Category: Sexism

by Jayne Ozanne, Editor of ViaMedia.News following her C4 News interview

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who was brought up being told:

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but calling names never hurt me”

I never did believe this, and I still don’t.  Names do hurt!  Words do hurt!  In fact, they can do irreparable damage.

At worst they can incite hatred, feed fear and lead to a hardening of prejudices that demonise “the other”.

At best they can bless, and bring hope and understanding, which in turn can bring life.

In my studies of International Diplomacy at Oxford University, I learnt about the relatively new theory of Constructivism within International Relations.  It is the study of how rhetoric can be used to create norms and practices in our society, for good and for ill, which in turn can affect power structures.

Norms and practices – the building blocks that determine what type of society we live in.  It is this that unites us, and indeed what define us – and it is these norms and practices that are ever evolving and changing.

What is “normal” for some can become a cloak for abuse by others.  Indeed, what may seem harmless playground banter to some will be seen as an aggressive attack on liberties by others.  Words count – the context in which they are spoken, count; and the person uttering them, counts.

Hence the uproar when a serving Cabinet Minister makes a crass schoolboy joke live on air, without – dare I say – any reproach from his interviewers.  For some it was a poor attempt at humour.  For others it was yet again an example of words re-enforcing a “norm” that has been for too long accepted by society – that of undermining the seriousness of sexual harassment encountered by women.  This is no laughing matter – especially by privileged heterosexual men who should know better.  The norm must change – and to do that the rhetoric must change.

The Apostle James had much to say about the power of the tongue, it “is a fire, a world of iniquity.”  He even went on to say that “no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.” It is indeed the most powerful weapon we each have.

Without thinking we can wreak havoc and devastation in someone’s life, especially if we are seen to reinforce a norm that has served to create a prison cell.  As Sigmund Freud said: “Words have a magical power. They can either bring the greatest happiness or the deepest despair.”

I am conscious that here, on radio, we have only our words – making it even more essential that every single one counts.

Perhaps it is better to recall what Mother Theresa herself said:
“Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.”

The following is written by a serving gay Church of England clergyman, who has asked for his identity to be kept anonymous.

I read the anonymous piece, titled, “A Zero Tolerance Approach to the Weinsteins in the Church?” sadly with very little surprise.  Any institution is going to have those who don’t respect the space, bodies, emotions or lives of others, who use or abuse others for their own pleasure, entertainment or career progression.  The Church won’t be immune to it, and the sooner it is acknowledged and dealt with, the sooner we can continue.

I recognise that the #MeToo campaign is principally about giving women a voice to share their experiences of abuse, and I don’t want to take anything away from that.  This is their campaign, not mine, and it is an important one, if we’re to truly face up to the misogyny, inequality, physical-, emotional- and spiritual abuse that goes on in the Church today.

However, I did want to mention some of my own experiences as a gay man in the Church of England. I recognise that these will pale in comparison … mine aren’t tales of physical or sexual abuse, but hopefully it helps shed more light on what occurs, and may encourage others to share their experiences.  When the power structures are patriarchal and geared towards preserving patriarchy, there is an imbalance of power against all those who don’t identify as heterosexual, cisgendered men.

As a gay curate, I had experience of this imbalance of power on a number of occasions.  I had a straight male colleague constantly making inappropriate and overtly sexual comments and jokes in my presence.  At the time, I was still in the closet.  Whether the comments were to make me feel uncomfortable, or just exert his power over me as a straight, cisgendered man, I may never know, but I do remember thinking how inappropriate they were.  He used to tell explicit sexual jokes in the presence of confirmation candidates under the age of 18 as well, and I think he believed it made him look cool.

In one parish I worked in, a gay male colleague decided it was entirely appropriate to make highly inappropriate and overtly sexual comments to me … sometimes these comments were even about sex with me.  These comments were on occasion even made in the vestry before or after a Sunday service, and went on for years.

I have been winked at in the sanctuary, had other men comment on parts of my body, or how much they love that type of male body.  I have had lewd or crude comments on social media.

On too many occasions when a male colleague finds out that you’re gay, it seems to give them permission to speak openly about gay sex, or to ask really explicit and invasive questions.  It may be that they feel empowered by the permission that they feel a document like “Issues in Human Sexuality” has given them to probe into one’s personal lives … a probing they would be appalled at if it were directed towards them.

Some of the behaviour and comments would be considered sexual harassment at worst, highly inappropriate at best.  None of this behaviour should be permissible in any workplace, least of all the Church.

I have only once felt able to challenge the clergy person who made such comments.  In many years of ministry, I’ve just found it really uncomfortable and found ways to not work with that colleague again or to work with them as little as possible.  I’m not sure what would happen – if anything – if these comments were brought to light.  Can an organisation without Equal Opportunities policies for it’s clergy ever effectively address matters such as these?

It seems that the Church (capital “C”) is so obsessed with the sexual lives of LGBT people – to the point where it is incapable of acknowledging any other aspects of our lives, such as our hopes, dreams, loves, gifts or calling.  Sadly, it has successfully reduced us in the eyes of some people to sexual objects, with whom you can be explicit and inappropriate without any fear of consequences.

It seems particularly that many cisgendered heterosexual men feel they have a freedom to discuss or rule over the bodies and private lives of anyone that doesn’t identify as they do, and that if you’re not a cisgendered heterosexual man, you’re expected to be pure and subservient and comfortable with your biology and sexuality being the object of scrutiny, fascination, humour, advances and inappropriate remarks and behaviour.

It is this power imbalance, and the dishonesty behind it, that I believe fuels misogyny, homophobia, biphobia, transphobia and creates an environment where people feel empowered to abuse that sense of power and privilege.

Only by naming it and recognising it can we ever have any hope of addressing it, and that’s why I’m sharing my experiences now – in the hope that as a Church, we can change and become a place of true holiness and grace.

The following is written by a serving Church of England clergywoman, who has asked for her identity to be kept anonymous.

What a den of iniquity Hollywood is! Harvey Weinstein accused of molesting all those women – even a man – and yet no one felt able to speak out till now!

But what of the Church?  The place where we speak of the love of God, of His forgiveness, where Holy Communion is celebrated. Church, we preach, should be a safe haven for all – safe from the likes of Weinstein.  Shouldn’t it?

I am now middle aged and have been intimately involved in the Church all my life.  For most of that time, I have felt loved and nurtured in the faith community. However, sadly I know from personal experience and observation that we, the Church, have people like Weinstein in our midst…even amongst the clergy.  I speak of clergy who flirt and make inappropriate remarks to women, making it impossible for that woman to feel that they can safely access pastoral care from that priest.  Clergy who touch women without their consent – no matter how “innocently”, who make sexual advances, who sexually assault and even rape.  We have clergy in our midst who prey upon women at vulnerable times in their life, luring them with their “best pastoral skills” and then using the opportunity to emotionally and sexually abuse.

Surprised?  Like any other walk of life, it happens!  But why do women not report these clergy?  Why do they not speak out?

Let me explain – based on my own experience.

Many of these clergy are married and so the victim often knows the perpetrator’s wife and family.  They are aware that if they report the matter, in reality the abuser will receive minimal justice and if he is found guilty, then it is his wife and family who will pay the highest price.  You may say that that I’m being melodramatic, but what do you think happens to the perpetrators’ families in these circumstances?  It is they who lose their home and as many do not have any other housing provision, they are left with nowhere to go.  The victim knows this will be the price, so they choose to stay silent.

Sadly, many of us women are very used to being assaulted or molested – you only have to look at the significant number of people responding to the #metoo campaign to see this.  However, arguably one of the saddest findings from these public revelations is that so many thought it was not bad enough to report.

I have often heard male clergy talk of ‘Cassock Chasers’; that is, women who “fancy clergy and chase after them”.  In the same way that woman are terrified of being labelled ‘bunny boilers’, church women are afraid of being called ‘cassock chasers’. So, they say nothing.  This is also tied in with a fear of not being believed.  “Remember that Father So and So? He does such a lovely funeral.  He has wonderful pastoral gifts and does fantastic work in the community”.  Who is going to believe that he is capable of such a terrible sexual assault?  No, it is the woman who must be deluded – she must be making it all up.

Many women think they are the only ones that this has happened to and in a culture where ‘victim blaming’ is so prevalent, women often blame themselves, wondering if they somehow provoked the assault.

It is not until accusations are finally made that others then come forward.  This in turn can lead to accusations that people are just ‘jumping on the bandwagon’. Not at all!  It is a realisation from victims that they are not alone and that finally, collectively they will be believed. It can take a long time for victims to come forward, sometimes not until after the death of the perpetrator, because only then does the victim feel safe enough to do so.

Most will agree that talking about even a positive sexual encounter with someone who is unknown to you, such as your doctor, is difficult.  However, talking about a sexual encounter that violated you, made you feel dirty, ashamed and frightened with unknown “officials” is almost impossible.

As a newly ordained person, I am even more acutely aware of the power of the clerical collar.  I have felt incredibly privileged to hear the personal stories of strangers, who felt trust in what I stand for when wearing my collar.  It breaks my heart thinking of people – often the most vulnerable in our midst – who have put their trust in their clergy, the very same who go on to misuse that trust for their own ends.

It seems to me that we need to develop Zero Tolerance attitude in our churches for inappropriate sexualised behaviour of any kind, however “low level” it may seem.  If people are to encounter God, they need to be an environment that feels safe.  Clergy promise to fashion their lives in the way of Christ and this should be apparent in their conduct and engagement with others, especially those who are vulnerable. Victims must be heard and believed. Even if their case doesn’t end up in court, knowing that the Church listened lovingly and carefully, and then disciplined clergy appropriately, will go a long way to making our church a safer place to be.  It will send a very powerful message that the church is not a soft target for those who choose to do evil.

At our Baptism, we promise to resist evil.  That promise is revisited in the ordination vows.  Clergy and lay people alike must be committed to that promise, even when it means resisting the evil in our midst.

In writing this article, I have focused on the experience of women only because I feel that it is not my place to speak for men.  I would like to acknowledge however that there are many men out there who have experienced similar situations to the ones I have highlighted, and it would be good to hear their voices too.

I have not felt able to put my name to this article because I have seen at very close quarters, how victims are treated and made to feel that they are the ones who have issues and need to ‘get over it’.  We never ‘get over it’, but we learn to live with it and those of us who go on to be ordained do so, in part, because we believe it must be better to do pastoral ministry better and because we believe strongly in those ordination vows.

by the Revd Charlotte Bannister-Parker, University Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford

This week the world has seen a dramatic fall from grace for one of the movie industry’s highest-profile producers. We all know the story by now: the one where the movie mogul is said to have used his power and might to sexually abuse young vulnerable women.

As the story flashed across news headlines and TV networks, the true horror of it began to sink in. The alleged abuse of power was for years an “open secret” which caused so many women physical and psychological trauma, and the whole matter was treated as taboo – perpetuating through silence and denial. Many women felt shameful and worthless, fearing that they might meet with retaliation if they spoke out. They feared being called a troublemaker, or that they might jeopardise their jobs – their careers and livelihoods. This is why they kept silent: they did not feel safe to admit their experiences, to themselves or to others. As one actress said, that was due “partly because of the feeling of shame but partly because you do not want to be defined by it. The thought of going to the police felt intolerable. What would I say? Should I have screamed louder? Fought him off harder? Had I been complicit in some way? All these questions raged in my mind. I wept”. And we all know that silence is the residue of fear. Many found it too difficult to admit to having been raped or sexually violated, believing that there was no protection against the violator.

It would seem also that such perpetrator of sexual harassment have no empathy, no awareness, and no remorse. Their alleged action are totally unacceptable: exploitative, cruel, and humiliating.

What happens in Hollywood was not an incident isolated to one man, one industry, one country. We should not be surprised at the reality of sexual harassment and rape is an issue that affects all ages, all genders, all backgrounds, all races, all ethnicities, all places of work, and many homes all over the world. A headline from today’s Guardian – “Gymnast alleges years of sexual abuse by team doctor from the age of 13”. And in the Times: “Police worker ‘raped female crime victim’”.

My first real expose to the issues was when I worked in South Africa – once referred to as the “rape capital of the world” – in a safe-house for women fleeing from domestic violence and rape. The testimonies I heard from the women sheltering in the home were some of the most frightening and horrific one could ever imagine. At one point, during a counselling session, I had to leave the room to vomit as I had such a violent physical reaction to the stories I heard. Kelvin King, reporting for News 24, said that South Africa is known for having one of the highest cases of “infant rape” in the world. It is understood that this atrocious scourge is driven by the “Virgin Cure” myth – the belief that sex with a virgin girl cures HIV/AIDS and other sexually-transmitted diseases. South Africa having the highest HIV/AIDS population in the world, and with a poor level of education, it’s understandable how this myth can be so widely accepted. The country notoriously coined the term “Corrective Rape” in 2000. This rape of lesbians, in an attempt to “cure” their sexuality, is happening still.  But there is always hope, and this can be a turning point. No one – male, female, young, old, gay, straight, from any racial background or religion – can continue to walk blind on this issue. This is now in the hands of all of us to change.

We can help by telling our stories to each other, so victims do not feel quite so alone, and make others understand the breadth and depth of the problem. I was shocked this week that every woman I have spoken to has  experienced verbal or physical sexual harassment and abuse. How many might have been able, sadly, to use the hashtag #metoo?

But also this week, I was extremely moved by the change in awareness expressed by a young man in his email sent to a friend of mine. He said “men clearly need to acknowledge this is their problem. It seems I/we’ve been too passive in tackling this, not only on a personal basis, but we need to be part of the change in the wider world. #HowIWillChange? I’ll change by better calling out disgusting behaviour and not letting this misogyny creep into my own behaviour anymore, and being an open ear to anyone wanting to talk about how they’ve suffered”.

We can increase our support of charities and NGOs that seek to find all a safe space to talk – like RAINN, Americas’ largest anti-sexual violence organisation, which is trying to create a higher profile and greater impact. RAINN fosters learning in a safe and encouraging environment, and produces statistics and facts around this sensitive issue. For instance, a recent statistic: “Among undergraduate students, 23.1% of females and 5.4% of males experience rape or sexual assault through physical force, violence, or incapacitation.”

Finally, none of us must remain silent. The challenge is now to make sure that walls of separation between public persona and private action come down. We are all called to task to make sure that what Jesus calls our outer world is a reflection of our inner one. As he said to the outwardly observant but inwardly uncompassionate Pharisees: “You are like whitewashed tombs that look beautiful on the outside but inside are full of dead people’s bones and every kind of impurity”. (Matthew 23 27-28). In the church we have a responsibility to expose, to bring into the light, abusive, inappropriate behaviour. The Archbishop of Canterbury is leading the way on this; only this week he has personally apologised to a survivor of sexual abuse for his office’s failure to respond to 17 letters seeking help and redress. Justin Welby has recognised that the Church of England has the responsibility, but also the “gift” to provide “ongoing pastoral care to victims and survivors of clergy abuse if it so wishes.”

We should look now to the future. As horrible as this situation is, I think society has never been as collectively conscious and opposed to these issues as we are now. That is in itself something to give us hope. What concerns God is the direction we are going in, and how brave we can be to break the silence.