    It’s therapeutic for me as well, but the best bit is giving people who feel like there’s no hope and nothing out there for them an hour of comedy and song that is entirely relatable and allows them to feel validated and important, which they deserve.

    Libby Trainor Parker is also a comedian. Picture Supplied/Craig Egan

    Libby Trainor Parker is also a comedian. Picture Supplied/Craig Egan

    A huge concern all through your book is gaslighting by the medical profession. Unpick this for us.

    It took two decades for me to be diagnosed with endometriosis. I went to so many doctors complaining of pain, moods, fertility issues, bloating, nausea, bladder and bowel pain. And every time, I was told it was stress and anxiety, tiredness or a mystery virus. I was never referred to a gynaecologist until an ectopic pregnancy accidentally took me to a specialist who also said it was in my head, but who finally diagnosed me.

    Endometriosis, in addition to many illnesses that affect women and people assigned female at birth, is still underfunded, under-researched and lacking awareness. Many of us are sent away with a prescription of ‘paracetamol and a lie down’ or ‘get some exercise and take up a hobby’ or ‘deal with it, it’s a women’s lot’. One woman told me a story that she was instructed by a GP to, ‘have an affair because then you’ll lose weight and feel better about yourself and your pain will go away’. 

    But it’s hard for doctors as well, especially GPs, because they are expected to be experts on everything from coldsores to cancer, so they need us to know our bodies better so we can go to see them armed with more information and the confidence to describe our symptoms better.

    And I think things are changing. We are talking more. There is more information out there and, what was once a taboo topic is becoming more acceptable to discuss.

    I see a generation of younger people coming through who are gutsier and more informed than I ever was and it gives me hope that endometriosis will be easily diagnosed and treated in the near future.

    You also delve into all the endo myths. Give us an example. 

    Patients are often told pregnancy or hysterectomy will cure endometriosis, but there is not yet a cure for endo. People are also often told endo causes infertility, but that is also not always the case. There is so much that is unknown about endometriosis, but telling someone to get pregnant or have a hysterectomy before they’re ready to is extreme and dangerous!

    If people take one thing away from your book, what would you like it to be? 

    I want people with endometriosis to feel seen, heard, understood and validated, and I want them to know they are not alone. There are people fighting for them every day and working hard to get this illness better recognised so we can fix it. I want them to know there is change on the horizon and there is hope. I want partners, parents, supporters and health practitioners to feel acknowledged and that we are grateful to them.

    Living with chronic illness is so hard and we’re all doing our best. We can’t be warriors every day. Some days, I’m too tired to fight and I go back to bed and try again tomorrow. And that’s okay. I want people with endo to know that they’re enough, what they’re doing is enough and I’m proud of them for surviving. 

    Is there anything else you want to say? 

    I am hoping to bring my show and book to Canberra, so please come and see me so I can be the Homecoming Queen.  

    The post Endometriosis isn’t funny. Libby doesn’t agree. appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Coercive control is not a new phenomenon

    The following article is a condensed version of a research paper delivered at the ANU Gender Institute symposium on ‘Understanding Coercive Control’ that explored coercive control from multiple inter-disciplinary perspectives.

    The issue of coercive control – what is it, how do we recognise it, should it be criminalised – has been subjected to significant media and public attention in the last few years. This, in conjunction with the fact that the term ‘coercive control’ was only coined in 2007 by sociologist Evan Stark, contributes to the assumption that coercive control is a new phenomenon.

    However, the patterns of behaviours designed to intimate, control, and isolate an individual that Stark classifies as coercive control have been a feature of intimate partnerships since at least the nineteenth century.

    Notably, it was as early as the 1880s that these behaviours were beginning to be criticised and recognised as unacceptable masculine marital behaviours, or as abuses of patriarchal authority.  Through law and literature, wives and women were claiming that a husband’s unquestioned control over all aspects of his wife’s life was an unacceptable abuse of patriarchal power – with some divorce court judges supporting this assertion.

    The 1886 novel of Rosa Praed, The Right Honourable, is an enlightening example of how colonial women used literature to critique domestic violence in all its forms, including the non-physical and especially patterns of behaviour that would now be termed coercive control. Despite Praed being Australia’s most popular and well-known female author during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, renowned for her damning portrayals and critiques of marriage, few of her books have been reprinted since their original publication.

    The Right Honourable is no exception to this – despite being reprinted multiple times throughout the 1880s and 1890s, it has been out of print for a century.

    Zoe Smith believes the 1886 novel of Rosa Praed, The Right Honourable, is an enlightening example of how colonial women used literature to critique domestic violence in all its forms. Picture: Supplied

    Zoe Smith believes the 1886 novel of Rosa Praed, The Right Honourable, is an enlightening example of how colonial women used literature to critique domestic violence in all its forms. Picture: Supplied

    In The Right Honourable, Crichton Kenway is introduced as a man ‘who seemed fairly fitted to be a hero of romance of the conventional order. He was tall, upright, good-looking, well dressed, and had an air of breeding’. A politician who moves in all the right social circles, he and his Australian wife Koorali seemingly have the perfect relationship. However, Crichton’s marital behaviour means that the marriage between himself and Koorali is clearly no ‘romance of the conventional order’.

    The marriage is characterised by psychological and verbal abuse directed towards Koorali, with Crichton’s behaviour comprehensible to the modern reader as behaviour we would now term ‘coercive control’ and ‘gaslighting’.

    Crichton tells Koorali how to dress, he regulates her behaviour at balls to ensure she is constantly working to his advantage in using her feminine wiles to charm his superiors, he reads her letters over her shoulder, he criticises and monitors her expenditure. All this occurs in conjuction with his verbal abuse designed to belittle and demean her, ‘crude, hard things in a way that hurt her like a blow’.

    As Praed describes, ‘Crichton, though never absolutely rude or rough, had a rasping, overbearing manner at home – a way of harking upon mean detail, of fault-finding, and of attributing the lowest motive to every action, which often caused Koorali to wince, destroying her spontaneity and self-confidence, and making her timid and reserved, and less and less a thing of flesh and blood’. Resultantly, Koorali ‘began to believe that she was really stupid and wanting in common sense, as Crichton so often told her, and that he had reasonable cause for complaint’.

    Notably, these behaviours are the most prominent form of domestic violence depicted by Praed in the novel, and are judged by Praed and other characters in the text, both male and female, to be behaviours beyond reasonable patriarchal authority. It is insinuated that this form of abuse is inherently linked to other forms of domestic violence – later in the text when Koorali states that she will leave Crichton as a result of his controlling behaviour, he threatens her with legally sanctioned marital rape which is coupled with the first explicit hinting of an act of physical violence – ‘he made a gesture as if he would have fell upon her and throttled her there and then’.

    The acts of verbal and psychological abuse, and what we would consider coercive control, are the key feature Praed sought to emphasise in her critique of masculine marital behaviour – her fiction, situated in the romance and domestic realist genres, generally sought to highlight the myriad forms of abuse faced by wives in colonial marriages.

    These patterns of behaviours were not a new form of unacceptable marital masculine behaviour for colonial female authors such as Praed to criticise. From 1880, Ada Cambridge, a popular writer of serial fiction in Australian newspapers, detailed the systematic regime of control and abuse wives could suffer at the hands of husbands in her fiction. In Cambridge’s ‘Dinah’, serialised in The Australasian from 1879-1880, Dinah’s husband subjects her to a regime of humiliation, economic control, and psychological abuse that would be recognised today as coercive control: ‘he watched over her expenditure with a suspicious watchfulness that pounced upon every sixpence wasted; and if she tore her dress, or knocked over a wineglass, he made her life a burden to her for hours afterwards’.

    As the narrator describes of Dinah’s experiences: ‘the humiliations to which she was subjected were petty, indeed, from an outside point of view – hints and slights and sneers that made no noise or scandal but they were nonetheless the cruellest that the ingenuity of an aggrieved husband, who was at once bully and coward, could devise’.

    In a similar state of marital relations to Koorali and Crichton, the psychological abuse and controlling behaviour perpetrated by Dinah’s husband is the only instance of domestic violence that Cambridge explicitly details, aside from hinting at an occasion of marital rape.

    By the mid 1880s then, there was certainly a growing awareness and criticism of the myriad of forms that domestic violence could take in marriages. The question of what to call this spectrum of behaviours was a difficult one – whilst ‘wife-beating’ was still the most popular term, connoting images of working class men perpetrating physical violence, courts and newspapers focused more broadly on what they termed ‘cruelty’, a legal term subjective to the discretion of individual judges. Acts that we would now consider to be economic violence, psychological abuse, and coercive control were either constructed as ‘mental cruelty’ or as constituting a broader ‘system of tyranny’ that a husband could subject his wife to.

    By 1890, the New South Wales case of Hume v Hume, presided over by Justice Windeyer, court cemented ‘mental cruelty’ and a husband’s ‘system of tyranny’ as a form of domestic violence cruel enough to warrant a wife a divorce without also declaring physical violence. Edward Hume had ‘cut his wife Ellen off from the intercourse of her friends; refused to speak to her for days and weeks, except in orders’ coupled with oaths and abuse, and refused to let her leave their property’.

    Yet, coercive control alone or accompanied by the ‘occasional’ blow was not enough to break the sacred bonds of marriage across the whole of Australia – Windeyer was the exception amongst his fellow judges in Victoria and Queensland. Dismissing a 1912 case in Queensland in which William Tredea had isolated his wife Laura on a rural pastoral station and controlled the amount of time she spent with her children, Justice Shand declared he had to be ‘careful not to go beyond the limits of legal cruelty’ and to not overly restrict a husband’s understood household authority.

    A husband’s ‘system of tyranny’ could therefore and still was tolerated and upheld, despite growing awareness and criticism, and it wouldn’t be until the 1970s that this broader pattern of abusive behaviours would again be brought to public attention by feminists criticising domestic violence more broadly. The establishment of women’s refuges such as Elsie in 1974, alongside the testimonies of wives to the Royal Commission on Human Relationships published in 1977, put a spotlight on domestic violence, with acts of coercive control given renewed public and feminist attention. See Michelle Arrow’s The Seventies for more on this.

    Yet, it has taken until 2007 for the pattern of behaviours to be given an official name and definition, and it is only in the last few years, in the wake of cases such as the murder of Hannah Clarke and the subsequent relevant of the nature of her husband’s abusive and controlling behaviour.

    Why? That I can’t answer, but it is high time that we acknowledge that coercive control in Australia has been the subject of feminist and legal attention for 150 years.

    As for what historians like myself can contribute to current discussions by historicising coercive control, openly acknowledging the cultural discourses and acceptability around contemporary forms of violence, and judging historical violence by current standards, allows for a revitalised and more complex understanding of domestic violence in the past – an understanding that is vital in thinking about domestic violence and coercive control in Australia and Australian society more broadly if we ever going to deal with our ‘national problem’.

    The post Coercive control is not a new phenomenon appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • “The child cannot fathom the horror awaiting her”

    Zimbabwean author Lucy Mushita has written a moving, original and emotional novel called, Chinongwa. The book recounts a coming-of-age story set in rural 1920s Zimbabwe. Chinongwa’s family have been displaced from their lands and are very poor. One desperate solution to hunger is to trade young daughters into marriage. Chinongwa, a small, thin girl, is eventually offered as a second wife to a man who is old enough to be her grandfather. 

    Given Lucy Mushita’s brave decision to tackle child marriage, BroadAgenda editor Ginger Gorman had a chat with the debut author.

    This book was based on a real story from your community. Why was it so hard to find out the background to this story from people in your village? 

    Though not my own grandmother (both my grandmothers died giving birth), Chinongwa’s story was a village shame that was whispered about. 

     What happened when you tried? 

    Between the age of three and five, I innocently joined a conversation of these two grandmothers. One of them threatened to wash my mouth with soap if I repeated what I had heard. I ran away but from then on, Grandmother Chinongwa’s story became my obsession. I’d pretend to play next to adults, eavesdropping. Years later, I’d return from France with my first child, to discover that I could now join adult conversations. On asking questions about Chinongwa, I got three reactions.

    ‘Who send you to ask me?’

    ‘I don’t remember; let sleeping dogs lie.’

    ‘That was sad, wasn’t it?’ 

    I had to pull any information out of their noses. 

    Is it usual to be so secretive about these things in Zimbabwe?

    Unpalatable pasts tended to be cloaked in tired nods, shrugs and sighs. They had given her away; they were responsible for all her suffering. The sight of Chinongwa could only provoke their guilt, making it difficult for them to maintain the group amnesia they preferred.

    Please give us the global context for child marriage and why it makes you so angry. 

    In Zimbabwe, the man pays roora (a dowry) in money, cows, goats, clothes – for his bride. This incentivises parents to dehumanise their daughters and treat them as objects of exchange. While an unknown adult man who has sex with a random girl commits paedophilia, when that random girl’s parents (who should protect her) permit the same random man to have sex with her, the girl becomes a bride.

    Shakespeare says, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

    Sex with a child, regardless of roora, is still paedophilia. A 2023 UNICEF report reveals that of all marriages, 19% are of children, 45% in South Asia, 20% in Sub-Saharan Africa. 

    What drives child marriage within Zimbabwe?

    Tradition (millennial customs that haven’t changed), poverty (receiving roora is more attractive than paying school fees), parental greed (an old man loaded with bling is easily welcome). 

    Your character is only a little girl (the same age as my own daughters!). How have you tried to portray Chinongwa so we see her humanity? 

    Though Chinongwa knows she will most likely be given away, she is a child, innocent to what marriage entails. She needs her mother, chases butterflies, dreams of going to school. 

    Your writing is highly beautiful and evocative. Tell us how you developed this style.

    My writing was most likely influenced by the poetic and imaged language the elders used when I was small. Most of these illiterate raconteurs mesmerised us children as they sang, slammed and danced to poetry. As my writing is very visual, and I was telling their story, I was a simple interpreter. 

    ‘She had never seen talking lions or giraffes, never seen singing pythons that gave their eggs to humans but then, neither had she ever seen overflowing granaries, rivers of milk and honey, nor the kneeless with a woman-king.’

    ‘A man who never marries. When he dies, a mouse is tied onto his back and he is told that it is his child. That way, he does not come back to haunt his family looking for his children. Because he cannot see what is on his back, he thinks it is a child.’

    The cover of 'Chinongwa.' Picture: Supplied

    The cover of ‘Chinongwa.’ Picture: Supplied

    Why is this a feminist call to arms?  What are you hoping people will take from your book? What change do you hope for? 

    The measure of a society is how it treats its most vulnerable. My hope is that once one has read Chinongwa, the above-mentioned statistics will acquire a face, a name, a place. I want readers to put themselves in Chinongwa’s shoes, feel her likes, hear her laughter, sense her fear, pain and helplessness at leaving her mother and home. I want them to put on their shining armour, come to her rescue.

    I want communities to stop dressing girls in bridal outfits to celebrate weddings in which the child cannot fathom the horror awaiting her.

    I want men and women to wake up to the plight of girls, to lobby the UN to criminalise paedophilia. Otherwise, what kind of society are we to condone child rape. Slavery was outlawed.

    What are we waiting for, to outlaw societal paedophilia? Given the choice, would any of us choose an eleven-year-old illiterate mother? I am sure we would all go for an older mother, who chose to have us, who knows what she is doing, who can protect us and satisfy our basic needs.  

     

    Picture at top: Author Lucy Mushita. Picture: Supplied 

    The post “The child cannot fathom the horror awaiting her” appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Women, inequity and getting the right diagnosis

    “Gender bias in health care, whether conscious or not, is rampant and insidious. It is often harmful, sometime fatal, and always unacceptable,” says patient safety advocate and researcher Jen Morris. “In a cruel twist, women are still fighting to be believed about how often we are not believed.”

    It would seem that the Australian Government is ready to believe. Last month, the government invited Australian women to share their experiences of the healthcare system in its #EndGenderBias survey. These stories will inform the work of the National Women’s Health Advisory Council, established earlier this year to advise the government on improving health outcomes for women and girls in Australia.

    For Jen, who has experienced misdiagnosis and serious harm in healthcare, it’s a step in the right direction. “We need to listen to women, to believe women, to hear their stories with open minds and open hearts.” Jen says the biggest barrier to addressing diagnostic inequity for women is “the failure of our healthcare system, and society at large, to frankly acknowledge the extent of the problem.”

    Next month Jen will join doctors Dr Amy Coopes, Dr Arnagretta Hunter and Dr Marisa Magiros, consumer advocate Darlene Cox and health communication expert Dr Mary Dahm for a panel discussion ‘Lost in Diagnosis’ to delve into the diagnostic difficulties women face. From gender bias in medical research and disparities in diagnosis in heart attack and stroke, to pain and symptom dismissal and lengthy delays to getting an accurate diagnosis, women confront numerous challenges in pursuit of a diagnosis.

    Upcoming panel discussion Lost in Diagnosis at The Street Theatre on Thursday 7 September explores the inequities women* face in pursuit of a diagnosis

    *We use this term inclusively to refer to all people who identify as women, including cis, transgender, intersex, non-binary, genderqueer and gender nonconforming people

    There is huge systemic, political work to be done in this space, acknowledges emergency doctor and panel facilitator Dr Amy Coopes. The biggest issue they see with gender and diagnosis at the high-acuity frontlines of medicine is internalised gender norms, both for patients and clinicians.

    “Society tells women—a problematic term in itself that erases whole population groups with binary rhetoric—that they shouldn’t complain, that their needs are secondary to those of others in their lives, and that the ‘normal’ spectrum of female-bodied physiology encompasses debilitating somatic experiences.”

    Amy sees this manifest itself as “clinicians failing to inquire, appreciate or validate patient experiences, meaning often reversible pathologies go undiagnosed to the point that they inflict irrevocable damage, sometimes even terminally so.”

    Addressing this challenge is no easy task, but Amy views every conversation as “an opportunity to heal through action.” “It’s about asking rather than assuming—who someone is, how they experience their body, what helps them feel well, what hinders.

    “Too often in medicine, the shorthand of our biases fills in the gaps, and when we superimpose an idea of someone—however well intentioned—over what they are actually trying to say, we miss the point entirely. It’s about simply starting with a clean slate of shared humanity when we sit down to bear witness to a patient’s story.”

    Panellist Darlene Cox is a longstanding consumer advocate who knows firsthand from ACT consumers that good communication is key to safe health care. “When information is not communicated between our treating clinicians, the broader multidisciplinary team, our GPs and us, it can affect our diagnosis and impact our access to the treatment we need,” she explains.

    Communication is critical, agrees Dr Mary Dahm, a linguist at the ANU Institute for Communication in Health Care. Mary suggests that one way to solve some of the inequities women face when it comes diagnosis is through more open and patient-centred communication, particularly about expectations around diagnosis and diagnostic uncertainty.

    “Patients and doctors often have very different expectations about diagnosis. Patients often think it’s a straightforward run to the finish line, while doctors know it often more of a meandering odyssey,” she says.

    These misaligned expectations can be addressed when both parties openly share their expectations with each other. “When patients know that a less straightforward diagnostic pathway is often a normal occurrence, that can help alleviate their anxiety,” says Mary.

    “Doctors who attend to and acknowledge the emotions that patients often attach to their symptoms and expectations for a diagnosis can improve their patient’s diagnostic experience.”

    To hear more about women, diagnostic inequity and what we can do about it, register for Lost in Diagnosis: Navigating the communication challenge of misdiagnosis in women. This is a free event at The Street Theatre on Thursday 7 September at 5.30pm. The event is part of the Wellspring: Enquiry and Exchange series, a collaboration between The Street Theatre and the ANU School of Literature, Languages and Linguistics bringing campus to the community.

    • Please note picture at top is a stock image. 

    The post Women, inequity and getting the right diagnosis appeared first on BroadAgenda.

  • Diane Abbott offends the establishment again, this time by calling out a Tory MP’s racism

    MP Diane Abbott has once again come under fire in the mainstream media. Unsurprisingly, it has less to do with what she did than it does with the establishment media and politicians’ misogynoir, combined with their dislike for her politics.

    Nothing worse than criticising a Tory

    What’s worse than 41 people desperate for safe haven drowning in the sea before Western governments recognise the value of their lives? Criticising a Tory politician’s xenophobia, apparently. At least if the reactions of mainstream media, along with centrist and right-wing politicians, are anything to go by.

    On 9 August, in response to the news that 41 refugees had drowned in the Mediterranean en route to Italian shores, Abbott said in a now-deleted tweet:

    The migrants have indeed fucked off. To the bottom of the sea

    Abbott was referring to Conservative MP Lee Anderson’s comments, made earlier in the same week, that asylum seekers complaining about being housed on the Bibby Stockholm barge should “fuck off back to France”.

    But in a move that probably surprised no one who’s been paying attention, the establishment media jumped at the chance to depict Abbott in an unflattering light.

    Deliberately misplaced outrage

    Marcus Daniel, former editor-in-chief at Media Diversified, said:

    Many people saw right through the establishment narrative and highlighted the message behind Abbott’s tweet:

    And suggestions that Abbott shouldn’t have deleted the tweet received considerable support:

    Author Steve Howell noted:

    Diane Abbott and misogynoir

    Journalist Lorraine King called out the misogynoir – the combination of anti-Black racism and misogyny – faced by Black women in particular, which was evident throughout the entire debacle:

    Obviously, this isn’t the first time Abbott has faced public outrage that is entirely disproportionate to her actions:

    So recent events have been nothing if not predictable. It’s a crying shame that in a country where refugees are told to fuck off back to where they came from, Diane Abbott’s outrage is what made the headlines – and for all the wrong reasons.

    The Labour Party has already suspended Abbott over antisemitism, despite the party’s general and persistent tolerance for racism and misogynoir. What more do these people want? Just let a Black woman express her compassion and anger in peace, I beg you.

    Featured image via YouTube

    By Afroze Fatima Zaidi

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • Female umpires encountering a culture of abuse, misogyny

    “I wouldn’t know any woman who’s been in umpiring who hasn’t experienced something negative,” says Carly*, a former AFL umpire.

    She’s commenting on a recent study, conducted by former umpire Victoria Rawlings and former umpiring manager Damian Anderson, which examined the experience of female AFL umpires. Focus groups and interviews were conducted with community and state level female umpires, finding misogyny to be rife within officiating environments.

    The data overwhelmingly reflected a “culture of exclusion, discrimination, and hostility,” as a result of both intentional and unintentional behaviours and systems. “The experiences of girls and women in this paper point towards the need to prioritise cultural change within umpiring groups,” the study concludes.

    This is familiar to Carly, who umpired as a teenager into her twenties. Over the course of those years, she had many experiences of misogyny from other officials, and was constantly reminded that she stood out:

    “I think there’s aspects about the environment that are just hostile, just because of the system that you’re in, without any ill intention.”

    Remembering when another umpire said they wished she would be more involved in the wider group, Carly described the frustration she felt, knowing the exclusivity she was up against. “You’re not a member of [the boys] club, but you’re still punished for not being a part of it. You have to try to be in it.”

    Carly consistently felt like she had to be “more competent than the majority” just to be seen as equally competent. “I think people’s models of what makes a good umpire is based on the ones they’ve seen. And so they expect you to look like the men.”

    Only 10.8% of AFL umpires were female in 2019, the last time the Australian Football League released umpiring statistics. Since then, covid-19, among other factors, appears to have lowered those numbers even further, although no official statistics have been confirmed.

    These issues are not unique to AFL. I asked 25 year-old Meredith* about their experience as a female football referee. “Experiencing misogyny as a referee takes many forms,” she told me. 

    “On some level you become ‘used’ to the comments.”

    Meredith has experienced misogynistic remarks being made about her many times, including being asked “if I’m on my period” after making a decision on the field. She has found it exhausting. “It builds up, and eventually you begin to question your place in sport.”

    Talking about how it affects her, Meredith says, “The comments at times that can come from the broader community of referees that is prevalent across all codes (AFL and beyond) is in my experience the most disheartening.” There are times when Meredith, seeing the success of other female referees, has witnessed “other people finding subtle comments to devalue their accomplishments.”

    Umpires such as Carly and Meredith are often facing misogyny from outside umpiring environments too. Internationally accredited hockey umpire and researcher Stirling Sharpe has witnessed spectator abuse towards umpires many times. “The unfortunate reality of being a match official is that you are likely to be abused. Most people accept that this is a (unacceptable) part of the job…where abuse becomes a more significant issue is when it stops being about decisions on field and starts becoming about the person – the way they look, their gender, etc.”

    In cases where the abuse is misogynistic, Stirling says, “Often, I think this is related to an unconscious (or even deliberate) thought that women don’t have the skills to…manage a game (particularly a men’s game).” Participants in Rawlings’ and Anderson’s study experienced this behaviour – one was even told, “You can’t umpire because you’re a girl.”

    Sexism and sexual harassment are also prevalent within umpiring environments. “A pattern that kept coming up, which I think might be a general phenomenon, is basically unwanted sexual attention…you hear how the boys and men talk about women and objectify them,” Carly told me. These experiences are not singular occurrences either, as Rawlings’ and Anderson’s study discussed.

    Participants outlined experiences where other umpires, coaches, and spectators displayed inappropriate behaviours, including sending nude photos, sexist comments, and the objectification of women’s bodies.

    In some cases, harassment was a reason to leave. “That’s what made me quit that level of umpiring,” one participant said. Another stopped showing up to training because one of the coaches was acting inappropriately. 

    Associate Professor Catherine Ordway. Picture: supplied

    Meredith understands this all too well. “The often subtly pervasive nature of the misogyny is exhausting and quickly compiles…When you start to experience it from all sides, and don’t necessarily receive support from the broader community, it’s very easy to consider walking away.” 

    Catherine Ordway, associate professor in sports and exercise science at the University of Canberra, is no stranger to misogyny and abuse within sporting environments. I asked her about how this abuse might reflect on Australia on a wider scale. “I think it reflects the situation that women find themselves in sport, where sport is designed by and for men…there [is a] small percentage of the male population and actually some of the female population that believe that women have no place in sport.” 

    The popularity and visibility of AFL and football makes these sports important platforms for change (AFL’s grand final last year had 2.97 million viewers, and the FIFA Women’s World Cup is already breaking attendance records). When potential strategies to combat misogyny are raised, they often come down to the same things.

    I asked Carly what she thought, and her response was, “…having better coaches, coaches who actually believe in diversity, that would be my biggest change.”Stirling voiced the same concern. “Unsupportive people in high positions can have the ability to block progression, create inharmonious environments, and generally ruin the officiating experience.” 

    Catherine elaborated on these ideas, saying, “We also need to see it normalised that women are part of sports, so that we see women in broadcasting, in journalism, commentating, women coaches, referees, officials – all the way through.” This goal is already being vocalised and addressed in some sports. AFL’s 2022 Women and Girls Game Development Action Plan targets participation and engagement issues, and hockey’s #EquallyAmazing campaign has seen results across at least 19 European nations.

    Whether umpiring will change remains to be seen. “Shifting to a model whereby officials are treated equally, based on their ability to umpire or referee, is something all sports should be moving toward, if they are not there already,” Stirling told me. 

    It seems there’s still a long way to go. According to Catherine, however, “Once we see that it just becomes normal…Nobody is concerned about gender in a negative way. They just celebrate the differences between men’s and women’s sport. And that’s exactly how it should be.”

    *Names have been changed at the request of the interviewees for both professional, safety and privacy reasons.

    Feature image at top is a stock photo.

    The post Female umpires encountering a culture of abuse, misogyny appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Inspired activism drives brilliant new Aussie movie

    Were you lucky enough to see the play of The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race as it has toured Australia over the last few years? Written by former Canberra resident Melanie Tait, it’s a heart-warming, funny, feminist saga about a culture war in a small town.  

    And tomorrow Wednesday (26 July) the movie of the play premieres at 7.30pm On 10 And 10 Play. Or, you can stream on Paramount+ from the following day.

    BroadAgenda editor, Ginger Gorman, chatted with Melanie.

    For those of us who have fuzzy brains, briefly remind us of the plotline of Potato and what inspired it?

    Dr Penny Anderson (played by Claire van der Boom) returns to her home town to discover the event of the year – The Appleton Potato Race – has $2000 prize money for the blokes, and $200 for the women. It’s inspired by something similar happening in my home town, Robertson.

    This is your first movie. What a big deal! Congratulations. How did it come about?

    Thanks Ginger! When I was a kid growing up in Robertson, if you’d have told me that one day I’d have anything to do with a movie, let alone write one, I’d have been stoked.

    The film is based on a play I wrote for Ensemble Theatre in 2019. It was an incredible production directed by Priscilla Jackman and starring Valerie Bader, Merridy Eastman, Sapidah Kian, Amber McMahon and Sharon Millerchip. The play was a dream – it was critically received well, sold out before it opened (ah, pre-covid theatre times…!) and went on to tour Australia.

    Independent producer Andrea Keir read it, then came to see it and wanted to make it into a film. Usually these things take years, I’m told. Within three weeks of having the rights to the play, Andrea had a deal with Paramount+ and the movie was on its way.

    Appleton Ladies Potato Race – Trailer.

    I understand you wrote the script. Was it hard to write for TV (as opposed to the stage)? What other differences were there in the creative process?

    Initially the network didn’t want me to write the screenplay, having some pretty ancient views on the ability of playwrights to write for the screen (not sure where this comes from – most of our great screenwriters have been in theatre at some stage in their careers), but producer Andrea fought hard for me to do the job, and Paramount+ ended up supporting me with a mentor, the brilliant screenwriter and novelist Kylie Needham (who went on to be our Script Editor on the film).

    I learned so much about the process. For example, because we were under such a tight deadline, I couldn’t understand why the network wanted me to write a ‘treatment’ (a lengthy document telling the story of the film) instead of just kicking on with the screenplay. I’ll forever be grateful to Rick Maier from Paramout+ and Channel 10 for insisting on it and teaching me what an important tool it is. Once the treatment was written, it was like a blueprint for the script and I found it smoother work.

    Still, a film is much tougher on the artistic ego and vision of the writer than theatre is. At least it was for me in this process. In theatre, the playwright is consulted on most things when a play is being developed and brought into production. We tend to have a say in the team around us – who the director is, the key cast etc.

    In film, I handed over the script and that was pretty much it – I wasn’t even at a table read-through and was only ever on sit as a visitor, not an active part of the artistic process.

    It was my first time working on a film, and I think we tend to think that, when doing something for the first time everyone around us knows better. I’m not entirely sure that’s true, and if I get to make another film I want to be much more involved. Ultimately, the world of The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race comes from my imagination, so I think I have a lot to contribute.

    That said: both theatre and film are incredibly collaborative and everyone brings their unique set of skills and vision to make the whole.

    The Appleton Ladies' Potato Race: The women line up to race. Picture: Lisa Tomasetti

    The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race: The women line up to race. Picture: Lisa Tomasetti

    Folks in Robertson – your hometown and the place that inspired Potato – were super excited that parts of the movie were filmed there. How do they feel about the movie coming out? What has the reaction been like? (Not everyone was stoked when the real events took place, and you were campaigning for equal prize money back in X year).

    I hope they’re excited! So many people from Robbo contributed to the movie – as extras, with locations etc. I really hope they enjoy it.

    Not that we want to name drop. But let’s name drop. You’ve got some extraordinary Aussie actors in the cast. Who are they and what was it like to work with them?

    There’s some incredible actors in this movie. I feel like in Robyn Nevin and Tiriel Mora we’ve got half the cast of the Aussie classic The Castle reuniting! I’m scared to single anyone out because they’re all so great.

    And what about the director? How did you work together with her and other members of the creative team?

    About 15 years ago, the director Lynn Hegarty and I were put together by our then agent to work on a film project together – I ended up getting a traineeship journo job at the ABC in Darwin and left Sydney so our film died – so it really seemed right that Lynn came in to direct the movie. We spent a couple of days together in Melbourne before the beginning of pre-production, which was great.

    Like I said, I wasn’t really involved after that, but I’m really grateful to Lynn for sticking almost to the letter to the script. She fought hard for a bunch of things that meant a lot to the story and my vision for the film.

    The other really essential part of the creative team was editor Katie Flaxman. Katie and I have been close friends since our early twenties, so I was really able to talk a lot of the process through with her.

    What do you want folks to take away from the film?

    That the gender pay gap is absolute bullshit, whether it’s at the local show or it’s in the management structure at your office. That the only way we change things is by speaking up, organising and actually doing something about injustice.

    That potato racing is a great sport, full of extraordinary skill, speed and strength!

    We’ve seen a big push in the last six months – especially from actors like Bryan Brown –  for Australian content quotas for streaming services. Why do you think it’s so important to tell Aussie stories (like this one).

    It’s essential! The two shows that influenced me most growing up as a person, and as an artist were A Country Practice and Brides of Christ.  A Country Practice, in particular, really taught me about the world around me, the challenges in our society and what being a decent member of a community was. As an adult, I’ve gone back and watched it (and made a podcast about it!) and realised it does all that stuff and reflects what was happening in Australia in the eighties – what we cared about, what we were angry about, why we laughed and cried. So, there’s that cultural reflection part. And, it’s funny too, thanks Esme!

    There’s also a practical part to making more Australian work. A show like ACP made around 90 hour long eps a year for thirteen years.  So annually, that’s 90 directing jobs, 90 screenwriting jobs, 90 lighting director jobs, countless acting jobs etc etc.

    And surely, it’s no coincidence that some of the best and most successful Australian films come from this time – when we had actors and creatives constantly practicing their screen skills? The roll call is extensive and there’s so much shared DNA between all of these projects: The Castle, The Man From Snowy River, Muriel’s Wedding, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Crocodile Dundee, Strictly Ballroom, Romper Stomper, Babe etc.

    More Australian stories on screen has such far reaching implications to our culture, our economy and our sense of national worth. Bring back A Country Practice! 

    The Appleton Ladies' Potato Race - Darren Gilshenan, John Batchelor, Laurence Coy as Billy. Photo: Lisa Tomasetti

    The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race – Darren Gilshenan, John Batchelor, Laurence Coy as Billy. Photo: Lisa Tomasetti

    What’s next for you? More films in the works?

    I’m working on a bunch of plays at the moment, and two screenplays (one I’m co-writing with the author Yvette Poshoglian – a one woman story machine! – which I’m super excited about). I also have a television series in development with Cecilia Ritchie, who was one of the excellent Executive Producers on The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race. Hopefully the Potato Ladies does super well and everyone wants to make all my things (including that A Country Practice reboot!).

     

     

    • Picture at top: The Appleton Ladies’ Potato Race: Claire van der Boom as Penny and Katie Wall as Nikki. Photo: Lisa Tomasetti

    The post Inspired activism drives brilliant new Aussie movie appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Roald Dahl Museum acknowledges author’s ‘undeniable’ racism’

    The Roald Dahl Museum has said that it is working “towards combatting hate and prejudice.” It acknowledged that the renowned children’s writer’s racism was “undeniable and indelible”.

    The admission by the museum, located in Buckinghamshire in southeast England, follows an apology in 2020 by the Dahl family and Roald Dahl Story Company for his well-documented anti-Semitic comments.

    The museum has placed a panel at the entrance of its exhibition acknowledging the racism in Dahl’s work. It has also put up a similar message on its website.

    Anti-semitism, colonialism and misogyny

    Dahl, the creator of books such as ‘Matilda’, ‘The BFG’ and ‘Charlie And The Chocolate Factory’  made offensive remarks about Jewish people in a 1983 interview with the New Statesman magazine.

    Readers have also accused Dahl of misogyny and racism. For example, he depicts the Oompa-Loompas as workers that Willy Wonka has kidnapped “for their own good”. He goes on to say that these characters in ‘Charlie And The Chocolate Factory’ came from the:

    deepest and darkest part of the African jungle where no white man had ever been before.

    Puffin, Dahl’s publisher, hired ‘sensitivity readers’ this year to edit and sometimes rewrite offensive sections of Dahl’s work.

    Museum ‘condemns all racism’

    The Dahl museum, which is a charity, said it fully supported the 2020 apology. The museum said on its website that it:

    condemns all racism, including antisemitism, directed at any group or individual.

    Despite Dahl’s racism, the museum says it still sees his creative work as a potential force for good. They continued:

    Roald Dahl’s racism is undeniable and indelible but what we hope can also endure is the potential of Dahl’s creative legacy to do some good.

    The museum said it was:

    committed to being more welcoming, inclusive, diverse, and equitable in all aspects of our work.

    The museum said it had taken steps towards that, including:

    reflecting the visible diversity of our audiences in our marketing, by running accessible and inclusive recruitment campaigns for staff or trustee positions.

    It said it was working closely with several organisations within the Jewish community, including the Board of Deputies of British Jews and the Jewish Leadership Council.

    The museum noted that it chooses not to repeat Dahl’s anti-Semitic statements publicly, but keeps a record of what he wrote in its collection, “so it is not forgotten”.

    Dahl’s comments have long cast a shadow over his personal legacy, which has remained prominent as a number of his children’s classics have made it onto the screen and stage since his death aged 74.

    Cultural problem

    Reflecting on his life, the Dahl Museum said he was “a contradictory person” who could be kind. But:

    there are also recorded incidents of him being very unkind and worse, including writing and saying antisemitic things about Jewish people

    The fact that the museum has taken until now to acknowledge Roald Dahl’s racism is an example of how slow institutions often are to respond to obvious bigotry by celebrated cultural figures. The Royal Mint even considered Dahl as a prospective subject for a commemorative coin five years ago. Although, happily. he was eventually rejected.

    Dahl is by no means the only commemorated UK cultural personality to be an out-and-out racist. Just take fellow children’s authors Enid Blyton and Rudyard Kipling for instance. The excruciating inertia in recognising the oppressiveness in these writer’s work is a testament to the deep-seated racism and colonialism embedded in UK society and culture.

    Featured image via Solarisgirl/Wikimedia Commons, via CC 2.0, resized to 1910×1000 

    Additional reporting by Agence France-Presse 

    By The Canary

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • Women’s interest in news hits a record low

    This October will mark 11 years since Julia Gillard’s address to parliament calling out sexism and misogyny from then Leader of the Opposition, Tony Abbott. In reflecting on that period, Guardian Australia’s Katharine Murphy discussed the ‘toxicity’ of public discourse directed at Gillard, particularly from ‘some Neanderthal media figures’. In the years since, the press has struggled to get it right when covering women and women’s issues.

    Despite the passage of time, and considerable efforts on the part of women journalists, the news industry in Australia continues to flounder. A recent study found that only 47% of women say they think news covers women fairly and provides enough coverage of issues relevant to women.

    Released today, new findings from a survey of 2,025 Australians suggest that the industry may be facing something of a reckoning. The Digital News Report: Australia 2023 presents findings from a longitudinal study of Australian news consumers and is published annually by the News & Media Research Centre at the University of Canberra.

    The data show that women’s interest in news has hit a record low.

    Only 43% of women say they are extremely or very interested in news compared to 62% of men. While women have over time expressed lower interest in news than men, the decline in women’s interest has been much more pronounced than for men. The proportion of women reporting high interest in news has fallen by 16 percentage points since 2017, compared to only 6 percentage points for men.

    Women are avoiding news more frequently, with 72% saying they often, sometimes, or occasionally avoid news compared to 67% of men. They are more likely than men to say they are avoiding topics such as sports and national politics. Findings from previous surveys suggest the top reasons women avoid news are because there is too much coverage of politics or coronavirus (51%), and that the news has a negative effect on their mood (47%).

    Perhaps women want more good news. When asked about what types of news they were interested in 55% of women say they prefer positive news stories, and 46% say they want news that suggests solutions rather than pointing out problems.

    Women’s trust in news is also in decline. This year only 39% say they trust the news in Australia generally, compared to 48% of men. While trust in news among men increased this year, women’s trust in news fell by 3 percentage points, creating a 9 percentage point gap. This gap is the widest globally, with the average trust among 33 countries surveyed being 41% for men and 40% for women.

    Troublingly, the reasons why women are switching off from news seem to have changed little over the years.

    News—particularly political news—can often seem relentlessly negative or fixated on outrage and scandal. In this context, women do not see themselves and their viewpoints as being fairly and adequately represented. As our previous research shows, only 40% of women say their interests are balanced with the interests of men in news, and only 39% say the news is impartial and unbiased when reporting on women.

    Some of this is possibly due to a failure within the industry to adequately support women journalists. In our survey of journalists, 58% of women journalists said there were barriers to career progression in their news organisation because of their gender. And 47% said they have faced discrimination in their newsroom because of their gender.

    Eleven years may have passed since Gillard’s misogyny speech, but newsrooms continue to be a toxic place for many—particularly young women journalists.

    In such an environment women talk about the difficulty of being heard and the pressure to stick to reporting from an impartial perspective that precludes their own insights as professional women. Senior leadership continues to be dominated by men, and the attitude that women journalists need to ‘put up or shut up’ appears to be pervasive.

    BroadAgenda editor Ginger Gorman asked her female Twitter followers why they were turning off the news. Here are a couple of responses below. 

    As the data from the Digital News report: Australia 2023 show, female audiences are abandoning news in droves. The industry desperately needs to change if it is to have any chance to win back those women who say they feel increasingly alienated from and uninterested in news.

    In an era where audiences are turning away from news, change is now a matter of survival. Whether they are ready for it or not, the news industry will need to find new ways to appeal to women audiences and win back some of that squandered trust. Unless, that is, they’d prefer to go the way of the real Neanderthals, into the pages of history.

    If you would like to read our article on last year’s Digital News report findings, click here.

    • Please note: picture at top is a stock image

    The post Women’s interest in news hits a record low appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • The jailing of a woman for her abortion exposes the misogyny at the heart of modern state surveillance

    On 12 June, a judge sentenced a 44-year old woman to 28 months in prison for aborting a ‘late-term’ pregnancy. The woman, a mother-of-three, allegedly received abortion pills through the “pills by post” scheme introduced during the first coronavirus (Covid-19) lockdown in 2020. 

    Abortion: criminalised under an archaic act

    The legal case for the prosecution was possible because the woman pleaded guilty to an offence under the Offences against the Person Act (OAPA). This is an archaic piece of legislation from 1861 which is supposed to ‘protect children in-utero’ by making abortion a criminal offence if a woman:

    with intent to procure her own miscarriage, shall unlawfully administer to herself any poison or other noxious thing”. 

    In the UK, abortion is only legal up to the 24th week of pregnancy. However, coronavirus changed this.

    People who were pregnant could receive a remote consultation with the British Pregnancy Advisory Service (BPAS). The woman followed this process to obtain the pills. Prosecutors say that she ‘misled’ the BPAS by suggesting she was earlier than 10-weeks pregnant. They alleged she ‘believed’ she was closer to 28-weeks. However, much of this claim seems to come from internet searches made on Google.

    Google searches as evidence

    In the sentencing remarks, the judge – Justice Pepperall – said:

    Messages found on your phone indicate that you had known of your pregnancy for about three months on 1 February 2020. By mid-February, you were conducting internet searches on ways to induce a miscarriage. By the end of February, you were searching for abortion services. Your search on 25 February indicated that you then believed that you were 23 weeks pregnant. Your internet searches continued sporadically through March and April 2020. On 24 April, you searched “I need to have an abortion but I’m past 24 weeks.”

    The assertion that the evidence of searches on Google proves her dishonesty reveals the thorny overlap between data privacy rights and abortion rights – the right to privacy and the right to choose. 

    Searches for health information online, regarding abortions or any other health-related matter for that instance, have no business being admissible evidence in law. However, conglomerate tech companies have normalised the collection and storing of data, along with web trackers and targeted ads. So, the economic underpinning of companies like Google results in fresh surveillance opportunities for law enforcement. 

    The burden of proof

    In the US, we can see this intersection more recently in the overturning of Roe V Wade.

    US law enforcement can subpoena data collected by period apps. Then, they can use that data as ‘evidence’ of a terminated pregnancy because of the Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe, along with states’ subsequent criminalisation of abortion. The issue here is with Google searches being considered indicative of knowing exactly how far along someone is.

    I use Google to search for all kinds of things. I have often searched “how to know if you are pregnant” or “what to do if your period is 7-days late.” If I was pregnant at the time, this doesn’t prove that I know exactly how many weeks along I am. Nevertheless, it seems as though the woman’s search history influenced the sentencing.

    Pepperall went on to say:

    On 9 May, you took mifepristone. That same day you conducted internet searches suggesting that you were 28 weeks pregnant.

    What we search, click, and share online is not private. We make use of private companies to manage our personal lives. However, because of this we have no protections when it comes to online privacy, law enforcement, and in this case the criminalisation of abortion.

    Legalising misogyny via state surveillance

    You may think that the government is not legally allowed to track private citizens. However, there are legislative provisions under the 2016 Investigatory Powers Act that do in fact enable it to do so. Liberty, the UK’s largest civil society organisation, noted that this:

    Act grants [the government] wide-ranging powers to scoop up and store all of our emails, texts, calls, location data and internet history. They can also hack into our phones and computers and create large ‘personal datasets’ on us – all without needing to suspect us of any criminal wrongdoing.

    Our online lives are not separate from our offline lives. Women and other marginalised genders already suffer from the chilling effect that online harassment and abuse causes. This readily results in them choosing not to participate in social media.

    The criminalisation of abortion, and the use of search histories as surveillance, set a disturbing precedent for safe access to abortion for British citizens – and feed directly into misogynistic attempts to silence and control women. 

    Featured image via Mikayla Mallek on Unsplash

    By temi lasade-anderson

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • The jailing of a woman for her abortion exposes the misogyny at the heart of modern state surveillance

    On 12 June, a judge sentenced a 44-year old woman to 28 months in prison for aborting a ‘late-term’ pregnancy. The woman, a mother-of-three, allegedly received abortion pills through the “pills by post” scheme introduced during the first coronavirus (Covid-19) lockdown in 2020. 

    Abortion: criminalised under an archaic act

    The legal case for the prosecution was possible because the woman pleaded guilty to an offence under the Offences against the Person Act (OAPA). This is an archaic piece of legislation from 1861 which is supposed to ‘protect children in-utero’ by making abortion a criminal offence if a woman:

    with intent to procure her own miscarriage, shall unlawfully administer to herself any poison or other noxious thing”. 

    In the UK, abortion is only legal up to the 24th week of pregnancy. However, coronavirus changed this.

    People who were pregnant could receive a remote consultation with the British Pregnancy Advisory Service (BPAS). The woman followed this process to obtain the pills. Prosecutors say that she ‘misled’ the BPAS by suggesting she was earlier than 10-weeks pregnant. They alleged she ‘believed’ she was closer to 28-weeks. However, much of this claim seems to come from internet searches made on Google.

    Google searches as evidence

    In the sentencing remarks, the judge – Justice Pepperall – said:

    Messages found on your phone indicate that you had known of your pregnancy for about three months on 1 February 2020. By mid-February, you were conducting internet searches on ways to induce a miscarriage. By the end of February, you were searching for abortion services. Your search on 25 February indicated that you then believed that you were 23 weeks pregnant. Your internet searches continued sporadically through March and April 2020. On 24 April, you searched “I need to have an abortion but I’m past 24 weeks.”

    The assertion that the evidence of searches on Google proves her dishonesty reveals the thorny overlap between data privacy rights and abortion rights – the right to privacy and the right to choose. 

    Searches for health information online, regarding abortions or any other health-related matter for that instance, have no business being admissible evidence in law. However, conglomerate tech companies have normalised the collection and storing of data, along with web trackers and targeted ads. So, the economic underpinning of companies like Google results in fresh surveillance opportunities for law enforcement. 

    The burden of proof

    In the US, we can see this intersection more recently in the overturning of Roe V Wade.

    US law enforcement can subpoena data collected by period apps. Then, they can use that data as ‘evidence’ of a terminated pregnancy because of the Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe, along with states’ subsequent criminalisation of abortion. The issue here is with Google searches being considered indicative of knowing exactly how far along someone is.

    I use Google to search for all kinds of things. I have often searched “how to know if you are pregnant” or “what to do if your period is 7-days late.” If I was pregnant at the time, this doesn’t prove that I know exactly how many weeks along I am. Nevertheless, it seems as though the woman’s search history influenced the sentencing.

    Pepperall went on to say:

    On 9 May, you took mifepristone. That same day you conducted internet searches suggesting that you were 28 weeks pregnant.

    What we search, click, and share online is not private. We make use of private companies to manage our personal lives. However, because of this we have no protections when it comes to online privacy, law enforcement, and in this case the criminalisation of abortion.

    Legalising misogyny via state surveillance

    You may think that the government is not legally allowed to track private citizens. However, there are legislative provisions under the 2016 Investigatory Powers Act that do in fact enable it to do so. Liberty, the UK’s largest civil society organisation, noted that this:

    Act grants [the government] wide-ranging powers to scoop up and store all of our emails, texts, calls, location data and internet history. They can also hack into our phones and computers and create large ‘personal datasets’ on us – all without needing to suspect us of any criminal wrongdoing.

    Our online lives are not separate from our offline lives. Women and other marginalised genders already suffer from the chilling effect that online harassment and abuse causes. This readily results in them choosing not to participate in social media.

    The criminalisation of abortion, and the use of search histories as surveillance, set a disturbing precedent for safe access to abortion for British citizens – and feed directly into misogynistic attempts to silence and control women. 

    Featured image via Mikayla Mallek on Unsplash

    By temi lasade-anderson

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • ‘Optimistic we will pull ourselves back from the brink’

    In her book new book, Man-Made, Walkley Award-winning journalist Tracey Spicer asks the hard quesitons about how AI will change our lives. What’s the point in agitating to change the present, if bigotry is being embedded into our futures? BroadAgenda editor, Ginger Gorman, sat down with Tracey and had a chat. 

    AI has been in the news a lot lately. What is AI (in a very basic way)? And why do you think people are so scared about it? 

    AI is a constellation of technologies that mimics the human brain. Every time we use a chatbot, search engine or robot vacuum cleaner, we’re interacting with artificial intelligence. Many people are scared of AI because of its capacity to appear sentient: like a human. For example, communicating with ChatGPT can seem like chatting with a friend. It’s quite disconcerting.

    Why did you want to write about AI?

    When my son was 11 years old, he asked for a “robot slave”. Taj had been watching the TV cartoon series South Park, in which Cartman orders around his Amazon Alexa in vulgar and offensive language. This was a lightbulb moment: I realised the 1950s ideal of women and girls being servile is being embedded into the machines of the future. Suddenly, I feared that the gains of the civil rights and feminist movements would be rolled back because of algorithmic bias.

    Cover: Man-Made How the bias of the past is being built into the future

    Cover: Man-Made
    How the bias of the past is being built into the future

    You believe folks are asking the wrong questions. What SHOULD we be concerned about?

    There’s been a lot of coverage about data privacy, copyright and how artificial intelligence challenges what is means to be human. These are important issues. But most of the people speaking about this are male technologists. Bias and discrimination are seen as lesser-order problems. However, this bigotry can be a matter of life-and-death. Algorithms are deciding whether you can emigrate, get a promotion, or access medical treatment in hospital. These real-world conundrums are happening right now, all around the world.

         What does misogyny and bigotry have to do with AI?

    EVERYTHING. The majority of AI innovations are being created by a small group of white men in Silicon Valley. They’re creating a perfect world in which technology works really well – for them. One of the most obvious examples is pointed out by Chukwuemeka Afigbo, a Nigerian tech worker. 

    Afigbo tweets a video of a ‘racist’ automatic soap dispenser at a Marriott hotel: it works for a white person’s hands, but not a Black person’s. Issues like this would be easily avoided by testing devices on people with a variety of skin tones. But creators are beset by their own unconscious bias.

    What kind of world will unfold if we don’t intervene now?

    There’s a clear and present danger we’re heading towards a dystopian future marked by authoritarian governments, mass unemployment and poverty, and digitally-entrenched injustice.

    What’s the alternative to this? 

    We need more women and people from marginalised communities in positions of power within the technology sector, to embed diversity and inclusion from the outset. 

    Ethics must be considered as a priority. And we should harness the power of radical compassion to embrace humanity, instead of outsourcing it to the corporate sector. Ultimately, I am optimistic that we will pull ourselves back from the brink. 

    ‘I tend to think we have an obligation to tell stories about a future that is more just and fair and equitable and sustainable, and thus also more optimistic,’ Distinguished Professor Genevieve Bell from the ANU tells me. ‘And I think we also have an obligation to actively disrupt the present to make those stories possible.’ 

    Your book is very funny! What’s your favourite hilarious anecdote in the book? 

    During online shopping expeditions, are you asked to approve replacements if items are out of stock? Add artificial intelligence, and you end up with some hilarious suggestions. One Facebook user posts a screenshot of a product substitution attempted by Walmart in the US.

    Tampax Pearl tampons are unavailable, so the robot suggests whole white mushrooms instead. I’ve never tried to shove a mushie up there to absorb the bleeding, but who knows? It could become a natural alternative.

    What did you learn that you weren’t expecting? 

    That there is a childcare robot in Japan which says, “I’m watching over you, even when you are sleeping”. Creepy.

    What do you hope people take away from your book? Is there anything else you want to say?

    I hope Man-Made opens people’s eyes to the tectonic shifts happening in recent years. We’re living through the Fourth Industrial Revolution. This is a priceless opportunity for all of us to play a part in a future made for humans, by humans. It’s time to stand tall and say, “Enough!”

    Picture at top: Walkley Award-winning journalist Tracey Spicer. Picture: Supplied

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  • Pacific Feminist Forum: a growing movement for change

    The 3rd Pacific Feminist Forum will be held in Fiji from 8- 10 May 2023. It is described by the organisers as “a platform for Pacific feminists to come together and share their experiences and strategies and inspire others to take on new challenges in their advocacy work and commitment and fight to address the issue of discrimination women face within their own countries and regions.”

    This coordinated and diverse Pacific feminist civil society Forum generates and affirms Pacific feminist knowledge sharing and strategy.  It provides an accessible and egalitarian space for feminist community building and organising . This has given a greater opportunity to Pacific Island civil society actors to harness, influence and promote political and social change.

    Pacific regional feminist civil society is collectively creating spaces to be heard. Pacific feminists share initiatives, reconcile differences in goals, resolve tensions, have open processes, work across difference and sustain actions which have resulted in Pacific feminist civil society being able to build a space for influencing other regional decision makers.

    In doing so, they have also been responding to the perceived problem of a global backlash against women’s rights and rights of sexual orientation and gender identity, a failure to progress the Beijing Platform for Action and the Sustainable Development Goals, and shrinking civil society spaces for feminist civil society in global decision-making.

    An example of one outcome statement from the Pacific Feminist Forum in 2022. Picture: Supplied/Jane Alver

    An example of one outcome statement from the Pacific Feminist Forum in 2022. Picture: Supplied/Jane Alver

    The individual country national level feminist forums that have emerged in the last year and the Pacific regional level forum held in 2016, 2019 and now this year all provide ways forward to foster diversity in Pacific feminist alliances made up of individual entities, and negotiate and amplify common goals. Feminist civil society acting with greater cooperation and collaboration is resulting in diverse inclusion of multiple voices of Pacific actors. The impact of feminist movements and other initiatives of marginalised groups organising to contest gender inequality is continuing to grow.

    The 3rd Pacific Feminist Forum is supported by the Australian Government through the We Rise Coalition and Pacific Women Lead at Pacific-Community-SPC (PWL at SPC), and the European Union in the Pacific, and the Pacific-UN Spotlight Initiative.

    The 3rd PFF Working Group includes Sista, Brown Girl Woke Pacific Feminist Forum – PFF, Pacific Disability Forum, Voice For Change – Jiwaka,PNG, Kiribati Association of Non-Governmental Organisation – KANGO, femLINKpacific and the Fiji Women’s Rights Movement.

    These coalitions and forums can be seen as forming a broader movement across difference within their own organisations and networks, but also as reaching out across movements to build numbers, amplify diverse voices and create more transformative change. The outcome statements from these forums also provide a negotiated platform that can be taken into other meetings and to grow impact and influence. To follow the PFF watch #𝐏𝐅𝐅𝟑 #𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐮𝐦 #𝐏𝐅𝐅𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 #𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 #𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

     

    • Picture at top: We Rise Coalition (femLINKpacific, Fiji Women’s Rights Movement and the International Women’s Development Agency – IWDA) shares a statement of solidarity on anniversary of the 2nd Pacific Feminist Forum – PFF. Picture: Twitter

     

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  • Whitlam’s revolution and why it matters now

    This is a slightly revised version of a vote of thanks given after a panel to launch of the ‘Women and Whitlam’ book with contributors, Elizabeth Reid, Marie Coleman and Blair Williams in conversation with editor Michelle Arrow. This was part of the ANU Meet the Author series, organised by Colin Steele at Kambri Cultural Centre Cinema, April 18. The podcast is available at  Meet the author – Michelle Arrow, Marie Coleman, Elizabeth Reid and Blair Williams.

    If you’re interested to know more about the book itself, check out this Q and A Michelle Arrow did with BroadAgenda editor, Ginger Gorman.

    As the Honorable Tanya Plibersek observes in her foreword in popular memory, “the Whitlam government can feel like a three-year blur of movement and change.” But those revolutionary changes took years of hard, detailed policy work, much of it in the “long, cold exile of opposition” for 23 years. Moreover, despite the parlous representation of women in Parliament, the judiciary and senior levels of the public service at the time, these changes were co-created in partnership with women who were directly affected by major policy changes. As Plibersek avows, as we now say, Nothing about us, without us.

    Women were brought into the governing apparatus, but were connected to large numbers of women beyond, mobilised through the Women’s Electoral Lobby and the wider congregation of the Women’s Liberation Movement, embracing vibrant, diverse, debating streams of feminists – liberal feminists, radical feminists, socialist feminists. I swam in the latter stream.

    Plibersek draws two great lessons from Gough Whitlam – first that governments must be brave and bold, and second that they must be practical. She quips: “You can buy Blue Poles and sewer Western Sydney.”

    The many contributors chart how expansive this revolution was for women. Legislation and policy changes initiated included:

    • Equal pay for work of equal value, extension of the minimum wage for women, early analyses of the gendered segmentation of the work force and of gaps in pay and superannuation
    • The establishment of paid maternity leave provisions for women working in the Commonwealth Public Service
    • No fault divorce and the establishment of the accessible Family Court system, moving marriage law away from the patriarchal precepts of medieval ecclesiastical courts and Christian notions of guilt
    • Support for women subject to domestic violence, and for divorced, widowed and unmarried mothers, through the Supporting Mothers’ Benefit
    • Provision of broad public health support through Medibank (pushed back under Fraser, but reanimated as Medicare under Hawke) and specific women’s services – cheap, accessible contraceptives, breast screening, pap smears and moves toward to the decriminalisation of abortion (although that was not effected across all states and territories until 2019)
    • Free tertiary education for women and men (precipitating a great wave of university enrolments including many working class and older women)
    • Robust support for the arts – leading to the establishment of the Australia Council, the Australian Film Commission and the Australian Film, Television and Radio School which afforded opportunities for women performers including Cate Blanchett, Margaret Roadknight and Patricia Amphlett (aka Little Pattie)

    And a range of other policy developments: support for the disabled, dedicated urban and regional planning, the end of conscription and the release of draft resisters from prison, all of which had positive effects for women.

    Born in 1949 into a working-class family in Sydney where I was involved in the anti-war movement, the women’s movement and students for a democratic society, I felt viscerally the effects of these revolutionary changes in Australian politics and society. They transformed, indeed revolutionised, my horizons for the future.

    This book consummately charts these revolutionary changes in Australian society – across diverse fields – women’s influence in politics, women and the law, women’s health, welfare, and social policy, women in arts and education. I was sad not to see the latter accompanied by a consideration of the revolutionary changes in higher education – not just in the numbers of women as students and staff but of the radical revolution in knowledge, challenging masculinist disciplines and misogynist practices.

    Still, the book shows the vital connections between these several fields across the broader terrain of Australian society. For example, the changes effected in family law (as remembered by Elizabeth Evatt and Camilla Nelson) were integrally connected with the broader changes in what was happening in socio-economic life and in social values.

    Authors contributing to this book combine moving personal memoir with consummate analysis of the processes they were engaged in and the changes they were precipitating. I especially relished Biff Ward’s evocation of sisterhood in the women’s movement in Canberra in the 1970s and her recollection of the party where the position of a Special Adviser to PM Whitlam was announced – a post awarded to Elizabeth Reid. Less rosy recollections pervade the chapter co-authored by Cathy Eatock and her late mother Pat – a woman who combined strong commitments to women’s rights and Aboriginal rights but who endured domestic abuse, difficulties with caring for a disabled child and homelessness.

    (L to R) Marian Sawer, Elizabeth Reid, Blair Williams, Mare Coleman, Michelle Arrow at the "Women and Whitlam" author event in Canberra. Picture: Supplied

    (L to R) Marian Sawer, Elizabeth Reid, Blair Williams, Mare Coleman, Michelle Arrow at the “Women and Whitlam” author event in Canberra. Picture: Supplied

    She lived for a while at the Women’s Liberation House on Bremmer Street (where she and her kids could only bed down when meetings were over) and with her friend Elizabeth Reid (who was her campaign manager when Pat ran as an Independent for parliament. Pat suffered racist interrogations and vilifications of her Indigenous identity. She eventually won a defamation case against Andrew Bolt.

    There are graphic accounts of media and popular misogyny in the period. There was the snide reporting of women appointed to new well-paid positions in the public service –  sexist jokes proliferated (e.g. to Margaret Reynolds that Chairlady sounded like Charlady). There was the infamous Canberra Times’ reportage on the Women and Politics conference in Canberra in 1975 which brought over 800 women to the capital.

    This occasioned a vigorous protest from many delegates who occupied the newspaper’s offices, demanding professional journalistic standards. Similarly in reports on the International Year of Women, and subsequently the large UN Conference in Mexico in 1975, divisions between women were often exaggerated and amplified. Yet, there were welcome signs of the popular penetration of new values – alongside the “Easy Summer Cooking” in The Women’s Weekly appeared an “Easy Guide to Family Law.”

    I focus finally on the key message for me about that revolutionary period and how this matters in our present feminist moment. Fundamentally, that is the need for sustaining an interaction between a large social movement and bold action at the heart of government. This is a potent double helix. As Elizabeth Reid and Biff Ward so eloquently show us, it was the mobilisation of women in small consciousness-raising groups, where the personal was political, in large meetings and conferences, and on the streets which put pressure on and legitimated this cascade of policy changes.

    The cover of "Women and Whitlam." Picture: Supplied

    The cover of “Women and Whitlam.” Picture: Supplied

    Moreover, in her work as Whitlam’s Special Adviser Elizabeth reached out through consultations with women right across Australia and they reached out to her in a flood of letters. Moreover, although women like her and a number of other women who authored chapters in this book might be recognised as ‘leaders’ in this period, there was a broader feminist ethos which stressed collectivity rather than individualist achievement.

    As Ranuka Tandan persuasively argues in her chapter – a grassroots women’s movement is vital. And a social movement relevant today and resilient in the face of future misogynist pushbacks must be one that embraces women in all their diversity, and that expressly and frankly confronts the entanglement of the oppressions of race and gender. Tandan celebrates First Nations women fighting on the street today.

    We might recall that when Elizabeth Reid made her famous speech at the UN Conference in Mexico she addressed that question, confronting how the feminist perspectives of women differed, diverging between what were then called ‘First World’ and ‘Third World’ (what we might now call minority and majority worlds). It was exciting to be part of that large crowd outside Parliament House in the March4 Justice in 2020 and to witness the incendiary intergenerational outrage which ignited there.

    It is gratifying to see the boldness of young white women like Grace Tame and Britanny Higgins. But, as Ranuka Tandan and Blair Williams argue it is important to work to redress intersecting oppressions and to build and sustain the energy of a large, inclusive social movement, beyond the bright spotlight of the media, and now the relentless spotlight of social and digital media, with its even greater potential for misogyny. As someone who has worked in universities for decades, I end by highlighting how important universities are as sites for transforming knowledge for revolutionary social change, as places where books like this can be created, launched and most importantly read for their insights for our shared feminist futures.

    • Elizabeth Reid was appointed the world’s first advisor on women’s affairs to a head of government by the Australian Labor Government of Gough Whitlam in 1973. Picture: Ginger Gorman  

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  • Tackling our deep discomfort with miscarriage

    Every year miscarriage affects up to 150,000 Australians and the people that love them. So why are we so damned bad at dealing with it? Journalist Isabelle Oderberg has written a groundbreaking book called Hard to Bear. The work investigates the science and silence of miscarriage. BroadAgenda editor, Ginger Gorman, had a chat with Isy about the book’s themes.

    Tell us about your own personal backstory that led you to write “Hard to Bear”.

    During our journey to complete our family, I experienced seven pregnancy losses. Obviously during that time I did a lot of reading in my quest to figure out why my body couldn’t do what I needed it to do. Being open about it publicly meant a lot of other people made disclosures to me about their own experiences. But I didn’t feel comfortable writing about it until our family was complete.

    Once we decided that it was, I started reading again. And I realised that while I had some answers, I also had a lot of questions. And there was a huge amount of work and unpacking to be done in this space. And I thought there was no one better than me to do it, with the lived experience but also the ability to put that aside where necessary and wear my journalism hat to approach the issue with a forensic eye, while never losing sight of the human element.

    There were so many OMG moments that just stopped me in my tracks. Like the moment I realised we had no idea how many people are actually having miscarriages in this country. Absolutely no idea.

    You’ve long been vocal about the silence around miscarriage. Unpick this for us. Why the societal shame and silence? How does your book try to change this? 

    One thing that drives me crazy in this space is acknowledgement of the silence without understanding of why it exists and where it comes from. So that’s a  big part of the book; unpacking it so we can move forward. We have a multitude of issues that feed this silence.

    Miscarriage exists at the intersection of two things we find incredibly uncomfortable in Western society: grief and menstruation. Also it’s wrapped up in Judeo-Christian tradition, abortion and misogyny.

    It certainly wasn’t always this way. I also do a lot of digging around other cultures that treat and talk about it completely differently. I really do find it fascinating.

    Your book is also funny. Why does humour play a role here? 

    I’m Jewish and I draw on a long cultural tradition of irony, satire, self-deprecation and Black humour. There absolutely is a lot of humour in this book, where appropriate. I want people to enjoy reading it to whatever degree that’s possible, without struggling under the weight of a heavy topic. We can acknowledge the sadness of something while still finding ways to smile along the way.

    Your book delves into the science (in addition to telling personal stories). Every year miscarriage affects up to 150,000 Australians and the people that love them. What do we know about why it happens and how it can be prevented? 

    I guess that’s a core part of the book: there is far too much we don’t know. And the things we do know aren’t properly explained to the people birthing the babies or their partners or families. For instance, environmental factors are a huge risk factor. But we don’t talk about it. Also, poverty. Nutrition.

    And as in medicine so often, there are often factors overlaying each other that increase your risk profile. I do examine some of the factors that can contribute, both the commonly known ones and the ones we’re not talking about. But if there was more extensive testing and funding for research, we’d know far more.

    Hard to Bear: Investigating the science and silence of miscarriage (published in April 2023 by Ultimo Press.)

    Hard to Bear: Investigating the science and silence of miscarriage (published in April 2023 by Ultimo Press.)

    How does “medical misogyny” play into this? 

    We know through the work of journalists and authors like Gabrielle Jackson (Pride and Prejudice) and Kylie Maslen (Show Me Where It Hurts) that medical misogyny affects almost all aspects of medical care for women or people with uteruses.

    This was acknowledged by the medical journal The Lancet when it wrote that the era of just telling women to try again after miscarriage is over. This issue affects up to 150,000 Australian families each year (and could be higher, we don’t know). We are decades past the time when we should have started talking about it openly.

    Conversely, what do you have to say about the need medical kindness around instances of miscarriage?

    The Australian medical system is not fit for purpose. It is stretched far too thin. And consecutive governments want to fix it with band-aids, if at all, rather than giving it an overhaul and structuring it from the presence.

    Where there are medical and allied health practitioners who do want to do better (and there are many of them), often they are restricted by structural barriers. And the other thing I would say is that where medical practitioners do express kindness and compassion – I can tell you from the hundreds of patients I’ve spoken to – it is remembered and valued for the rest of our lives.

    What role does hope have in this discourse? 

    This book is aimed at being fully accessible and fully inclusive. We are a village. We have to lift up parents whose journey to children isn’t easy and give them hope. Through sharing my story and doing this research, that’s what I want to do. Otherwise, I’m sharing for the sake of sharing and that’s just not my jam.

    Equally, hope must be felt in our fight to change the system. Because otherwise what’s the point? This book is absolutely a book of hope that aims to improve the experiences of my children and theirs. We can do it. We absolutely can.

     

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  • Jeremy Vine’s ‘brain dribbles out of his ears’ as he exposes his own racism live on TV

    On Friday 31 March, former BBC host and now C5 presenter Jeremy Vine did little to dispel the notion that old, white, middle-class men are a scourge on society. He inanely mansplained to a woman, while indirectly arguing with the dictionary as well – all live on his TV show. Vine also showed a clear whiff of racism, too – unsurprisingly. It was all over the word ‘woke’.

    Vine: schooled in the word ‘woke’

    During 31 March’s episode of Jeremy Vine On 5, author and broadcaster Natasha Devon was on. The discussion turned to wokeness. Devon asked Vine to “define what woke is”. The host floundered, spouting something about:

    Woke is basically when you sort of, y’know, you kind-of read the Guardian and this and that…

    It literally isn’t that, Vine – as Devon went onto explain:

    Woke is actually and African-American term. It means to be awake to injustice in society. If you’re woke it just means you’re not racist, homophobic or misogynist.

    As Vox wrote, the use of woke in this context dates back to the 1920s:

    In 1923, a collection of aphorisms and ideas by the Jamaican philosopher and social activist Marcus Garvey included the summons “Wake up Ethiopia! Wake up Africa!” as a call to global Black citizens to become more socially and politically conscious. A few years later, the phrase “stay woke” turned up as part of a spoken afterword in the 1938 song “Scottsboro Boys,” a protest song by Blues musician Huddie Ledbetter, a.k.a. Lead Belly. The song describes the 1931 saga of a group of nine Black teenagers in Scottsboro, Arkansas, who were accused of raping two white women.

    So, woke comes from Black people resisting colonialism, white supremacy, and slavery. It’s entered more widespread use since the Black Lives Matter movement rose to prominence in the previous decade. Naturally, the right wing and liberals have jumped on the term with their usual racist and classist shithousery – and intentionally weaponised it to mean something its not.

    So, you’d think as an experienced broadcaster, Vine would know the etymology of the word woke – and therefore accept Devon’s correct explanation. But Vine is an old, middle-class white man – so of course he didn’t.

    Exposing your own racism and misogyny, Jeremy Vine-style

    The host said in response to Devon’s explanation:

    In YOUR [his accent, not the Canary’s] definition it means that, but not to everyone.

    Devon seemed to want to try and tell him that her definition was literally the dictionary’s one. Because it actually is. But even then, Vine still wouldn’t have it, saying:

    No, no – not to everyone. It’s come to mean something else.

    No, it fucking hasn’t Vine. Racist, homophobic and misogynistic people have hijacked it to mean something else. The rest of us are very clear on the definition – as people on social media pointed out:

    Vine gave the distinct impression he’s a bit racist and misogynistic, too. Black people couldn’t possibly have their own words, and a woman couldn’t possibly be right on what they mean – could they, Jeremy?

    However, old white men exposing their extremely unpleasant underbellies via the corporate media is hardly new:

    Herein lies the problem.

    Devon was articulate, accurate, and measured in her response. Vine was ignorant, racist and misogynistic in his. Clearly, his bosses realised his behaviour was rancid – or they were trying to silence people’s anger. The tweet from the official Jeremy Vine On 5 Twitter account that had the clip of the exchange in it had been deleted by 4pm on Friday 31 March.

    Yet despite all this, he is the one whose name is on the TV show, and it’s his old white ass that’s sat in the host’s chair. Colonialism, where white people (driven by white supremist patriarchy) still hold the keys of power, remains rampant across society – and TV is a microcosm of this. While Vine’s pathetic performance on his show may seem inconsequential, it actually sums up the colonialist mess we’re living in.

    Feature image via Jeremy Vine On 5 – YouTube

    By Steve Topple

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • Equality in public life. Why does it matter?

    This week I was one of the fortunate attendees at the World Premiere of Julia, at the Canberra Theatre Centre. The remarkable script about a remarkable life was given wings through an extraordinary performance.

    The play received three standing ovations at the first show on Tuesday and three more on Thursday. Justine Clake and Jessica Bentley played the lead roles in Joanna Murray-Smith‘s incredible work. The subject of the production is the cultural wall of misogyny which threw itself at former  Prime Minister Julia Gillard.

    Even though we knew the ending already, or so we thought, Julia held us in thrilled suspense as it relived the days and years leading up to the “Not Now. Not Ever” speech.

    It took an emotional toll watching the unfolding torrent of vile abuse hurtled at the PM. The production, directed by Sarah Goodes created a powerful wave of emotion which leapt off the script and was met by the audience when Clarke landed “the” speech. It dropped me back to the 2019 Women’s March in front of Parliament House. A similar welling up of outrage and inspiration generated by the courage of one women standing up and saying: “I. Will. Not”. 

    There was a pulsing hum at the play “Julia” that was similar in tone to March for Justice in March 2021 (where protestors in 40 Australian cities campaigned on issues of gendered harassment and assault).

    It’s the intuitive rise in consciousness and energy sourced deep in shared experience between people realising they are among others who have also experienced pervasive devaluing of their humanity. There’s a euphoric liberation of being among your people. The rallying cry seems to be: “We Will Not”. 

    "Julia" is a new play by Joanna Murray-Smith in which Justine Clarke (Children of the Sun) embodies the life and career that led to former Prime Minister Julia Gillard's ‘misogyny speech.’ Picture Martin Ollman/Museum of Australian Democracy

    “Julia” is a new play by Joanna Murray-Smith in which Justine Clarke (Children of the Sun) embodies the life and career that led to former Prime Minister Julia Gillard’s ‘misogyny speech.’ Picture Martin Ollman/Museum of Australian Democracy

    So why am I writing this? I’m not a theatre critic. Far from it.  I direct, among other things, a program at University of Canberra which was inspired by the treatment of women in the political arena. Specifically, the lack of gender equality in political office, the sexist barriers which have maintained it and the appalling impact this inequality has on our community. 

    Our Pathways to Politics Program for Women, is a national, proudly non-partisan initiative that aims to change the face of politics by equipping women with the skills, knowledge, confidence and networks they need to run for elected office and thrive as political leaders. Dr Meredith Martin from University of Melbourne has previously written in BroadAgenda about the commencement of Pathways at University of Canberra. 

    In my view, Julia canvasses the myriad of reasons why is gender equality in political office is so. When women hold political leadership, it is good for democracy, for communities and results in better governance.

    A report by Kings College which examined 500 pieces of research into the impacts of women leaders found:

    • Women policy makers prioritise issues that benefit the most vulnerable in society, such as healthcare, welfare and education. As such, more women leaders seem to make for more equal and caring societies;
    • Women may be more likely to focus on these issues because they have greater experience of deprivation, and because they are often responsible for caring for others;
    • On average, women work harder than men to represent their constituencies, which is linked to a stronger sense among voters that government is responsive to their needs;
    • Increased representation of women in elected office is associated with counteracting corruption and focusing resources on the quality and consistency of public service delivery;
    • States where women hold more political power are less likely to go to war and less likely to commit human rights abuses;
    • Women bring collaborative and inclusive leadership styles into political environments that are often characterised by division and one-upmanship.

    These results are not surprising to those who have been fighting for more diversity, inclusion and equality at every decision making table. Without women, governments who are in the market for ideas will not understand the gendered impact of their choices, or worse, may choose solutions steeped in misogyny. 

    The terrible impacts of sexist policy, such as Robodebt, become obvious when we listen to the voices of people who were caught in its pernicious trap. The system design being revealed in the Robodebt Royal Commission started with a particular view about the people – mostly single women with children – who receive income support payments; that they are lazy, untrustworthy cheats.

    Robodebt did exactly what those in the market looking for a solution to “the problem” wanted it to do. It treated people like lazy liars who steal from the system and it punished them. 

    Sam Mostyn, Australian businesswoman and climate change and gender equity advocate, speaking at the National Press Club. Picture: Hilary Wardhaugh

    Sam Mostyn, Australian businesswoman and climate change and gender equity advocate, speaking at the National Press Club. Picture: Hilary Wardhaugh

    On 9 March the Chair of the Women’s Economic Equality Taskforce, Sam Mostyn delivered an address at the National Press Club outlining the Taskforce’s recommendations. This group of women brought a spectrum of expertise to their year of listening to women share their lived experiences of  what is holding them back and what needs to be done. 

    Mostyn’s speech as always, was so reasonable in its delivery that it was irresistible. She landed a beautifully righteous feminist agenda which was both compelling and full of grace. 

    “The starting point” she said, “is the vital importance of women….We know what needs to be done and what is utterly essential to lift women out of poverty”.

    “The challenge” she said, is: “Do we, as a nation have the courage to act?” Mostyn issued a personal challenge to all of us: “Do you care and what are you prepared to do?” 

    Applications are now open for Pathways to Politics in every state and territory (except Tasmania). Apply here.

    Programs like Pathways to Politics is rising to that call. Pathways is delivering change which, like the metaphorical flowers in Julia, are growing, literally before our eyes. There are now over 350 graduates of the program who will be joined by over 130 each year with the national expansion.

    In just a few years, alum have achieved electoral successes at every level with more standing at every election. We are creating a network of women who are skilled up, connected, collegiate and energised. It is putting more women, especially those who also bring diversity in their economic background, race and sexuality at decision making tables where they have previously been absent or alone.

    Women in numbers, change the narrative. When the marketplace of ideas includes women’s experience, we change the direction and focus. The evidence is that women decision makers bring their experience as care givers, of living in poverty and of fighting the tide of sexism into their policy making.

    Would a diverse group of women have started from the view that income support recipients are unworthy? Would they have purchased a solution which treated people like criminals? Not Now. Not Ever.

    “Sexism is boring,” said Clarke. That line in Julia sums it up. Indeed sexism is boring. It’s also hurting us and holding us back. We all deserve better. As Mostyn recounted in her speech, “gender equality should be as normal as drinking water.” Achieving gender equality in political office is vital to all of our futures and it will require women in numbers to make and secure long term change. We must be at every decision making table.

     

    • Picture at top: “Julia” is a new play by Joanna Murray-Smith in which Justine Clarke (Children of the Sun) embodies the life and career that led to former Prime Minister Julia Gillard’s ‘misogyny speech.’ Picture Martin Ollman/Museum of Australian Democracy

    The post Equality in public life. Why does it matter? appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Spain has got its very own SpyCops scandal and it’s looking as bad as the UK’s one

    The Spanish state and its police force is caught up in a Spycops scandal. Women have accused an undercover police officer of sexual abuse, after he infiltrated activist groups. Another cop has been found to have been spying on protesters. Now, a third case in Spain has been reported. This should all sound very familiar – as it reeks of what happened in the UK.

    Spain’s own Spycops

    Six women have alleged that an undercover police officer sexually abused them. The cop reportedly infiltrated far-left and green groups. He coerced the women to have sex with him to win their trust and gain information. One woman says the officer abused her for nearly a year. They all argue their sexual consent was obtained on the basis of lies. As El Nacional reported, the cop went by the name Daniel Hernández Pons. He:

    was 31 years old and applied himself conscientiously to the role; he had tattoos, dyed his hair and was well-educated in the cause, especially in libertarian and anarchist issues. His entry point was the gym of a busy squatter social centre, from where he built a character who gained the trust of other activists, according to La Directa. He began to have a social life and gradually joined groups and became just one more member of the ecosystem of these alternative left groups in the city of Barcelona. He even got to be responsible for the keys to some squatted premises and social centres…

    However, this was not the only case. El Nacional noted that in 2022:

    it emerged that an officer originally from the Balearic Islands had been able to infiltrate social groups such as the Catalan countries students’ union (SEPC) and the Jovent Republicanà – the ERC party’s youth division – posing as an activist despite being, in reality, a newly-graduated Spanish police officer.

    This cop went by the name Marc Hernàndez Pon. However, in these cases people have so far not come forward with allegations of sexual abuse against him. But now, the scandal has further deepened. The Madrid branch of Extinction Rebellion said last week it had been infiltrated by a female police officer. It alleged that she “had sexual relations with at least one of its members”. Moreover, all this comes after Spain’s central government admitted last year that it spied on the mobile phones of 18 Catalan separatist leaders. It used Israeli spyware Pegasus.

    “Disgusted and helpless”

    The undercover cops revelations are in the public domain thanks to Catalan media outlet La Directa. It interviewed one of the survivors of the cops’ alleged abuse. She told La Directa that the experience:

    has caused me a lot of fear and anxiety. Now, when I see a policeman I get very nervous, and it has also affected my confidence. I have felt very used, she has used us as women and as activists, and this makes me feel very disgusted and helpless. If he wanted to investigate us, which I think would be just as serious, there was no need for him to generate such intense relationships, he has done many things that were not necessary.

    One of the women’s lawyers is Mireia Salazar. She told Agence France-Press (AFP) the goal of the complaint was “to know how far these practices go, which in our opinion, have no legal justification.” Meanwhile, politicians have begun to ask questions. Gabriel Rufian, a top lawmaker with Catalan separatist party ERC asked Spain’s prime minister Pedro Sanchez:

    Where is your moral limit, where is your ethical limit? It is not just a threat to political freedoms, ideological freedoms, but also – it seems – sexual freedoms.

    Coalition party Podemos‘s secretary of state of equality Angela Rodriguez said:

    It is violence against women… And I think that the sooner that we know what happened and justice can be done, the better it will be for the reputation of security agencies.

    UK undercover policing: writing the manual?

    Of course, the situation in Spain has echoes of the UK Spycops scandal. As the Canary has documented, this extensive scandal has been ongoing for years – since at least 2003. Tom Coburg previously wrote about Mark Kennedy, one of the cops central to the scandal. He sexually abused several women as an undercover officer (UCO). Coburg noted that:

    At least two UCOs are known to have fathered children with women activists. Other UCOs known to have used sex to gather intelligence include ‘Carlo Neri’, Andy Coles (‘Andy Davey’) and ‘Vince Miller‘. Miller deceived and had sex with four women, including ‘Madeleine’.

    He also noted that:

    Kennedy is known to have spied on several protest groups, most of which were environmental groups. His undercover work was prolific and took place in England as well as Scotland, Northern Ireland, Germany, Denmark, France, the USA, and Iceland.

    Currently, there is an inquiry in the UK over the Spycops scandal. 27 women are giving evidence. However, as one of the survivors of Kennedy’s abuse, Kate Wilson, wrote for the Guardian, the Spycops scandal runs far deeper:

    These [undercover] police units illegally blacklisted trade union activists, and they spied on elected politicians, the families of victims of police violence and many campaign or protest groups. They used the identities of dead children with no thought for their families, they violated lawyer-client privilege and caused countless miscarriages of justice, and they sexually abused women.

    Police: functioning how they’re designed to

    Now, the Spanish state appears to have been copying the UK’s grotesque lead. As one of the survivors of Daniel Hernández Pons‘s abuse told La Directa:

    It’s hard for me to understand that level of involvement in people’s lives and it reminds me of his insistence on being with me, his insistence that he loved me and wanted to be in a relationship. He actually got to meet my parents and my sister. If I had known he was a cop, I would never have had a relationship with him… Nothing justifies the State and the police interfering in my life. I feel like I’ve been raped, I’ve been with someone I now realize I didn’t know and it creates a lot of fear.

    As always, this emerging information from Spain shows that this is not some ‘bad apple’ incident. The global system of policing is designed for this purpose – to protect the state and its interests at all costs. In the case of Spanish and UK Spycops, this involves sexual abuse and rampant misogyny. Meanwhile, with the UK’s Metropolitan Police, it uses institutionalised anti-Blackness, racism, and homophobia as well, to carry out its functions. So, the problem is the same the world over. How Spain deals with this latest iteration of police violence will be closely watched.

    Featured image and additional reporting via Agence France-Presse

    By Steve Topple

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • What can we learn from sport governance challenges?

    FIFA’s threat to withdraw its recognition of its member federation, Football Australia, prompted gender equality measures to be adopted. This governance crisis led to the establishment of a Congress Review Working Group. (FIFA stands for The Fédération internationale de football association is the international governing body of association football, beach soccer, and futsal.)

    The Working Group recommendations led to significant structural change including mandated gender equality measures. A range of measures have been outlined in my recent research paper which is intended to be a roadmap for other sports to follow, including:

    1. Quota Percentages

    2. ‘Different Genders’ Mandated for Specified Positions

    3. Expanding the pie: Quotas by Numbers and/or Female Only Positions

    4. Graduated / Staggered Quotas

    5. Applying the ‘Rooney Rule’ to gender and the ‘Inclusion Rider’ to sport

    6. Transparency and Inclusive Language

    7. Other options including training and term lengths

     

    The report, Better Together: Increasing Male Engagement in Gender Equality Efforts in Australia, found that most men (76%) are gender equality supporters, but few (17%) prioritise taking action.  This serves to explain why the status quo, of ‘pale, male and stale’ [plus ‘able-bodied’ and ‘heterosexual’] has been very difficult to shift.  This report also recommended that male engagement could be achieved by ‘mak[ing] it easy’.  

    In the recent Football Australia governance crisis, advocacy group, Women Onside, sought to assist the Working Group established by the international federation, FIFA, through providing practical, ‘easy’ solutions.

    If you are also grappling with how to create structural changes to your organisation to achieve gender equality, particularly if your organisation exists within a federated model, then some of the following case studies and research presented by Women Onside may provide ideas and inspiration:

    1. Quota Percentages

    The Australian Sports Commission 40% target was tied to funding, but the threatened ‘stick’ was not ever implemented. Instead, while noting the challenges around quotas in a federated system, a 40:40:20 requirement was recommended for the entire football ecosystem.  This mechanism was successfully adopted by Paddling Australia.

    2. ‘Different Genders’ Mandated for Specified Positions

    It can be constitutionally required that, for example, the Chair and Deputy Chair roles are ‘different’ genders.  This is preferable to the ‘both genders’ binary format, but is insufficient as a standalone strategy to create gender equality (eg: the Australian Olympic Committee Athletes’ Commission provision alone would only lead to a 30% outcome).  

    3. Expanding the pie: Quotas by Numbers and/or Female Only Positions

    Boards have traditionally been made up of representative positions, and in some cases each of the Standing Committee Chairs (including the Women’s Committee) have had a vote on the executive (eg: Capital Football).  Expanding the board to create ‘women only’ board positions, avoids the threat of an incumbent losing ‘his’ seat.  For example, the FIFA Statute requires that each of its six Confederations: ‘elect at least one female member to the Council’.  Any Confederation failing to elect a woman will have that seat ‘deemed forfeited’ until the next round of elections.  However, this ‘female member’ mechanism only guarantees that there will be a minimum of 16% female representation.  

    The idea of ‘expanding the pie’ has also been explored in the entertainment industry, where researchers promote the idea of ‘Just Add 5’ to address the finding that women have made up less than 30% of speaking roles in the top 100 US films each year for decades.  Achieving gender equality by 2020 would have required expanding the FFA Congress to twenty and adding five women each year.  To achieve this in a contested election requires a: ‘first past the post, provided you are a woman’ rule.  This is used by the AOC Athletes’ Commission.  Of the eight athletes elected at the Summer Olympic Games, it was mandated that there must be: ‘not less than three males and not less than three females’ and the Winter Olympic Games elected representatives: ‘must comprise one of each sex’.  This means that those athletes receiving the most votes may not necessarily be elected.  Where there is a tie, the youngest candidate wins; thereby also assisting with age diversity affirmative action. 

    4. Graduated / Staggered Quotas

    Following the major governance failures and corruption within the International Association of Athletics Federation [IAAF, now World Athletics], 95% of the IAAF Special Congress supported the recommended reforms.  Since 1 January 2019, the IAAF Council mandated a graduated gender balance.  Although still couched in binary terms (which is significant given the challenges in athletes for intersex athletes), the amended Constitution sets out the minimum number of women required to occupy the seats on the IAAF Council and the Executive Board.  Maria Clarke, IAAF governance reform Chair, hopes this created a ‘gender leadership’ environment.  At the 2023 Election, there will be a minimum of ten of each gender elected from amongst the total of twenty-six Council members.  At the 2027 Election, the Council will be 50-50, and the IAAF Executive Board (total of 9) must consist of three members of each gender.  (NOTE: A graduated approach, by adding one ‘female only’ position to the FFA Congress each year until the ideal of fifty-fifty is reached, would have taken a decade to achieve).

    5. Applying the ‘Rooney Rule’ to gender and the ‘Inclusion Rider’ to sport

    The Rooney Rule was designed as an equity measure for black and Latino men applying for coaching and team management positions in the US National Football League [NFL].  The Rooney Rule concept has effectively been applied to the corporate sphere to achieve gender equality, for example: then Australia Post CEO, Christine Holgate, required that head-hunters have a female on the short list for every role.  Going even further, Mirvac CEO, Susan Lloyd-Hurwitz, required that every senior role short list be 50-50.

    Called the ‘Inclusion Rider’, entertainment industry ‘stars’ are encouraged to include a clause requiring broad race, gender and ability demographics in both onscreen and off-screen staff.  The idea of having influential people in positions of power stipulating express diversity requirements in their own contracts was given prominence at the 2018 Hollywood’s Oscars by Frances McDormand.  A similar call has been made for invited (male) speakers to refuse to attend male only conferences and panels [‘Manels’].  In sport, the players’ associations can use their leverage to negotiate with the national bodies and the clubs, not only for pay parity, but to demand that there be women in governance and in operational positions.  

    6. Transparency and Inclusive Language

    It was recommended that football stakeholders be required to include gender statistics in their annual reports on their websites.  For example, Basketball Australia publishes its Board Charter, a de-identified Director Position Profile and Skills Matrix, and female representation statistics.  Advertising all roles, including detailed job descriptions, should also be standard.  Research by Gaucher et al., (2011) found that to attract female candidates to positions, on an equal basis to men, requires inclusive language on websites and in recruitment documentation.  Inclusive language can be identified using tools, such as the Gender Decoder.

    7. Other options including training and term lengths

    Other change mechanisms include mandating term lengths (ASC 2015), ethical leadership (Ordway and Opie 2017) and ‘entitlement’ training, mentoring and sponsorship (ie: shepherding), pay parity and equal media representation.  World Athletics funds targeted recruitment and training programs and has established the Gender Leadership Taskforce to work with the IAAF Women’s Committee and male advocates to identify and upskill women with potential.  Changing structures, and influencing individual and institutional mindsets, rather than focusing only on changing women, is required.

    If you have come across other best practices that have worked, we’d love to hear them. Please email through to: catherine.ordway@canberra.edu.au

    • Please note image at top is a stock photo (Female Soccer player in action on a professional soccer stadium).

     

    The post What can we learn from sport governance challenges? appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • ‘No Births Behind Bars’: the scandal of imprisoning pregnant women in the UK

    Content warning: This article contains mention of infant death. 

    Nearly every week another imprisoned pregnant woman gives birth in the UK. She will go into labour in her prison cell and call for help. If her call is answered, and the prison guard believes that she’s in labour, she will – after being body searched by an officer – be taken to hospital in handcuffs to give birth while two police guards stand over her. This is the best case scenario.

    The worst case scenario is when a pregnant woman calls for help and the prison guard doesn’t believe she is in labour. Or her calls for help are ignored altogether and her baby dies. So, a campaign group is drawing attention to the issue and calling for change. However, the wider context to the criminal justice system incarcerating pregnant women is one of gross negligence and abject failure.

    ‘No more babies in prisons’

    On Saturday 18 March, a group of mothers, babies and toddlers from the #NoBirthBehindBars campaign group marked the Mother’s Day weekend. They staged a protest outside the Royal Courts of Justice. It was in solidarity with imprisoned pregnant women across the UK:

    Babies, children and their parents rallied outside the Royal Courts of Justice in London to demand an end to the imprisonment of pregnant women, London, UK Saturday, March 18, 2023 The protest was organised by No Births Behind Bars and Level Up.

    The group held up signs reading “No Babies in Prisons” and “Prison is No Place for Mums and Kids”. They also sang nursery rhymes in the London drizzle. People called for no more births behind bars – while the babies and toddlers dressed in yellow and green in honour of Mother’s Day:

    Babies, children and their parents rallied outside the Royal Courts of Justice in London to demand an end to the imprisonment of pregnant women, London, UK Saturday, March 18, 2023 The protest was organised by No Births Behind Bars and Level Up.

    The protest, organised by feminist collective Level Up, called for a statutory duty for judges and magistrates to take pregnancy and parenthood into consideration when sentencing women. However, the overarching aim of the #NoBirthBehindBars campaign is to end the practice of sending pregnant women and new mothers to prison altogether:

    Babies, children and their parents rallied outside the Royal Courts of Justice in London to demand an end to the imprisonment of pregnant women, London, UK Saturday, March 18, 2023 The protest was organised by No Births Behind Bars and Level Up.

    The seriousness of the situation is reflected in recent incidents of babies dying.

    Children are dying

    In 2019, an 18-year-old woman gave birth alone, without any medical assistance, in her prison cell in HMP Bronzefield prison in Surrey. Her calls for help were ignored, and her child – known as Baby A – died. A Prisons and Probation Ombudsman report found a series of failings in the teenager’s treatment. Prison staff working on her block were not aware that she was due to give birth imminently, and no one had a full history of her pregnancy.

    In 2020, a 31-year-old woman gave birth to a premature baby in the toilet of her prison cell in HMP Styal in Cheshire. The baby died following delays in getting medical care immediately after the birth and failure to perform CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation). The mother’s solicitor said expert evidence revealed the baby could have survived if she had received immediate medical care.

    Research from the Nuffield Trust found that one in 10 imprisoned women who give birth in prison do not make it to hospital, and give birth in their cell or in transit to the hospital. Moreover, the Ombudsman report into the death of Baby A in HMP Bronzefield in 2019 found that all pregnancies in prison are:

    high risk by virtue of the fact that the woman is locked behind a door for a significant amount of time.

    Meanwhile, several countries – including Brazil and Mexico – have specific laws to prevent the incarceration of pregnant women. Yet the UK government has failed to follow suit.

    ‘Never a safe place’

    Janey Starling, co-director of Level Up, told the Canary:

    Prison will never be a safe place for pregnant woman… [However] there’s nothing that mandates a judge to take pregnancy into consideration when sentencing a woman. We know that pregnant women in prison are five times more likely to suffer a stillbirth, and twice as likely to give birth to a premature baby that will need special care. Ultimately, sending any pregnant woman to prison is a barbaric practice.

    In 2022, Level Up, the Royal College of Midwives, Tommy’s, and other organisations wrote an open letter to then-justice secretary Brandon Lewis and the chair of the Sentencing Council. It called for an end to the imprisonment of pregnant women. However, the latest figures show that 50 pregnant women gave birth within the prison system in 2021-22. So, it seems the government is doing little to prevent these vulnerable women from entering prison in the first place.

    Research from the Prison Trust shows that 72% of women sentenced to prison are given short sentences for non-violent offences. Theft is the most common offence. It estimated that around 60% of women in prison are survivors of domestic abuse. The research said 71% of them live with a mental health condition. Moreover, 48% of the women in prison committed their offence to support someone else’s drug use.

    Starling further said:

    the stories of pregnant women in prisons are often ones of poverty and trauma and a desperate need of support, not incarceration.

    Suzy’s story

    There are also significant numbers of women in prison on remand. Suzy (we’ve changed her name to protect her identity) is a 32-year-old mother from the Southeast. The courts detained her on remand during her pregnancy. She was moved several times from one group cell to another. Suzy told the Canary:

    I remember, as I was climbing on to a top bunk another inmate telling me ‘you really shouldn’t be here’. And it was so cold in my cell. It was winter and I wasn’t allowed a duvet, just a thin sheet. The prison guards wouldn’t let me go to the gym or even read my university books. I should’ve been eating for two but they wouldn’t give me any extra food. The other women were worried about me and gave me their leftovers.

    One evening I felt this terrible abdominal pain and called for help. I had started bleeding too. The officers just treated me like I was an inconvenience. Hours passed before they finally took me to hospital. I was body searched and put in handcuffs, it was so humiliating. Everyone at the hospital was staring at me. I was scared that my baby had died. In the police van on the way back one of the officers said to me casually ‘maybe it just wasn’t meant to be’. She was so uncaring. I heard them complain that this hospital visit delayed the end of their shift.

    And then the next morning, I was lying in bed, the blood was still on my sheets and the prison guards shouted at me to get up and start cleaning or they’d sanction me. Thankfully the other women came to help me clean up. I couldn’t do it by myself, I was too tired and upset. A couple of days later I went for a scan. Thankfully the baby was fine but the sonographer had to ask the two prison guards, one male and one female, to stand outside of the curtain while I received an intimate examination. That’s how invasive they are.

    Suzy was later released and found not guilty of the crime she’d been accused of. However, her story is not uncommon.

    Prisons: a ‘terrible environment’ for pregnant women

    Dr Laura Abbott is a midwife and associate professor at Hertfordshire University. She has interviewed dozens of pregnant women in UK prisons through her academic research. Abbott was “pretty horrified” by what she discovered. She told the Canary:

    I met pregnant women who had become sick and dehydrated because they weren’t getting enough food and water. Some women were not receiving medication they’d been prescribed by a doctor before they came in.

    There can be a culture in some prisons of staff making a point of not giving pregnant women any ‘special treatment’, but this is putting their health at risk. It’s also a terrible environment for their mental health. The women I interviewed experienced high levels of shame, stress and fear during their pregnancies.

    Abbott said that around 50% of imprisoned women who give birth have their applications for a space in a Mother and Baby Unit rejected. This means their baby is taken away and put into foster or kinship care. She told the Canary:

    These women are often on suicide watch, as the separation has such a severe impact on their mental health.

    A report last year by the government’s chief social worker Isabelle Trowler found significant issues and inconsistencies with the decision-making process for Mother and Baby Unit applications. Director of charity Birth Companions, Naomi Delap, told the Canary:

    I worry there are still decisions being made where the baby should not be taken away from their mother. Any separation of mother and baby has a profound impact. Even one (wrong) decision is devastating.

    Birth Companions was set up in the 1990s. It was in the wake of a Channel Four documentary that revealed pregnant women from Holloway prison were being made to give birth in shackles at the Whittington hospital in north London. Delap said a different approach is needed for both remand and sentencing:

    Practically speaking, this means a greater commitment to funding and using community alternatives, and a specific mitigating factor (for sentencing) against imprisonment based on pregnancy. Remand and recall must be actively prohibited for pregnant and postnatal women in all but the most exceptional circumstances.

    Despite all this, the government is adamant all is well with the situation for pregnant women and their babies.

    The government says…

    The Ministry of Justice (MoJ) maintains that judges already take pregnancy into account when sentencing women. A spokesperson told the Canary:

    Independent judges already consider mitigating factors when making sentencing decisions, including pregnancy, and custody is always the last resort for women.

    We have already taken decisive action to improve the support available for women, including specialist mother and baby liaison officers in every women’s prison, additional welfare observations and better screening and social services support so that pregnant prisoners get the care they require.

    However, Starling said there have been too many cases of women losing their children after short prison sentences:

    Even three months is enough time to lose your job and home. So when a woman is then released she’s been completely uprooted and lost everything.

    And it’s such a vicious cycle because to get your baby back you need to have a home… It just sends women into a spiral and rips them out from their communities and away from their support network. And ultimately, in the bigger picture, what’s it all for? Truly, what’s it all for?

    It would be great to see the government take their poverty away, not their children.

    A ‘stain’ on the justice system

    This Mother’s Day the #NoBirthsBehindBars campaign had its first birthday. Over the past year campaigning mothers and babies held protests at Parliament Square, the Royal Courts of Justice, and even staged a breastfeeding ‘sit in’ at the MoJ. But as Aisha Dodwell, one of the campaigning mothers, told the Canary:

    It’s a stain on this country’s justice system that we need to even be protesting to demand no more babies be born in prison.

    Ultimately, the campaigners hope that next Mother’s Day there’ll be no need to protest. They hope the government sees sense and stops sending pregnant women to prison altogether. You can sign the campaign’s latest petition here.

    Featured image and additional image via Elizabeth Dalziel 

    By Kate Bermingham

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • How women’s decisions about breastfeeding are made for them

    Much discussion around breastfeeding is about women’s choice to breastfeed or not. But who really decides on how a baby is fed when a $55 billion industry is at stake?

    A new series of studies published in The Lancet shows how baby food corporations influence infant feeding practices both nationally and globally, working through systems of power which are both direct and indirect, and highly gendered. Through these systems, a commercial ecosystem favourable to early weaning and sales of commercial milk formula (CMF) products is established. You can watch the Australasia & Pacific launch event of the 2023 Lancet Breastfeeding Series here.

    Overall the Series helps to understand the commercial actors and structural forces that influence feeding practices across entire populations, and put an end to unhelpful and deeply unfair narratives that place responsibility for infant and young child feeding solely onto women and families. Authors call for wide-ranging actions that end this harmful commercial influence.

    Gendered power systems exploit vulnerabilities and policy gaps to shape breastfeeding practices 

    Sales of CMF products have been booming and are now $55 billion of global retail sales a year. The industry spends least $3 billion a year on marketing. This marketing spend completely swamps any spending by governments around the world on protecting, promoting and supporting breastfeeding. 

    Targeting parental anxieties and protecting breastfeeding effectively

    The first paper in the Lancet series identifies concerning global trends and patterns in breastfeeding, and describes how typical infant behaviours are commonly misinterpreted as signs of insufficient or inadequate milk, and result in early use of breastmilk substitutes, and disruption of lactation. 

    New mothers and their infants and young children are well understood to be uniquely vulnerable to marketing. For this reason governments have agreed globally since 1981 that promotion of breastmilk substitutes should not be allowed. This agreement, including numerous subsequent Resolutions by the World Health Assembly, is known as the International Code of Marketing of Breast-milk Substitutes. The Code covers specialised formulas, products known as ‘growing up’ or ‘toddler’ milks/formulas, and formula products for infants in the first year.

    Women and children have specific human rights related to good quality maternity care that enables well informed decisions about breastfeeding made free from commercial influence. Women’s rights to adequate maternity protection in the workplace, freedom from discrimination and to a friendly environment for breastfeeding are also well documented. Furthermore, breastfeeding provides for realising the optimal reproductive health of women, as well as being the best way for the child to survive and grow.

    The measures needed to provide an enabling environment for breastfeeding are well known but not widely implemented, and include the Baby Friendly Hospital Initiative, the International Labor Organization’s standards for maternity protections in employment, and Code implementation. 

    Baby and toddler food selection in a supermarket in Toronto, Canada. Picture: Shutterstock

    Baby and toddler food selection in a supermarket in Toronto, Canada. Picture: Shutterstock

    The marketing playbook 

    Medical researchers have demonstrated that pharmaceutical companies use ‘disease mongering’ to promote sales of drugs, but less well known is how the CMF industry also pathologizes normal infant behaviour in order to create and reinforce parental anxieties and promote sales of high priced baby milk products.

    The second paper in the Lancet series describes how the marketing playbook for formula products exploits the common vulnerabilities and anxieties of parents, and plugs gaps in policies and programs needed to support women to breastfeed. For example, CMF products including specialised formulas are offered to women and health professionals as solutions to pathologized infant behaviours such as crying, fussing or sleeplessness, or in response to anxieties about insufficient milk or allergy. 

    With only around 10% of births in facilities meeting BFHI standards for staff competencies on breastfeeding, and adopting Code provisions for health workers, health professionals are commonly poorly equipped to help women manage these issues. It is not unusual for industry to provide their continuing medical education on infant and young child feeding. 

    Indeed, health professionals are a central to formula marketing and are viewed as key ‘category entry points’. Marketing also occurs via influence on scientific research and medical guidelines, as well as industry support and sponsorship for health professional journals, conferences and medical organisations.

    Marketing is also shown to use gender, positioning formula as ‘liberation in a can’, especially for women’s labour force participation and upward mobility. Breastfeeding and thereby women’s bodies, are portrayed as inherently difficult, unreliable, and inconvenient.  Formula is offered as a lifestyle choice and a solution to all difficulties of infant care, while breastfeeding advocacy is framed as harmful moral judgement that causes women to feel guilty. 

    Confrontational messaging depicting “mommy wars” (for example, the Sisterhood of Motherhood advert) divides women by challenging the importance of breastfeeding, and depicting public health messages as anti-feminist. Such industry messaging turns attention towards individual ‘choice’, and – importantly – away from structural factors and policy gaps which constrain women’s decisions on infant feeding. It emphasises breastfeeding as individual women’s responsibility, rather than a narrative that bearing and rearing children is a collective responsibility.

    Two-faced and gendered corporate power systems

    The global boom of milk formula sales has resulted in immense power of formula companies to shape the ‘ecosystem’ for women’s infant feeding decisions, using the same industry ‘playbook’. This extends to stakeholder marketing whereby the power of the industry is used to influence the regulatory and policy environment at global and national levels in their own interests. Women’s voices may be unrepresented in such processes.

    For many decades, the public face of the formula industry has been that of benevolence and corporate social responsibility, including the companies stating their so-called commitments to breastfeeding. 

    Less visible are corporations’ political activities to shape the infant feeding  culture or ‘ecosystem’, including extensive lobbying by an international network of front groups that often operate covertly to block or delay marketing regulations. These more hidden political activities undermine and under-resource the structural supports for breastfeeding in health systems, employment and public financing. 

    Industry lobbying against marketing regulations is well documented, but the size of baby food market is also affected by other public policies.  Industry discussions are open about how they use parental fatigue and uncertainty to sell their product – ‘what we are selling is actually sleep”. 

    In Australia, a 2016 baby food market report highlighted that changes to the paid parental leave policy ‘would influence whether breastfeeding was feasible’; longer leave would decrease sales, while ‘assisting the return to work would have the opposite impact’ . In Ireland, industry lobby groups including global formula companies have cautioned against maternity protection reforms and opposed extension of breastfeeding breaks.

    ‘Applied patriarchy’ and economic policies

    Uniquely, the Series highlights the bigger picture of how key economic institutions, and taxation and fiscal policies advantage industry at the expense of women and children, and undermine and under resource unpaid work. For example, the third paper in the Lancet Series discusses how women’s unpaid care work is unmeasured by gendered economic statistical systems, excluded by the United Nation’s System of National Accounting which sets rules for what counts in GDP.  Described by feminist economist Marilyn Waring as ‘applied patriarchy’, this system shows a rise in GDP when CMF sales rise, and a fall in GDP when breastfeeding increases. 

    Globally, women were estimated to provide over 23 billion litres of breastmilk a year in 2010. The Mothers Milk Tool provides updated estimates. Yet breastfeeding is under-recognised as an element of food policy and planning, and excluded from international and national food monitoring systems except in Norway.

    Breastfeeding provides important food security for babies, but despite this, women’s voices are silenced in relevant policy discussions. In contrast, as shown in paper 3 of the Lancet Series, the baby formula, dairy and other industry representatives are privileged to comprise around a third of government delegations to the global food regulatory body, Codex Alimentarius. Codex sets minimum benchmarks for national food policies and standards, including on how commercial milk formula can be packaged and labelled for marketing.

    The authors argue that addressing gender biases in statistical systems would make the economic gains from breastfeeding more visible and the implications for women’s well-being more evident, while also raising the priority of protecting breastfeeding in international and national trade decision making.

    Time to care

    Care of an infant is tiring and time consuming – exclusive breastfeeding as recommended for 6 months takes around 20 hours a week.  For over a century, the International Labor Organization has sought to to protect the health of mothers and infants through promoting minimum standards for working mothers. 

    The Maternity Protection Convention provides for a minimum standard of 14 weeks paid maternity leave, and breastfeeding breaks, with payment at two thirds of previous earnings, and funded from public revenue. 

    Yet, more than half a billion women globally lack any of these protections, more than three in ten did not have at least 14 weeks paid at two thirds of previous earnings, and the majority live in countries with no entitlement to nursing breaks. Providing maternity and parental leave and provide breastfeeding breaks at ILO standards was both feasible and affordable in diverse country settings, costing no more than half a per cent of GDP.

    Despite calls for transformative investments in the care economy in response to an escaling global crisis of care, governments rarely allocate necessary budgets. Instead superficial campaigns promoting ‘breast is best’ substitute for more difficult and costly measures addressing the structural drivers of infant feeding decisions. Without substantial societal investments, women’s choices are open to manipulation by exploitative marketing of CMF.

    Central to addressing the global boom in milk formula sales are fiscal policies which shape social protection systems providing women with income security and poverty alleviation, access to public services such as quality childcare, and ensure health financing and medical training systems which avoid creating financial pressures for health facilities and health professionals to accept gifts, donations or sponsorship from CMF companies, and instead offering culturally appropriate and women centred maternity care that is free from commercial influence. 

    Trumping human rights

    To date, trade and commerce trump women’s and children’s rights when it comes to infant and young child feeding in Australia, and internationally, indicating that transformational change to these gendered power systems is urgently needed. Key recommendations include;

    • Adoption of a framework convention on commercial marketing of foods for infants and young children obliging governments to regulate industry marketing and lobbying
    • Data collections which bring women’s unpaid work into visibility in economic accounting systems, 
    • Alignment of ILO standards on paid maternity leave with health recommendations for 6 months of exclusive breastfeeding, and 
    • Using fiscal policy including gender budgeting approaches to fully resource comprehensive maternity rights protection, and channel greater investment into maternal infant and young child health and nutrition.

     

    Please note: Picture at top is from Shutterstock

     

    The post How women’s decisions about breastfeeding are made for them appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • If you think society is less misogynist in 2023, think again

    Content warning: discussion of sexual violence

    8 March is International Women’s Day. Women and allies around the world are joining together in celebration of our strength, and we’ll be commemorating all of us who have died at the hands of men.

    We are, of course, gathering in solidarity against against sexism and misogyny. Over the past few months, I have spoken to a number of people who feel that misogyny isn’t as bad as it used to be; that somehow our UK society is learning to be better. They cite the fact that sexual consent and boundaries are now practiced in many relationships. But let’s face it, a man checking whether his sexual partner consents is the bare minimum of what he should be doing anyway. It’s disturbing that it’s taken us until 2023 to get this far. The bar is very, very low when it comes to how we expect cis men to act.

    If you think this shows that men are somehow better these days, you’d be wrong. The number of women who are being spiked on a night out is alarming, and in 2023, it’s now normal for notices in club toilets to suggest politely that men “stop spiking”.

    On top of this, violence against women during consensual sex is now completely normalised. We are often labelled and shamed as being ‘vanilla’ if we don’t want to be strangled, or if we don’t want to consent to a man’s kink. Strangling during sex is highly gendered, and is now the norm, rather than the exception. Men often strangle us without our permission. In 2019, the BBC wrote:

    more than a third of UK women under the age of 40 have experienced unwanted slapping, choking, gagging or spitting during consensual sex…”

    Four years later, I would argue that not much has changed.

    Are rough sex laws really protecting us?

    The ‘rough sex’ defence has been consistently used by violent men who have murdered women. In 2021, the Domestic Abuse Act did, in theory, rule out this defence. The new law states that:

    Consent to serious harm for sexual gratification [is] not a defence.

    But campaign group We Can’t Consent To This has pointed out that the new laws aren’t working. The group said:

    in November 2021, the Court of Appeal decided Sam Pybus’s sentence of 4 years 8 months should not be increased, after he strangled Sophie Moss until she was dead, and claimed that she had encouraged him to do it. We think there could be no clearer sign the law is not yet working.

    The lead appeal judge argued that Sophie had consented to being strangled; quite how the misogynist judge could know this is a mystery. And how exactly could she consent to being strangled until she was murdered? Pybus had a history of violence against women, and had strangled his previous partner, too. But, of course, Sophie was held accountable, even in her death, because Pybus’s actions were apparently consensual.

    In England and Wales, it has now also become an offence for someone to inflict harm through non-fatal strangulation. But We Can’t Consent To This said:

    With the introduction of a 5 year sentence for Non Fatal Strangulation, shockingly, it’s possible to kill a sexual partner and get a shorter sentence than you would have for not killing her. These short sentences for manslaughter are common – in each case the violence used is shockingly severe.

    Misogyny as the norm

    Of course, misogyny doesn’t just rear its ugly head during sex. It’s so normalised in our society that we don’t even see it for what it is. An obvious example of this is the treatment of famous women when they dare to challenge famous misogynist men. In 2022, the world witnessed Amber Heard and Johnny Depp in court. I felt sick when I heard how Depp had treated Heard. But I felt even more sick when I realised that the world was defending him; that it didn’t matter how disgusting he was towards women – nothing could pull him off his pedestal.

    The misogynist backlash Heard received – surprisingly from all genders – was absolutely sickening. As Canary guest writer Annie Stevens wrote at the time:

    Any man that uses terms like “idiot cow”, “withering cunt”, “worthless hooker”, “slippery whore” or “waste of a cum guzzler” (Depp’s words) to describe women is clearly a misogynist.

    And yet, despairingly, the world still stood by Depp, hero-worshipping him as a cis man who could do no wrong, even when his vile misogyny was shown to the world, plain as day. This case is a prime example of how society excuses and emboldens men to act however they want. Stevens wrote:

    there is no question that it will impact survivors here who have seen friends, family and colleagues back Johnny and claim that Amber is a liar.

    Women have already been pulling out of cases due to the fear of going through what Amber did. Not only that, this case has also emboldened abusive men.

    Prioritising feelings of men

    Since then, the case of another cis man, footballer Benjamin Mendy, has been in the public spotlight. He, along with his friend Louis Saha Matturie, was accused of multiple sexual offences, including rape, by 13 different women. It will, no doubt, have taken the women all of the courage they could muster to be involved in this prosecution, particularly after they witnessed how Heard was treated by the world.

    Unsurprisingly, the majority-male jury found Mendy not guilty of six counts of rape and one count of sexual assault. A retrial is due to take place after the jury couldn’t reach a verdict about one count of rape and one of attempted rape.

    Instead of focusing on whether a majority-male jury should even be allowed in such cases, the mainstream media commented on how Mendy’s life had been shaken up by the accusations. Rather than talking about how the women will have been traumatised by such a man, the BBC wrote that:

    The allegations and trial had been “absolute hell” for Mr Mendy.

    ‘Not all men’

    Of course, you might be a man reading this, thinking to yourself that “not all men” are misogynists, “not all men” are predators, and that “not all men” are sexist. But this is a tiresome argument, used by many of you around the world to excuse yourselves from doing any work on your own patriarchal behaviour. By saying “not all men”, you’re refusing to self-reflect. And this refusal is insulting to the very women who you claim to care about, and who you say you would never harm.

    The “not all men” argument is useless to us. It doesn’t make me or my friends any safer in our homes. It doesn’t prevent us from being harassed, or spiked in a club, or murdered by people who claim to love us. 1,425 women have been killed by men in the UK over a decade, between 2009 and 2018. 62% of women are killed by their current or former partner. Others are murdered by relatives. In 92% of the cases, the women knew their killer.

    Men, it’s time that you step up

    I have previously written about how UK society likes to victim-blame women for the misogyny we encounter. I said:

    As women, we are sick and tired of being told to moderate our behaviour. “Follow the rules”, they say. “Don’t walk alone in the dark”. “Don’t be drunk”. “Don’t dress a certain way”. How, exactly, does moderating our behaviour in any way address the root issue: the misogyny entrenched in our society?

    It is not, in any way, a woman’s responsibility to change how we act. The time has come for men to step up. Look at yourselves, your own behaviour, and the behaviour of your male friends. Look at how patriarchy is entrenched in all of you, and how you all need to do the work to unpick it. Call out your friends who have misogynist or sexist opinions, and challenge them. Don’t shy away from difficult conversations.

    And if women call you out for being sexist, don’t get defensive, and don’t let your male fragility rear its ugly head. Instead, take the time to reflect. When you want to open your mouth and protest, “but not all men”, think twice. After all, you can never, ever know what it’s like to live in a misogynist world.

    We need your understanding. But more than that, we need you to be actively willing to fight sexism and misogyny within yourselves and in society, wherever it manifests.

    Featured image via Eliza Egret

    By Eliza Egret

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • Why I won’t be going to another IWD morning tea

    Last year, I boycotted International Women’s Day. I went to a lovely event at the National Gallery, booked myself into a hotel in the city, took myself out for dinner and to the ballet, and refused to do any work, give any speeches, or attend any morning teas.

    Why?

    I’ve worked to promote women’s rights and advance gender equality all day, every day for a quarter of a century. And I was tired. So very tired. Too tired and outraged by the sexism, violence, and discrimination that women and gender-diverse people face every day, to put on a smiling face, share some platitudes, and drink a cup of tea.

    From the time the banners go up announcing International Women’s Day celebrations, to the time they come down, multiple women will have likely been murdered by their intimate partners, sexual harassment will be happening in the very workplaces that are hosting these events, and women and gender-diverse people working in these organisations will still be being paid less than men. To add insult to injury, I’m often asked to do these events for free, and the events themselves are often organised by women as an additional responsibility to their own jobs, without additional pay or support.

    Here’s some things that should be grabbing our attention this International Women’s Day.

    In spite of some progress, still only 22% of CEOs in Australia are women, and 22% of Australian boards are comprised of only men. One in two women have experienced sexual harassment at work, and people who also experience other kinds of discrimination and disadvantage, such as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women, women living with a disability, people of diverse sexual orientation and young women are all more at risk. In Australia, women still earn $13,182 less than men each year driven, first and foremost, by discrimination. And we still don’t have national data on the gender pay gap for First Nations women, women of colour, or women with a disability…

    As the day rolls around again, the predictable questions have begun. Why are we focused on the rights of women? Why is there an International Women’s Day, but not an International Men’s Day? (There is actually, look it up). Why all this fuss when women are already equal? I understand the confusion. Sure, things have improved. We’ve seen some progress absolutely worth celebrating. In the last 50 years, women have moved into employment and public life in ways which would have been unfathomable to previous generations. In Australia, women now make up 47.9% of the workforce. There are some high-profile women chief executives, and worldwide, girls and boys are getting closer to equality, when it comes to getting an education.

    And yet, the gender pay gap persists, and women and gender-diverse people are still significantly overrepresented in part-time and casual work, impacting their financial and job security, and career progression. Only 28 of 150 elected heads of state, and 13 out of 192 heads of government around the world, are women,and those very women in powerful positions, often find themselves subject to a torrent of sexist behaviour from men, online and otherwise. Furthermore, gender inequality is being reinforced by gender biases in new technology including AI systems.

    When we look at the lived realities of women in this country, particularly women of colour, First Nations women, women with disabilities, and women from the LGBTIQA+ communities, the disconnect is even more striking. In Australia, First Nations women are 35 times more likely to be hospitalised for family-violence related assaults, than other Australian women. More than 70% of women with disability have been victims of violent sexual encounters at some time in their lives.

    Almost 60% of women of colour in Australian workplaces experience discrimination based on their race and gender and lesbian, bisexual and transgender women are collectively three times more likely to experience depression. As women, we’re still far from equal, especially those of us who are also affected by other forms of discrimination.

    And yet, the solution to this, year after year, on International Women’s Day, seems to be cups of tea and cake. It’s become a bit of a joke. But it’s not funny. To me, it’s come to represent the minimisation that women receive from all corners of society, every day, and the disconnect between what our workplaces do to appear as though they care about equality, and real, long-term commitment to address these issues.

    Cupcakes.

    “The solution to this, year after year, on International Women’s Day, seems to be cups of tea and cake. It’s become a bit of a joke,” writes Dr Emma Fulu. Picture: Shutterstock. 

    The evidence shows that these issues are deep, rooted and embedded in our very culture and society. They require similarly deep and long-term solutions and, in fact, most organisations will need to transform their cultures, in order to become fully inclusive. This means that most workplaces have real, internal work to do, beginning with an understanding not only of the extent of the problem, but to the value it brings, a commitment to action and addressing systemic barriers to equality at all levels of the organisation, attracting, and retaining, women and diverse talent, and committing to, and measuring, cultures of meaningful inclusion and belonging, not just diversity.

    I understand that this is hard. I get the desire to skip those difficult conversations, to just repeat what has been done before, even if it didn’t work. But here’s the thing. These issues are not going away. Workplaces are facing pressure from all angles to create more equal, diverse, and inclusive cultures, in a way that’s truly meaningful, and not just about how it looks. In a recent study, 39% of all respondents say they have turned down or decided not to pursue a job because of a perceived lack of equality and inclusion at an organisation.

    When we look to Gen Z, who have just joined the workforce, that number grows to 77%. Regulators are also shifting their attention to the workplace. In Australia, new requirements for the public sector under Victoria’s Gender Equality Act is just one example.

    Workplaces are where many people start to change their mind about social change, and they’re hugely important. It’s where we’ll spend close to one third of our lives. In changing our workplace cultures, making them accessible and inclusive places where everyone feels like they belong, we can also create meaningful social change. And to me that’s a huge opportunity.

    Getting equality right, means a workplace where power and opportunities are shared equally. Where people can show up as their full human selves. Where the diversity of people’s lived experiences and perspectives is celebrated. Where people are paid fairly and equitably. Where the workforce isn’t segregated by gender. That would lead to greater innovation, economic prosperity and health and well-being for all. Surely that’s something we all want to work towards.

    People often ask me if I get depressed doing this work, day in and day out. While there are indeed days that I feel heartbroken – for example when another woman is senselessly murdered, or when our political debates are couched in racist undertones – most of the time I feel hopeful and optimistic.

    That is in large part because of the incredible courage, honesty, and resilience I’ve seen with moments like #metoo and Black Lives Matter growing to become global calls to action. The Respect@Work bill has passed, and there’s a new political mandate for action and accountability on gender equality, and far from being disheartened, it’s inspiring to be amid such an important period of change.

    So, this International Women’s Day, I won’t be boycotting the day. But you won’t find me at another morning tea, either. UN Women’s theme for IWD 2023 is ‘Cracking the Code: Innovation for a gender equal future’, which highlights the role that bold, transformative ideas, inclusive technologies, and accessible education can play in combatting discrimination and the marginalisation of women globally.

    And that’s exactly what I’ll be working on – transformative education using innovative technologies to drive culture and behaviour change. I’ll be continuing to have those hard conversations about transforming the structures, systems, and values of an organisation. I’ll be using my creativity, and my voice, to remind people that these issues haven’t gone away, that they touch all of us, whether we’re women, men, or gender diverse. And I’ll be saying then what I’m saying here now – that only then, will we get to a place of true equality where everyone feels a sense of safety and belonging at work.

     

    The post Why I won’t be going to another IWD morning tea appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • The ‘manosphere’: understanding Andrew Tate’s appeal

    Mega-influencer Andrew Tate is once again back in the news as he battles charges of organised crime and human trafficking in Romania.

    Tate gained infamy last year after being banned on most major social media platforms for promoting a variety of aggressively misogynistic positions designed to stir controversy and draw attention to his brand.

    But while widespread public attention was drawn to Tate only recently, his reputation as a thought leader and “top g” in the online “manosphere” community has been longstanding.

    Indeed, Tate’s ability to stoke and exploit the anxieties and grievances driving the manosphere are unprecedented, and have played a key role in him amassing millions of fans and hundreds of millions of dollars.

    The lure of the ‘manosphere’

    The manosphere is an overlapping collection of online men’s support communities that have emerged as a response to feminism, female empowerment, and the alienating forces of neoliberalism.

    While this is widely understood, a lot less energy has been directed to understanding why and how men are attracted to these extreme communities in the first place.

    The manosphere’s appeal can be perplexing, particularly for parents, teachers or friends trying to make sense of how the men in their lives suddenly adopt aggressively misogynistic views.

    But while the community’s content presents deeply concerning perspectives on women, it also offers explanations for, and solutions to, a very real set of issues facing young men.

    A tranche of data illustrates these growing challenges. Men are rapidly falling behind in education engagement and outcomes. Rates of young male economic inactivity have risen considerably over the past two decades.

    The intimate relations of young men also appear to be in decline. One report suggests rates of sexual activity have dropped by nearly 10% since 2002.

    Suicide rates have risen significantly in men in particular over the past decade.

    We’re also facing a loneliness crisis, which is particularly concentrated in young people and men.

    The manosphere appeals to its audience because it speaks to the very real lives of young men under the above factors – romantic rejection, alienation, economic failure, loneliness, and a dim vision of the future.

    The major problem lies in its diagnosis of the cause of male disenfranchisement, which fixates on the impacts of feminism. Here it contrasts the growing challenges faced by men with the increasing social, economic and political success experienced by women. This zero-sum claim posits that female empowerment must necessarily equate to male disempowerment, and is evidenced through simplified and pseudoscientific theories of biology and socioeconomics.

    For many young men, their introduction to the manosphere begins not with hatred of women, but with a desire to dispel uncertainty about how the world around them works (and crucially, how relationships work).

    The foundations of the manosphere may not strictly centre on misogyny, as is popularly imagined, but in young men’s search for connection, truth, control and community at a time when all are increasingly ill-defined.

    Profiteering off anxiety

    Since its inception, the manosphere has been rife with predatory influencers seeking to profit off the anxieties unleashed by this ambiguity.

    Driven by a desire to reassert a romantic masculine aesthetic ideal in a world of social media unrealities, members of the manosphere often become willing consumers of a wide variety of products and services to “solve” their problems. These range from vitamin and gym supplements, personal coaching, self-help courses, and other subscription-based services.

    But the influencers aren’t just capitalising on a sense of crisis passively – they actively cultivate it, as our research shows.

    Figures like Tate, Canadian psychologist Jordan Peterson and “alpha” strongman Elliott Hulse expend huge amounts of energy and capital fomenting a sense of crisis around these issues, and positioning themselves at the centre. No more clearly was this illustrated than in Tate’s “Hustler’s University”, which created a series of exclusive chat rooms promising men a solution to their fears and centred on Tate’s personage and teachings.

    Such communities solidify the claims made by their leaders, creating feedback loops that contribute to a climate of tension and hysteria. Members are actively encouraged to ridicule those who aren’t willing to acknowledge the “feminist conspiracies” that supposedly underpin the social and political world. Non-believers are seen as contemptible, weak and ignorant, dismissed through an ever-growing newspeak lexicon as “simps”, “cucks” and “betas”.

    The community can also be mobilised to spread the message and brand of the influencer to the wider public, as demonstrated by Tate.

    Having successfully isolated and indoctrinated community members, influencers can then rely on them as a persistent source of support and revenue, allowing them to further reinvest and continue this cycle of growth. This suggests a key way to push back on the wider effects of the manosphere is the targeted disruption of such feedback loops and the prevention of future ones emerging.

    Empathy, patience and support

    Tate and the manosphere didn’t manifest spontaneously. They’re symptoms of a deeper set of challenges young men are facing.

    These problems won’t be addressed by simply deplatforming people like Tate. While this may often be necessary in the short term, savvier influencers will inevitably emerge, responding to the same entrenched issues and employing the tactics to greater effect, while avoiding the mistakes of their predecessors.

    In confronting the manosphere we need to understand and take seriously its appeal to lost men and the centrality of influencers in this process. We can be as critical of it as we want to be. But we also need to understand what it provides for many: a community and place of belonging, a defined enemy, direction, certainty, solutions to deep and systemic issues and, perhaps most importantly, hope.

    We also need to avoid the kneejerk stigmatising and dismissal of people who fall into the manosphere. Simple ostracism tends only to entrench attitudes and reinforce the narratives of persecution spun by Tate and his ilk.

    Instead, we need to use empathy, tolerance and patience to support men in ways that lead them away from these unpleasant boroughs of the internet and make them feel connected with wider society.The Conversation

    This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

    • Picture at top: Wes Mountain/The Conversation, CC BY-ND

    The post The ‘manosphere’: understanding Andrew Tate’s appeal appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Less than half of Muslim women report a positive experience within the Muslim community, report finds

    According to a new report, only 45% of Muslim women reported having an overall positive experience within their community. A Muslim Woman’s Faith Experience is a joint effort by Muslim Census and the Ta Collective. The report examines Muslim women’s accessibility within physical religious spaces like mosques. But it also tells us about their spiritual well-being and relationship with faith.

    Prior to this report, limited research existed that explored the challenges Muslim women face in navigating their faith in the UK. However, research has been undertaken to determine women’s accessibility to religious spaces. For instance, the latest statistics (2017) found that there are approximately 1,795 mosques across the UK. Of these, 28% do not offer space for women. In most cases, when mosques do offer space, women are met with restricted access and substandard conditions.

    Inaccessibility of mosques impacts spirituality

    The report finds that 61% of Muslim women believe that:

    the limited access to Masjids [prayer spaces for Muslims] that they experience has a negative impact on their spirituality and their relationship with faith.

    Shahida Rahman, trustee of Cambridge Central Mosque, notes how male allies must step up to improve the spiritual well-being of Muslim women. She told the Canary:

    It needs to start from within our own communities. And with a lot of mosques being male-dominated, as you know, it is very, very difficult. But the doors do need to be opened for sisters who want to be in these leadership roles.

    Rahman, who is in a mosque leadership role herself, adds that male leaders are generally reluctant to bring in new faces:

    Most of the mosques are run by men, where the committee have been in their roles for many years, it’s very difficult for them to sort of move aside and say, ‘Okay, let’s bring on new people or, women even’.

    It’s not only leadership at the grassroots level that’s proving difficult; sometimes access to the physical space proves to be an obstacle too.

    Being denied entry to mosques

    The report added that 20% of Muslim women in the UK have been denied entry to a masjid. In fact, almost a third of them have been denied on the basis that “there was no dedicated space for women or that it was better for women to pray at home”. Other reasons for refusing entry include Muslim women being inappropriately dressed. 

    In some cases, denying entry means Muslim women had no choice but to pray in unsafe spaces.

    One respondent noted that:

    The males go to the masjid and we are forced to pray in changing rooms, car parks etc. It becomes so that Salah is a box to check off – there is no ease, no Khushoo [sense of tranquillity or focus], no community.

    As a result, Muslim women are turning to alternative sources for spiritual connection and guidance.

    The report found that 39% of Muslim women solely use online sources to seek Islamic knowledge and advice. Rahman sees benefits in these digital services, but she notes that human interaction is crucial:

    We are seeing more and more services for women online. So that’s very positive. But having said that women do need to have that face-to-face interaction with other sisters in their community. When we went into lockdown, we all felt sort of isolated. There wasn’t much human interaction, so I think there are two sides to that.

    Feeling disconnected from wider Muslim community 

    Only 32% of Muslim women felt connected to the wider Muslim community due to their needs being unmet. The report goes further to say “the conflation of religious teachings and cultural practices” results in a disconnect within the Muslim community. For instance, even when they did seek guidance through religious networks, it was difficult to discuss gender-sensitive topics.

    Aasifa Usmani, programme manager for the Faith and Communities Team at Standing Together, notes that mosques should be inclusive of women’s issues:

    Women need to be made a priority and there is a lot of work to be done around that. And obviously, this is not an isolated incident just with Muslim women, this cuts across all faith institutions and how women feel excluded, and othered as well.

    Rahman believes that whilst every community is run a different way, culture can sometimes take precedence in mosques:

    I’m not surprised as a lot of this is related to cultural issues.

    The British Muslim Civil Society report, released in January 2023, made the recommendation that:

    more generally, mosques should not function, as they do in many cases, solely as spaces of prayer for men for a few minutes every few hours.

    The need for change

    Usmaani notes how religious spaces must provide more than one service such as prayer to instill community values:

    Spaces have triangularity, to connect to God, and spiritual needs. I’m glad the report mentioned importance of spirituality, because not every census captures that. It also goes to show that in our so-called secular society, actually, there are lots of women of faith

    The report’s findings were based on a survey of 1,200 Muslim women in the UK, alongside four focus groups with a total of 24 participants.

    Rahman agrees with the idea that mosques need to be more than a place just for prayer:

    It’s a place for social gatherings for sisters, a place of learning and a place or feeling where they can get away really from home and just be able to connect.

    It’s evident that Muslim women have been experiencing issues at the masjid for decades. More often than not, mosques are gendered spaces and women’s use is conditional upon the availability of space. As such, limited access to these spaces negatively impacts Muslim women’s spiritual connection. Only through male allyship and opening up doors for Muslim women in leadership positions can we collectively raise the bar.

    Follow Ta Collective, formerly My Mosque Story, to hear more about the experiences of Muslim women in UK mosques.

    Featured image via Giuseppe Milo – Flickr, resized to 770×403 under licence CC BY 2.0

    By Uzma Gulbahar

  • UK schools fight misogyny peddled by online influencer Andrew Tate

    Andrew Tate, a 36-year-old former kick boxer, is being investigated along with his brother on accusations of “forming an organised criminal group, human trafficking and rape”. Both men deny the charges. When this news broke, many adults learned for the first time of this British man’s existence. However, for many teenagers he was a familiar name.

    When Nick Hewlett, head of London school St. Dunstan’s College, was told about controversial online influencer Andrew Tate by a parent, he’d never heard of him. However, it soon emerged that many of his students were familiar with Tate’s misogynist posts on social media. Hewlett’s solution, and that of some other schools, is to talk openly to students about Tate’s rhetoric.

    Tate’s name was one of the most-searched-for terms on Google in 2022. He is known for his ‘motivational’ videos, in which he lays out his vision of masculinity and success. For him, success is synonymous with wealth, domination, and possessing women and luxury cars. In one of his most disturbing messages, he talks about women being “the property” of men.

    In a tweet, he wrote:

    A man without struggle is never going to be a powerful man… If you’re going to be a hero, you’re going to suffer.

    He also said:

    Masculine life is war.

    ‘Talks about women like objects’

    Just mentioning Tate’s name is enough to set off a heated debate among teenagers. 17-year-old Kieran told Agence France-Presse (AFP):

    At one point, I thought his message was good. He was encouraging men to go the gym. He talked about masculinity while a lot of men are lost. They are asked to behave in a certain way.

    After Tate’s arrest Kieran reconsidered:

    After his arrest, I talked with my mother and my sister and I realised how serious it was.

    Tate has been banned from a number of social media sites but that has not been enough to stop him reaching minors. Kieran said he has tried to block Tate from his social media but keeps seeing the content popping up anyway. Kieran’s friend Jon said he likes some of Tate’s messages, but has noticed that he “talks about women like objects”.

    “I’ve never liked him,” said Lilly, the only girl in the group.

    Toxic masculinity

    To deal with the problem, St. Dunstan’s has added Tate’s story to a lesson topic already being taught.

    From the age of 11, students learn about gender stereotypes and equality. At the age of around 13, they cover toxic masculinity. Hewlett said:

    We have 1,200 children here. So, inevitably, some are going to be falling under his influence – or his spell.

    If schools don’t respond to that, who is going to challenge their views? (…) You’ll create a generation of young people who have a completely distorted view of what success looks like.

    Natasha Eeles heads Bold Voices, a social enterprise she founded in 2018 that visits schools and universities to teach students about gender inequality. She said she first heard of Tate in May 2022. Currently, 70% of schools that contact her want her to talk about him. Last autumn, Bold Voices put together a toolkit to help parents start a conversation with children about Tate. The advice includes asking open questions such as “What do you think of him?” and explaining what misogyny and homophobia mean.

    Michael Conroy, founder of Men at Work – a social enterprise that helps teachers and social workers talk to young men – said:

    There’s a panic and fear among lots of parents, carers, teachers about Andrew Tate.

    Teachers say young men are frequently bringing him into the classroom by quoting him, whatever the context.

    For example, in a business studies class some will give him as an example, saying: “he’s the greatest businessman in the world”.

    While Tate is being held in detention pending investigation, his videos are still going viral, and he and his close allies are still tweeting. Asked whether a jail term would reduce Tate’s influence, Conroy was skeptical:

    If he stays in jail, let’s not be naive. Others will fill the space.

    Featured image via YouTube screenshot/Sky News

    Additional reporting by Agence France-Presse

    By The Canary

  • Andrew Tate: a biproduct of neoliberalism – not someone helping young men

    The Canary‘s multimedia producer Curtis Daly has been watching events surrounding Andrew Tate in recent weeks.

    Falling-down the rabbit hole

    As Sky News reported on 14 January, the latest developments are that:

    Romanian authorities have seized several luxury cars from influencer Andrew Tate’s villa as part of a criminal inquiry into alleged human trafficking that led to his arrest. The cars, which included a Rolls-Royce and a BMW, were taken from Tate’s villa in Voluntari on the outskirts of Bucharest and transported by police to a secret warehouse. The self-proclaimed misogynist was arrested in the capital on 29 December, on charges of being part of an organised crime group, human trafficking and rape. His brother Tristan and two Romanian women were also arrested. They have denied wrongdoing.

    As Daly notes in his latest video, it’s clear that Andrew Tate’s target audience is young straight men. This demographic, coincidentally, is also the most likely to fall down the far-right rabbit hole. In an age where the idea of gender – of femininity and masculinity – is becoming more fluid, the counter culture which has been pushed by the right is extreme, toxic masculinity. The vulgar misogyny that’s on display finds itself split between Andrew Tate fans who think that it’s a way of picking up women, and those who use the hatred of women as a front for being unsuccessful with them – also known as ‘incels’.

    In a world of misinformation – a combination of ultra masculinity, a rejection of modern identity, and being promised that this behavior somehow attracts women – it’s plausible that some young men find this appealing.

    Andrew Tate: a neoliberalist biproduct?

    So, in his latest video Daly argues that Andrew Tate is a biproduct of neoliberalism – not someone helping young men. As he notes, Andrew Tate is exploiting the false idea that being a man is somehow being erased. However, he also has an economic incentive to push this kind of narrative:

    Young men with low self-esteem are actually great for him. He manipulates them and sells them an idea – making a profit off people’s misery. Andrew Tate’s biggest business venture is ‘Hustlers University’ – which users can sign up for, which in turn will miraculously make them rich.

    It’s just one big scam – the business is essentially his personality. His persona of leaning into ‘anti-wokeness’ and his extreme misogyny appeal to made-up fears surrounding sex, gender, alpha males and beta males, coupled with a get-rich-quick scheme that promotes selfishness and extreme individualism.

    Sounds familiar in any way? Andrew Tate is quite literally a model by-product of neoliberalism.

    Watch Curtis Daly’s full video via YouTube below – and don’t forget to hit the subscribe button while you’re there.

    By Curtis Daly

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • It’s not surprising that one of the worst sex offenders in Britain is a Met police officer

    A Metropolitan Police officer has pleaded guilty to at least 29 sexual offences, including 14 rape charges. David Carrick was an armed police officer, serving in the parliamentary and diplomatic protection command. He joined the Met in 2001 after leaving the army, and his attacks span a period of 18 years. The police force admitted that there are likely to be more victims who are too scared to come forward, and other women who couldn’t face the ordeal of a trial. Carrick used his position in the police to terrify women into staying silent.

    Inaction by the Met over Carrick

    The Met suspended Carrick in October 2021. However, Sky News has reported that:

    the Met Police confirmed Carrick “had come to the attention of the Met and other forces on nine occasions prior to October 2021” but had not been charged over those allegations against him.

    They included allegations of rape, domestic violence, and harassment between 2000 and 2021.

    Barbara Gray, the Met’s assistant commissioner, said:

    We should have spotted his pattern of abusive behaviour and because we didn’t, we missed opportunities to remove him from the organisation.

    However, the force chose to ignore multiple complaints. It didn’t miss them, as Gray claimed. Not only did the police force do nothing about the allegations, it even armed Carrick, giving him a gun in 2009. He even passed another vetting procedure in 2017, despite the force knowing about the allegations.

    This shows, once again, how disgustingly misogynist the Metropolitan Police is. It has such little regard for women’s safety that it ignored multiple complaints, and rewarded Carrick by promoting him up the ranks into an elite armed unit.

    Rampant misogyny

    It is hardly surprising that one of the worst sex offenders in Britain could be allowed to thrive in the Metropolitan Police. The Canary has extensively reported on the rampant misogyny in the Met. It took the brutal murder of Sarah Everard for the Met to announce that it would investigate all cases of sexual misconduct or domestic abuse allegations against its officers. Sarah was kidnapped, raped, and murdered by then-serving Metropolitan Police officer, Wayne Couzens, in March 2021. He even remained an officer after police arrested him that month, and was only sacked in July, over a month after he pleaded guilty to kidnapping and raping her.

    Just months after Sarah’s murder, Cressida Dick – who was then the Metropolitan Police Commissioner – was accused of “presiding over a culture of incompetence and cover-up”. Dick resigned in April 2022 after she was criticised for her handling of racist, misogynist, and homophobic messages shared by a group of officers based at Charing Cross police station. The men sent WhatsApp and Facebook messages to each other, making multiple references to rape and violence against women. One officer was even referred to as “mcrapey raperson” because of rumours that he had brought a woman to a police station to have sex with her.

    It’s also important not to forget the Met’s handling of the murders of sisters Bibaa Henry and Nicole Smallman, who were stabbed to death in a park in Wembley in June 2020. Their family had to search for the women themselves after the Met didn’t immediately respond to their calls for help. When the police did finally turn up, officers took selfies of themselves next to Bibaa and Nicole’s dead bodies. Their mother, Mina Smallman, said at the time:

    If ever we needed an example of how toxic it has become, those police officers felt so safe, so untouchable, that they felt they could take photographs of dead black girls and send them on. It speaks volumes of the ethos that runs through the Metropolitan Police.

    Thousands of women have been murdered or abused by the police

    In 2021, a report found that at least 194 women have been murdered by the police and prison system in England and Wales. In 2022, freedom of information requests from the Bureau of Investigative Journalism found that 82% of police officers who were accused of domestic abuse kept their jobs. The Guardian reported that:

    1,080 out of 1,319 police officers and staff who were reported for alleged domestic abuse during a three-year period were still working.

    The Guardian continued:

    The conviction rate of police officers and staff for domestic abuse is 3.4%, lower than the 6.3% in the general population.

    Institutional violence

    This being the case, it’s little consolation when the Met yet again sheds crocodile tears, apologising that one of its elite officers, Carrick, has been raping women for two decades. Gray said:

    We are truly sorry that being able to continue to use his role as a police officer may have prolonged the suffering of his victims.

    The Met will go on looking after their own, thriving on a culture of violence, racism, and misogyny. Its officers will, no doubt, continue to abuse and terrify women. These officers will be loose on the streets, arresting and traumatising women, children and Black communities with brutal and humilitating strip searches, while their undercover police officers will continue to invade women’s lives.

    Meanwhile, the state will continue to play its part, having passed a succession of new laws giving some of the country’s most violent men – police officers – inexhaustible new powers.

    The Met will start the process of sacking Carrick on Tuesday 17 January. Far too little, too late.

    Featured image via Guardian News/screen grab, resized to 770*403

    By Eliza Egret

    This post was originally published on Canary.

  • “Be ruthless with structures and kind with people”

    Having initiated one of Australia’s most successful campaigns against sexual assault, Chanel Contos shares some valuable advice:  “Be ruthless with structures and kind with people.” 

    Chanel believes the decision to focus on changing the culture, rather than demonising individuals, is the main reason for the success of her Teach Us Consent campaign. As a result of Chanel’s initiative, Australia will soon see consent education introduced nationally in every school at every level. 

    In February last year, Chanel posted an Instagram poll, asking “Have you, or has anyone close to you, ever been sexually assaulted by someone who went to an all-boys school in Sydney?” The post went viral and Chanel was soon inundated with replies from all over the world. Seventy per cent of respondents answered, “Yes.”

    With over 200 responses within 24 hours, Chanel quickly realised an issue she and her friends were discussing privately was not isolated to a few exclusive Sydney schools. Teenage boys are routinely raping and sexually assaulting teenage girls, but rape culture is so normalised in our society that, often, neither perpetrators nor victims understand what has happened between them is a criminal act. 

    The problem, identified by Chanel, is that neither girls nor boys receive consent education at school. It isn’t until they leave school that young women realise they have been raped or sexually assaulted – often by boys they trusted, and considered as friends. It’s unclear how many young men gain sufficient insight to understand that actions they considered “normal teenage behaviour” were not only illegal, but hugely damaging to the young women involved. 

    Inspired by the response to her poll, Chanel, now working with a team of experts, set up a website called “Teach Us Consent” and started an online petition asking for sexual consent education in Australian schools. The petition quickly gained more than 44,000 signatures supported by over 6,540 stories of sexual assault. 

    Recently, I interviewed Chanel Contos for an episode of  the Australian Academy of Social Sciences in Australia’s ‘Seriously Social podcast’. As the mother of 9 and 12 year old girls, the importance of her work really struck home to me. As an older feminist, I finished the interview simply bursting with pride that young women of Chanel’s generation are taking up the cause of women’s safety and equality with such thoughtfulness, insight and skill. 

    Chanel, herself,  was sexually assaulted at just 13 years old, but it was not until she left school she discovered the boy who sexually assaulted her went on to do the same to one of her friends. 

    She says, “I got really, really emotional about the fact I could have prevented it happening if I had fully understood what was going on; if I’d reported him or held him accountable in some way. But I didn’t.”

    “I didn’t know that someone you knew and trusted could do something like rape you. I thought rapists were that stereotype of someone who is going to kidnap you and hurt you. I didn’t realise that sexual violence can occur without physical pain being inflicted. And because I thought what happened was normal, I didn’t tell anyone. I just thought that was part of being thirteen.”

    “I thought, maybe if he knew what consent was – how important it was – maybe he wouldn’t have done it to me.”

    Chanel’s initial plan was to solicit some testimonies from girls within her own circle and pass them on to local boys’ schools. But then she decided on the Instagram poll – and it went viral.

    She says, “I was getting testimonies faster than I could physically read or post them.”

    Chanel couldn’t help but be touched by the responses. She told me, “… those stories – every single one of them – was so genuine … None of them were conventional or whatever. Everyone had their own voice and that made their stories feel so real … It was hard to ignore that.”

    When, inevitably, the media got hold of the story it took Chanel’s campaign to a level where it simply couldn’t be ignored.

    The Teach Us Consent campaign is designed to change lives. But it has also changed Chanel’s life. 

    She says, “If we think about the day before I launched the petition I was a big-time, chilled out, uni student. Doing my Masters degree and living in London during the COVID lock-down, I was spending a lot of time inside; sleeping in, staying up late. And then, almost overnight, after the petition started, I didn’t sleep for like three or four days.”

    Chanel spent the next 18 months working on her Master’s thesis during the day, then switching to “Australian time” and working on the Teach Us Consent campaign all night.

    She says, “It was a massive life change, but it means that now I get to work in gender equality and violence prevention and human rights, which is something I always wanted to do; I just didn’t really think I could do it.” 

    Chanel was recently appointed director of the Australia Institute’s Centre for Sex and Gender Equality. It is an inspired appointment, given the runaway success of Chanel’s Teach Us Consent campaign. 

    As a direct result of her efforts, NSW Police ramped up Operation Vest, their anonymous online tip site, Chanel met with the Prime Minister and, earlier this year, Ministers of Education from around Australia unanimously committed to mandating “holistic and age appropriate consent education in every school every year, from foundation until Year 10.” 

    Chanel was surprised that, once consciousness was raised about this issue, cultural change happened incredibly quickly. It went from cynical responses like, “What do you want the school system to do about it?” to everyone agreeing – the public, schools, police and politicians – that immediate action is required.

    Chanel marvels at the people who were “willing to put the most intimate parts of their lives on a public forum for the benefit of the greater good” and credits their selfless generosity for helping to effect this tangible change.

    Not all campaigns are as successful as Chanel’s, and certainly few get results as quickly. I asked her, “Why do you think your style of protest got the results it did?”

    First, Chanel thinks that people had a strong, emotional response to the testimonies posted on the Teach Us Consent website. To date, more than 6,500 stories of sexual assault have been submitted.

    But, having given it a great deal of thought, Chanel thinks what really made her campaign unique was “the fact that no individual perpetrator at any point got any blame. There was no individual finger-pointing.” 

    Chanel’s campaign was never about blaming perpetrators, it was about fixing the culture that was creating the problem. The mantra guiding Teach Us Consent was:  “Be ruthless with structures and kind with people.”

    She says, “I feel like that’s what the campaign did, which is why it had such an impact.”

    Towards the end of our interview, I asked Chanel, what she would do if she had a magic wand.

    At first, she says she would abolish normalised violence. But, as the discussion continued she revises her wish and decides that granting empathy to everyone would have the same result and a wider impact. 

    The success of the Teach Us Consent campaign should give us pause for thought. Of course, it is only natural to want to respond to sexual assault with anger and blame. But Chanel’s counterintuitive, empathetic approach encourages everyone to focus, not on who is to blame, but on how we can all do better.

    • Feature image: Chanel Contos. Picture: Supplied 

    The post “Be ruthless with structures and kind with people” appeared first on BroadAgenda.

    This post was originally published on BroadAgenda.

  • Muslim women call for male allies to step up in UK mosques

    Muslim men are not doing enough to accommodate Muslim women in prayer spaces. Mosques usually have segregated worship places. Sometimes women will pray behind men in the same space. More often, mosques will have two separate rooms, with the men in the main prayer hall and the women in an alternative space. Based on this setup, mosques are gendered spaces, and women’s use is conditional upon the availability of space. And in some cases, mosques make no room for women at all.

    As per the latest statistics (compiled in 2017), there are approximately 1,795 mosques across the UK. Of these, 28% do not offer space for women. In most cases, when mosques do offer space, women are met with restricted access and substandard conditions. For decades, the onus has been on women to effect change – but there’s only so much they can do. It’s time for men to step up.

    The excuse

    By and large, Muslim women have been presented with the impression that it’s better for them to pray at home. While this view isn’t universal, it certainly has an impact on how women feel about attending their local mosque. The belief comes from a hadith – a record of traditions by the prophet Muhammad (PBUH) – describing a preference for women to worship at home. Yet, many Muslim women feel that has been used as an excuse to justify the current status quo.

    Tebussum Rashid, deputy CEO at Action for Race Equality, notes that she herself has fallen into this mindset:

    There’s a lovely little mosque near where I work in King’s Cross and there’s absolutely no space for women. I think to myself, the building has probably been established as a mosque many years ago for men and now, there’s probably not enough space to expand for men, never mind, women. I know that’s not an excuse, but in my head, I justified it that way – just to keep myself calm. 

    Likewise, Nafisah Atcha, organic content executive at Embryo Digital, suggests how this view has become the default way of thinking:

    I think that perception hinders women’s access to mosques. We forget that Allah has allowed women to pray from home because we have other duties. But, that doesn’t necessarily mean that we should be disregarded from the mosque community altogether.

    Other hadiths believe women should not be prevented from the mosque. Gender equality campaigner Julie Siddiqui says:

    It’s incredible how ingrained this idea has become – that it’s better for women to pray at home. That is a mindset. That is a whole way of thinking that is telling people that somehow women’s prayer is less important.

    During lockdown, it became overly apparent that Muslim men’s worship needs were being prioritised. A number of UK mosques were closed to women for coronavirus (Covid-19) health and safety reasons. Aasifa Usmani, programme manager for the Faith and Communities Team at Standing Together, notes how the pandemic left no option for women:

    Women’s spaces in mosques closed down to allow a wider space for men. It just shows that consulting us is not really considered important.

    For Muslim women, spaces prove impermanent and fluctuate without their input.

    More than physical space

    However, Usmani also noted that “spaces are not the be-all and end-all”. Even when spaces are created, poor conditions and an uninviting atmosphere discourage women from attending the mosque. 

    Siddiqui co-founded Open My Mosque, a campaign to highlight and speak out about inequalities in UK mosques. She describes how one visit to a mosque forced Muslim men to take notice:

    One of the male trustees had literally walked through the women’s entrance and found all sorts of things wrong, There were light bulbs out, doors weren’t opening properly, you know, all these things. He was shocked and a bit embarrassed to be quite honest. Of course, he was a good guy, but actually physically walking the route opened his eyes, because as far as they were concerned, the women’s section had lovely carpets and lots of light. But there’s stuff that goes wrong, that they didn’t even realise, and actually would not be allowed to continue to happen in the men’s area

    While the inadequate conditions have been known to Muslim women for decades, it’s not something that’s obvious to men.

    For Rashid, women can themselves contribute towards the uncomfortable feelings she experiences. She recalls how she was told to put on an abaya (a loose-fitting full-length robe) even though she was already dressed modestly for prayer.

    If women don’t have the same values – supporting, empowering and encouraging, then we’re not gonna have enough women wanting to go into the mosque. There’s an underside of judgement that other women are putting on each other about what is right and wrong. We need to focus on prayer rather than the micro-details like clothing, variations in praying and so forth.

    A community issue

    It’s not easy for Muslim women to stand publicly against injustice. On 5 September 2021, in response to two young women being thrown out of the Soho Islamic Centre, Siddiqui and the Open My Mosque team observed prayers outside the mosque. Despite the backlash, Siddiqui received hundreds of messages from British Muslim women who had experienced the same.

    Siddiqui says:

    To sort of openly shout about this stuff is not always easy. And it’s not always comfortable. But you keep your intentions clear and you remember why you’re doing it. You hear the reactions from people that are very sincere that no one else sees apart from me.

    There’s a stigma that if Muslim women speak up on these issues they’re contributing to Islamophobia. Siddiqui adds:

    We all talk about Islamophobia and the bad stuff that’s happening against us, but when it comes to our own prejudice and our own inequality and our own injustice to each other. No one wants to talk about that stuff, because that’s different.

    We have to try and push, knock at the door, literally, find our way in, but also raise these real experiences, tell the stories, do the videos, you know, take the photos, share them online. That’s how it’s done. Now, almost to a certain extent, a little bit of embarrassment works that I think works, frankly speaking, whether people like it or not, you know, that’s how these things change.

    Gender-inclusive sermons

    Although sermons are usually topical and issue-based, some Muslim women would love to hear about issues that are women-centric or concern other marginalised groups. Rashid says:

    … it’d be great if there were more women-specific topics like family life or menopause. I’d love to be able to kind of ask questions or listen or get some comfort. And I know there are women out there that are learned and knowledgeable about these things, but they don’t have the spaces created for them. You know, it’d be great if there was a sermon for women, by women.

    Whilst sermons are usually performed by men, introducing female speakers enables a sanctuary space for women.

    Likewise, Usmani says:

    But even when there are spaces, you feel that there is a lack of inclusivity like in the sermons, for example, when men talk no matter how well-meaning they are, they experience a very masculine experience. And sometimes it can become very, very monotonous.

    Usmani also notes how some mosques fail to be a safe space for minorities:

    The Muslim LGBTQI community could feel isolated and stigmatised and considered “sinful”. It is important that we validate and hear their concerns and not ostracise them. These communities have been grappling with their struggles and are often ostracised by their families and could often come across as open hostility by communities and families. Mosques should be a safe space for them to get emotional support and not to other them, Ramadhan and Eid could be very isolating for them.

    Change from the top

    Through a top-down approach, the community can work together to shift the current mindset. Rashid says:

    At the governance level, there need to be more women.

    These positions have to be more than hollow gestures, as Rashid says:

    Those already in leadership must have the intention and commitment for more inclusivity, Trustees also need to have etiquette around some of the conversations, you know, not only from a religious point of view but from a human point of view, as well.  What does accessibility actually mean? And it’s not just about the physical space – why are those spaces sidelined? Why do we have to go past the bins to get there? Why are women made to feel uncomfortable, because we have to pass the men and they might be staring at us? That’s their problem, not ours, all of that, and I want to change to behaviours and mindsets of men. And that can start at the leadership level, first and foremost. And then through that, through sermons, through behaviours, the ripple effect has to happen. There’s no point in having those spaces if the attitudes make us feel unwelcome.

    Siddiqui agrees that more women must be at the table. However, transparency is required in the recruitment system. She said:

    It’s become so common and I’ve seen it locally that, even when some of the women trustees have come forward but they happen to be related to the committee members, So how much of a challenge are these women going to give or how many of their ideas are going to be heard?

    Mosques need to go beyond lip-service and recognise women’s demands.

    Cambridge Central Mosque is one mosque with gender inclusivity at its heart. As one of the very few mosques which allow men and women to pray in the same prayer hall, Shahida Rahman tells us they’re breaking down barriers:

    It’s open to everybody, you know, regardless of what school of thought that you follow, it’s for all communities. And we do get asked the question, ‘is it a Shia mosque or a Sunni mosque?’ It’s open to everyone. It’s a prayer space. And it’s also a community space as well.

    The physical space in this particular mosque has been adapted to fit women’s needs. A mother and children room allows worshippers to join the prayers, separated by glass doors which prevent any noises from reaching the main prayer hall.

    It’s evident that Muslim women have been spearheading this campaign for decades. Only through male allyship can we collectively raise the bar by recognising gender inequality as a community issue.

    Featured image via R Haworth – Wikimedia, resized to 770×403 pixels under licence CC BY-SA 3.0

    By Uzma Gulbahar

    This post was originally published on Canary.