Our domestic violence project for IWD

I’ve been at university a while, but I’ve found feminist activism slightly lacking on campus. There’s some wonderful people who are feminists, and a general feminist attitude in the social science department where I spend a lot of my time. However, there are no feminist groups here, and my university, which was one of the last in Britain to have a Gender Studies department, has just abolished it as a subject because no one was taking it. So last saturday, when I heard a local group were doing something for International Women’s Day on the subject of domestic violence, I knew I had to do it. Some family members and some friends have been victims of domestic violence, and I’ve always felt fairly powerless to help them. Plus, I’ve had so much crappy experience with sexism lately, that being around feminists was fantastic, it was like coming up for air. Here’s what we did:
We gathered in a local bar, dressed all in bright red. There I was introduced to a woman who I was told was an artist and responsible for the project. The plan was to walk around and approach groups of three women together, tell them about the project and ask them to take a photo with us. One of us in red would stand next to the three women, with her back turned, who represented those who were not survivors, and the red woman portrayed the 1/4 women in Britain who experiences some form of domestic/partner violence in her lifetime. Then the photos would be put in a local exhibition.
We split up into pairs or threes and set off in the city, trying to find women. We got five photos in an hour and a half, which is fairly fast considering it was hard to find groups of women in threes! Almost all the women we approached were happy to participate, although we did get three very senior women who didn’t like the idea at all. We found one woman in a cowgirl hat who was on her hen night (or bachelorette party, if you will) with her friends. She said she didn’t think she would ever be a victim, but was happy to help. We got a bunch of kids, perhaps aged 12 or 13, interested, and three of the girls took a photo with us too. The young boys were interested in it, too, which felt great. Some of the women we approached had known friends who were survivors. When we all met up again with our photos, two senior women asked what we were doing there all in red, and when we explained they said they were 86 and 87 and had never known it happened to so many women.
Doing this, although it was very simple and didn’t take long, gave me hope, which I’ve been lacking lately, reading all these stories of violence, and personally knowing girls who are going through it. It was a tiny thing, but worth it.