Last Friday the Oxford Reclaim the Night march took place….(told from my perspective)
After various incidents I manage to get to the March start point at the Sheldonian theatre (slap bang in the middle of Oxford academic institutions) with my two young daughters, ex-boyfriends mother and her ten year old daughter. I see a few banners and secretly hope it’s going to be bigger than last year (about 40 women). It turns out there is over a hundred women there. I sift through the crowd and find some of the organising committee, namely the awesome Clare Cochrane (who campaigns on many issues) and the irrepressible (femacadem) Suzi stewarding, with baby in sling at the front. Suzi and I engage in banter which goes
Me: Look at me out and about of a Friday night, I’m a single mother what would the Daily Mail say?
Suzi (in big booming middle class voice): Yes , you should be at home , you may steal someone’s husband!
Some of the newbies stare not getting the joke.
Meanwhile , ex-boyfriends Mum starts to get bored but reiterates that she should be here because she was in a Women’s Refuge, my kids tire of standing up, someone passes a comment about me smoking a cigarette in front of the children ( I ain’t gonna hide it) and I get the disapproving vibe about bringing the children from others which makes me even more belligerent. Then the mood changes…
The always excellent Louise Livesey starts up the chants and gets the march under way and we march towards the High Street. The kids are on either side of me , the chanting starts whose streets?, our streets!. Women come to talk to me; a woman named Kate who organises the new Oxford branch of Fawcett; Hannah, a co-ordinator at OSARCC introducing me to other volunteers. I spy a little boy in front of me wearing a ‘this is what a feminist looks like’ t-shirt and blowing bubbles and I recognise his mum from the main Fawcett publicity. I notice people on the street; the cheers, the jeers and the people who look look at us as if we belong to another era. But mostly I see the people ahead of me, the chanting and chatting, the smiling and the banners flapping in the wind. We block the footpath as we walk down St Aldates, a council rubbish van beeps us again (for the third time), we stop taxis making their way down the small cobbled backlanes (we pull to the footpath to let them pass). We pass the lapdancing club chanting womens bodies should not be sold. We march down New Hall Inn Street chanting Whatever we wear, wherever we go , yes means yes, no means no.
My youngest gets knackered by this point so I have to perch her on my shoulders as we get to the busy junction, someone presses the crossing button (we have no police escort) half the contingent gets across whilst the other stays on the other side of the road. We wait and chant some more . We then make our way to the rally point at Ruskin college, a group of young men shout at us ‘we’re gonna chop you into pieces ‘ (apparently this happened on the march too but the stewards took care of it) I ignore them but ex-boyfriends mum chases them down (she knows their Mums).
I get into the familiar settings of Ruskin, sort the kids out with a drink and realise the actual scale of the march, I hardly know anyone here, but it makes me glad, new people on the march is always a good thing.I have a quick chat with random people, ex-boyfriends Mum takes the kids home and I slip out front for a cigarette.
I’m chatting with the Warden and the awesome Debbie when the two police show up, they address the warden first (of course, he is a bloke) then they talk to me.
Bloke plod:Good evening Miss, what’s going on here then? Do you have a licence?
Me: We don’t need one – you were informed and we have insurance.
Bloke plod: So, any more marching tonight?
Me: No, but thanks so much for your help
Warden: Its a rally and the college is insured
Bloke plod: So whats this all about?
Me: Its called Reclaim the Night , where Women march to be seen and heard at a time when society tells us we should be indoors because of all the nasty things that may happen to us …
Bloke plod: ohh…
Me: Which we wouldn’t have to do if your institution took women seriously.
Bloke plod: Well goodnight miss *jogs on*
I go in and relate the tale to the organisers and have a good laugh, chat to Suzi and then go home, sadly missing the rally speeches. Its only the second march I’ve been on, but this year was bigger and better all thanks to the women who organized and attended, love and thanks to the Oxford Collective.