It’s been an awful week to work in women’s safety. I could despair. I could hide from the news. I could stop campaigning. I could stop banging my head against the wall. No one would blame me if I left social media and walked away from my advocacy work. But I spent 18 years in a drunken haze and once I quit drinking and realised that not only did I know what to say, I was good at concisely explaining the radical idea that men are responsible for the violence they commit against women. I found my purpose in life and have dedicated the last three and a half years advocating for women’s safety and police reform. And sometimes it is too much. It has been a painful and awful week. We failed Carol, Louise and Hannah. And I have had to stop myself reading the details. And stop from having a debate with avatars calling me a misandrist. Men need to stop killing us.Â
I could write ten thousand words on the ways we downplay domestic violence and blame the victims. Why didn’t she leave? What did she do to set him off? Was she cheating on him? It had to be her fault or the fault of the weapon used. Guns don’t kill people rappers do comes to mind. And these questions are asked under the announcement of their horrific murders. Papers don’t follow reporting guidance on not picturing the woman killed next to her killer. They name their killer but not them.Â
The violence is never a one off. The coercive control and the signs of abuse are always there. But women know how hard it is to be believed and protected by Police and the courts. When we talk about justice for a woman, she is usually already dead. If the police don’t agree you are in danger, they fob you off and tell you to go privately for a protection order, and they cost over £7,000. And the protection orders usually aren’t worth the paper they are written on. They aren’t enforced. And most women trying to leave also have children to worry about and protect. And then the courts torture them and play into their abusers hands.Â
And then when tragedy strikes again and again and again, there might be a review or inquiry and tons of time and money to get to the conclusion that their murders could have been prevented.Â
I could write and write and write. I could offer the statistics. I could share plans on how treating misogyny like a public health issue could create deep and meaningful progress. I could talk about how the judiciary and police could commit to prioritising women’s safety and how much of a plaster appointing the czar of women’s safety was. The job was ineffective and quietly folded into another role.Â
But instead, I need to remind myself of the heroes doing the quiet work. The men that need to reflect and interrogate their treatment of women will not hear my voice.Â
But the women that do thankless work day in and day out will hear me. And if I can offer them the same kindness that Katrin Hohl OBE gave to me, I will be doing a greater service.Â
So here it goes. Instead of 12,000 angry words, I am going to celebrate Katrin Hohl who was made an OBE in the King’s Honours for her services to victims of sexual assault. Katrin has taught me so much about the huge impact of quiet and behind the scenes work. And the importance of rest. And she gives me hope. Hope for change, hope for progress.Â
I read this letter Katrin sent me at least once a month when my work all seems futile. Katrin wrote it after reading this piece and before we had become friends. We were both aware of one another’s work but had not yet met, but she knew of my Reclaim These Streets work, and heard the despair that was creeping into my work and felt compelled to reach out.Â
When I am exhausted and sad and furious. I read it and then I think of Operation Soteria. I think of Katrin and Betsy Stanko and what they have accomplished. How many lives they have touched. How much their tenacity has meant. And what their quiet personal support has meant to me. And that someday I will mentor young activists and treat them with the kindness and love that Katrin and Betsy Stanko have shown me.Â
Tomorrow as I raise a glass to Katrin being honoured with an OBE, I will continue to do the work.
We fight on. And on and on. For every woman that has suffered abuse at the hands of a man. For all of us that have dedicated our lives to being the voices. To stand up and be counted. For all of the women killed, that have to die to be believed. It does not have to be this way. And our collective voices matter. Our safety matters. Our grief matters. Our consent matters. And you matter. I matter. Our work matters, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.Â
Shared with Katrin’s approval.Â
May 22, 2024
“Hi Jamie
I’ve just read your collateral damage article, and the main thing I feel is the desire to give you a hug. To let you know we all have your arms around you. The work you do is amazing work, but it is hard work. When we are pushing a bolder this size up a mountain our faces are up against that bolder, and we don’t see the path, the destination, or how far we have already come.
I too have felt really exhausted and a sense of hopefulness in recent weeks. We are negotiating the future of Op Soteria - there is clear commitment from the Home Office and the NPCC to continue it, but the details of the academic involvement [way lesst. As Op Soteria becomes more mainstream, and moves towards implementation, there is the risk of ‘business as usual’, of things that are really big & complex being turned into a line on an action plan, going through the motions but not carrying on with doing the transformational change we started. It all just sort of feeling like its sand running through your fingers.
It is in these moments it helps me to pause and look around me. Having Betsy as a close friend helps. She’s done this for longer than you and I have been alive. How does she do it? I think her secret is to not treat it as a sprint, to accept it is a marathon. To take breaks ALL THE TIME. Every two months she goes away - on a holiday or similar - switches off. Betsy has had many more set backs than anyone would know, but she moves on quickly. She doesn’t dwell on them. She looks for the next opportunity, the next moment. I feel enormous guilt whenever I feel tired and want to take a step back - the cause is so important, we can’t afford to rest. Betsy just rolls her eyes in those moment. She knows that everyone loses faith, tires and feels it’s no use at different times. She knows that it is in those moments that your feminist sisters take the mantle, you’re not on your own. There are thousands of us doing this work, and we can rely on one another in those moments.
I truly believe that there has been a massive change in thinking within policing that can’t be easily undone. Translating that in a change in what police are doing is the task ahead, and it won’t be easy, and it won’t be quick, and it will need those critical voices, like yours. You are truly amazing, you have done amazing work. We’ll all continue to push that bolder, taking turns, and we will get there.
Hug.
Katrin
Further Reading on Operation Soteria:
https://www.city.ac.uk/news-and-events/news/2023/09/three-in-four-rape-and-sexual-assault-survivors-mental-health-harmed-during-police-investigation-research-reveals