Lately, there's been a frenzy of feminist activity in my life. I don't say this as a bad thing, I relish this whirlwind of passion, anger, support and all round feminist goodness amongst myself and my peers.
A prime example of this was Reclaim The Night (2015) which took place yesterday evening in the neighbouring town of Coventry. I had never been before, and frankly didn't even know what it was until I was invited to like the page on Facebook.
From that, I typically did extensive research into what it is and what it represents. I'm sure there is a more legitimate definition, but mine is as follows.. Reclaim The Night is a march welcoming all people who identify as female in some shape or form (including non-binary folk) to join together and fight for women's rights to feel safe when walking the streets alone at night without having to consider the ever-present possibility of sexual assault and violence, which is an ongoing issue, with street harassment being a personal issue for myself and women everywhere.
In all honestly, I was not sure what to expect, and when I first arrived, there weren't many people there at all. Initially this worried me. I knew that men harassing protesters would be inevitable (and it was), and there were strength in numbers. So the more women, the less comments we would receive. To both my relief and absolute joy, around 200 women were present when the march finally kicked off at around 7:00pm. There were whistles, glowsticks, balloons, and banners with sayings such as "No Means No" and "Stop Child Grooming" just to name two. All these women came from different towns, from different backgrounds, but we all had the same motive in common. We just wanted to be respected, and feel safe.
The first time I got harassed on the street (that I can remember) was when I was 14. I was a rather shy girl outside my close group of friends. In public, I wouldn't speak unless spoken to. I was overweight, I had braces, boys scared me. I was walking home in my uniform (tartan skirt, white shirt, blue jumper) when a group of men from across the street started whistling at me, making comments about my 'school girl outfit.' I stared at the floor and sped up, feeling as though I was going to throw up. I ran home, into my room, and cried for hours.
Since then, street harassment has never been a stranger to me. I was understandably naive to think that time when I was 14 would be the only incident. I've had men trying to look up my skirt to see how long my legs are, I've had men call me names quickly ranging from 'sweetheart' to 'fat ass bitch' when I didn't respond, I've been asked if I was a lesbian when I refused to let a man buy me a drink (god forbid he's not as thrilling as he believes himself to be).
The importance of events such as these cannot be stressed enough. It is a chance to relieve all the anger and fear you've bottled up every time a man has catcalled you from his car, not taken no as an answer, made you feel invalidated, felt entitled to your body, asked you to show him your 'tits' and then told you it was a joke when you got offended, called you a 'crazy bitch', made your stomach churn when you're walking home at night in a dress and heels. The list is endless.
What I also want to talk about, and what really struck me, was the inclusiveness of the whole event. I try my best to make a conscious effort to not view feminism and the oppression of women through a white, middle class, able bodied, cisgender perspective, and intersectionality is the cornerstone of any feminist ideology I support. This was immaculately incorporated by the women there. There were transgender women, disabled women, gender fluid women, black women, asian women, and just about every kind of woman you can imagine. Before the march began, the chairman of the event made a small speech, and included this one sentence:
"There is more than one way to be a woman."
Throughout the whole evening, we were politely reminded to respect gender pronouns, sexuality, and there was disabled access in the building we finished the march in. Following that, speeches were made about how sexism affects women differently based on their identity. I want to assume that these women want to keep their stories confidential, and so I will not be sharing anything specific, but it was a definitive wake up call that I think I definitely needed. Yes, I experience sexism, massively so, but not in the same way another woman would.
For me, Reclaim The Night was not only an evening dedicated to affirming a woman's right to feel safe in their own town, but it made me feel like my view on the importance of feminism was solidified. I am a feminist, and thanks to Reclaim The Night, unashamedly so.
