On the evening of 3rd March 2021, Sarah Everard was walking home in South London.
Those would be her last steps.
On the 9th, Wayne Couzens, a Metropolitan police officer, was arrested on suspicion of Everard’s murder. On the 10th, her remains were found in a woodland near Kent. Couzens was charged with kidnapping and murder two days later.
She was just walking home. She could have been any of us.
Everard did ‘everything right’: She walked along the road full of busy traffic, she stayed visible in a public area with lots of people, she wore bright clothing, rang her boyfriend to inform him of her whereabouts, and asked a policeman to keep her safe. And even after this, her efforts were met with an untimely demise. She shouldn’t even have had to do everything ‘right’.
This victim-blaming mentality is what enables this behavior from men and puts women at risk even further. The focus should not be on protecting women—although that’s a vital part for now—but to teach men not to rape or assault. Everard should have been able to complete the simple task of walking home without fear. Is that too much to ask? In a world driven by the patriarchy and those who refuse to deny it, it may be a long time before we get justice.
The fact that her killer is a policeman is perhaps the most unsettling thing about this case. Policemen are meant to be the guardians of our city; they are meant to protect us from harm. Everard had asked Couzens to walk her home in fear of men attacking her, only for him to become the man she had been worried about. The one person she thought would protect her life took it instead. If the police, whose literal job is to protect the citizens, can’t shield us from harm, then who can? At this point, women almost have no choice. We can’t walk home, can’t hail a taxi, can’t use public transport, and now, even asking a policeman to protect us puts us at risk.
Everard is not the only woman to live this fate—every woman walking this earth fears for her life at the hands of men. Many other women I know, including myself, were taught from a very young age to take extra measures when walking home and be wary of other men. We were taught to protect ourselves. Even our fathers and brothers would warn us about other men because they know who the real threat is. But were men ever directly taught not to rape or assault others? Did their fathers or mothers ever sit them down and had a real conversation about it? As far as I’m concerned, every woman I know has had a discussion with their mothers about protecting themselves from other men, but men have been allowed to sweep their mistakes under the rugs from a young age thanks to mindsets like “boys will be boys”.
Everard’s tragic death opened up a myriad of narratives regarding sexual assault, the most notable being the hashtag #NotAllMen. This phrase was initially a comeback used by men—when a woman said that she had to fear all men to protect her safety, some men would respond with ‘it’s not all men’. There are several issues with saying this. We know it’s not all men, but it has been enough men (who commit assault) to make women fear them. I know many men in my life who have never touched anyone inappropriately and would never do so in their life—but the number of news stories and reports that we see is enough for us to be concerned.
We know it’s not all men, but we don’t know which men; and by the ‘not all men’ logic, Russian roulette would be a perfectly safe game to play, ticks would be perfectly safe to be around, but that’s not the case. Many ticks have Lyme disease, but not all of them do. However, we all know to stay away from ticks because we don’t know which ones have Lyme disease and which ones do not. So, for our safety, we tend to stay away from them in general. We understand that enough ticks carry the disease to put you at risk of being infected, just like we understand that enough men commit assault to put us at risk of being attacked. It’s enough to cage us in a constant state of fear.
In light of sexual assault, let’s not forget that numerous men have also been assaulted at the hands of other men. Compared to women, they are a lot less likely to speak out about their experience because of the stigma created around them: a product of the patriarchy. They are often victims of being gaslighted, dismissed, and even made fun of, e.g., fear of looking ‘weak,’ ‘you should have enjoyed it,’ ‘you should consider yourself lucky that a woman touched you.’ Sexual assault is never ‘lucky’ in any context. Men are their own enemies, and the movement should continue to include male victims.
In a situation like this, everyone needs to be involved, regardless of gender; we have to work together to collectively stop assault. We especially need to change the thinking of many young men who think it’s acceptable to commit these crimes, make a joke out of it, and ignore the situation at hand. ‘Jokes’ regarding this movement portray insensitivity. Your punchline is someone else’s trauma. Your punchline is someone else’s death.
It’s not all men, but it’s almost all women.