The words aren’t flowing today. They haven’t, for over five months now. On this topic. But it feels urgent, that it needs to be written. Even if it doesn’t have action items or takeaways, simply acknowledging the issue seems important. So here goes.
It is late evening. The party has just begun. The dance floor is gearing up, the bar is open. And the people start congregating.
As the hours progress, the music gets louder, the dancing wilder, and the people bolder.
If you observe carefully, you would notice sub-groups forming, owing allegiance to one another. Not necessarily from the same function or the same team, nor the same geography or the same business group, but something different.
The same gender. The women get together. A small group of women, because women are always in small groups in office settings, meetings or parties, conference rooms or banquet halls.
‘Safe space’ is a popular concept in the figurative context, one that we use regularly, in the annals of our WhatsApp groups and meeting rooms, team catch-ups and cafeteria chats. “You can speak here,” we say, “This is a safe space.”
But, how do we carve out a physically safe space in the disco lights of the nights, the romping around rampant and never-ending?
You might argue with me, what’s the need for a safe space in an office party where everyone is known to you.
But then, it is actually more important amidst known faces than unknown ones, faces you will see day after day, before and after the party, faces you don’t want to associate with party overtures or a misplaced advance, inebriated or otherwise.*
What does one do then, you ask me.
In an ideal world, I shouldn’t need to carve out a small safe space.
A) There will be equitable distribution of men and women in the office party to make the party feel “safe by sheer numbers”
B) The party revellers will look out for each other, and for themselves, gender agnostically, so everyone can enjoy the party, without some of us having to strategise defence plans.
Unfortunately, the world isn’t ideal. And, I keep carving out safe spaces so I don’t end up in an inadvertent situation, because the onus seems to be on me to avoid avoidable situations.
Is the onus really on me, the woman in the party, to tread carefully, be aware in the smoky haze, and retire early, just in case?
If not me, who is the onus on?
I don’t know. You tell me.
* The saga doesn’t end at the party itself - going home safe is as important as staying safe in the party. Do we battle the unknowns on the road alone or along with the knowns from the party who themselves are not in the best of senses? That’s a topic for a separate article by itself.
P. S. Views strictly personal. None of the events mentioned in this post refer to the organisation that I am currently associated with.
Issue #41: The spaces we occupy
I keep thinking about safe spaces. And how we sometimes end up pushing ourselves into gendered ghettos. It shouldn't be so. And the onus shouldn't be just on us. But how do we make it change, I don't know