It Still Happens Here

Image: Jade Correa

Would you know where to turn if you experienced sexual violence? I suspect most people wouldn’t. I spend a fair bit of my time talking and writing about sexual violence, and for a long time I wasn’t sure where to go, either – to be honest, I’m still not sure I’m completely certain. And there’s another, more troubling question that links to my first. Would you turn to anyone at all if you experienced sexual violence? Do you trust that your claim would be taken seriously by your college, the University, even the police? I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if your answer to any of those questions was no.

It’s these issues, among many others, that It Happens Here Durham is trying to tackle as it works with the University, particularly the Sexual Violence Task Force. We’re a relatively new group, forming with only two members in 2012; we’ve only been a society for a year.  Nevertheless, we have huge aims for Durham. Our three key goals are for the University to have a transparent sexual violence policy, better signposting for those seeking support, and mandatory training for members of staff, particularly those whose jobs require a degree of pastoral care.

The first goal brings us back quite nicely to my original question. It is clear that sexual violence is happening at university at an alarming rate: the most recent NUS report on the subject stated that one in seven female students experience serious sexual or physical assault at some point in their university life. Of those students, a total of 14% report their assault to their institution or the police, with the remaining students not reporting because they felt embarrassed or ashamed, or were worried that they would be blamed. The impression I get at Durham in particular is that the lack of a clear sexual violence policy, or a guide on where to go, might also be a significant issue. With the stigma that already surrounds sexual violence, might it not be discouraging to have no clear idea of who to go to for help?

A clear policy is something that should interest the University and its students alike. As well as providing a better procedure for dealing with victims of sexual violence, it might too offer ways of dealing with the perpetrators. Unfortunately, we live in a country as a whole where it is often the victims who are uprooted from their university halls, or are forced to find a different route to lectures, for fear of meeting their attacker on campus. It should be the responsibility of each university to ensure that both parties remain separated during any investigation of sexual violence, and it should not be up to the complainant to take extra measures to make sure that this is the case.

Policies take a long time to make, and the controversies and the ins and outs surrounding sexual violence makes the process more complicated and time-consuming. But there is still more the university can do in the meantime. It Happens Here’s second goal – to secure better signposting for victims of sexual violence – is perhaps the easiest to achieve. After all, everyone has the Nightline number on the back of their campus cards, and it has its own little section on DUO and the University website. It takes some searching, but mental health resources, too, are quite readily available, with the counselling service in particular being advertised through emails. Why, then, do sexual violence resources not have this same status? Considering the impact it has on students’ wellbeing, their mental health, and their academic performance, surely it is in the University’s best interests to provide a couple of links, maybe even a few phone numbers?

That’s what we’re trying to do at the moment. We’d like to see a section on DUO with the contact details of Rape Crisis and clinics in the local area. Ideally, we’d love to run a poster campaign around the Student Union, the library and other University buildings with details of how to get help. In the meantime, our own website has resources for anyone who needs them, including much-needed details of how to help a friend.

Finally, our third goal is about training. It’s about raising awareness of sexual violence and how to deal with it within the integral structures of the university. We believe that mandatory training should take place for anyone in a position where they might be approached by someone who has experienced sexual violence. This way, it will help reduce the chain of people involved in a single enquiry, ensuring greater privacy for the victim and decreasing the delay. Our opinion is that education on sexual violence should form part of everyone’s initiation into the University, too: after all, we have to complete a plagiarism tutorial and sit through police safety talks, so why shouldn’t sexual violence deserve a slot, too?

There will always be the cries of ‘but I know what consent is! I am not a perpetrator!’ of course; but equally, most Durham students would know what does and doesn’t constitute a fire hazard, and we still sit through fifteen minutes of fire safety talks during Freshers’ Week. If not to teach students something new about sexual violence – although you’ll be surprised to realise how much more there is to learn – then such talks serve to raise awareness of the issue, at least. Consent workshops will never be popular amongst the entire student body – although the ones we have run over the past year have been happily successful – but a talk on what sexual violence is, and how not to be a perpetrator, can hardly set one back in life.

Since I joined It Happens Here, I have realised how much more the University still needs to do for sexual violence. I am proud to have been part of a campaign that has raised awareness over the past few years, following the ever-growing trajectory of wider media coverage and, lately, even gaining traction in our own student publications. It seems that the student body is finally waking up to an issue more dangerous than river safety, more prevalent than muggings in the street. The University should wake up too. If you have experienced sexual violence, or even if you know someone who has, then you already know that Durham is much less safe than it supposes itself to be. I hope that our student campaign, however small it may be, can continue to work with the University and the Sexual Violence Task Force to provide a safer and more reliable space in which to study and live.

For more information on It Happens Here and what we do, please find us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter (@DU_HappensHere) or visit our website: www.ithappensheredurham.wordpress.com

Originally published on Palatinate.

On Hogan-Howe and presumption of belief

I don’t pretend to know a lot about law, about the reporting system, or about the inner workings of the police force. But when I read in the Guardian a couple of weeks ago that the policy of presumption of belief was being challenged, I couldn’t help but be angry.

In the training I’ve had and the talks I’ve attended since becoming part of It Happens Here, one of the most important things people stress is that you should always believe victims of sexual abuse. Because so much abuse gets swept under the carpet, and because ours is a culture of victim blaming and willful ignorance, it is so important to show that you believe what somebody tells you. That act of showing belief could be the catalyst to a victim building the confidence to report their assault, if they wish to, or to seek help. And even if the ‘presumption of belief’ policy is not as strong or as coherent a policy as we might hope it to be (see this link for a better explanation), it is a positive start to a journey towards a more respectful treatment of victims of sexual violence in such professions.

So when I read about Metropolitan police officer Sir Hogan-Howe’s claim in the newspaper, I was initially shocked. The idea went against everything I had been taught since I first started learning about sexual violence. Then I started thinking about the possible thought processes behind the suggestion. Wondering whether this had stemmed from false rape and abuse accusations, I started looking into figures.

I already knew that a very, very small proportion of rape accusations are false. A 2005 Home Office survey claimed that the percentage is 3%, and the numbers don’t appear to have changed much since then. Some sources believe that the number is somewhere closer to 2%. I considered the logic of basing a policy on such a small number, in comparison to the number of potential claimants who might be deterred by a change in policy. To me, the logic just wasn’t there.

Looking further into Home Office reports, I decided to see how many reports went on police record, looking in particular at rape claims. A 2013 Home Office study estimated a three-year average somewhere between 60,000 and 95,000 of people who experience rape every year. Somewhere between 16% and 26% of those estimated rapes end up on police records, or 15,670. Such a low number made me wonder why so few of these crimes were being reported. The report cited that a popular reason was that many victims ‘didn’t think the police could do much to help’. That got me thinking. If you’re already unsure of what the police could do to help you in such a situation, would it make things worse to know that the presumption of belief they once held as policy was to be lifted? Is this more or less likely to make potential victims report the crimes? Is this the kind of culture we want to create within the reporting system, in reaction to the very small number of cases that turn out to be false?

Of course, I understand that there are a minority of people who falsely accuse, and that the result of that causes a great deal of pain for many people involved in the process. The fact that this minority receives so much attention from the media, however, means that there is a risk of skewing our policies in their favour. I also fully understand that people want more than just to be believed. Full investigations conducted rigorously and with care are incredibly important not just in a legal sense, but in showing a complainant that their accusation is being taken seriously. However, the presumption of belief is a critical starting point for a culture that legitimises victims rather than silencing them.

I hope that by using statistics, I don’t come across like I’m reducing the topic to numbers. I have experienced the process of deciding whether or not to report rape, and that’s one of the reasons I was so interested in the topic. It just didn’t make sense to me to risk discouraging people from reporting sexual violence by removing the presumption of truth policy for the less than 5% minority of people who falsely accuse. It would be really interesting, for the sake of my own personal curiosity more than anything else, to hear other people’s thoughts on this: it’s a sensitive topic with scope for a myriad of opinions, and I did hope that Hogan-Howe’s suggestion would raise more voices, initiate more discussion, than it has. For me, I can only hope that the policy is not reversed, because for the short time it has been in place it has given me a glimmer of hope that the police force and the judicial system were finally starting to align with what I believe are really important principles in the discussion of sexual violence.

Originally posted on It Happens Here Durham's blog.

Why rape jokes are never acceptable

Last year, I wrote a blog post about rape jokes. It was a response to the most recent of many jokes my housemate had made over the year. At the time, it received some positive comments, and it seemed like people were relieved to see something written to try and address the issue. Unfortunately, though, the post hadn’t reached the person I wanted it to in the way I’d hoped. My friend spoke to my housemate the day after the post, and he was confounded by it. He didn’t see what the issue was, and anyway, he said, “it’s not like anyone in the house has been raped.”

There was the issue. He’d made an assumption about the environment in which he was making the jokes, based on no proof except the fact that no one had disclosed an experience of sexual violence to him personally.

It was clear that the arguments in my blog post hadn’t hit home. I linked to an article that described the effects of rape jokes on potential rapists, which has gained more and more relevance in the wake of studies like the one in Violence and Gender in 2014. With a significant proportion of people admitting that they would force someone into having sex, as long as the term ‘rape’ wasn’t used, it’s clear that jokes trivialising sexual violence could have an effect on more people than we might initially expect. After all, contrary to popular belief, rapists are not distinguished from ‘ordinary’ men by long black coats and an evil-looking disposition. Indeed, they are ordinary men. They are fathers, sons, brothers, friends and housemates. They are potentially people in the vicinity when you tell a rape joke. And by telling that joke – which trivialises and mocks the very act of violating a person’s basic human right – you are telling people that rape isn’t a serious subject, and that people can get entertainment out of it. In this sense, rape jokes – and jokes about all aspects of sexual violence – validate the thoughts of potential rapists, and can even empower them.

This argument doesn’t even begin to take into account the effect of these jokes on survivors of sexual violence. With a 2010 NUS report showing that 1 in 7 female students are subject to serious sexual or physical assault, and a 2015 report by The Telegraph asserting that 1 in 3 have endured sexual assault or unwanted advances, it seems obvious that jokes about sexual violence are deeply inappropriate on campus. One cannot make the assumption that no one in the vicinity has suffered sexual assault in some form with these statistics in mind. To that end, it seems obvious that making a joke that can have a profound effect on someone who hears it is morally wrong.

At this point, I can hear the cries of protest. “Jokes are meant to offend,” they’ll say. “You’re just being too PC! If jokes weren’t offensive, they wouldn’t be funny!”

I can think of lots of jokes that are funny without being offensive. The one about coral being stressed about current affairs is one of them. But without getting into the philosophy of joke-making, there’s an obvious reason not to make rape jokes. They are not just offensive, but they are potentially triggering for survivors who hear them. They demean those who have suffered sexual violence and trivialise their experience. They reinforce the rape culture that dominates university campuses around the UK. They are rooted in an aggressive and violent culture that normalises rape, diminishing the responsibility of rapists and the need to tackle such behaviour. It has been shown in studies that ‘dark humour’ is used by law enforcement officers to desensitise themselves to the scenes they witness as part of their job. This desensitising effect is the same in the case of rape jokes, but the agenda is very different. Rape jokes are not used to help people cope with emotionally taxing work, after all. Rather, they help to increase insensitivity to survivors and their families, thus contributing to the endless cycle of victim-blaming that pervades on and off campus.

If you’re not convinced by the arguments above, at least consider what making rape jokes means for you. Offensive jokes are often seen to represent the attitudes of the person making them towards the subject, even if that isn’t true. So while you don’t condone rape, what other people are hearing is that you do, and not just that: you find it funny. So if not for the survivors who might be triggered by them, or the potential perpetrators who may be empowered, don’t tell rape jokes for the sake of your own reputation. Think about what you’re promoting.

If you’re interested in reading further, more coherent articles about the effect of rape jokes, the links below are interesting:

A Scientific Case Against Rape Jokes

The Enjoyment of Sexist Humor, Rape Attitudes, and Relationship Aggression in College Students

A Visit to the Rape Room: Who Sees Humour in Sexual Assault?

Originally posted on It Happens Here Durham.

Egypt: state-sanctioned sexual violence

Image via Al Jazeera English

Egypt has seen a significant surge in sexual violence perpetrated by its own security forces since the military takeover in July 2013, according to a report by FIDH. The report, released in May, details the uses of state-sanctioned sexual violence against opponents of President el-Sisi’s regime, NGO representatives and common-law detainees, amongst other victims. It demonstrates the extension of sexual violence from the public sphere to police, state security and military personnel, and the weaponising of such abuse as an explicit form of state violence.

Interviews conducted with victims tell of sexual abuse ranging from sexual harassment, rape and sexual assault to genital electrocution and sex-based defamation. According to FIDH, sexual violence is used by officials to ‘eliminate public protests’ and ‘legitimise the authorities as guardians of the moral order’. Although women make up a significant number of those suffering the regime, members of the Muslim Brotherhood and other political dissidents are also being targeted.

Reports of state-sanctioned sexual violence follow a three-year period of increased mob rapes and sexual assaults following the revolution of January 2011. The FIDH report shows that the actions of the state highlight the increasingly direct role security forces are playing in the perpetration of sexual violence in Egypt. This trend differs significantly from the public announcements made by President el-Sisi’s government claiming their commitment to fighting sexual violence. In a world that is increasingly questioning the legitimacy and trustworthiness of authority, el-Sisi’s government joins a long line of state powers whose actions deeply conflict with their promises.

The history of sexual violence in Egypt does not, however, begin with el-Sisi’s government. As the FIDH report claims, sexual violence is a historic weapon of the Egyptian authorities. Protest movements in the 1990s saw baltagiya (gangs), deployed by the Ministry of the Interior to infiltrate groups of demonstrators, sexually assault women demonstrators with no interference by security forces. The May 2005 ‘Black Wednesday’ is a further example of sexual assault in the presence or knowledge of state officials, including officers of the Ministry of Interior and the riot police.

The history of sexual violence and torture in Egypt showcases the ability of authorities to weaponise such assault with ease. For women, sexual violence threatens to disgrace not only them, but also their families, because of the taboos of sex and its association with shame. Gay and transgender people are increasingly suffering under el-Sisi’s regime of sexual torture, too, demonstrating the intolerance against LGBTQ people despite no laws criminalising same-sex activity or alternative gender identities. For a government acting in the wake of a revolution, with the hopes of Cairo and the wider Egyptian population resting on their shoulders, el-Sisi’s promises to prioritise the fight against sexual violence was a promising start to a potentially revolutionary leadership. The FIDH report, however, has highlighted the false promises and the hypocrisy of the Egyptian government, and is likely to be the start of a further movement to expose and fight against state sexual violence in the country.

Originally published on The Global Panorama.

Your rape jokes aren't funny.

Trigger warning: rape, sexual violence.

My friend made a rape joke today.

It's not the first time he's told one, and he's not the only person I know who has, either. Today, after he said it, he turned around to catch my reaction and laughed when he got it. He knew that I'd be angry and that I'd object - and he found it funny.

The reason he found my reaction funny is because it fulfilled his expectations of how I'd react from the last time he told a rape joke. And the time before that. And the time before that. And backwards and backwards to the first time I told him that no, I didn't find it funny and yes, I did want him to stop.

A few days ago I got told to get a sense of humour when I was told a rape joke. Apparently, I was the person in the wrong. It was a rape joke! Everybody makes rape jokes! Who doesn't enjoy a rape joke? I must be the odd one out, the unreasonable one, the one who doesn't get it.

Herein lies one of the many, many problematic aspects of rape jokes. The fact that you're told to get a sense of humour when you don't laugh means one thing - that there are enough people who have responded to the jokes with laughter and smirks. That there are enough people who have affirmed the joker's belief that yes, rape jokes are funny.

Laughing at sexual violence, the violation of a person's human rights, the exploitation and abuse of a human being - it's completely normal. It's funny. Start laughing.

The thing is that most people defend rape jokes by saying that they'd never actually rape someone. Don't get me wrong, that's brilliant. Fab. I'm glad you don't intend on committing a sexual offence. Good for you. Have a cookie.

But by laughing, smiling, smirking at a rape joke, and by telling it in the first place, you're showing that there is a part of you - a public part of you - that finds rape funny. That you get entertainment from the concept of it. You're sending that vibe to the people around you.

I won't go into how rape jokes can affect rape survivors and potential rapists. That's already been done to a better standard than I ever could. I have never been raped, so I can't and won't speak for those who have. People are voicing their experiences and their feelings on the subject more and more, and that is a truly brilliant thing.

I won't go into detail about the facts and statistics surrounding rape and other forms of sexual violence. I'd like to think that people already know them, but let's be honest - even if they do, it won't stop the rape jokes.

Because most people who make rape jokes know what rape is. The content of their jokes shows that they know it's a violent, intrusive and deeply unsettling concept. They know it's a controversial topic - just like my friend showed when he glanced at me, waiting for my reaction, earlier today.

But do they know that rape jokes aren't funny? No. They wouldn't make them if they did. There is something ingrained in people that makes them think rape is funny. Despite the facts and figures, the survivor accounts and the social media buzz, they're still making the jokes, and they're still laughing. To them, it's funny that the extreme violation of someone's rights can be made into the butt of a joke. It's funny to make low-key contributions to the rape culture we're all living in, as members of this society. It's funny to watch the reactions of those who object. 

For the rest of us, though, rape isn't a joke. Sexual violence, domestic violence, any violence isn't a joke. To the people who make them into jokes - think about what you're endorsing, and think about what you're implying. Your rape jokes aren't funny.

In India, marriage is a sacrament, but women's rights are not

Photograph by Natesh Ramasamy via Flickr

The Indian Minister of State for Home Affairs, Haribhai Parthibhai Chaudhary, released a statement in April explaining the government’s stance on marital rape. He claimed that the concept could not be suitably applied to India because of factors including poverty, religious beliefs, social customs and the perception of marriage as a sacrament.

The statement follows two years after India’s Criminal Law (Amendment) Act, which explicitly stated that it would exclude marital rape on the grounds that ‘sexual intercourse or sexual acts by a man with his own wife, the wife not being under 15 years of age, is not rape.’

Since the gang rape of a young student in New Delhi in December 2012 triggered a national uprising against sexual violence in India, the government ratified laws to help combat harassment, assault and rape against women. Despite this, a survey published by Hindustan Times in December 2014 revealed that 91% of 2,257 women believed that the city had not become any safer for them. The report also stated that 97% of the women had faced sexual harassment.

The statement by Haribhai Parthibhai Chaudhary demonstrates the need for a complete reform in how India, and countries all over the world, perceives sexual violence. The statement claims that marriage is a sacrament but refuses to acknowledge that women’s rights within their marriages are as important as men’s. It does not see a woman’s right to refuse sex under any circumstances as being as sacred as the marriage itself.

By refusing to distinguish between consensual sex and marital rape, the government is disregarding the fact that marital rape is not a matter of sex, but one of violence. As Congress leader Shashi Tharoor stated in response to the government, ‘whether [rape] happens within a marriage or whether it happens outside, when you are guilty of violence, the state should criminalise it.’

The unclear definition of marital rape in India has consequently led to mixed reactions to the government’s statement. Kanimozhi Karunanidhi, the Member of Parliament, who initially raised the question of making marital rape an offence, opposed the government’s response. She argued that criminalising the concept ‘is not against values, ethos or tradition of India. It is about protecting women in our own country within the institution [of marriage].’

Supporters of the government’s reply have argued that criminalising marital rape could lead to husbands being falsely accused of rape, a stance that ignores the low probability of this happening in proportion to the number of women who are actually faced with marital rape on a daily basis. In fact, according to a study by the ICRW and the UNPFA, more than a third of the men surveyed admitted to having forced a sexual act upon their wives.

While India passes laws in an attempt to tackle the issues of sexual violence women face in their public life, it is of crucial importance to take steps to support their rights in their own homes, too. The Indian government must take measures to redefine its attitude towards sexual violence in the context of marriage if it truly wishes to support the safety of women in the country.

Originally published on The Global Panorama.

Why they didn't tell the university

Photograph: It Happens Here Durham

Trigger warning: rape, sexual violence and abuse, alchol abuse. Contains content some readers may find upsetting.

One in seven female students is a victim of serious sexual or physical assault. One in four is a victim of sexual violence in general. Ten percent of these students have reported the assault to the police, and only four percent to their university.

These figures, taken from an NUS ‘Hidden Marks’ survey in 2010, don’t include male survivors of sexual assault: even without these additional statistics, they depict a worrying cultural trend. Whilst sexual violence is disturbingly prevalent, the majority of survivors appear to feel unable to report their attacks to their institutions. Since its publication, the NUS report has sparked conversations in universities around the UK about the level of support offered to survivors of sexual violence and abuse, and about the quality of education that institutions are offering about the issue. It is becoming clear that universities – including Durham – need to offer more in the way of support and advice.

The survey also draws attention to the reasons why the other ninety-six percent of female students didn’t report their attackers: half said it was because they felt ashamed or embarrassed, and forty-three percent thought they would be blamed for what happened. Laura*, a former student who agreed to talk to Palatinate, said that she didn’t tell the university because she felt she wasn’t a ‘good victim’ – ‘I came to university really vulnerable because of lots of things that happened in my life before.’ She became involved in an abusive relationship. ‘I was raped and sexually assaulted a number of times both by him and by multiple other men. I reported the last rape, but I didn’t tell the university, partly because I was about to leave and partly because I don’t think he was a student. All the other sexual violence was from other students who were known to me. I couldn’t tell because I was convincing myself I could cope with it. I told myself I deserved it and could handle it myself.’

It has become clear over recent years that we need to create a supportive, compassionate environment at university which reaches out to survivors. This environment should include a network of people who are trained to deal specifically with sexual violence and support survivors in a positive, constructive way. ‘I can’t imagine how you would just go and tell all of this to a college tutor who has no experience in sexual violence,’ said Laura, of her own experiences. ‘The questions over why I had willingly sought out sex with a stranger, why I’d stayed in a relationship with a man who raped me, why I was abusing alcohol, why I was compliant with some of the violence – as a vulnerable, confused twenty-year-old, I didn’t even have the answers myself.’

Durham’s approach to sexual violence and abuse is changing with the introduction of sexual violence awareness campaigns, particularly the introduction of It Happens Here Durham. The organisation was set up with the aim of educating students about sexual violence and creating a safe place for all members of the community. Since its launch in September 2013, the organisation has led discussions about sexual assault and prompted change in and around the university, and its network of organisers has grown dramatically in recent months. It is creating a culture that gives survivors more options, better support, and a chance to share their story.

Working closely with the university to establish a clear, coherent policy on helping survivors, It Happens Here hopes to explore options for raising awareness about sexual violence and supporting students more directly. The group is using the most powerful tool available at university – the student voice – to initiate action and instigate change. Their hope is that Durham University will continue to engage in discussion and commit to change alongside the campaign. They firmly believe that it is the university’s duty to work to create a culture that supports survivors and educates the student body: It Happens Here, and its affiliated organisations, is the medium through which such a culture can be created.

For more information on the ‘It Happens Here’ campaign and how you can help, visit http://ithappensheredurham.wordpress.com, their Facebook page, or follow them on Twitter (@DU_HappensHere).

*Names have been changed.

Originally published on Palatinate Online.