Creating Safe Spaces with Dr. Treena Orchard
Creating Safe Spaces with Dr. Treena Orchard
Listening with a Feminist Ear
Last year, I ended the first season of Stark Conversations by sharing the sexual harassment I encountered on one of my daily walks. A man fully exposed himself and started following me. He stopped only when we encountered others. Although he did attempt to engage in conversation with me, he never touched me or said anything vulgar, but it was more than enough to scare me. After months and months of reflection, I realized it was his blatant following of me that completely unnerved me. I kept asking myself- what if there hadn't been that other couple? I followed it up with, “I don’t want to overreact, but…”
My best friend told me I wasn’t overreacting.
It's revolting the way the patriarchy taught us that the actions of men who belittle or hurt women and minorities are jokes and no big deal. They convinced us that the problem was in our reaction to their “locker room talk.” Guilt and blame hang heavy in midair, needing a place to land. They don’t care where they land, anyone will do- even the victim. They just need ownership to thrive.
The slime of patriarchy allows guilt and blame to slide right off the attacker. The victim, being told she is the lesser vessel, assumes the powerful know better than her - about her own experience - so she says the magic words that release the suspended culpability. "I guess you're right,” she breathes. Blame and guilt land in her lap, splatting their bits and pieces all over her.
We have been taught how to play a rather haunting game of Solitary Gaslighting. It's a one-person game, typically played late at night, as you will sleep to come. Its objective is to defeat and demoralize. You begin the game by going over the events of harassment or assault and end with downplaying your fear by saying the following sentences: "It wasn't that bad." "It only lasted a few minutes." "Worse things happen to other women."
You can drown in 10 inches of water, and you can drown in 10 feet of water. The effects of sexual harassment and violence are very real.
The flashes of razor-sharp memory will split your brain and heart wide. The fear and anxiety glue themselves to the inner lining of your brain. They coat your stomach and compress your lungs. Breathing becomes a struggle, and you find yourself in search of a safe place to land. Somewhere you can heal. For me, it was my couch. On my plush blue couch, I could breathe and process. It held me as I found places where those memories could land safely inside my body and be metabolized. Only then did I know the fear was real, and I did not, in fact, overreact.
Safe spaces are a salve. We need spaces where we know hurt can't reach us. Where we can be around loving and accepting people. These are the spaces where healing begins. Belonging is a therapy. In this week's episode of Stark Conversations, I am talking about Safe Spaces with Dr. Treena Orchard, one of the most soothing and calm people I have ever met.
Dr. Orchard is herself, a safe space. She is transparent and authentic. Her words envelop you as you recline into her wisdom. Dr. Orchard is an anthropologist, author and activist. As a professor, she orchestrated a study at the University of Western Ontario that analyzed Socio-spatial Constructions of Campus Safety Among University Students and Administrators. The results were incredibly revealing. Safety is an issue of privilege and equity.
It's always fascinating to watch people's reactions to the phrase "safe space." It's a wonder why so many people frown upon it, roll their eyes, and make sarcastic comments. It seems that those who make the most fun of safe spaces are people who fight tooth and nail for their Second Amendment rights. This means, that even when pressed, those with hard edges still have the desire to feel secure. Everyone wants a safe space to state their opinions without hatred and vitriol. Life is hard. Why make it even more unpleasant for others? But why is our country's default to continually protect those who don't need protection?
Dr. Orchard's study originated from listening to her student’s experiences with sex and gender-based violence and the lack of response from university personnel. It is a sad fact that almost every citizen in the United States can name unsafe situations that breed violence. If it is so commonplace, then why aren’t those in power doing something about it? I posed this question to Dr. Orchard’s soft voice yields a firm line when she points out that no university wants to be known as a school with sexual violence. So, they print the glossy brochure while avoiding the gritty statistics.
But, by not admitting and owning the problem, they protect the attackers. When someone shies away from a situation and refuses to be proactive, they sacrifice another's life. 13% of college students have experienced sexual violence. That's 13% of ALL students, all genders. 13%. The median enrollment for a D1 school is around 9,000 students. Do you want to do the math, or shall I?
I asked Dr. Orchard where campus safety starts. Her answer meticulously pries open the meatiest solution: leadership and marketing. This, by the way, is the answer to all issues of inequity. Those in leadership positions must dare to be vulnerable, step completely inside the infection, and clean it from the inside out. Leadership needs to be willing to own the ugly parts of the institution. Go into the places where minorities are feeling unsafe and listen to their voices. Go into the spaces where those who are transgender, genderqueer, and nonconforming feel unsafe and instill security. Make your presence known on Greek Row. Make your presence known by the dark corner just outside the library. Those in marketing must be willing to tell the truth without fluff or glitter. No slant, just fact. State sexual violence is a societal issue, and this university is committed to tackling it head-on.
Dr. Orchard’s voice pulls us into understanding that before any of this work can be done, we must change the way we listen to others. This includes listening to the things left unsaid. Dr. Orchard encourages us to listen with a Feminist Ear. A feminist ear trusts in the experiences of others. It doesn’t require proof or validation of the moment, just humanity. A feminist ear doesn't pass judgment of overreaction to the person sharing their vulnerability. When we listen with empathy, we connect with others. Connecting through our experiences is a powerful way for a society to blend. We weave ourselves into a tapestry that will last for generations. Unfortunately, our society doesn’t listen with validation. Instead, we remain separated, thinking we are stronger when we pass judgment and stigmatize one another.
When the students at the University of Western Ontario were asked if they felt the campus was safe, many answered “sometimes.” This makes safety a moving target, and ultimately, it means that the campus, much like the real world, is not a safe space for women, minorities, and the LGTBQ communities. What is happening at this university is a microcosm of the world at large.
We have accepted that safety is subjective and hard to attain. We have given all our power to Fear. We have built empires that feed on fear: religion, prisons, and slanted systems of justice. We allow businesses and nonprofits to grow obscenely rich off of fear. Fear of hell, fear of people, fear of the color of another's skin.
At what point do we follow the data and the research, become proactive, and reverse the fear? Action-oriented feminist researchers like Dr. Orchard have done the work. She is one of hundreds that have done the work for us. Dr. Bettina Apethakar, Angela Davis, Alice Walker, bell hooks, Cherríe Moraga, Gloria E. Anzaldúa, the list goes on and on with names of feminist researchers who have analyzed safety issues. They have given speeches and written essays and books about how to rectify a society that marginalizes gender and race.
They recommend trainings on sexual harassment and gender-based violence with accountability for follow through, a reexamination of policies that protect white-cisgender people, but not minorities, and simple physical measures such as lighting and increased patrols. It also includes spaces where like-minded people can come together and know they are accepted and loved. I'll repeat it in case it was missed the first time - belonging is therapy.
All of this changes when those who do not feel the weight of daily fear start listening to those of us who do. Those of us who know how to position the car keys perfectly between our fingers, hold the pepper spray with our thumb hovering over the safety cover or pretend to talk on the phone as we walk through dark streets. It is time to reexamine safety in our world. In the words of Audre Lorde -
“For we have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of silence will choke us.”