Handbook on Sexual Violence (94 page)

Women in rape crisis work with women who are in prison, in hospital, and in other institutional settings. Lesbians, disabled women, ethnic minority women, and the elderly can also experience types of rape fuelled by homophobia, racism, able-ism, and/or ageism. Contrary to academic stereotypes of anti-rape feminism as white and middle-class, women working in the field fight hard to create services which consider the issues raised by multiple oppressions and to work with and within minority groups. Women are targets for rape in war, in civil war, and in other forms of sectarian dispute. All of these are within the ambit of rape crisis work. Rape crisis workers around the world know these contexts and can support women who visit or call them. A consciousness-raising-led continuum means that survivors’ knowledge can be adapted into existing frameworks’ practice and policy. None of this can be said with any confidence in relation to public sector responses.

Victoria, a lesbian from Sierra Leone, was forced to marry a man who was ‘rough’ with her and she was threatened with circumcision (complete excision of her genitalia) to ‘cure’ her lesbianism. Eventually she fled her husband and country, trying to get to America. She landed in London and was then kept in the UK where her asylum claim was not taken seriously, as she would not name her lesbian lover. She was then moved around the country:

They don’t care how people live. They abolished slavery but it is the same treatment we are having, you have no choice where you go, you are put in different houses and they don’t care what those houses are like as long as they can say that refugees have shelter, somewhere to sleep. . . . In one house water was pouring in when it rained. When the council came and checked the house they said it was not fit for anyone to live in.

(WAST 2008: 32)

Victoria’s situation was not understood by the law and the total failure of public responses to this survivor made her feel afraid and alone. Her life began to feel more hopeful when she met the women’s group WAST (Women Asylum Seekers Together) and began to find friendship and strength from this woman-led response (
www.wast.org.uk, accessed 18 June 2010).

Feminist services work with women regarding their related experiences of violence, and other acts on the continuum are examined as part of a feminist response to rape. Women may also want to talk about being followed, wolf- whistled, the sense of being stalked, being touched on public transport, or other incidents which may not appear relevant within a statutory context, but which are important within a woman’s life. These ‘little rapes’, as Medea and Thompson once characterised them, are still seen as simply ‘the way things are’ within mainstream responses (1974: 29–55). Working with women who are poor, have immigration or other legal problems, speak a language other than English, cannot find somewhere to live, need an abortion – all of these are part of the task, for WAST, Rape Crisis groups, SBS and others.

Women who are in contact with public services tend to experience a sense of being measured against a model of rape which is not of their choosing. This disjunction leads to the well-known sense of dissatisfaction many survivors report. Sara Payne’s recent review of rape victim experiences (2009) is just one of the latest in a line of research that stretches back to early works in the US (Russell 1982) and here (Hall 1985, and the Campaign to End Rape (CER) study of 2010, currently being analysed
www.cer.truthaboutrape.co.uk, accessed 18 June 2010). Payne concludes strongly that the ‘majority’ of women she met had been failed by public responses (2009: 8). She says that the most common problem is lack of belief (2009: 11). In Payne’s version, this is a society-wide problem and not something specific about the police, the judiciary, or other professions. Yet public opinion surveys show that a large proportion of the public does not believe that women are to blame for rape (85 per cent strongly disagree with the assertion that if a woman is raped it is usually her own fault:
Attitudes to Rape
2010, quoted in Baird and Campbell 2010: 20). It is not at all clear that this would be true of a sample of police officers. Simple issues of dignity can also prove too challenging for public services. As one survivor put it:

There really should be females all the way through. It’s simple things like, a male liaison officer returned my clothes ... there he was, holding up my underwear, ticking it off. It was awful.

(Payne 2009: 16)

The public response perpetrates another ‘little rape’ against a survivor in simple and stupid mistakes such as this.

Continuum-based responses

Central differences in philosophy, aims, definitions and the willingness to create women’s space, mean that public responses lag behind the women’s voluntary sector. Despite Liz Kelly’s personal willingness to advise the public sector, it continues to work outside of continuum-led responses, most of the time. One clear way to see this is in the focus of multi-agency forums, usually led by local authorities. These groups bring together workers from the mainstream of responses to (usually) domestic abuse with workers from the women’s refuge movement. Commonly the local rape crisis groups struggle to get a seat at these public sector dominated groups and all of those present often find these to be frustrating and limited meetings (the roles of multi- agency work in relation to rape crisis are discussed further in Jones and Cook 2008: ch. 3).

Within feminist practice and in academia, the continuum continues to be viewed as a powerful tool. It is useful because it places blame firmly with abusers, without limiting or identifying which men might be involved. The continuum also helps feminists, as supporters, teachers, campaigners and authors, to make sense of women’s complex histories of abuse. It allows for links to be made and maintained between theory and practice. As it is built on survivors’ testimony, the continuum can expand and change to incorporate new knowledge from survivors.

In a number of contexts, the public responses to rape are not likely to be sufficiently survivor-led to react adequately to the complex reality of women’s lives. Thus these agencies will continue to provide services which do not rate highly in terms of survivor satisfaction and which do not meet the needs of all women. American author Beth Richie has argued that these questions of exclusion can be resolved by focusing service design around the most excluded groups (Richie 1996). In this way, the women who seem the most ‘difficult’ can become worthy of central attention. In addition, services that are created for the most excluded groups are actually more accessible to all. For example, if a service considers that visually impaired women are excluded, and concentrates on producing literature in a variety of formats, everyone who has reading limitations can also benefit, alongside the target group.

In using Richie’s model, the first step is to identify which women are not being included. In relation to services for women experiencing sexual violence, it could be argued that the following are some of the most excluded groups:

sex workers;

asylum seekers;

trafficked women and girls;

adult survivors of childhood abuses;

women in prison and other institutions;

elderly women;

women with physical/sensory or learning disabilities;

women with mental ill health.

Combining a continuum-led response, which assumes linked events and gets its knowledge from women’s lived experience, with Richie’s suggestion for service design can lead to real changes in provision.

Safety4Sisters (S4S) is a Manchester-based coalition of workers from the women’s voluntary sector, but also from the public sector and higher education, who have come together to tackle problems around responses to some of these groups. S4S aims:

to be a forum for any interested individual or service provider, to discuss experiences and problems on the ground in supporting women with no recourse, and who essentially have a commitment to finding ways and exploring new ideas to improve and secure support and protection/safety for women with no recourse.

(S4S 2010, unpublished)

This forum defines ‘women with no recourse’ as:

1. Women on visas;
   

2. Failed asylum seekers who have been made destitute;
   

3. Women who have been trafficked;
   

4. Women not able to access housing benefits due to Habitual Residence Rule (European women); and
   

5. Women with no immigration status.
   

(
ibid
.)

The women that Safety4Sisters focuses on are challenging in a political sense for the public sector. They make up part of the class of ‘immigrants’ and they are seen as risky groups for politicians to support. It could be argued then that it is not surprising that in this area it has proven possible to create a women- led forum. The group recognises these sisters are vulnerable to homelessness, exploitation, further rapes and abuses, and to deportation. Drawing from the experiences of the asylum seekers in WAST, this forum tries to use the continuum and Richie’s approach to service provision to position these excluded women at the centre of the field of vision.

The Safety4Sisters agenda is set by the women’s voluntary sector. Meetings are open to workers from the public sector, they are not women-only and the group meets at offices belonging to Manchester City Council. The meetings of this forum are inspiring and invigorating and explore ways of improving service provision for women with multiple mainstream exclusions. The forum allows women within the public sector, who come from a philosophy of belief in and who subscribe to the continuum, to work with women from the voluntary sector, on terms defined by the voluntary sector. Within this group, for example, there are women now employed by the council, but who have previously worked within women’s services. They are able to take part without feeling co-opted by a mainstream agenda, which probably also makes

it easier for them to return to their day jobs. In other words, this is a place where women (and meetings invariably are just women, despite an open policy) can come together without the public sector restrictions of definition, aim and scepticism.

S4S as a model is interesting and worthy of further exploration. It may, in time, be copied elsewhere. That said it remains an unfunded venture, limited by the pressures of time, money, and woman-power. These limitations are common across the women’s voluntary sector and they impact on service provision and lobbying power. If the earlier contention that the public agenda aims to dampen feminist claims of unfairness is accepted, it becomes clear that it is actually in the public interest to keep women’s groups in this position. The real change which the feminist anti-rape movement aims for is likely to be too incisive for public support. Women’s groups which struggle for survival are not a threat to the status quo, or to the status of the man on the Clapham omnibus. Rape will continue whilst the public sector responds quietly and the women’s sector struggles for survival.

Recent funding initiatives from government show how this works in practice. In January 2010, for example, the government announced an £860,000 ‘combined fund to support victims of sexual violence’ (press release dated 27 January,
www.justice.gov.uk/news/newsrelease270110b.htm, accessed 18 June 2010). This fund allowed voluntary groups to apply for one-year funding, provided they could submit a funding bid within a one-month window. Such funding allows some rape crisis groups to continue to provide services and it is an improvement on the previous dearth of central funding for this area of work. It can be argued then that this is an example of a strong government response to women’s claims for support. Indeed, many women within rape crisis may well support such an argument. However, it is also apparent that any small voluntary group which is limited to uncertain one-year funding will continue to exist in a state of marginal confidence, at best. Within many of these organisations funding applications can only be completed where women stop providing services for the time it takes to complete the forms, as there is no administrative support or back-up. Planning for the future then becomes a matter of considering provision on a hand-to-mouth basis, which makes it very difficult to embark on new or innovative modes of support or lobbying to end rape. Women’s Resource Centre research in 2008 studied 35 rape crisis centres and reported 134,000 contacts with users over a 12-month period (WRC 2008: 7). These same centres, however, had a combined waiting list for face-to-face services of 5.3 years. To have the status from which to effect real change, the women’s sector needs far more funding that is also far more certain. Yet it is apparently not in the interests of the public sector to provide this.

In this way, then, the public sector can make it harder for continuum-led service provision to effect real change. The public sector is also prone to throwing other difficulties into the path of these groups. Funding may, for example, be limited, unless groups can show that they also provide services to male survivors. In local areas there can also be demand for access to groups by transwomen, who wish to become part of the rape crisis or other organisation. From a feminist anti-rape perspective, both male survivors and transmen and women need to find the space to create their own continuum-based

knowledge through survivor-led testimony. The experience of being raped as a man is palpably different from that of a woman or indeed of a transwoman or transman. Male survivors might experience doubt as to their masculinity, while female survivors are more likely to feel confirmation of their status as a (weak and yet provocative) woman.

They bound my mouth so that I could not shout and pulled off my sari and then I understood what was going to happen. After the third man raped me I passed out . . . I want to forget what happened at that time but I can’t forget, it always comes to my mind. People here always tell me it is not your fault. . . . If I go back to my country people will tell my son that his Mum was raped . . . It is a matter of shame in my country.

(Naima, in WAST 2008: 40-41)

Naima’s experience cannot be replicated within male rape or transrape. Her experiences are bound up with the social construction of what it means to be female within a patriarchy. A male rape victim or trans victim might also wish to keep their experience of rape from their children, but for different reasons. In order to create support or space for these groups other theories of rape need to be developed further. This is not within the remit of these already stretched women’s voluntary sector organisations.

A gender-neutral service demand is also a denial of the truth of the continuum. Within a feminist consciousness-raising-led model, rape is a gendered event. The wish to incorporate men can be seen as a misunderstanding as to how far society has come down the road to equality, or in the struggle to end the patriarchy. Some people clearly believe that equal service provision constitutes equality. Yet, as this discussion has demonstrated, the experiences remain different, within the (still functioning) patriarchy. Meanwhile for governments, police services, and councils, the wish for equality of service provision might have more to do with diluting feminist demands.

All of this remains important for society as a whole. Proper service provision that believes, listens to and supports survivors can potentially impact on health bills, social security costs and legal aid bills (Walby 2004). Women who receive support that allows them to make sense of their experiences can go on to live in as free a sense as any woman can. Eventually, an end to rape could even create women’s freedom and autonomy in a meaningful sense. Catharine MacKinnon says of the women’s movement that:

It was a movement that knew that when material conditions preclude 99 percent of your options, it is not meaningful to call the remaining 1 percent – what you are doing – your choice.

(MacKinnon 2005: 259–60)

She develops her description of this movement further:

Any woman who was violated was our priority. It was a deeply collectivist movement. In this movement, when we said ‘women, we,’ it

had content. It didn’t mean that we all had to be the same in order to be part of this common condition. That, in fact, was the genius, one of the unique contributions, of this movement: it premised unity as much on diversity as on commonality. It did not assume that commonality meant sameness.

(
ibid
. 261)

Working from women’s lived experiences allows for sense to be made from diversity and from sameness. In both of these extracts, MacKinnon uses the past tense as she is constructing an argument about the dominance of liberalism. This can be compared with the suggestion here, that it is not in the public interest to support women’s groups. MacKinnon concludes that liberalism cannot conceive of ‘sexual misogyny’ and consequently it rests upon assumptions of sexual inequality. To effect real change she suggests that there is a need for a ‘sex-based hope’ (
ibid
.: 268), perhaps thinking of writings by other feminists, such as Robin West, on ‘female hedonism’. West argues that critical method should be measured against the ability to deliver ‘happiness, joy and pleasure’ (West 1987: 180) to women.

When we try to squeeze descriptions of our lives into the parameters laid out for us, the results are often not just distorted, but profoundly anomalous. We are trying too hard to assimilate, in our theory as well as in our professional and personal lives.

(
ibid
. 180–1)

If women’s services simply try to fit their service provision into the mainstream offerings as to agenda and philosophy then the results are gravely limited. The Safety4Sisters model can claim some success as it clearly creates a space where women’s views can be heard on a different level. Any agenda can focus on lessening women’s suffering and (one day) increasing our pleasure, when it incorporates continuum-led ideas.

However, to effect real change, we need to add more service provision based on a continuum-led model. For example, Britain currently lacks a child abuse movement which understands the continuum and looks for answers which empower, rather than patronise, children. Anti-porn movements face liberal criticism, which MacKinnon and Dworkin faced (MacKinnon 1993). But a continuum-led anti-porn movement could begin to build another area of pleasure not pain.

Conclusions

Public responses to rape can be characterised as being liberal and equality driven, dominated by criminal justice responses, and interested in keeping survivors and feminist activists quiet. In contrast, the women’s voluntary sector tries hard to use the continuum and to be led by women’s experience. This means believing women, providing women’s space, and supporting a wish to end rape as defined by women ourselves. The women’s sector can

encompass a range of experiences which last for days, or weeks, or longer. The concept of ‘conduct over time’ is not problematic within this agenda. Women’s services can focus on those most excluded, although they are hampered by a lack of resources.

Rape crisis centres tend to remain relatively powerless within local multi- agency hierarchies. The good news is that there has been some change over the past two years, and no more rape crisis centres have closed (documented in Jones and Cook 2008). New centres have been created in Bristol, Leeds and Trafford in Greater Manchester; and a new service for Suffolk is currently in the pipeline. Just as at the beginning of the movement, these new centres have not been created centrally, but came out of women’s determination to provide services.

When the women’s sector sets the agenda, it can afford to consider the complex realities of sexual violence in women’s lives. It can also work with women who support the same aims, in national and local government. In reality, this division between public responses and those from the women’s sector is becoming a little less absolute than previously. The women’s sector still needs to remain clear that it has its own agenda and that it needs to be brave enough to continue to work outside the mainstream until the latter adopts a feminist philosophy – which is surely not yet.

The development of further women’s sector led forums could be a step forward in creating a more dynamic agenda. However, under the 2010 coalition government, it is likely that these organisations will need to be created without funding, or central support. Within academia there is real space for feminist evaluation of women’s service models to be used to build an even greater evidence base to convince the public sector of the value of women’s survivor-led provision.

Further reading

This
chapter discusses the feminist model of rape crisis work and readers can learn more about that, and its struggle to respond to the public agenda, in
Rape Crisis: Responding to Sexual Violence
(Helen Jones and Kate Cook 2008). The philosophy underpinning this comes from a women’s liberation movement which began in the USA and Susan Brownmiller’s account of the beginnings of that movement also does much to illustrate those ideas (
In Our Time: Memoir of a Revolution
, 2000, Aurum Press Ltd). A little older, but nonetheless informative, Nancy Matthews’ study of American rape crisis is
Confronting Rape: The Feminist Anti-Rape Movement and the State
, Routledge, 1994.