Issue 113 / April-May 2021

THE FINAL
SAY
“When authority
is built on the back
of racism and
misogyny, how can
it keep us safe?”
Music venues and nightclubs are essential arenas for communality and
expression. While we await their reopening, Mary Olive questions the extent
they offer refuge and safe space for women, transgender and non-binary people.
[Trigger Warning] Mention of sexual abuse, assault,
harassment
I’ve written so many new openings for this piece
over the past few weeks. Searching somewhere for
words. It’s been deeper than writer’s block. It’s an
exhaustion I feel deep to my bones.
To be honest, I don’t want to have to keep writing
about these issues. But then, I see the pain of my sisters
and non-binary siblings and I find myself writing even
more. It hurts me because I have lived it too.
A few years ago, I was sexually assaulted. And
afterwards, I cloaked myself in shame. The hurt sank so
deep into my being I found it hard to trust the world. Since
then, I found my voice as a writer and I promised to be a
protector. A one-woman army. I swore I would make it
mean something. To push that fire in my belly to fuel some
change, somehow, somewhere. And so, here we are.
I am telling you this because I need you to know I
understand this pain. Having been groped, grabbed, cat
called and rated out of ten since my school days I need a
moment to push back. If this makes you uncomfortable
you need to keep reading.
To all the beautiful women, transgender and nonbinary
people reading this, I see you. Especially the
women of colour who are still to this day alarmingly
vulnerable. You have always been worth the world and
more and you should not have to fight for your peace. I
am tired too.
To the men reading, I am talking to you directly now.
Pay attention.
The fact is our city is not a safe place for everyone.
One of the most dangerous places for anyone who is not
a man is a nightclub or music venue. I cannot tell you the
amount of times I have experienced sexual harassment
from men in these spaces. It happens in every single
music venue in Liverpool. It happens everywhere.
It will always hurt to watch some promoters spend
all of their time, money and energy into creating their
idea of an ideal event, but actively chose to ignore the
safety of their crowd. It is not good enough. It has never
been good enough.
Liverpool can be a very ugly place sometimes. A “city
of music” which, instead of protecting its women, will
name an airport after a man who beat them up.
If you are waiting for a wake-up call, this is it.
So how do we grow through this? A starting point is
increasing the visibility of women, transgender and nonbinary
people at music events, including all job roles and
the people in the crowd. I always feel more relaxed when
the space I am entering is not male dominated. It’s like a
bloody breath of fresh air.
People who are not male want to feel thought of and
recognised when entering music events. We want to feel
like the space accommodates us rather than having to
accommodate the (often hyper masculine) space. Visible
cues to tell the crowd what the promoter’s/event’s values
are is a really simple way of making people feel safe.
I would love to see femineity and gender nonconformity
celebrated more at music events; for people
to empower one another and for spaces to feel safe
for exploration of gender expression and sexuality.
There are, of course, places that do this (usually ran by
the LGBTQ+ community or women) and I’d love to see
that energy spill out into everything. Maybe I’m just an
optimist, but I still hold hope for that utopia.
For now, we must acknowledge that we do have
a problem with safety at music events. This has to be
addressed and properly confronted by everyone if we
want to move past it.
The first place I go to for comfort when I feel unsafe
at an event is the bathroom.
Here, I find myself surrounded by my sisters and
non-binary siblings who understand. Here, we kiss each
other’s faces, swap lipstick and have a cry if we need to.
And then, once we’ve caught our breath, we head
back out into the arena.
This is because bouncers do not make me feel safe.
I have experienced more harassment than reassurance
from male security guards to feel comforted by their
presence.
We need to see specific staff training for how to
handle sexual harassment. There has to be a complete
zero tolerance policy for this.
GOOD NIGHT OUT is a brilliant organisation offering
workshops and training of this kind. Some venues in
Liverpool have already started working with them and I
urge more promoters, venues owners and music industry
professionals to follow.
The prospect of undercover police circling the
dancefloor does not fill me with hope for when events
do return. It feels like the government are pouring petrol
onto a forest fire.
Police officers have been heavily criticised for
abusing power countless times just this past year, from
racial profiling to sexual violence. Understandably, their
presence does not always make people feel protected.
Our institution is run by people with the exact same
mindset as the people who abuse us in nightclubs. When
authority is built on the back of racism and misogyny,
how can it keep us safe? While the system still protects
the lives of abusers more than the lives of those abused
it cannot serve its people.
Instead, we need to see empowerment at the roots
of our communities. We need to rebuild what we have
made. Education is the real to key to all of this.
I can’t put everything into one piece, it is too big a
conversation. But I will say this. You, now in this very
moment can bring about change. You have the power to
grow and help others to heal as you work to amplify the
voices around you.
It’s the jokes your mates make which you let slide.
It’s the porn you watch. It’s the people you surround
yourself with. It’s the choices you make. The moments
you speak, and the moments you fall silent. It’s what
you chose to see, and what you chose to ignore. It’s an
overwhelmingly complex issue rooted in generations of
pain and confusion, but it all ends with you.
You may not feel like you can take on the world. But
you will impact the lives around you. Whether you like
it or not, we are all connected to one another and how
we act has a direct impact on the people around us. Not
acting is just as harmful as abusing.
No, it is not all men. But in a room full of five silent
men, and one abusive, I am still torn to pieces.
So, let this be the moment of change. Have those
difficult conversations. Educate yourself. Listen to others
when they speak.
Open your heart to the world around you. And
maybe one day, we can all dance together in peace.
Words: Mary Olive / @maryolivepoet (she/her)
Illustration: Ruby Tompkins
@goodnightoutcampaign
55