Shame, Blame, and Silence

Sexual violence has been in the news in the UK a lot this week. As distressing as it can be to hear about such awful crimes, I am always glad when society is forced to examine the attitudes and practices that maintain the unhealthy status quo. Ignoring sexual violence does not make it go away. I hope that, as we are challenged to confront the reality of sexual violence, those who are keeping secrets of crimes committed against them will be better able to break their silence.

Tuesday saw the release of the independent report into child sexual abuse in Rotherham, and the council's failure to protect the estimated 1400 children exploited over a 16 year period.

The majority of the perpetrators in the Rotherham case were men of Pakistani heritage, and the majority of the victims were white British girls. These facts have led some (particularly in the right wing press) to query whether fear of being seen as racist was what prevented action being taken against the perpetrators of these crimes. I think this type of accusation is an oversimplification, which ignores how complicated attitudes are toward sexual violence.

On Radio Four's PM programme this week, an anonymous educational engagement officer from Sheffield shared his experience of working with looked after children, with the brief of improving their school attendance. This man's frustration was clear; his work to get the best outcomes for these vulnerable children has been repeatedly blocked, by management with skewed priorities.

(This is the link to the programme: listen from about 33:30. It will only be online until Wednesday 3rd September. I may attempt to transcribe it...)

I would recommend listening to it if you can, but here are two horrifying points made:

"The majority of girls that I was dealing with were known to be sexually exploited, and one or two trafficked - openly." The majority.

"It was accepted as normal behaviour for a girl in looked after local authority care to be vulnerable to and involved in sexual exploitation." Normal. 

Yesterday, the Guardian website published the story of Ruzwana Bashir, a British-Pakistani woman from Skipton, who was abused by a neighbour from the age of ten. Having left for university at 18, it took Bashir ten years before she felt able to return to Skipton, and tell the truth about what happened. It was then that she met a further challenge: the shame and blame.

"When I first told my mother about the abuse I’d suffered, she was absolutely devastated. The root of her anger was clear: I was heaping unbound shame on to my family by trying to bring the perpetrator to justice... She begged me not to go to the police station. "

I find real inspiration in Bashir's story. She refused to bow to the shame, blame, and silence which would otherwise have kept her from seeking justice. Because of this, the perpetrator was imprisoned for eight years, and two other victims have broken their silence.

With support, we can all break the silence. These are not our secrets.