Posts

Over the past few days, in addition to the usual crime reports, there have been stories about the need to address what the prime minister called a “serious a chronic problem”.

Crime has plagued The Bahamas for a long time. Every government administration, upon arrival, blames it on the previous administration, and every Opposition blames the sitting administration for failing to find the solution.

While political parties blame each other to escape responsibility, members of the public convince themselves that the most violent crimes have nothing to do with them. It is often said that the criminals are killing each other, and some people go further to say this is a good thing. One of the reasons crime continues at high rates is that very few people and entities — including families, churches, and workplaces — are prepared to accept responsibility or take action to prevent it or intervene.

photo

POLICE at the scene of one of last year’s shootings. Photo: Austin Fernander

Violence does not come from nowhere. It is a learned behaviour. We all understand the threats of physical pain and death as a motivator. They can get a person to take or refrain from taking a particular action. Physical pain and death are understood as punishment. If a person fails to take or refrain from taking a particular action, especially after being threatened, they may be physically harmed or killed. This can be useful for learning not to, for example, touch fire because the direct consequence is the pain of being burned. It is unhealthy when fear is weaponised against a person. A person brandishing a weapon and giving a directive does not necessarily have to verbalise a threat for another person to understand that they must do as they are told to avoid being physically harmed or killed.

Unfortunately, children are taught, by example, to use other people’s fears against them very early in life. Children are beaten for any number of actions and inactions, including accidents. Get a bad grade, get beaten. Don’t finish dinner, get beaten. Spill juice on the couch, get beaten. Say a bad word, get beaten. Knock over a glass, get beaten. Text a boy, get beaten. Cry, get beaten. They are not only experiencing violence as a response to certain behaviour, but living with the threat of violence and how it shapes their behaviour. This is uncomfortable and feels as unsafe as it is, and it is training for abusing other people with the same tactics. Children learn that threats are scary, they can be made with or without words, and they can drive action. By practising the use of threats with their peers, they learn that anyone can do it.

When the issue or corporal punishment is raised, many parents become upset. Corporal punishment is what they know. It is the way they were “corrected” and “raised” by their parents, and it is what they use to “correct” their own children and any other minors in their care. They find the suggestion that it is wrong to be inconvenient. They do not like when it is referred to as violence. They see it as “discipline”.

Violence is “behaviour involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something”. Corporal punishment, including the spanking, hitting, and pinching of children, is, indeed, violence. It hurts, and it can cause damage.

Discipline is “the practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behaviour, using punishment to correct disobedience.” Punishment is “the infliction or imposition of a penalty as retribution for an offence”. Interestingly, discipline has two components — training to obey and punishment as a response to failure to obey — and punishment is a response to offence. The response does not have to be physical, yet for many Bahamians, corporal punishment is the only familiar punishment. Perhaps it is that way because it is easy. It does not require thought. It could be that it is a generational practice that too many people are not prepared to question, challenge, or change, even when we know its association with slavery. More thoughtful, effective discipline takes thought and time. It is not immediate, and may require a cooling off period, so adults do not have the physical satisfaction of not only punishing a child, but offloading all of their frustrations in their delivery of corporal punishment.

Even before punishment is doled out, parents get it wrong sometimes. Maybe the believe the favorite child, and that child knows they can blame everything on their siblings. Maybe what parents perceive to be an act of rudeness is an accident. Maybe poor performance is not a refusal to try, but an ill-suited learning environment or an undiagnosed learning difference. When children are wrongfully punished, resentment can build. We know that there are angry people among us, and we do not know why. Some of them are still angry about the ways they were treated as children. Some people have mental health challenges because of the violence they experienced as children. Some are in unhealthy and abusive relationships because they were told all their lives that violence is love.

The crime we see in The Bahamas is not all due to violence against children. It is also not completely separate from it. We learn violence before we can speak. Years ago, ZNS played a recording of a child reciting “Children Learn What They Live” by Dorothy Law Nolte.

If a child lives with criticism, He learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility, He learns to fight.

If a child lives with ridicule, He learns to be shy.

If a child lives with shame, He learns to feel guilty.

If a child lives with tolerance, He learns to be patient.

If a child lives with encouragement, He learns confidence.

If a child lives with praise, He learns to appreciate.

If a child lives with fairness, He learns justice.

If a child lives with security, He learns to have faith.

If a child lives with approval, He learns to like himself.

If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, He learns to find love in the world.

That recording was played so often that many of us memorised it without trying. There must have been a reason ZNS played it. I do not remember it being preceded or followed by a public service announcement about child abuse, parenting, or anything of the sort. It may have been expected that the message would be received through repetition, but here we are. Child abuse continues to be called discipline, and people who lived with hostility and ridicule enact violence against people known and unknown to them.

The family is the first institution we know. It is where we learn behaviors we take with us through all of our lives, and some of us work hard to unlearn along the way. It is the place we are most easily and deeply scarred. It could be the place we learn to love and be loved, to treat one another with respect, and to believe in and value justice.

Will the government take a stand against corporal punishment? Will elders admit that violence is not the way to raise or discipline children, and that is has harmful effects? Will churches guide members in understanding metaphors and other literary devices so that “spare the road, spoil the child” does not become a license from god to abuse children? Will workplaces and other organizations support parents who need help balancing the work and family responsibilities, and to learn healthy parenting practices? We need all hands on deck. Everyone needs to participate in developing good, active citizens.

“Jada, I love ya, GI Jane 2, can’t wait to see it, aight?”

That is what Chris Rock said on stage at the Academy Awards on Sunday night. He used the 1997 movie GI Jane which starred Demi Moore with a buzzcut to reference Jada Pinkett-Smith’s bald head. Pinkett-Smith’s bald head is not exactly a style choice, but the result of alopecia. On Sunday night, sitting in the audience, she was visibly annoyed by the comment, rolling her eyes, showing exhaustion.

In 2018, Pinkett-Smith shared on Red Table Talk, her Facebook Watch series, that she had been experiencing hair loss, had gone through many tests, and did not know what was causing it. She said, “It was terrifying when it first started.” She recalled being in the shower and having hair in her hands. In that episode, she talked about losing the choice to have hair or not have hair. In December 2021, she shaved her head and shared her new look on Instagram, connecting it to her struggle with alopecia.

Rock seemed to know the “joke” did not land the way he thought it would, and insisted that it “was a nice one”. He said, “Wuh-oh!” as Will Smith bounded toward him in a way that was clearly not friendly. He laughed until the point that Smith slapped him. ‘Oh, wow. Wow,” he said as Smith turned around, headed for his seat.

Smith told Rock, from the audience, to “keep [his] wife’s name out [his] [expletive] mouth.” Rock attempted to defend himself, noting that it “was a GI Jane joke.” Smith repeated himself, and Rock responded, “I’m going to, okay?” The video clip is being shared over and over again on social media and with that, of course, comes the commentary. The incident sparked conversation about violence, racism, respectability politics, ableism, and cancel culture among many others.

In the video, it is clear that Smith laughed at Rock’s reference to Pinkett-Smith as GI Jane. He, apparently, found it funny. In the same frame, it is clear that Pinkett-Smith was not amused, but Smith was not looking at her in that moment. The video does not show what happens next between Smith and Pinkett-Smith, but it is likely that he realised she did not appreciate the joke. We can guess that he was dealing with the negative impact that the comment had on Pinkett-Smith as well as his participation in the laughter by the audience. His reaction may have been more than anger toward Rock, but his own guilt for not remembering Pinkett-Smith’s struggle and laughing at her expense.

Alopecia areata is an autoimmune disease — a condition in which the immune system attacks the body. Other autoimmune diseases include rheumatoid arthritis, multiple sclerosis, and Graves’ disease. In alopecia, the white blood cells attack the cells in hair follicles. It can affect people who are blood relatives of a person with alopecia and people who have thyroid disease, vitiligo, down syndrome, hay fever, and a number of other conditions.

Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley tweeted about the moments of vulnerability that only those closest to people with alopecia ever see. She emphasised the importance of loved ones being there to provide support. She also made it clear that people’s health should not be material for “jokes”. She said, “Our bodies are not public domain. They are not a line in a joke – especially when the transformation is not of our choosing.”

In recent years, there have been several public debates about comedy and what is and is not appropriate content for jokes. The generally accepted rule is that comedians need to “punch up”, meaning people in situations of vulnerability should not be disrespected or used to get laughs. Jokes should not be, for example, about survivors of abuse or people who are systemically disenfranchised. In his apology, Smith noted that being the butt of the joke comes with the territory of his celebrity, and that he did not expect Pinkett-Smith to be targeted. This seemed to be an acceptance of the idea that he, a wealthy person in the public eye, is fair game. He seemed to, in that moment on Sunday night, draw the line at Pinkett-Smith — also wealthy and a celebrity —being fair game due, not only to her having a medical condition, but her medical condition actually being the “joke”.

As people become more socially and politically aware, and more cognizant of issues of inequality, less and less of what was once considered funny is acceptable today. As such, it is not particularly surprising that there are conversations about the relevance of (certain kinds of) comedy and what it takes, and will take in the future, to command a stage and bring humour that engages, informs, and inspires as opposed to pandering to the people with enough power, influence, and health or disconnected enough from the realities of the world to be unaffected by unintelligent quips. There has to be recognition that what passes for comedy, in many cases, is violence.

Most of us understand that Smith’s actions against Rock were violent. He physically assaulted Rock. What happened before Smith assaulted Rock does not excuse this act of violence. It does not matter that his action came in response to an inappropriate comment directed at Pinkett-Smith and her reaction to it. What really matters here is that Smith’s immediate reaction, after laughing and then seeing Pinkett-Smith’s reaction, was to physically assault the person he thought was wrong.

Smith’s action has been characterised by one group of people as one of violence and by another group of people as one of heroism. The position of the first group of people is easier to understand, if only because the violence we understand best is physical. We understand it even better if it is between men. Then, it is treated as a special variant of violence when it occurs between two Black men. Of course, there has been the rhetoric about Black people’s behaviour in “mixed company” and the burden that is on Black people to be on their best behaviour when in view of white people who are known to use any and every opportunity to characterise Black people in certain ways which include inherently violent.

Black people are not allowed to make the same mistakes as white people because a mistake made by a Black person becomes a character trait of all Black people. We use this — is it knowledge or fear? — as an excuse for policing Black people, holding each other to impossible standards with the absurd expectation that our engagement in respectability politics will end racism. Wrong. Respectability politics and this constant policing of Black people is abhorrent and it does nothing to address racism or anti-blackness. Still, many people in that first group — the people who saw violence when Smith slapped Rock — are most upset that a Black man did this on one of the biggest world stages, concerned that it projected an image, a meaning, and a fate on every other Black man.

Unfortunately, that moment also led to projections on Black women who, somehow, continue to be blamed for the violent acts of men. This brings us to the second group of people. Those people believe Smith did the right thing, defending Pinkett-Smith’s honour and making a statement (about his wife and all matters related to her) to everyone who witnessed it.

The people chanting, “Protect Black women,” in support of Smith’s action are not seeing the continuum of violence. Yes, Black women are vulnerable. Yes, Black women are disproportionately affected by violence. Yes, the protection of Black women is, today, absolutely necessary, and we need to get to the point at which Black women do not need protection. Yes, Rock’s comment was violent and we saw a glimpse of the harm it caused. We cannot, however, see the violence in speech and supposed comedy and ignore or excuse the violence of Smith’s response. We must not try to portray particular types of violence as moral or good. We have to demand different, more effective responses. We cannot end violence or convince other people to stop participating in violence by enacting another form of violence and declare it superior or morally sound.

It is also important to note that Smith’s action was a way of actively participating in patriarchy, asserting his masculinity, and positioning Pinkett-Smith in a very specific way — in relationship to him. When he spoke to Rock from his seat, he never used her name.

Twice, he told Rock not to use her name, referring to her as [his] wife. He was saying that Pinkett-Smith is in relationship to him, and he would not sit down and watch her be discussed, targeted, disrespected, or embarrassed. This was not a moral position, or an attempt to protect all Black women, but a personal position about a personal relationship and the way Pinkett-Smith’s feelings and reactions impact the perception she and others have of him.

This led to conversations about what women expect of their husbands and boyfriends. On a radio talk show yesterday morning, it was suggested that men fight over women and go to jail because of it, and the women end up in relationships with other people. This comment seemed to have been made to suggest that women cause men to engage in violence. This is not surprising since women and girls are regularly blamed for the sexual violence they experience, whether it is sexual harassment or rape. Women are made responsible for the behavior of men while men are not held accountable for the decisions they make. In addition, it is rarely acknowledged that men behave in these ways, not out of love or concern, but out of a sense of ownership. “My girlfriend.” “My wife.” “My woman.” “My gal.” They see themselves as owners and women as property, so violence against “their” women is perceived as violence against them, an act of disrespect, and a call to prove their masculinity. This may be viewed as a form of affection or a way of proving or demonstrating relationship status, and some women may believe this is evidence of love, but it is violence and it is self-serving. Smith’s action did not protect Black women. In fact, it quite obviously contributed to the fodder of people who infantilise men by blaming women for men’s behaviour.

We desperately need to think about the place violence has in our lives, and the ways we are prepared to use it or encourage others to use it to get what we want. That may be respect, feelings of love, public demonstrations or evidence of relationships, or something else. Violence is not and cannot be the answer to our problems, the way we reach desired social status, or a means of protecting anyone, particularly from violence. As Smith stated in his apology, “Violence in all of its forms is poisonous and destructive.” Violence will not give us what we need. We need to heal, and we need to build.

Published in The Tribune on March 30, 2022.

On the weekend, it was reported that a four-year-old child was taken to the hospital. Soon after, there were claims on social media that the toddler had been sexually assaulted. The toddler, Bella Walker, died.

This assault, not yet confirmed by the Royal Bahamas Police Force which claims it is still waiting for autopsy results, has been met with outrage. People are angry about this child allegedly being abused, and the suggestion that the abuse caused her death. In this state of anger – one that comes and goes as the general public hears a horrific story and, given enough time, forgets about it – people are calling for action.

Anger can be a strong motivator and lead to things getting done, but those are not usually the right things. It is important for us to recognize this as a pivotal moment.

Nothing we do will bring Bella back or undo the abuse she went through or the suffering of the people who loved her.

While we honour her, mourn the loss and empathize with the people who loved her, we have to look at our circumstances. We have to see the gap between where we are and where we need to be, then figure out what we need to do to move from here to there. We will not get there by doing the first thing that comes to mind when we are enraged and want vengeance. If we are to address the scourge that is sexual violence, beyond individual incidents, we have to identify the issue and the systems that allow it to persist.

Gender-based violence refers to harmful acts directed at an individual based on their gender or that affects people of a particular gender disproportionately. Examples include sexual harassment, female genital mutilation, forced marriages, stalking and sexual violence. Gender-based violence occurs in both public and private spaces, and it can be perpetrated by individuals, organizations and states.

Sexual violence includes non-consensual vaginal, anal, or oral penetration, non-consensual capture or distribution of photos or videos and sex trafficking. Globally, 35 percent of women have experienced physical or sexual violence and 38 percent of murders of women are committed by intimate partners.

Intimate partner violence is a pattern of behaviour used by one partner to maintain control over the other, and it is disproportionately experienced by women. Domestic violence is an incident or pattern of incidents of controlling, coercive, threatening, degrading and violent behaviour between people in the same household including spouses, people who are dating, parents, children and cohabitants.

Child abuse is the harm of anyone under 18, including one-time events and a series of events over a period of time. This includes physical abuse, psychological abuse, sexual abuse and neglect. Perpetrators of child abuse may include family members, friends, people in positions of authority over them, people in community settings and strangers.

Children are often afraid of telling anyone that they are being abused, but there are often signs of abuse. These include being afraid to be around certain people or in certain places, being unusually withdrawn, running away, not being taken to the doctor, and knowing things that are not suitable for their age. They depend on adults to see the signs and take action to protect them.

Neighbours told reporters that Bella’s mother was in an abusive relationship with a man who was not Bella’s father. They heard fighting, saw her locked outside while naked, and heard her say she was tired of him harming both her and her daughter. While one neighbour said they tried speaking with the couple, no one else intervened. They did not call the police nor the Department of Social Services.

On at least two occasions, four-year-old Bella was left home alone. This is only known because she left the house and went to neighbours where she asked for food. It was also said she told neighbours she did not want to go back home while the man was there.

This all points to an horrific example of intimate partner violence, domestic violence and child abuse. There are many questions and no shortage of blame to go around. Blame is of little use, but many of the questions, if we truly answer them and connect them to systemic issues, could lead us to a comprehensive plan to ensure that this does not happen again.

The neighbours decided to mind their own business. Why? One mentioned that the new people in the area do not have anything to live for. Many people choose silence in an attempt to protect themselves, thinking that speaking up would lead to them being harmed. Others believe their household is their business, and that is all.

There are two different ideas here that have the same result. People know something is wrong, but no one is prepared to do anything about it. How can we make it safe for people to report these incidents? How can we change our thinking about what is and is not our business? How much more likely would people be to report violence if they are certain to remain anonymous and safe, are certain that the entity they report to would respond in an appropriate, effective manner, know exactly who to contact and how, and it is an easy process?

There are two challenges here. We need a strong, accessible, trusted reporting mechanism that people are able to use with confidence, and we need to shift community culture and change our ideas about what is and is not our business. We need to understand that what we do and do not do matters, and can be the difference between life and death for the people who depend on others to do something.

A four-year-old child was left home alone on multiple occasions, and she is certainly not the only one. She was left in the care of a person who reportedly hurt her and, according to what we have read on social media, possibly sexually abused and killed her. This person was, reportedly, abusive to the child’s mother. People want to know why the mother left her child with a person she knew was abusing her, even if she did not know he was also abusing the child.

It is easy for us, on the outside, to say what we would never have done. We can easily swear that we would have done whatever it took to protect our children. We, however, were not in this woman’s situation, and we do not know her mental state.

We do not know the specifics of the abuse she endured nor the effects on her mental health. Putting her child in danger cannot be excused, yet we must make the connection between her behaviour and her experience of violence. To ignore it would be a failure to recognize the effects of violence.

We have to ask how and why this happened, and how we can prevent it from happening to anyone else.

We, in The Bahamas, do not have a proper social safety net which should improve the lives of people in situations of vulnerability. We have a desperate need for programmes that reduce vulnerability, and that includes poverty. We need a way to better manage unemployment, illness, disability and ageing. We need to prioritize care for children. Where can people with low incomes take their children while they are at work?

We know that many children are abused when they are left at home alone, with family members and with friends. Everyone does not have responsible, trustworthy family members who are able to take care of their children. For many, they have a trusted person, but their home is not safe because they allow other, not-so-trusted people to enter.

We need public childcare programmes and subsidies. Children are increasingly put in unsafe environments because their parents cannot afford childcare. This is not a private issue or a matter that is the sole responsibility of a household or a family. This is a national issue that needs to be addressed in national policies and programming with allocation in the national budget.

Just as we are outraged about the death of this four-year-old child as a result of injuries that, allegedly, were inflicted by her mother’s boyfriend, we have to be outraged by the negligence of successive administrations that have, without a doubt, been aware of the circumstances.

I have seen people calling for use of the cat -o-nine-tails, the death penalty, and a sex offenders registry.

These are all reactions. It is understandable that people are angry, and the first instinct is to demand the physical harm of the person responsible for the horrific acts we are discussing. People cling to “an eye for an eye,” and want to respond to inhumane acts with the same kind of punishment.

Whatever our positions on their use, the cat o’ nine tails and the death penalty do not solve the problem. They would be used after far too much has happened and at least one person has been significantly harmed. We can beat and kill rapists and abusers every day, and it would not address the issues that the killing of Bella make clear, if only we stop to think about it beyond the incident itself.

We are all angry. We know that Bella should not have been killed. We know this could have been avoided, if only.

We want something to be done. Let’s make sure that what we demand and what we get is not symbolic or ill-suited to our context.

We need to call for actions that will prevent gender-based violence, including domestic violence and intimate partner violence, and child abuse.

Our focus cannot be on what happens after these egregious acts have been perpetrated.

We need to stop them from happening. Let’s ensure that children are in safe, loving homes, that women and mothers are in healthy relationships, and that those who need help can access it with ease.

Let’s build relationships with the people around us so we can truly call ourselves communities, and ensure that we have the resources we need to address the issues we know exist and those we will surely come to know.

The outrage we see and feel will not last. It never does. Let’s do something that will.

Published in The Tribune on November 10, 2021.

Physical violence is an undeniable issue in The Bahamas. Reported events bring shock, fear and disappointment, filling us with questions, self-righteous proclamations and rebuke. In disbelief and grief, we look at the world around us, shaking heads and shrugging shoulders. We see physical violence as separate from us, and completely unrelated to the way we speak with one another. We do not want to make that connection, and that is unfortunate. It exists whether or not we acknowledge or choose to address it.

While it is exciting to finally have platforms — like social media and talk radio — allowing various levels of control, monitoring and contribution, they reveal a societal problem that presents an opportunity. We do not know how to disagree well, and we need to learn.

Disagreement is not inherently bad. It does not need to be rude, unproductive, or life-threatening. It is unreasonable to expect complete consensus on any issue. Even when we agree on the what, we are bound to butt heads on the how. Again, this is not an insurmountable problem. It only requires that we have conversations about points of disagreement and find courses of action to cure the disease we have already diagnosed.

Over the past few days, I have observed activity on a few Facebook threads. I considered the amount of time and energy wasted on arguments that really had nothing to do with the matter raised, and almost seemed to intentionally detract from the valid points being made. This happens every day, multiple times per day, but for what reason? Do people just love to argue? Do we like to make each other feel stupid? Is it a game for some of us, trying to see how quickly and easily we can derail a conversation?

Have you ever witnessed a conversation involving people who are in agreement, but they don’t know it? One person says the sun is hot, and the other says they are hot because of the sun. They make the same point in different terms and somehow come to the conclusion they are on opposing sides. They argue about the importance of vitamin D, while you stand there wondering why this happened. You want to explain to them they are saying the same thing, but it is too far gone now. One of them is google searching alternate sources of vitamin D to prove it may be worthwhile to get sunburn because vitamin tablets are too expensive. You have to walk away.

On Saturday, someone posted about mosquito fogging. What chemicals are they using? Are they harmful to people? Is there a schedule so we can close our windows and plan to be indoors or out of the area? She explained the reasons for her concern and many people agreed. It was not long, of course, before people showed up to suggest we are all either ungrateful or confused.

Here’s a typical example: “I saw at least 20 posts last week complaining about mosquitoes. Now they doing something and there’s complaining about that. Can we ever please Bahamians?”

Some people on the thread figured we all just hate the government, and nothing they do will be right in our eyes. “It’s six of one and half dozen the other. Mosquito-borne illness or chemicals. Can’t win for losing.”

The original poster did not explicitly state she was against fogging. Her post made it quite clear she was not a fan of chemicals, but especially unknown chemicals. How is it that people decided she was completely opposed to fogging? Maybe she would like to be free of mosquitoes and be sure she is not being poisoned at the same time. Too much to ask?

As a person who does not like mosquitoes and would rather not be poisoned, I find her position quite reasonable. As someone who generally keeps the windows open and goes running, I agree a schedule would be helpful and the government should not have to be asked for it. This is not the same as ingratitude.

If no one asks the questions, clearly no individual, department, or ministry of the government will make this information available. They can please this Bahamian — and probably the one who asked the question on Facebook — by doing something about the mosquitoes and telling us what that is and how we will be affected. That is really not something to argue about, but if there is disagreement, it should be about that central point. Someone wants to know what is being used and, subsequently, inhaled by human beings.

In recent weeks, Paul Ratner’s article on Paul Graham’s “How to disagree” essay has been circulating on social media. It includes a pyramid that ranks the ways people engage when in disagreement. At the highest level is refuting the central point. Toward the middle are counterargument and contradiction, and name-calling is at the bottom.

Also included, near the bottom, is tone policing. This is a frequent practice, particularly when a member of a marginalised community speaks on an issue affecting them and their community. Dominant groups are quick to say they are angry or using the wrong approach. Suggesting the central point is of no import or consequence does not even make the cut.

Graham says, though it may feel like it, we are not actually getting angrier. Disagreement just gives us more room to talk and, quite obviously, we all want to be heard. Even if we truly disagree, it is important we do it well. If you have a different point of view, make sure you can refute the central point of the person’s argument.

Unless you have a problem with the government informing citizens of the chemicals used for mosquito fogging and have a counterargument, it does not make sense to post in disagreement. You may not like the tone of the post or the person posting. You may think the topic is silly. You may think something else matter more. None of these are valid arguments.

Sometimes people get into defence mode because they feel attacked, even when their names have not been called. They feel the need to set the record straight.

On Tuesday morning, I read a horrifying story by a woman who was given the run-around on the day she gave birth to her second child at Princess Margaret Hospital. PMH wrongfully forced her to go to the public ward when she told them she had already paid for private. This resulted in her private doctor not being able to deliver her baby, and her husband not being allowed in the room. In addition, she was not given anything for pain, so almost nothing went according to her birthing plan.

In her post, she pointed out the issues with PMH administrative practices and encounters with rude, uncaring nurses. While most people sympathised and encouraged her to take further action, a number of nurses felt the need to defend themselves and their profession. They said all nurses are not like that, most nurses are kind and caring but that a few bad nurses make everyone look bad. That may be the case, but is that what the original poster needed to read in response to her story? No. Could it completely derail the important conversation? Yes.

Everything does not have to be an argument. We do not always have to disagree, but when we do, let’s do it well. Let your argument stand on its own. Do not disrespect other participants in the conversation, or distract them from the central point. Focus on that central point, and take it down with supporting material. Communication does not have to be a problem, and disagreement does not have to end in violence. We have to argue better.

Published by The Tribune on April 4, 2018.

Gender-based violence is a pervasive issue that often goes unrecognised and unchecked. We all know it exists, but our understanding of it can be quite limited in scope and type.

In discussions about violence, emphasis is generally put on direct violence which includes physical acts like hitting and pushing, with little focus on forms of violence that are just as damaging. Direct violence also includes sexual violence, from harassment to rape, and less frequently discussed acts like human trafficking, exploitation of domestic workers and online harassment.

We have fallen into the habit of excusing direct violence. We find ways to put blame on the survivors and victims of violence. This is sometimes because we want to protect the abusers, but in most cases, we fail to recognise certain acts as violence. We use words like “teasing” and “flirting” to downplay harassment, refusing to see the distinction between them.

Women and girls are seen as unfriendly or “stuck up” when they dare to say or show that attention is unwanted. Men and boys are allowed to make nuisances of themselves because there is more value on their performance of masculinity and seeking to fill their own needs than the comfort and safety of women and girls.

Far too many people concern themselves with what a women or girl was wearing, where she was, who she was with and why she was there with whomever was in her company when she reports sexual assault. This refusal to recognise the violation in favour of misplacing blame for the violation is another act of violence.

Indirect violence includes systemic issues and the stereotypes with which we are familiar, even if we do not recognise them as such.

Yesterday, in a session focused on the United Nations Convention for the Elimination of All forms of Discrimination Against Women, a differently-abled woman spoke out about the lack of access to spaces — public and otherwise — and increased vulnerability of differently-abled women.

She identified the exclusion of differently-abled women as an act violence. This is a form of violence we do not often recognise or acknowledge, but is part of the lived reality of differently-abled people and compounds the marginalisation of differently-abled women. Women do not get to be only women. We are women and black, women and queer, women and poor, women and elderly and any number of other layered identities.

Every year, 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence — a global campaign — run from November 25 to December 10. It opens on the Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women and closes on International Human Rights Day. These observations underscore both the pervasive and possibly most easily identified forms of gender inequality and the recognition of women’s rights as human rights. This campaign coincides with National Women’s Week in The Bahamas which this year began on the fifty-fifth anniversary of the first time Bahamian women voted.

The Department of Gender and Family Affairs planned Orange Day, a church service and the information and walk-through of the CEDAW report. The Department also disseminated information on NGO-led events and initiatives, including the Zonta Says No town hall held last night and the series of events and actions organised by Equality Bahamas.

These included a Day of Silence, screening of Marion Bethel’s Womanish Ways — a documentary on the Bahamian Women’s Suffrage Movement — and open mic at Expressions at Bistro Underground being held tonight, featuring Tingum Collective from University of The Bahamas, Blue Elite dance troupe and poets Zemi Holland and Letitia Pratt.

This 16-day campaign includes a broad range of activities which are aimed at raising awareness and driving action. Beyond wearing orange and attending events in droves, it is critical we advocate for the change we need, systemically, to end gender-based violence. As Donna Nicolls, of Bahamas Women’s Watch, stated at a few events thus far during the campaign, we need to continue our action and remember that 16 days is not enough.

The campaign is beneficial for introducing people to the issues, increasing and deepening understanding of those issues and connecting with organisations and individuals working on women’s rights and ending gender-based violence year-round all over the world.

Last year, the Life in Leggings movement started in Barbados, swept across the region and encouraged many Bahamian women to share their stories of sexual violence. For most of them, it was the first time they had spoken about their experiences.

While the campaign was not launched as a part of the 16-day campaign, it connected thousands of Caribbean women and highlighted the similarity of stories, laws and systemic issues. This year, just before the beginning of the campaign, people in Guyana stood in support of high school girls who reported sexual violence by a teacher and rebuked the headmistress who shamed girl students for not supporting their teacher. They pushed for a response from the Ministry of Education with regard to the teacher and the headmistress. It is clear none of us can wait for annual campaigns, nor can we limit our advocacy and activism to these limited periods.

Everyone is not able to participate in global campaigns or contribute to ongoing work in the same ways, so it is important to consider various levels of involvement, time commitment, and frequency of activity. As the holidays approach and the season of giving makes us more willing to part with money, think about how can you support an organisation advocating for the rights of women or providing support to women and girl survivors of violence.

While money is always helpful, a phone call or email to find out about items needed is always welcome. The Bahamas Crisis Centre, for example, is currently in need of nonperishable food including noodles, tuna, corned beef and small packs of rice.

Whether you can give a can of tuna or a case of tuna, it would be appreciated by both the organisation and its clients.

There are always people who want to help, but are not able to give tangible items, and there is space for them too. Bahamas Sexual Health and Rights Association (BaSHRA) is running Baby Can Wait — a comprehensive sexual education program — in a few high schools this academic year and could certainly benefit from more volunteers willing to be trained and assigned a class to teach for one hour per week for ten weeks. There are many ways to take action and Equality Bahamas is sharing a new idea every day during 16-days.

The first step is to think about violence in its various forms, where it shows up in your life and how you respond to it. Every act of violence is not intentional, but is still wrong, so it is on the individual, along with organisations, to be intentional in our actions and inclusion of women and girls and all other marginalised people.

Published in Culture Clash — a weekly column in The Tribune — on November 30, 2017

Published in Culture Clash — a weekly column in The Tribune — on October 4, 2017

Crime is never off our minds for very long. News reports, stories from friends, social media evidence and personal experiences guarantee our awareness and vigilance. It’s difficult to manage our own fear of crime. For many years crime has been viewed as an evil affecting other people. The likelihood that we, as individuals, would become victims of crime seemed low enough to allow us a relatively carefree existence. Now, with numbers rising — particularly violent crimes like murder and rape — we all feel a bit closer to the issue. It could be our homes, businesses, cars, or bodies next.

Our fear of crime is not irrational. It is a threat we know too well and consider far too often as we perform the most mundane tasks. We do not want to lose what we’ve earned, we want to avoid pain and we want to live. Unfortunately we will not survive without sober consideration of crime and its root causes. From poverty to conflict there are a number of issues to study and remedy. One of the most pervasive issues in Bahamian society is violence and the way we perceive, perpetuate and perform it.

Violence includes physical and nonphysical acts intended to cause harm. For now, let’s focus on the former. Physical violence exists in the media and entertainment we consume including television shows, movies, music and video games. In many instances it is the selling point. We have become so accustomed to on-screen violence it hardly elicits a response. We expect it. We ignore it. We encourage. We find endless ways to excuse acts of violence, insisting the victim deserves it because of some act or failure to act. Perhaps more disturbing this attitude is not limited to the fantasy worlds we enter through screen. It accompanies us in our daily lives.

We have a communication problem. Physical violence has become our go-to form of expression. It is the quickest and easiest way, it seems, to express displeasure. Someone thinks their partner is cheating on them. They respond with violence. Someone loses their job because a former co-worker didn’t take responsibility for a mistake. They respond with violence. Someone’s personal property is accidentally damaged. They respond with violence. Where have we learned this behaviour? Why, when we feel we have been wronged, do we respond with acts of physical violence?

It’s difficult for many to talk about, but there is an issue with the way we raise children, and it is manifesting itself every day in our society. In many cases, children are not regarded as human beings. Their participation is limited, they are heavily guarded and missteps are met with violence under the guise of discipline. Parents and guardians convince themselves that beating children is the best way to control their behaviour and mould them into what they deem to be acceptable human beings. Little thought, if any, is given to the negative — largely psychological — effects of corporal punishment. It is simply known as the quick fix that “worked for me.” It is believed to deter children from doing “wrong” and serves as an immediate means of correction. As with every action, we must consider impact versus intent. Sure, parents and guardians may intend to do their best in raising law-abiding, mannerly, well-behaved people, but what else are they doing when they beat children? Might this send the message that when someone does wrong, the appropriate response is to cause them physical harm?

What if we taught children to think critically? Can we teach them to stop and think before acting? To acknowledge their emotions and recognize what they feel in any given moment may not be the most important thing? Could it be useful to teach them self-control? We could do all of this, but probably not before we learn and model them ourselves. We must first come to the realization that punishment is not the most important thing, nor is it the most effective.

Our obsession with punishment is evidenced by our rigid positions on corporal punishment for children and the death penalty. We are more concerned about exerting power and using fear as a control mechanism than we are about building character and addressing environmental and societal issues that influence behaviour. In addition to the use of fear, punishment is frequently meant to cause embarrassment and prompts children to hide their mistakes instead of talking about and learning from them. This focus on negativity leaves little room to acknowledge and encourage good behaviour. Positive reinforcement is severely lacking and, in combination with the glorification of heavy-handedness in punishment, is causing harm to the psyche.

It is critical to our wellbeing that we exercise more intentional thoughtfulness and constructive criticism of current behaviour and the long-lasting effects of the same. It is not safe to assume that our survival of our parents’ methods is indicative of their merits. In fact, being in-one-piece is not all there is to survival and many of us carry the trauma of childhood abuse with us. Some among us are fighting mental illness, diagnosed and undiagnosed, further complicating navigation of everyday life. There are apologies we may never get. Wrongs that may never be made right. Healing that may never come. Nothing could make any of these things worth the loss or grief, but admitting to ourselves that what we witnessed, survived, or mimicked has caused harm and choosing to find better, healthier ways is a start to tackling the seemingly unsurmountable issue of crime.

This, of course, is not the only reason for the rate of violent crime in The Bahamas, but that needs individual, family, and community response.

It is the beginning of a vicious cycle that teaches us, over and over again, that violence is an appropriate response. Corporal punishment has not remedied any social ills. This form of “discipline” in many Bahamian homes is a lazy, emotional response that forms the root of a larger problem. It’s one that demands our attention on a daily basis and will not go away without a shift in our thinking and behaviour. Why not start in our own homes?

Featured image by nitpix at Morguefile.com