Masks and vaccines are surely needed, but so is a comprehensive approach to fighting harassment
By: Scott Martin
Jeff Rosenstock plays at the Danforth Music Hall on Nov. 20, 2021 (Courtesy of Amanda Fotes)
On Nov. 20, for the first time in a year and a half, I lined up outside a concert venue. Between a mixture of nervousness and excitement, I showed my ID, proof of vaccination and took my first steps into the Danforth Music Hall. After a trip to the merch table, the bathroom and the bar, Jeff Rosenstock walked out and kicked off the show. When the final notes of “Ohio Tpke” faded, he asked the crowd if this was the first show they'd seen since March 2020. The crowd roared and Jeff smiled. We did it. We made it.
Well, not entirely. COVID-19 cases are rising across Ontario yet again, and even during the concert, I noticed masks were being worn in some spots while being taken off in others. The lapses were predictable, of course; people were drinking, or already drunk. You can understand why people would want to let loose, but don’t we still want to be safe?
As shows return, we need to come out of our 18-month hiatus with a mission to make shows safer for all. I don’t just mean vaccinations, masks and appropriate social distancing, but also watching out for fellow concertgoers and most importantly, combating harassment.
In 2017, a survey by the Montreal Women’s Council found that an astonishing 56 per cent of women at outdoor festivals reported experiencing sexual harassment in some form or another, and there’s no reason to believe the numbers are different at indoor venues. This behaviour may come as a shock to men reading this, but if you’re a woman that’s attended shows or know women who do, you’re probably well-aware of the issue.
However, the good news is that venues and fans can come together to protect concertgoers. Shawna Potter is the vocalist of the punk band War On Women, a feminist activist and author of “Making Spaces Safer: A Guide to Giving Harassment the Boot Wherever You Work, Play, and Gather.” In her book, she outlines tips to minimize harassment at shows.
Potter stresses that venues should post signs, make policies clear, and have a team of volunteers headed by a safe space expert to create avenues for people to take action. Venues should also take the mic and make everyone aware of who to talk to if you have an issue, so that people know exactly where to turn.
The first step, if you feel safe enough to do so, is to tell someone about what’s happening to you, which can be made easier by venues and attendees making it clear there are ways to help if harassment happens. Even if an expert is out of sight or reach, whoever’s nearby should be told. That means if you’re at a show and someone approaches you, Potter says the first step is to call out the behaviour for what it is.
“The most important thing is to call it out and challenge it every time it happens and be prepared for when it does,” says Potter. “What are you going to do about it when it happens?”
But to be clear, being unable to report does not mean you are at fault. Venues and bystanders should do their best to ensure an environment where you should feel comfortable telling someone about what’s happening. If you don’t feel safe enough to do so, that means the space isn’t as safe as it needs to be.
This also means we as bystanders can be proactive in shutting down harassment before it goes too far. Potter stresses that most of the time, simply intervening and telling someone to cut it out is enough to prevent it from going further. They may claim it was a joke, and that you’re overreacting, but stand firm and reiterate that those comments are unwelcome. If someone is drunk, or escalating the situation, get whoever is targeted to a safe area, and grab some other people to stand together.
Combining a clear policy against harassment and joining the community works best, and as Potter says, “We’re going to engage everyone in the room — which again is easier when you have it on the fucking wall that no racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic bullshit is allowed.”
These are just the first steps and there are other resources we can use to better educate ourselves. Hollaback, a global initiative to end harassment, has a free guide including “the five Ds of bystander intervention” on their website. You can also help by looking into The Dandelion Initiative, an organization closer to home that aims “to disseminate survivor-centred gender-based violence education, training, and policy development to multi-sectors and communities across Turtle Island.” Signing up for their newsletter to learn how to combat this violence in our daily lives is a simple action that can help tremendously.
Pushing venues to adopt these policies or to have workshops for employees is another huge step to make concerts a safer space.
Of course, when you have a discussion about sexual harassment, there’s an elephant in the room. I’ve used gender-neutral pronouns up until now because these rules should apply to anyone who’s made to feel unsafe at concerts, but studies show that men are largely the perpetrators of harassment. This is not to claim that men are not victims of sexual violence, but this does mean we have more of a responsibility to push back against men who do commit these terrible acts. Whether they make degrading comments, obscene proposals or touch someone without consent, the duty to intervene applies more to those of us who can push back without exposing ourselves to more harassment.
As the night progressed, I noted the irony of watching Jeff scream lyrics about feeling depressed and alone, surrounded by a community of people who have felt the same. On his live album, Jeff asks people to gather folks and push harassers out, echoing the methods Potter and Hollaback recommend.
He asks the audience to scream as loud as they can and then, after the shouts die down, he wraps up the point; “Person who does that shit, all those screaming people are going to drag your ass out of this fucking club, so don’t pull that shit.”
Whether COVID-19 forces another shutdown or not, what we should take from this horrific experience is that nothing gets better or safer unless we unite as a community. Together we have the power to create safer scenes and ensure everybody has a good time. We just need to remember that we’re not alone.