White Ribbon Day causes harm to women who have survived men’s violence.
Seeing a man like Mike Baird wearing a white ribbon, a man who ripped apart women-run services, re-traumatises women who have survived domestic violence. This is a man who, with great fanfare, announced the appointment of a Minister for the Prevention of Violence Against Women, while homicides by men against their intimate partners – that is, women who they lived with or who were trying to leave – increased by 40 per cent.
So the Baird strategy is an abject failure, with which women have paid with their lives.
Baird treats our safety from men who bash and kill women as an asset-stripping exercise. Baird and Abbott and Turnbull take women’s services, strip us of everything that has been built up over 40 years, and defund us on hyper-ideological pretences.
As a religious man, Baird then hands what is left – the social services equivalent of a shell company – to client donors, to organised religion, to Mission Australia and the Salvation Army and St Vincent de Paul aka the Catholic Church.
These are organisations which, on the evidence, should never be given responsibility over the lives of women and children. These organisations take children from mothers who have been traumatised by men; these organisations have, for centuries, been staffed by men who rape and otherwise mistreat children. And women.
In my household, where I alone have been responsible for feeding and clothing and educating and keeping safe three children, White Ribbon Day is a day to take a deep breath and remember that my society, and my government, sees us as an opportunity for a fancy breakfast and a lapel pin.
I remember back then, fourteen years ago now, wondering what it would be like to get through an entire day without thinking about safety first, without obsessing over where we had been, about what we had escaped. I remember wondering if I would ever live a day without the flashbacks every hour, the horrors every night.
But time really does heal all wounds. Through soccer seasons and camping trips and social media connections and being our fabulous selves, we have become people who are not defined by a man’s violence. Time and love and family and friends and music and having a job and education and sport and safety – all of these together healed the wounds.
Above all, safety.
Every time I unlock the front screen door, fourteen years later, there is still that tiny moment. I take a breath, and remember past fears, and give thanks for being able to walk into my front yard without checking for potential danger. It is a muscle memory thing, a bodily reminder. Moving into a house with a lockable screen door and a gate was a revelation. A gate! I could not believe how safe I felt. I had never felt so safe.
We are still safe. Due to eternal vigilance. Due to my strength and resilience, and that of my children, and to family and friends who supported us through hell and high water – where hell and high water is a euphemism for the violence and the threat of violence perpetrated by an adult man who said he “loves” us.
In those years, I completed a law degree. I enrolled in post-graduate study. I had the benefit of a comprehensive social safety net that allowed me to parent and to work. I bought the house with the gate. I have seen one child into the adult world, with two more on their way. I do this with enormous privilege, with tertiary-educated whiteness, with family support, with friends who praise and do not judge, with the universal education and universal healthcare – and income support when needed – that are the cornerstones OR SHOULD BE THE CORNERSTONES of our society.
And every year, I shed furious tears and shake with anger and pain when White Ribbon Day comes around. At this organisation made up of members who know nothing, absolutely nothing, about men’s violence against women and children. This organisation which causes trauma, by minimising and trivialising the cause, the source, the problem. This organisation which paralyses my otherwise normalised existence, which reminds me again, as though I needed reminding, how little our society cares about people like us.
White Ribbon compels women to mobilise, to donate free research, to volunteer valuable time, to combat the myths and victim-blaming which it unreflectively reproduces. White Ribbon is white patriarchy, it is men dominating the message, it is damaging and harmful to women and children. Like the organisations to which women’s services have been handed, the corporate interests and organised religion (same thing), White Ribbon does enormous harm and precious little good.
Dear White Ribbon. Please get out of the public sphere. Shut yourself down. Forever.