I hoped things would be better by now.

Many years ago in a country town a woman I worked with was the victim of a murder/suicide. She had tried to leave her partner numerous times after years of violence, had finally succeeded and begun to rebuild her life. He stalked her, harassed her, abused her when collecting his children for access visits, threatened her family, friends and workers and finally he shot her, and then himself. An awful tragedy the town said, a dreadful thing for the children to lose both their parents. How incredibly sad that he was so distraught that he could see no other way, what a pity no-one saw how desperate he was. The two families agreed that it was just that – a dreadful tragedy – and that for the sake of the children their parents would be buried together in the same grave. Even in death she did not escape him. Even in death her experience was negated.
That was over twenty years ago. I hoped that things would be better by now. I hoped we would have learnt more.

I read the news and see another woman dead, another child killed, another murder/suicide after separation and I wonder, between 1990 and now, has anything really changed?

When I was growing up in the 70’s in a small town, I remember conversations that went:
“He slaps her around when he’s drunk, but she asks for it..”
“He belted her up ..that’ll teach her to flirt with other men…”
“A man has to keep his woman in control…”
I remember my mother tending the bruised and battered face of a neighbour and shaking her head, but no-one suggested she leave, or get help, or call the police.
In 2014 there are STILL a percentage of Australians who believe that a level of violence against women is acceptable. We are still having the same conversations, making the same excuses, having the same arguments. Whenever I have given information sessions on domestic violence, there are some questions which come up again and again. Across fifteen years, a number of communities, and a range of ages and genders, socio-economic backgrounds, educational levels, I can be almost certain someone will ask:
‘Why doesn’t she just leave?”
“Aren’t there some women who like it?”
“If she didn’t like it why’s she still with him?
“What about the men, I know a man whose wife used to hit him…”
“Yeah, but sometimes women just push a guy over the edge”
“But what if she’s sleeping around?”

I really, really hoped that things would be better by now. I really hoped we would not be answering the same questions.

In recent years, I doubt there is anyone who has not seen the anti-smoking campaigns. We see adds on TV, on our bus shelters, in clubs, pubs and other venues, in our newspapers and magazines, our kids learn in school about the health issues of smoking. In the course of twenty years smoking has gone from an acceptable and accepted behaviour, something most people did at work, in trains, in restaurants, to an unacceptable and anti-social behaviour. Strangers often do not hesitate to tell someone to stop smoking, children can all tell you that smoking kills, smoking in a public place will earn you looks of contempt, disgust or pity. What do you think would happen if we addressed violence against women in the same way? I know we do have campaigns, slogans, posters and events, but have we ever, as a community, instigated the same level of campaign against violence? What if every child could tell you ‘violence is bad for us’ in the same way that most kids can and will tell you ‘smoking will kill you.’? What if a raised voice, a raised hand, an unwanted sexual touch, a sexist joke, a threat drew the same level of censure as lighting up a cigarette in a shopping centre?

I hoped that things would be better by now.

I have been privileged in my life to work with some amazing women, with women claiming their lives and their children’s lives back from abuse, violence and despair. I have seen women build meaningful lives on the ruins of their childhood, seen women leave violence after five, ten, twenty years and reclaim themselves, rebuild their lives make a loving and safe home for their children. I am continually awed by the resilience of women, their capacity to survive, but I keep arriving at one conclusion. THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE TO.
I have worked with, known, seen women of all ages – from 15 to 70 plus – who are fleeing, escaping, dealing with, hiding from, bleeding from, dying from violence. I had hoped that by now our younger women would not be dealing with this. I had hoped that my generation would be the last to live in fear.

We still do not have enough funding for refuges, enough workers on the ground, enough economic support, enough affordable housing, In some of these essential areas we have less than we did in the 90’s.We still do not have enough understanding of the dynamics of violence, particularly in our law enforcement agencies, our Court system, and our child protection system. We still do not have enough people willing to challenge sexism and misogyny, enough counsellors, enough support for children, enough effective education programs for young women and men, enough compassion and enough balls to lay responsibility, to take a stand, to speak out in our homes, communities, schools, workplaces, to hold abusers accountable, to stop victim blaming.

I admire and support recent campaigns; I stand beside my sisters to protest, to march, to rally, to educate and to speak up, speak out and work for change. I will keep fighting, challenging, marching, lobbying.

But, you see, I thought we had already broken the silence. I thought we had already shone the light on the reality of women’s lives.

I remember breaking the silence in the 80’s, in the 90’s, and in this century, again and again. I have tee shirts and posters from the 70’s on that proclaim ‘Break the Silence, End the Violence’.
I hoped things would be better by now.

What does it mean when the silence needs to be broken again and again? Could it be that, as a society, we don’t WANT to hear? Could it be that accepting that the greatest risk to women and children is at the hands of those who purport to ‘love’ them questions too many of our myths? Could it be that accepting that the family is the most dangerous place for women and children is just TOO FUCKING CONFRONTING. Could it be that acknowledging the reality of many women’s lives across the globe and in our own country might actually mean that we have to take real action, that we have to provide the services and support that women and children need to be safe, that we have to start asking the right questions, and questioning our own role in colluding, ignoring, pretending, that we have to take and continue to take a stand against every act of misogyny, rape culture, harassment, that we have to lay the blame solely and strongly with the abuser and with a society that still condones, supports, ignores, excuses violence against women?

You know, I really hoped that things would be better by now.