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Without solidarity there is no social movement: beyond the rainbow
As this month draws to a close, it is worth remembering that for several years now June has been recognised as Pride Month. It is a significant date in the calendar for the LGBTQ+ community both nationally and internationally. Arguably, it is now a cultural event marked by celebrations and activities in towns and cities across the world. On the surface, it may not appear to be a criminological talking point. However, that changes when we consider the origins of Pride itself.
It is widely acknowledged that Pride has its roots in the Stonewall Riots of June 1969. At the time, a marginalised community, alongside other groups campaigning for equality, raised concerns that were fundamentally about civil and human rights. They made a stand against discrimination and criminalisation. Respect and decriminalisation were among the key issues, accompanied by broader demands for equal rights, including the recognition of same-sex relationships and the right to family life. The birth of Pride, therefore, is firmly rooted in activism, civil rights, and the struggle for visibility.
During the 1970s, Pride was unapologetically political, highlighting the inequalities and prejudices faced by the LGBTQ+ community, many of which stemmed directly from the criminalisation of homosexual acts. In the UK, calls for reform had already begun to gain momentum. Following the Wolfenden Report (1957), homosexual acts between consenting men over the age of 21 were decriminalised in England and Wales in 1967. Scotland followed in 1980 and Northern Ireland in 1982. While decriminalisation ended the prosecution of consenting adults, the struggle for equality was far from over.
In 1988, the UK government introduced Section 28 of the Local Government Act, which prohibited local authorities from “promoting homosexuality” through teaching or published materials. It became clear that Pride remained an essential mechanism for drawing attention to injustice and actively protesting against it. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, Pride was as much a political demonstration as it was a celebration of visibility and community. Campaigns focused on issues such as repealing Section 28, equalising the age of consent, and achieving legal recognition for same-sex relationships. Equality in the age of consent was eventually achieved in England, Wales, and Scotland in 2001 and in Northern Ireland in 2008. Section 28 was repealed in 2003 in England and Wales, having already been repealed in Scotland in 2000. Civil partnerships came into effect in 2005, and same-sex marriage was legalised in 2014, with the first marriages taking place in 2014 in England, Wales, and Scotland and in 2020 in Northern Ireland. For many people outside the LGBTQ+ community, these milestones appeared to signal the end of the movement’s activism.
Far from it.
Since the early 2000s, there has been a growing political focus on, and often hostility towards, members of the trans community. Questions surrounding access to public facilities, pronoun use, healthcare, and participation in sport have become central features of what is often described as the “culture wars”. It is interesting to observe the shift in language from civil rights to culture, as this change obscures the most important aspect of these debates. At their core, these are questions about human rights, dignity, and equal treatment.
Regrettably, some members of the LGBTQ+ community have distanced themselves from this struggle, arguing that full equality has already been achieved. To them, and to many others, I would simply point out that the movement born at Stonewall was led in significant part by trans women and gender-nonconforming individuals whose determination to be visible and respected helped ignite a global movement. Their courage challenged discrimination and injustice. They stood at the forefront of a community demanding recognition and dignity; their mascara countered discrimination and their lipstick was their war paint to fight injustice. Now that their rights are increasingly questioned and, in some cases, curtailed, the wider community should stand alongside them. After all, without solidarity there can be no social movement.
Many people today regard Pride as a relic of late twentieth-century activism that has lost its political relevance. In this view, it has become little more than a party or an excuse for performative displays. Such perspectives overlook a fundamental truth: human rights are rarely given freely, particularly to those who experience discrimination. They are fought for, defended, and maintained through constant vigilance because rights can be eroded as easily as they are won.
Even within the UK, some cities and towns continue to struggle to finance Pride events due to local political opposition or dwindling institutional support. Internationally, Pride marches are increasingly met with counter-protests framed around “family values”, while LGBTQ+ communities in a number of countries face direct and indirect attacks on their rights and freedoms. Several countries have restricted or banned Pride events altogether, while others have altered their legal frameworks in ways that make public expressions of LGBTQ+ identity increasingly difficult or risky. Furthermore, homosexuality remains criminalised in dozens of countries worldwide, with penalties ranging from imprisonment to, in some cases, far harsher punishments.
In many ways, the legal changes securing LGBTQ+ rights in the UK represent the fulfilment of decades of activism, mobilisation, and collective struggle. They are significant achievements and should be celebrated. Yet what matters most is what comes next. Progress is never guaranteed.
As the flags are taken down and the celebrations come to an end, as trans rights continue to be contested, and as democratic societies increasingly grapple with intolerance and authoritarian tendencies, perhaps it is time to remember the spirit that gave birth to Pride. Perhaps it is time, once again, to put on our lipstick and continue the struggle for those whose voices have too often been silenced.
And to the colleague who once asked me why the “L” comes first in the community’s acronym: it is there, in part, because during the AIDS crisis of the 1980s and 1990s, many lesbians stepped forward when others would not. They cared for gay men who were dying, held their hands when families and institutions turned away, and demonstrated a profound humanity in the face of fear and stigma. It is that humanity that we recognise, honour, and celebrate.
Images
L-R Sydney Gay and Lesbian Holocaust Memorial and Corby Pride
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What should criminologists talk about?
Recently, Criminology with Psychology graduate, now PhD student @zo3conneely wrote an entry focused on the rise of the Reform Party in British politics, which you can find here. In response, we received a comment via social media, asking what this entry had to do with Criminology. As we always say in Criminology, all questions are welcome and valid, after all, for many of us our mantra is ‘question everything’! From a lay perspective, the question indicates a particular understanding of academic disciplines, it presupposes that Criminology has a very narrow focus. In this view, criminologists should stay in their own lane and focus purely and simply on what is commonly understood as crime, i.e. actions which are against the law.
But hang on, doesn’t that fall under the purview of those who study or practice criminal law, something neither I not Zoe have undertaken? Alternatively, is it the business of those who work in the field of criminal justice, investigating and processing those believed to have been involved in law-breaking? Again, not something either Zoe or I have experience of. If my colleagues in law and criminal justice are the experts in actions against the law, where does Criminology fit in and why include a discussion on political parties such as Reform in a blog dedicated to the discipline?
However, the answer is more complex than the original question would indicate. The answer is also much longer than the question. Criminology has been described as a rendezvous or umbrella discipline, a space where everyone can gather to discuss crime from all perspectives. This includes disciplines as diverse as Drama, History, Literature, Philosophy, Psychology as well as many others, including Politics. It is therefore, expected that those who write for a Criminology blog will be drawn from a diverse range of academic backgrounds, for instance, whilst I have a BA and a PhD in Criminology, my MA is in the History of Medicine. For my fellow bloggers, their academic journeys will also be reflective of their curiosity and their developing academic knowledge and skills. It is therefore anticipated that each academic brings their own unique academic knowledge and personal experiences to the discussion table. It is this which enables Criminology to take a holistic approach, we don’t and should not seek consensus, but incorporate as many diverse views as is possible. Only then can we gain a real understanding of the phenomena we call crime, criminality, victimisation, and of course, the responses to such.
But what of crime itself? Do we all have a shared understanding of what ‘crime’ is? After all, much of the time we don’t see crime, only potentially some evidence that is has occurred. Furthermore, it depends very much on time and space. If we were living in 1960’s Britain, suicide, abortion and homosexuality would all feature heavily in our list of crimes. However, suicide was decriminalised in 1961, and abortion and homosexuality were partially decriminalised in 1967, with the latter further decriminalised in 2003. Likewise, if we were to look further afield we would crimes listed in statute books that we do not have here, for example adultery is a crime in Iran, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Somalia and was only repealed in Taiwan in 2020. Thus it is quickly evident that crime is not static, it can change drastically through time and place. We also have to recognise that crime can be decriminalised and recriminalised, for example the overturning of Roe vs Wade in the USA, removes the constitutional right for those pregnant to access abortions. If it taught us nothing else, the Covid-19 pandemic showed us rights can be granted and rights can be taken away, which means that criminologists need to keep a very careful eye on both the past and the present.
Whilst my colleagues in law have as their focus current legislation and how it is practised, and my colleagues in criminal justice seek to ensure that the law is enacted and used to the letter of that law, criminology is much freer. After all, we need to know who is making those laws and why. Whilst we can answer quite simply parliamentarians, this does not tell us very much. We also need to know who, for example only 14% of the current parliament belong to the Global Ethnic Majority, a smaller percentage than the population proportionately. Of these 90, 66 are drawn from the Labour Party, 15 Conservative and 5 Liberal Democrats. Likewise, at the 2024 election 40% of MPs are women, despite women making up over 50% of the UK’s population. Let’s not even get started on the disproportionate number of privately educated MPs, or the lack of visibility of disability, sexuality and so on…. Needless to say, the UK parliament does not look like the vast majority of the British public. Yet these are the people make our laws, and if we don’t understand that as a criminological issue, we will soon come unstuck.
We all need to understand what is happening once those laws have been passed, who is delivering justice for the UK? Whether we look at Judges, Barristers, Solicitors, we find a predominance of white men, only when we look at the magistracy we begin to find some real diversity. But don’t forget magistrates are unpaid, lay members of the judiciary, so it is perhaps unsurprising that women make up 57% of this particular field. So what about criminal justice practitioners? If we look at the police for England and Wales, over 91% are white, 65% are men. In relation to His Majesty’s Prison and Probation Service [HMPPS], over 54% are female, yet these are predominantly based within probation, not the prison service. So we begin to see that the people making, enacting and facilitation legislation and criminal justice do not look very much like the country’s population. Criminologically, this matters, how can we hope to tackle serious social harms like Violence Against Women and Girls [VAWG], homelessness, poverty etc when people have neither knowledge nor experience? Can we really talk achieve just outcomes if the people responsible do not look, sound like us, have very different, often privileged backgrounds which mean we have little shared experience?
Hopefully, this entry has gone a little way towards explaining why the discipline of Criminology (and of course, this blog) maintains an careful eye on politics, among a huge range of other interests. Don’t forget, Criminology is a positive discipline, focused on what could be, what ought to be, a fairer society for all of us.
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25 years of Criminology
When the world was bracing for a technological winter thanks to the “millennium bug” the University of Northampton was setting up a degree in Criminology. Twenty-five years later and we are reflecting on a quarter of a century. Since then, there have been changes in the discipline, socio-economic changes and wider changes in education and academia.
The world at the beginning of the 21st century in the Western hemisphere was a hopeful one. There were financial targets that indicated a raising level of income at the time and a general feeling of a new golden age. This, of course, was just before a new international chapter with the “war on terror”. Whilst the US and its allies declared the “war on terror” decreeing the “axis of evil”, in Criminology we offered the module “Transnational Crime” talking about the challenges of international justice and victor’s law.
Early in the 21st century it became apparent that individual rights would take centre stage. The political establishment in the UK was leaving behind discussions on class and class struggles and instead focusing on the way people self-identify. This ideological process meant that more Western hemisphere countries started to introduce legal and social mechanisms of equality. In 2004 the UK voted for civil partnerships and in Criminology we were discussing group rights and the criminalisation of otherness in “Outsiders”.
During that time there was a burgeoning of academic and disciplinary reflection on the way people relate to different identities. This started out as a wider debate on uniqueness and social identities. Criminology’s first cousin Sociology has long focused on matters of race and gender in social discourse and of course, Criminology has long explored these social constructions in relation to crime, victimisation and social precipitation. As a way of exploring race and gender and age we offered modules such as “Crime: Perspectives of Race and Gender” and “Youth, Crime and the Media”. Since then we have embraced Kimberlé Crenshaw’s concept of intersectionality and embarked on a long journey for Criminology to adopt the term and explore crime trends through an increasingly intersectional lens. Increasingly our modules have included an intersectional perspective, allowing students to consider identities more widely.
The world’s confidence fell apart when in 2008 in the US and the UK financial institutions like banks and other financial companies started collapsing. The boom years were replaced by the bust of the international markets, bringing upheaval, instability and a lot of uncertainty. Austerity became an issue that concerned the world of Criminology. In previous times of financial uncertainty crime spiked and there was an expectation that this will be the same once again. Colleagues like Stephen Box in the past explored the correlation of unemployment to crime. A view that has been contested since. Despite the statistical information about declining crime trends, colleagues like Justin Kotzé question the validity of such decline. Such debates demonstrate the importance of research methods, data and critical analysis as keys to formulating and contextualising a discipline like Criminology. The development of “Applied Criminological Research” and “Doing Research in Criminology” became modular vehicles for those studying Criminology to make the most of it.
During the recession, the reduction of social services and social support, including financial aid to economically vulnerable groups began “to bite”! Criminological discourse started conceptualising the lack of social support as a mechanism for understanding institutional and structural violence. In Criminology modules we started exploring this and other forms of violence. Increasingly we turned our focus to understanding institutional violence and our students began to explore very different forms of criminality which previously they may not have considered. Violence as a mechanism of oppression became part of our curriculum adding to the way Criminology explores social conditions as a driver for criminality and victimisation.
While the world was watching the unfolding of the “Arab Spring” in 2011, people started questioning the way we see and read and interpret news stories. Round about that time in Criminology we wanted to break the “myths on crime” and explore the way we tell crime stories. This is when we introduced “True Crimes and Other Fictions”, as a way of allowing students and staff to explore current affairs through a criminological lens.
Obviously, the way that the uprising in the Arab world took charge made the entire planet participants, whether active or passive, with everyone experiencing a global “bystander effect”. From the comfort of our homes, we observed regimes coming to an end, communities being torn apart and waves of refugees fleeing. These issues made our team to reflect further on the need to address these social conditions. Increasingly, modules became aware of the social commentary which provides up-to-date examples as mechanism for exploring Criminology.
In 2019 announcements began to filter, originally from China, about a new virus that forced people to stay home. A few months later and the entire planet went into lockdown. As the world went into isolation the Criminology team was making plans of virtual delivery and trying to find ways to allow students to conduct research online. The pandemic rendered visible the substantial inequalities present in our everyday lives, in a way that had not been seen before. It also made staff and students reflect upon their own vulnerabilities and the need to create online communities. The dissertation and placement modules also forced us to think about research outside the classroom and more importantly outside the box!
More recently, wars in Europe, the Middle East, Africa and Asia have brought to the forefront many long posed questions about peace and the state of international community. The divides between different geopolitical camps brought back memories of conflicts from the 20th century. Noting that the language used is so old, but continues to evoke familiar divisions of the past, bringing them into the future. In Criminology we continue to explore the skills required to re-imagine the world and to consider how the discipline is going to shape our understanding about crime.
It is interesting to reflect that 25 years ago the world was terrified about technology. A quarter of a century later, the world, whilst embracing the internet, is worriedly debating the emergence of AI, the ethics of using information and the difference between knowledge and communication exchanges. Social media have shifted the focus on traditional news outlets, and increasingly “fake news” is becoming a concern. Criminology as a discipline, has also changed and matured. More focus on intersectional criminological perspectives, race, gender, sexuality mean that cultural differences and social transitions are still significant perspectives in the discipline. Criminology is also exploring new challenges and social concerns that are currently emerging around people’s movements, the future of institutions and the nature of society in a global world.
Whatever the direction taken, Criminology still shines a light on complex social issues and helps to promote very important discussions that are really needed. I can be simply celebratory and raise a glass in celebration of the 25 years and in anticipation of the next 25, but I am going to be more creative and say…
To our students, you are part of a discipline that has a lot to say about the world; to our alumni you are an integral part of the history of this journey. To those who will be joining us in the future, be prepared to explore some interesting content and go on an academic journey that will challenge your perceptions and perspectives. Radical Criminology as a concept emerged post-civil rights movements at the second part of the 20th century. People in the Western hemisphere were embracing social movements trying to challenge the established views and change the world. This is when Criminology went through its adolescence and entered adulthood, setting a tone that is both clear and distinct in the Social Sciences. The embrace of being a critical friend to these institutions sitting on crime and justice, law and order has increasingly become fractious with established institutions of oppression (think of appeals to defund the police and prison abolition, both staples within criminological discourse. The rigour of the discipline has not ceased since, and these radical thoughts have led the way to new forms of critical Criminology which still permeate the disciplinary appeal. In recent discourse we have been talking about radicalisation (which despite what the media may have you believe, can often be a positive impetus for change), so here’s to 25 more years of radical criminological thinking! As a discipline, Criminology is becoming incredibly important in setting the ethical and professional boundaries of the future. And don’t forget in Criminology everyone is welcome!
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Let’s talk about sex!
Very few topics receive attention as much as sex. A very primal human behaviour that gets people talking. In Criminology any discussion on sex contains those elements that make it less than appealing, abuse, exploitation and violation. Our focus on the criminal dimensions of sexual behaviour can disfigure the way we talk about it and misrepresent the joys of sex. It can be argued however that outlining the negatives gives way to a positive outlook to sex in a similar way to health professional’s focus on avoiding sexually transmitted diseases, leading to a healthy sexual life.
Sex is about affirming social relations, as part of our own intimacy. There is a variety on sex from feelings, practices and expressions that is as wide as humanity itself. It is a language we talk that needs no translation. This is why that abusive behaviours are regarded such a violation of the person. Rape, legally, is as serious as murder. The person victimised is losing something so intimate that it may never be recovered; one of the many reasons why people who suffered abuse are called survivors.
Our perspectives on sex changes and our society tried to accommodate them. Some years ago, Holland decided to include some scenes on “public liberal expressions on sexuality” as part of their material for their immigration test. This is a marked difference from the UK who decriminalised homosexuality but only behind closed doors.
Criminologically speaking there are certain elements that safeguard sexual behaviours. Age, relation, location and consent. The age of consent is recognising the minimum age any person can be legally responsible to engage in sexual relations. Under that age and it is statutory rape. Any relationship between close relatives in the UK can lead to imprisonment. Any sexual acts in public are regarded illegal, including sex in public toilets (cottaging) so sex remains behind closed doors. The final point is the most controversial; consent is paramount to any sexual relations. The important thing in sex is that we choose to engage with others or not.
Part of the criminological process is to ascertain how we understand consent and disseminate it to others. Academically there are several issues to consider and to investigate. This is one of criminology’s strengths to tap into the sociological and philosophical discourses offering some practical perspectives. In recent years the discussion about sex on campus for example has been one that raised awareness on consent. In criminology we discuss it in ways to amplify the importance of consent in sex and in relationships in general.
For a long time now, we have talked about safe spaces as a mechanism of allowing people to talk without judgement. We focus on educational practices that are focused on inclusion and empathy and disseminate work that challenges established notions that mythologise sexual relations and minimise the importance of consent.
Let’s explore some of the key points we disseminate. Sex is an individual right for all regardless of origin or identity, which makes it also a universal right. Law safeguards sexual relations, but the lack of reporting of sexual violence, the low conviction rate of those processed cases and the volume of unknowns underscore that we cannot resolve sexual violence legally. We cannot police sexual relations when our community does not prioritise the importance of safeguarding human rights. What we can do instead is to change that social discourse on sex. In one of my previous posts, I underscored the irony of proliferating legal interventions, whilst culturally we seem happy to receive expressions on misogyny, abuse and exploitation as legitimate expressions on sexuality. Policing sexual behaviours for example comes with a long history of retaining the straight man’s privilege of pleasure over all others. A privilege long retained unchallenged making the work of current and future criminologists even more pressing! At the end of this month, it is International Day of Consent in November 30, so from today until the end of the month, ask yourself what you have done to change the established narrative to make your own space more inclusive.
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Realtopia?
I have recently been reading and re-reading about all things utopic, dystopic and “real[life]topic” for new module preparations; Imagining Crime. Dystopic societies are absolutely terrifying and whilst utopic ideas can envision perfect-like societies these utopic worlds can also become terrifying. These ‘imagined nowhere’ places can also reflect our lived realities, take Nazism for an example.
In CRI1009 Imagining Crime, students have already began to provide some insightful criticism of the modern social world. Questions which have been considered relate to the increasing use of the World Wide Web and new technologies. Whilst these may be promoted as being utopic, i.e., incredibly advanced and innovative, these utopic technological ideas also make me dystopic[ly] worry about the impact on human relations.
In the documentary America’s New Female Right there are examples of families who are also shown to be using technology to further a far right utopic agenda. An example includes a parent that is offended because their child’s two favourite teachers were (described as being) ‘homosexuals’, the parents response to this appeared to be taking the child out of school to home school the child instead, but also to give their child an iPad/tablet screen to use as a replacement for the teachers. Another example consisted of a teen using social media to spread far right propaganda and organise a transphobic rally. In the UK quite recently the far right riots were organised and encouraged via online platforms.
I would not advise watching the documentary, aside from being terrifying, the report and their team did very little to challenge these ideas. I did get the sense that the documentary was made to satisfy voyeuristic tendencies, and as well as this, it seems to add to the mythical idea that far right ideology and actions only exists within self identified far right extremist groups when this is not the case.
Mills (1959) suggests that people feel troubled if the society in which they live in has wide scale social problems. So might the unquestioning and increased use of technologies add to troubles due to the spreading of hate and division? And might this have an impact on our ability to speak to and challenge each other? Or to learn about lives different to our own? This reminds me of Benjamin Zephaniah’s children’s book titled People Need People (2022), maybe technologies and use of the internet are both connecting yet removing us from people in some way.
References
Mills, C. W. (2000) The Sociological Imagination. Fortieth anniversary edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Zephaniah, B. (2022) People Need People. (London: Orchard Books)
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Gen Z’s gender divide
How can we help bridge Gen Z’s global gender divide as they negotiate for their futures? Unique to Gen Z, according to a recent study, women and men aged 16 to 29 diverge greatly on how they perceive existing inequality as well as assess their futures. That’s according to a widely-reported King’s College study, ‘Emerging tensions? How younger generations are dividing on masculinity and gender equality’, which also found:
- Men are around twice as likely as women to say doing housework and caring for family members are things that apply to both genders equally, despite evidence showing that in reality women do more of both on average. (See also: the Mental Load)
- A higher proportion of men also think there is no gender difference in likelihood of being a senior manager or earning a high income, yet research suggests these characteristics apply to men more than women in the UK. (See also: the UK government’s Gender Pay Gap index, and the Economist)
Family and parental leave – is just one way home and work lives overlap in policy, practice and legislation, acknowledging the importance of unpaid (domestic) labour. BBC news reports on one study that found, “men who take paternity leave do more childcare later.” How might these ‘emerging tensions’ impact the gender inequality in parental leave laws, policies, and practices?
One trend is for companies to create equal and pro-social family policies far beyond laws, not least of which is hybrid working. Flexible/hybrid work has been a lobbying target long before Covid by the Fawcett Society, which champions the Equal Pay Day campaign, and consults the government on the Gender Pay Gap. In 2023 their data highlighted that: “77% of women agreed that they would be more likely to apply for a job that advertises flexible working options.”
Other parental leave policies are gender-neutral, include IVF, adoptive and LGBTQAI+ parents, incentivise paternity leave, and host gendered employee networks. How else will these ‘emerging tensions’ show up in the workplace? One wonders how are other policies and practices promoting a fairer workplace and a healthier work/life balance?
It’s hard out here for…
Notably, all sorts of business news outlets have been reporting about this issue, and more recently about King’s College study, including Forbes, which found it curious that: “for those aged between 16 and 29…some 68% of women said that it was harder to be a woman, while only 35% of men agreed with that statement.” This article shines light on a gap and leaves it at that.
The Guardian has produced a series of articles and podcasts about the growing number of studies and polls reflecting this same cross-gender cultural rift: Here are a few headlines from just this past February:
1/2/24: Gen Z boys and men more likely than baby boomers to believe feminism harmful, says poll.
2/2/24: Friday briefing: Why the politics of young men and women are drifting further and further apart.
7/2/24: Why is generation Z so divided on gender? [Podcast]
Reporting on the study, The Independent headlines: “Of course Gen Z boys believe feminism is harmful – they’ve learnt it from the internet.” Indeed, the author reminds us that social media is quite apt at seeding and feeding division. “Algorithms often operate on extremes: because people tend to click on and engage with the most sensational, hyperbolic content, this is what the algorithm serves up.” Subsequently, young men and women grew up in two very different virtual worlds.
Feminism, the new F-word
According to the King’s College study: 42% of the public say, “equal rights … have had a positive impact on today’s young men.” This is acknowledged in the 2019 Government Equalities Office report, Changing Gender Norms: Engaging with Men and Boys, regarding the Advertising Standards Authority’s guidance on toxic masculine images, stating: “stereotypes implying that men should be physically strong, unemotional and family breadwinners are limiting and potentially damaging.”
Ironically, my career began in international development, which has long since addressed the role of boys and men in gender equality and masculinities, especially through the lens of sexual and reproductive health. In parallel, the work to decriminalise LGBTQAI+ communities simultaneously made alternative masculinities more visible to the wider society which lead even more to question, well frankly, patriarchy.
Still, in America, the majority, “whether they identify as feminists or not – say it is very important for women to have equal rights with men.” Could this be cognitive dissonance?
As these changes grow in wider society, we see organisations responding externally, e.g. virtue-signalling, diversity training, and rainbow advertising. How will organizations shift internally, e.g. in recruitment, retention, leadership, and reward?
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For years I’ve participated in my own oppression
I’d shout out against hate in public, but in private spaces I sat silent as homophobic slights and slurs came at me from people who said they cared for me.
I grinned and accepted the kindness of colleagues when they have said that their faith does not condone my “lifestyle,” telling myself kindness was a lifestyle as much as hypocrisy.
I tolerated students who sat in my office accepting my extra time and unpaid assistance,
Even when they’ve said, “hate the sin, love the sinner,” to my face.
I’ve been patient and listened deeply to my own students – beyond the call of duty –
Even when the very same folks used anti-gay slurs in my presence because their faith said so.
I remained silent even when I’ve seen those folks sin like nobody’s business.
I’ve waltzed quietly past openly anti-gay church groups passing out fliers of their flock, when I know plenty-o-gay folks who’ve barely survived growing up inside those hate cults.
I’ve walked by entire groups of people who look like me, holding my head high and pretending not to hear their snide comments about my lack of gender conformity.
I’ve been the only openly queer person in crowds of Black people, and
One of few Black people in entire crowds of queer folks, and
Accepted mere tolerance in place of respect, and
Refused to speak up against stereotypes about people like me in all these spaces, and
Acted like it didn’t matter.
It mattered.
It mattered each and every time, but
I covered my wounds, and
I learned to heal quickly, and
I kept moving so quickly that
Folks couldn’t see my feet shifting, and
I kept telling myself “It’ll be ok,” just because it gets better.
Life has gotten better, and
Allyship is real, and
Folks have stood by me in dark and in light, and
Friends have held my hand in my times of despair, so
Still I rise.
But even then, I’ve starred in my very own version of imitation of life.
I pretended that words didn’t hurt because I’m an adult, and
A role model to the youth I serve.
I’ve acted like I didn’t hear youth laugh and snicker as soon as I entered the room.
I heard.
I’ve acted like I didn’t see their parents side-eye me as I walked by.
I saw.
I acted like I didn’t care as some kid called me a sissy as I walked into the mall.
I cared.
When a 12-year-old kid called me a homophobic slur in class,
I facilitated an age-appropriate discussion about bullying, and
Pushed the shame he caused to the back of my mind.
I didn’t want to embarrass my colleagues by bringing it up.
Words from 12-year-old kids aren’t supposed to penetrate adults’ souls.
When the latest daily news repeatedly targets people like me for exclusion,
I’ve pretended like our lives didn’t matter.
We matter.
Words aren’t supposed to hurt, and
Stares aren’t supposed to mean much, and
I’m supposed to have it all together.
Let hate “roll off of you like water off a duck’s back” would roll off my tongue as easily as I could bump-n-grind to Cardi B.
But there comes a point when silence suffocates.
One reaches a point when staying quiet is untenable.
My inaudible screams of terror only turned inwards and tore my own heart out.
Silence equals death.
For years, I’ve participated in my own oppression.
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The dance of the vampires
We value youth. There is greater currency in youth, far greater than wisdom, despite most people when they are looking back wishing they had more wisdom in life. Modernity brought us the era of the picture and since then we have become captivated with images. Pictures, first black and white, then replaced by moving images, and further replaced by colour became an antidote to a verbose society that now didn’t need to talk about it…it simply became a case of look and don’t talk!
The image became even more important when people turned the cameras on themselves. The selfie, originally a self-portrait of reclusive artists evolved into a statement, a visual signature for millions of people using it every day on social media. Enter youth! The engagement with social media is regarded the gift of computer scientists to the youth of today. I wonder how many people know that one of the first images sent as a jpeg was that of a Swedish Playboy playmate the ‘lady with the feathers’. This “captivating” image was the start of the virtual exchange of pictures that led to billions of downloads every day and social media storing an ever-expanding array of images.
The selfie, brought with it a series of challenges. How many times can you take a picture, even of the most beautiful person, before you become accustomed to it. Before you say, well yes that is nice, but I have seen it before. To resolve the continuous exposure the introduction of filters, backgrounds and themes seems to add a sense of variety. The selfie stick (banned from many museums the world over) became the equipment, along with the tripod, the lamp and the must have camera, with the better lens in the pursue of the better selfie. Vanity never had so many accessories!
The stick is an interesting tool. It tells the individual nature of the selfie. The voyage that youthful representation takes across social media is not easy, it is quite a solitary one. In the representation of the image, youth seem to prefer. The top “influencers” are young, who mostly like to pose and sometimes even offer some advice to their followers. Their followers, their contemporaries or even older individuals consume their images like their ‘daily (visual) bread’. This seems to be a continuous routine, where the influencer produces images, and the followers watch them and comment. What, if anything, is peculiar about that? Nothing! We live in a society build on consumption and the industry of youth is growing. So, this is a perfect marriage of supply and demand. Period!
Or is it? In the last 30 years in the UK alone the law on protecting children and their naivety from exploitation has been centre stage of several successive governments. Even when discussing civil partnerships for same sex couples, Baroness Young, argued against the proposed act, citing the protection of children. Youth became a precious age that needed protection and nurturing. The law created a layer of support for children, particularly those regarded vulnerable. and social services were drafted in to keep them safe and away from harm. In instances when the system failed, there has been public outrage only to reinforce the original notion that children and young people are to be protected in our society.
That is exactly the issue here! In the Criminology of the selfie! Governments introducing policies to generate a social insulation of moral righteousness that is predicated on individual – mostly parental – responsibility. The years of protective services and we do not seem to move passed them. In fact, their need is greater than ever. Are we creating bad parents through bad parenting or are people confronted with social forces that they cannot cope with? The reality is that youth is more exposed than ever before. The images produced, unlike the black and white photos of the past, will never fade away. Those who regret the image they posted, can delete it from their account, but the image is not gone. It shall hover over them for the eternity of the internet. There is little to console and even less to help. During the lockdown, I read the story of the social carer who left their job and opened an OnlyFans account. These are private images provided to those who are willing to pay. The reason this experience became a story, was the claim that the carer earned in one month of OnlyFans, more than their previous annual income. I saw the story being shared by many young people, tagging each other as if saying, look at this. The image that captures their youth that can become a trap to contain them in a circle of youth. Because in life, before the certainty of death there is another one, that of aging and in a society that values youth so much, can anyone be ready to age?
As for the declared care for the young, would a society that cares have been closing the doors to HE, to quality apprenticeships, a living wage and a place to live? The same society that stirs emotions about protection, wants young people to stay young so that they cannot ask for their share in their future. The social outrage about paedophiles is countered with high exposure to a particular genre in the movies and literature that promotes it. The vampire that has been fashioned as young adult literature is the proverbial story of an (considerably) older man who deflowers a young innocent girl until she becomes infatuated with him. The movies can be visually stunning because it involves the images of young beautiful people but there is hardly any mention of consent or care!
It is one of the greatest ironies to revive the vampire image in youth culture. A cultural representation of a male prototype that is manipulative, intruding into the lives of seemingly innocent young people who become his prey. There is something incredibly unsettling to explore the semiology of an immortal that is made through a blood ritual. A reverse Peter Pan who consumes the youth of his victims. The popularity of this Victorian literary character, originally conceived in the era of industrial advancement,at a time when modernity challenged tradition, resurfaces with other monsters at times of great uncertainty. The era of the picture has not made everyday life easier, and modernity did not improve quality of life to the degree it proclaimed. Instead, whilst people are becoming captivated by ephemera they are focused on the appearance and missing substance. An old experience man, dark, mysterious with white skin may be an appealing character in literature but in real life a someone who feeds on young people’s blood is hardly an exciting proposition.
The blood sacrifice demanded by a vampire is a metaphor of what our society requires for those who wish to retain youth and save their image into the ether of the cyberworld as a permanent Portrait of Dorian Gray. In this context, the vampire is not only a man in power, using his privilege to dominate, but a social representation of what a consumer society places as the highest value. It is life’s greatest irony that the devouring power of a vampire is becoming a representation of how little value we place on both youth and life! A society focused on appearance, ignoring the substance. Youth looking but not youth caring!
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#CriminologyBookClub: Dying in Brighton
As you know by now, a small group of us decided the best way to thrive in lockdown was to seek solace in reading and talking about books. Hence the creation of #CriminologyBookClub! Building on on what has quickly become standard practice, we’ve decided to continue with all eight bloggers contributing! This title was the second chosen by @manosdaskalou and is our 14th book. Read on to find out what we thought….
I have no profound objection to self-published books but have read only one other. The rationale for reading the first one was to proof-read/copy edit for the author. That can’t really be called reading, because you miss the story by studying the text so closely. However, I digress. The blurb for this book sounded fascinating, individual narratives heading toward one place: Brighton. Unfortunately, whilst the idea for the book was clever, the writing was overly descriptive and at times, turgid. There is no space for the reader to imagine the characters or the places, everything is told in minute detail. There is a clear attempt to be inclusive with the choice of characters, but they are largely one-dimensional and lack authenticity. The final character talks about his supposed lack of representation as a white man in Brighton (with a white population of 90%) and at that point, I lost what little interest remained. In feminist circles, the question “what would a mediocre white man do?” is prevalent, a possible response could be; write this book. The only positive I have to offer is the support offered by sales to Shelter.
@paulaabowles
The format and style of the book was unlike anything I had read before: and I really liked it. The characters were full of life: a life riddled with inequalities, harm and pain. Unlike other reads where I have failed to feel anything for the characters (or anything other than a serious dislike), Dying in Brighton evoked a number of emotions from myself towards the people in the book. However these emotions were left in a sort of vacuum, with myself feeling very ‘meh’ at the end of the book. I was disappointed with the final chapter. Whilst I can appreciate the ending and the manner in which it is told, I did not like it. I wanted to know more about how Akeem, Nicola, Wasim, Lori and Paul got to the end they got to. Considering the ‘end result’ and my emotions from the previous chapters, I feel I should have had a more powerful response to the end: but I did not. The short snippets were not enough for me: and I feel that the last chapter does not do their stories or their lives justice. Despite this, I would recommend!
@jesjames50
The title Dying in Brighton does not leave much to the imagination. I am glad that the purchase of this book supports a charity. Unfortunately, I found this book to be problematic. I did not understand his selection of characters or how their stories linked. The book reads as though a heterosexual white man who is not disabled is congratulating the white men characters within the book for being friends with people who are migrants or LGBT. There is even a point where a character feels ‘underrepresented’ as a white man…I skimmed the book as I am sick of hearing similar to this in reality.
@haleysread
This is a book that definitely divided the book club and I have to say the comments were by far more negative than positive. For my part, I found the narrative interesting in a strange sort of way. I didn’t find myself labouring on the description and attributes of the characters but rather took in an overall sense of ordinary people that were troubled and in trouble for some reason or another and therefore found themselves gravitating to Brighton; in fairness they could have gone anywhere. The book didn’t take long to read, and the narrative ends rather abruptly but I think that is probably the point. The book left me with a sense of sadness, and it reminded me that homeless people are real people with real lives and yet are very often invisible in our society. Would I read something from the same author again, probably not? Would I recommend the book, probably not, but it did hit a mark somewhere along the line?
@5teveh
This book was a very quick read. Each chapter presented a very stereotypical view of a member of every marginalised group you can think of – a refugee, a trans woman, a troubled teenage girl. The book ended with a chapter about a rich white man with houses all over the world, finding himself feeling like he wasn’t represented. It turns out – spoiler alert – that all the marginalised people went to Brighton, became homeless and died. At the end a woman was selling craftwork with each of the dead, marginalised homeless person’s face. Now I can see how, to a critical criminologist, all this is problematic to say the least. However, the book carried a message that homeless people are invisible. People walk past them every day without a second glance. The author also donated profits of the book to Shelter so it was for a good cause. So, although the book was heavily criticised during our discussion, for people in many walks of life I’d like to think the book would quite literally open their eyes and say hello to a person living on the streets.
@amycortvriend
This book centres around 5 different characters and their life experiences and choices that lead them to Brighton. When I first read the blurb, I assumed this book would take me on a thought-provoking journey about individuals that could be seen as outsiders within society, and how their stories are interwoven. What was thought provoking for me was how the representation of individuals can be so wrong. Throughout the book I was distracted by the problematic ways in which the characters were portrayed. I didn’t like the hyper sexualisation of Lori, I felt like this was an attempt to explore transgender issues without any understanding of transgender issues… it was tasteless and done from a male gaze. I also didn’t like the lack of context and understanding of refugees, this exploration was very tone deaf and seemed informed by how the ‘Western world’ views refugees. Usually when reading a book I have some emotion to the characters, however I felt far removed from all the characters and their stories. At the end of the book I also felt like the stories of the five individuals were rushed, there was no back story to why or how they had died in Brighton just that they were dead. I don’t know what angle the author was going for but for me the ending fell flat.
@svr2727
This book sounded very promising and I usually really enjoy short stories about very different characters and their experiences and how they converge but this book was disappointing in so many ways. Obviously being self-published meant that it wasn’t as polished as it could’ve been and I find little mistakes to spelling and punctuation really distracting from a story. I wish this was my only complaint! The characters were badly written caricatures – you got the sense that the author had never spent any time with anyone from those backgrounds and that perhaps he wasn’t the right person to be telling these stories. The most authentic chapter of the book was the final one where the narrator (a successful white man) feels that he isn’t represented! Easily the worst book I’ve ever read.
@saffrongarside
This is an anthology of different stories of people in very adverse circumstances all of whom are heading to Brighton. In most cases it is not clear why they are heading that way and what they hope from their move there. The short stories are independent from each other and there is no obvious connection between them. Each story explores a different character faced with different issues from abuse, sexuality and substance use. It sends out a signal of some of the social vulnerabilities people are exposed; this however is done as a matter of fact not exploring the social dimensions of the situation. The end brings the stories together but for me this was unsatisfactory. This book has a great idea, an interesting layout but its execution does not meet the goal. The stories are interesting but some of them feel a bit rushed; more character development would have allowed the reader to get closer to the situation and the social issues the author wants to alert people to. As I read it, I thought that some of the stories read more like vignettes that we use in exercises or training for making people aware of certain problems. In terms of literary merit, these are not quite there.
@manosdaskalou
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Kisses from Granny Don’t Count! #BlackenAsiaWithLove #ShortStory
In America, and most certainly in the land of Dixie and cotillions, at the end of junior high school year we have a tradition of getting our senior class rings. By “getting,” I mean individually buying a ring from the same one or two companies in our city who cash in on this ritual annually. We knew that many of us had to foot the bill with our own after-school jobs, while others’ parents could virtually write a blank check! (Hopefully, at least, or perhaps most assuredly, somebody in the school system gets a kickback from all this cash flow.)
While class rings appeared personalized, the rings – and the ritual – were effectively mass manufactured, complete with standardized shapes and design features: school’s name and mascot – in our case a bear – class year (1993!), and maybe our initials inscribed inside. Oh, and a heteronormative adolescent sexualized ritual to which I shall return shortly.
Rings are generally presented at a school ceremony. Until graduation, class rings are worn facing the wearer as motivation towards the ultimate achievement, after which it is worn outward as a badge of pride and honor. A graduating class could all agree to the same design – usually the school colors – which I believe the majority of my class did. While I prefer the look of silver against my dark skin, our school colors were royal blue and gold, so classes at our school often got blue sapphire set in the lowest Karat gold available that didn’t look cheap. For such a notoriously liberal school (i.e., gender and racially/geographically* integrated by design), this was one of the few explicit acts of conformity.
‘You Wear it Well’ – DeBarge, 1985
The next part of the tradition is having 100 different people turn the ring, as sort of an acknowledgement of becoming a senior. The first 99 turn it in one direction, while the final person reverses the order. This clockwise/counter-clockwise turn seals the deal. Yet get this, you’re supposed to kiss the hundredth person who turns the ring. You say the word “kiss” in front of most any group of adolescents and they’ll giggle. We knew what kind of kiss was meant. FRENCH like fries! Somehow becoming a senior in high school had been coopted by this hetero-ritual, a hetero-rite of passage (het-or-no-rites!).
I am troubled that this academic milestone is linked to gender. Worse, the ritual is predictably a performance act that fixes gender to normative sexual roles; yes, heteropatriarchy. Worse still, this binary gender performance is discrete, couched in achieving a basic education.
The ring dealer comes to school and makes a sales pitch to the class, and sets up a booth in the lobby after school. In his pitch, he promises a ‘free’ glossy little form to collect all the signatures. It was a bait and switch. These dealers sold us the rings but gave us the forms, the evidence we needed to prove we’d passed another stage towards adulthood. And what were we supposed to do with the blank glossy forms? Come back to school and boast?
The first 50 or so signatures were just us. Our own schoolmates turning each other’s rings, filling in each other’s forms on the very day the rings arrived. Family filled in a lot, too. I distinctly remember a teacher or two requesting to be excluded from the tradition, or take part in the ring ritual of becoming a senior, else we whittle their fingers away.
We all know everybody only wanted to see who signed the final line – a prompt to incite heteronormalizing speech-acts. Well, a few folks weren’t single and already had that 100th spot reserved and filled by sundown. Needless to say, kisses from granny don’t count! I’m pretty sure this wasn’t written on the dealer’s well-crafted sheet. Our market dominated, heteronormative introduction to adulthood for all to see.
I’d attended the same school since second grade so I’d seen people celebrate this class ring ritual for years, and even attended several graduations. I’d watched the “Senior run” year after year – a day at the end of school, when the graduating class runs through all the halls, cheering, banging on lockers as all the kids in all the classes rush out to line the hallways and egg them on. I loved school, adored our school, adored my classmates, and even looked forward to our turn, though parting so bittersweet.
At 16, I was only starting to be able to fully disidentify with the barrage of heterosexualized norms that engulfed me. I had to disentangle heterosexuality from virtually every facet of life – even finishing high school, a normal step we’re all expected to take. It’s as if to gain access to what bell hooks calls ‘the good life’ one had to signify alignment with compulsory heterosexuality.
I knew that I could not even turn my ring 100 times without kissing a girl. No way I’d risk putting a guy’s name at the end of that glossy list – someone I’d actually dreamt of French-kissing. Not like I knew any guy who’d be game. Damn. This was a lot of pressure. This junior prom was forcing me to make all kinds of adult decisions.
“The more I get of you, the stranger it feels…”
I was 16, and wasn’t out yet. Unlike at twelve when these feelings first bubbled over, by 16 I was on the cusp of self-acceptance, and preparing to face this possibility that I was gay. Perhaps it was pure timing. By the 11thgrade I knew for sure I’d be leaving home months after graduation, which was suddenly within reach. I could chart my own homo path. But still, at that age, I had doubts. I tried seriously dating a young woman as my last-ditch effort to see if I was straight or (at least) bisexual.
Kaye wasn’t a classmate, which wouldn’t have worked anyway because in retrospect all my classmates already knew, and had decided to accept me without question. Kaye attended an all-girls’ school, so we’d met through an extracurricular, Black youth empowerment program. Kaye was clearly college bound. She had her own dreams and ambitions, and pursued them – an ideal mate for me. She was the most attractive woman I knew, both inside and out, both to me and others. Yes, THAT sister who is not invulnerable, but has it all together. If she didn’t do, then dammit I was gay!
Fortunately, my girl was smart. And by smart, I mean that she was intelligent, real smart as in NOT clueless at all. We agreed to a kiss on the cheek, and she’d sign the last line on my glossy form. And by ‘agreed to’, I mean that this is what Kaye put on the table as her firm and final offer. She also had the good sense to let me turn her ring, too, but she reserved the 100th signature for someone special. I respected that. This clarified our plutonic status – no Facebook updates needed: I’m gay.
“Gotta find out what I meant to you…You were sweet as cheery pie/ Wild as Friday night”
Thoughts from the criminology team 