Where Was I, When She Was Walking Home?
It’s Past Time To Be A Better Ally
She was walking home.
We’ve heard the same thing over and over again in the last few days. And weeks. Months. Years. Longer.
Once again the truth of the danger that women live in every day has been brought to society's attention. Once again the women in our lives are forced to give an outpouring of their experiences - of harassment, of sexual assault, of living their lives in fear - in the hope that this time men will finally wake up and do something about themselves.
Because it’s not their job to educate us. We should recognise this problem ourselves. You know, because empathy. Because basic human understanding.
And I have to ask myself if I believe I’m one of the Good Guys then why aren’t I calling this out more often?
Nothing I write in this post is an excuse.
Nothing I say here is to argue I can’t, or shouldn’t, do better.
And neither am I asking women to provide me with the answers. They’ve been saying more than enough for more than long enough. It's my responsibility to listen and educate myself. I welcome input and advice, and I applaud those who have felt brave enough to share their stories with us. But I’m not putting the responsibility in anyone’s hands but my own.
This post also isn’t filled with all the answers. Anything I come up with will be a drop in the ocean of what is needed.
So if in the below post I say anything ignorant, tone-deaf, or if I’ve simply misunderstood anything I’m talking about, please feel free to correct me. I’m happy to learn where I’m going wrong.
My intent with this post is to use myself as an example. To identify the barriers that I have no excuse but to work through.
What is stopping me from being a better ally? What parts of my mind and thought processes stop me from doing more. Which of my beliefs are holding me back, either because I’m not seeing the problem, or because I’ve created excuses so I don't have to.
In a way, this whole post is just for me. By putting this into words I’m forcing myself to think things through logically. But I also hope it will be useful for other men. Maybe if I can identify my own barriers, others may see the same things in their own lives. Men, we don’t just need to work on ourselves but share what we’ve learned with each other.
This is a group exercise. Together, maybe we can do better.
Using My Voice
One of the things I’ve heard over and over again on social media this week has been “Where Are The Men?”
Over the last week, more and more of my female friends have been calling out the misogyny in our society. Once again reliving and retelling the experiences they have lived with their entire adult lives.
And many of them, rightly, have been asking where were the men doing the same. Yes, a few were posting their support and disgust at what is happening, but most were nowhere to be seen.
And I was one of those staying quiet. I wasn’t speaking. Because I was listening.
But maybe this isn’t enough.
When issues like this arise, I’ve always thought my role to be to step back and make the effort to listen. Whether it's women, the BAME community, the LGBTQ+ community, or any other community, I’ve felt I was giving them the space to speak. That as a straight, cis, white male, it wasn’t my place to talk. I would listen. I would hear their experiences and take in their anger and their need to change.
Also, I’ve been afraid of coming across as performative. Jumping on the bandwagon of privileged people calling out that “I’m one of the good ones!”.
But maybe it’s time for me to rethink this idea. Yes, listening is important, but maybe speaking up is just as necessary. My worry about coming across as performative, or it not being my place to speak, pales into how exhausted people must feel having to call out the same things over and over again. That however weak my words felt compared to theirs, it would be far better to let them know I’m standing with them.
It’s not about my discomfort at whether I belong in this argument. At worst, I’ll get told I need to back off. But what’s that compared to what others are going through?
Of course, just listening and speaking out in support isn’t enough on its own. What is it I’m actually doing to make a change?
Stepping In
If I saw someone being sexually assaulted, would I step in? Of course I would.
If I saw someone being harassed, would I step in? Of course I would.
If I heard someone talking disrespectfully about women in public, would I speak up? Of course I would.
So why aren’t I stepping in all the time?
Yes, I’ve always known harassment and assault are going on all the time but thought I never saw it happening to my friends. I assumed they were the lucky ones with good social circles. I told myself that my friends were strong enough to look after themselves when this sort of thing happened.
But all the evidence says I’m wrong. According to a recent survey, 97% report being sexually harassed, and 80% say it’s happened in public. I'll put my hand up to admit I'm not the most observant person, but even I’m not so unobservant that I should not be seeing something when the numbers are like this!
So it’s fairly obvious that the problem is me.
I’ve been doing some soul searching this last week and I’ve realised that yes, if I saw someone being obviously harassed I would step in. But it has become clear that my personal barometer of what “obvious” entails is just far too weak.
Let me use a couple of examples of what I mean. Men, pay attention. Maybe this will feel familiar to you.
When It Happens To Friends
A few months before lockdown, I went to see a show with a group of friends. One of them was new to the group, and younger than the rest of us so I was keeping an eye on her to check she was okay. During one of the acts, a guy started leaning in close and trying to talk to her. I couldn’t hear what he said, but she essentially ignored him.
We all know what this looks like. A guy trying his luck with a pretty girl and getting nowhere. Nothing wrong with that in itself, as long as he is respectful and takes no for an answer. But he kept it up throughout the act, leaning in close every time despite her obvious disinterest.
I’ll admit, the guys gave me an uncomfortable feeling. But she didn’t appear to be upset, and I don’t think I saw him touch her. It was just another guy pushing his luck despite it being clear that she wasn’t interested in him.
Why didn’t I step in?
If I checked in and asked if she was okay, I worried that it would look like I was trying to be a White Knight. That she would be offended at my insinuation she needed protecting. That I’m come across as patronising.
Also, this was a friend who had always been wonderfully strong in her feminism. She had never been someone unafraid to speak up for herself and call out other’s unacceptable behaviour. I couldn't picture her not calling someone out for harassing her.
When It Happens To Strangers
It’s not just people I know, either. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve noticed public interactions that I dismissed as friends being playful.
Normally this looks something along the lines of a guy winding up a female friend of his, while she laughs awkwardly or openly looks pissed off.
But a woman laughing doesn’t mean she’s okay with what’s happening. Watching this video from Project Nightfall really hammered this fact home for me. And I should have recognised it long before. I’ve read more than enough articles of women having to go along with situations for fear of the man’s response. So a woman looking like she’s being harassed by someone should 100% be a red flag.
Why didn’t I ever step in?
Maybe it’s English culture telling me not to make a fuss. It’s uncomfortable stepping into someone else’s business. Especially if it turns out to just be friends messing around. No one wants to be that busybody who believes they have the right to police other people.
And maybe it’s also wanting to assume the best. Deep down, we don’t want to admit this dark side of the world exists. It’s so much nicer to assume that it’s all fine, and this woman is okay with what’s going on.
But as I stated at the start of this post, none of this is an excuse or justification to have not done anything. All of this is my problem, and I need to get through these barriers and be a better ally for the people in my life.
So how am I going to go about this?
I would like to share the most important thing I’ve ever been taught about being a good ally.
I’m lucky. I have good friends who let me reach out to them for advice. They’re not obliged to do this. But recently I had a situation where I was worried about speaking out regarding a community I’m not a part of. My intentions were good, but I worried it wasn’t my place to say anything.
The advice my friend gave me was both insightful and practical. I just had to ask myself one question:
Does the potential good of your aims and motives outweigh the awkwardness / upset / offence you’re imagining you might cause? If yes, then it’s right to proceed.
It’s that simple.
Does the potential good of making a friend feel safer outweigh the potential awkwardness of coming across as patronising and overprotective?
Hell yes, it does.
Does the potential good of protecting a stranger from harassment outweigh the potential upset they may feel at my thinking their flirting looks like harassment?
Hell yes, it does.
Is this the only lesson I’m hoping to learn in the coming weeks? No.
But it’s the one I’ve been focusing on this last week. Step one, if you will. If I want to be a better ally, it’s time for me to start putting other people’s safety over my comfort. To make sure that thoughts such as “It’s probably harmless” need to be followed with “But I’ll check in anyway, just to be sure.”
I’m trying. Maybe not enough, but I promise I will continue to try my best. I will listen, and I will speak even when it’s awkward for me.
For now, all I can't do is apologise for not being better, and promise to try and be better going forward.
