Silence is Violence: I’m a Survivor Who Wrote a Book
I am a survivor who wrote the book, I’m the girl who was raped. I know that silence is what we are most comfortable with when it comes to gender-based violence. But silence also allows stigma to fester, reinforces dangerous myths and allows perpetrators to comfortably go about their business. This is why, as Content Designers at Praekelt.org, the work we do telling stories and facing these myths is so important.
When I was writing my story down I didn’t realise I was writing a book. I thought I was journalling my thoughts and feelings, something I found deeply cathartic. It was only once I fully realised how many women do not have the middle-class support I had after being raped that I decided to make my personal healing process public.
Publishing my book wasn’t a choice, it was necessary.
As the saying goes “ignoring something doesn’t make it go away”, and it certainly applies when we talk about the stories of survivors of gender based violence.
What Happens When We Share Survivors’ Stories
Privacy and secrecy are dangerous. It keeps us trapped and unable to change the status quo. It keeps us focused on what victims did to deserve the violence instead of turning the microscope on why society is allowing this to continue happening.
When a survivor shares their story we break down cultural barriers of silence. Our societies still hold stigmas around gender-based violence (ie. “ruined goods”). When we confront these stereotypes and embrace the label of survivor, we are saying that these myths won’t win.
By challenging these lies we create space for a new truth. By claiming a title that no one wants, we make it okay for others to come forward and for the reality of the problem to be faced.
While I often feel uncomfortable sharing my story (it’s inappropriate to talk about rape at work), I’m committed to doing it. Why? Because of the people who reach out to me in turn to tell their own stories. The people — men and women — who have been told that they are the problem finally have a space to confront what happened to them without shame.
I’m lucky in that my friends and family were very supportive. I never felt like I had to censor myself in order to write my story. Once I finished writing, I sent my story to just about every publishing house in South Africa. And it got rejected by just about every publishing house in South Africa. Finally, Modjaji books took a chance on me and I was lucky enough to work with some of the best in the business to tell my story.
The book I submitted and the book that was published are two very different books. “Showing” versus “telling” is an essential part of making a story engaging and a lesson I learned as a first-time author. For example, you don’t say “I feel anxious”, you write “my hands were shaky and my heart skipped several beats”. “Killing your darlings” is also an important part of the editing process. Just because you think your words are beautiful, does not mean they add value to the story. It’s never easy to have such personal stories being worked on by an editor, but the empathy the team at Modjaji expressed made me feel supported every step of the way.
What Telling Stories Means for Our Users
At Praekelt stories are central to many of the projects we work on, including TuneMe and Springster. On TuneMe you can read personal stories like this one about a girl who spoke up 10 years after being raped by her uncle. Speaking openly about sexual violence and the steps to take afterwards is important and “Reclaiming your life… after being hurt” on Springster is a powerful example.
Stories about uncomfortable topics create safe spaces for the marginalised to come forward. It sends a message to survivors that they are not alone and educates them to challenge stigmas. This, in turn, creates a breeding ground for change. I found that telling my story not only allowed other survivors to come forward, but it also forced people to engage with a topic that they never had to think about much before. Some of the most touching moments since publishing have come from men who have told me how my book changed the way they think about sexual assault. So the changes might be slow, but when you look carefully, they are there.
How Stories Can Help Us Heal
I had to relive what happened to me over and over again during the writing and editing process. It was difficult. It was heartbreaking. It was powerful. Throughout it all I reminded myself that healing is circular, not linear. Some days are bad, some days are good and there’s no way to predict it. Most importantly, there’s no time limit on healing.
Every time I tell my story I look the stigma of being a survivor in the face and tell it that it has no power over me. There is joy in making the private public and there are few things more important than making the personal political.
Written by Michelle Hattingh, Content Designer at Praekelt.org. (Michelle@praekelt.org)
