D.V. - some humble thoughts from a man

As a man I want to offer a few thoughts on the epidemic of domestic violence in Australia that has got people marching in the streets. I offer these thoughts in deep humility, knowing that the most appropriate first response of men at this time is to shut up and listen, and acknowledge the lived experience of women who live in fear of men.

So my first thought is to acknowledge the sheer horror of it all: Acknowledging the righteous anger that THIS IS WRONG. THIS HAS TO STOP. NOW!

Thank you to everyone who marched, who posted about it, who spoke about it. Thank you, especially, to the courageous women, men and non-binary people who have spoken with vulnerability about their lived experience of DV. We need to hear your voices. As a man I need to hear the voices of women and NB people because your experience is so different to mine and I can only hope to begin to understand by listening.

Secondly – I acknowledge that this is not new. Sadly we have been here before. I remember a similar moment of national outrage when the Rosie Batty story came out a few years ago. It’s an old, old story and it’s not unique to Australia.

Thirdly – acknowledging that in the anger and outrage there is a focus on judgement and punishment: judgement of the perpetrators; judgement of the institutions and systems that failed the women who died; judgement of the politicians and other individuals who we believe didn’t do enough; judgement of men and the cultures of misogyny, male entitlement and toxic masculinity which contribute to violence against women.

Judgement and punishment have a place, but the example of the failed “War on Drugs” shows how limited this approach is. If we are to seriously change behaviours then we need to also have spaces for deep inquiry about the drivers of DV; safe spaces for potential perpetrators to gain self-understanding and healing. Shaming of men can actually be counter-productive in the quest for healing and behaviour change.

I remember being at a men’s gathering shortly after the Rosie Batty story was in the news. Around a camp fire, and in the safe container of agreements about confidentiality and listening-not-fixing, men spoke with courage and vulnerability about their own experiences and struggles as witnesses to DV, as victims and as perpetrators. This, I believe, is one of the most important things that we can do: - to create spaces where men can support each other to do better, to BE better men.

As a boy growing up in an Anglo-Saxon culture I learned that emotions of sadness, fear, loneliness, shame or anger were not acceptable and not safe to share. I also learned that showing any sign of weakness or neediness would not go well for me, and so whatever I was struggling with had to be kept to myself to carry alone. Like many other men in my culture, I was nervous around other men and felt pressure to project an image of strength and confidence that I didn’t always feel. This only changed for me after the crisis of my marriage ending set me on the path of therapy and engaging in men’s work – where I was amazed to find spaces where men openly expressed their feelings and supported each other in courageous raw authenticity.

I wish there was a simple solution to domestic violence, but it is complex and multi-layered. Inter-generational trauma plays a big part. Addictions to alcohol and drugs play a part, as does mental illness, poverty, lack of adequate family and social supports. While it’s tempting to blame it all on toxic masculinity (which also plays a part) that doesn’t offer an adequate solution. No boy is born hating women. Something happens to cause that – and sometimes it’s an encounter with a woman (mother, teacher, partner) who hates men. These wounds inflicted by men and women on each other go back generations. Let’s work towards healing rather than adding to the hatred.