Text Me When You Get Home
Words by Anna Mac.
TW: for mentions for rape, sexual assault and harassment.
“Text me when you get home”, my friend cried out as I left the relatively safe neighbourhood to walk home at dusk. “Text me when you get home” my sister told me when I left the pub to venture on my journey through brightly lit streets. “Text me when you get home”, I say to my friends and family to ensure they reach their destination safe and securely. Letting our friends and family know when we are home safely is a message each of us women have sent countless times.
Why is this text message so important? Are we scared our fellow women are going to do something wrong on their way back home? Or are we scared that they will run into trouble? The news of Sarah Everard has been devastating. Sarah Everard phoned her boyfriend. She walked through bright, well-lit streets. 9pm is not an ungodly hour to walk home alone. She was wearing headphones on the trip home. Her disappearance has acted as a catalyst for an argument all over the media, with many members of the public victim blaming Sarah Everard for her own disappearance. “She shouldn’t have been listening to music”, or “she should have gotten a taxi home”. How about teaching attackers that it’s not okay to prey on innocent women? Why must we be regulated and not the actions of men? Should women not be allowed to walk home alone when there is no public transport?
It was a dark evening in Strasbourg when I got off the subway train at the wrong stop. When I realised I had gone too far, I hopped off at the next closest stop and whipped out my phone to study Google Maps. A man who had also left the subway at the same time was staring at me from across the road. I was engrossed in my phone, and being in a foreign territory, I was not familiar with my surroundings. He approached me and asked for a lighter. I complied, expecting him to go about his night, but he didn’t. He started to approach me and I backed away, telling him to leave me alone. He didn’t and attempted to make conversation while edging closer. So I ran. And he followed. I ran for maybe half a mile, all the while scurrying to make a phone call to let someone know that a man was following me. I sprinted up the road through an archway of terrifying trees until I was finally in a bright street. I looked behind me, and he was nowhere to be seen. I did not take the subway alone again.
How many times have we noted our surroundings on our phones. How many times have we shared our locations when we are walking alone. How many times have we made a fake phone call or crossed the street to avoid someone. How many times have women been catcalled, followed or sexually assaulted when walking down the street. I know I have. I know my friends have. I know that it is in fact not safe to be a woman minding my own business. We are subject to assault, rape, and often murder, just by simply being.
Victim blaming is not a topic that should even be debated - the only person to blame is the attacker. Time and time again has the argument of “she was asking for it” been mentioned among peers, in the media and even in rape court cases. After the #MeToo movement, consent was spoken about thoroughly, yet it still does not seem to be understood by many sex offenders. No means no, and if you do it anyway, it is assault. I don’t care what signals you think you are receiving; if a woman says no, it means no.
Data has been released that 97% of young women in the UK have been sexually harassed. 97%!
The number may be high, but surprising? Ask any young woman you know if they have been sexually harassed. I can almost guarantee the answer. On March 11, #notallmen was trending on Twitter. This was a vocal point for men to express their frustration of being categorised as perpetrators. It’s true, not all men behave in ways that make women uncomfortable, scared or in danger. But when a woman is in this position and feels unsafe, it is often a man that is the threat, and that is a fact. So instead of standing up for manhood, why not try to understand the fear we have when walking down the street, going to the shop or being alone in any public space? If not all men commit harassment, yet with a figure like 97% of women experiencing such treatment, it is clear that some men do.
Men, I ask of you this: stand in solidarity with the victims of assault. Speak up and let your peers know what they are doing may be wrong. Stop objectifying women. Do not approach a woman who is alone. Do not engage in non-consensual activity. It is assault. It is rape.
Sarah Everard could have been any of us. She is all of us. We need to be safe on our streets.