Women's Abuse Stories - Abuse of Power

The woman I am today would have reacted with white knuckles and bared teeth. I would not have sat idle, silent and too shy/shocked/scared to speak up. I would have told him to go F*** himself. 

Unfortunately, “I would have” is futile. The reality is, I was young, impressionable, unrealized and 100% at the mercy of a man who I was deceived into trusting. We all were. We all are.

Power: the capacity or ability to direct or influence the behavior of others.

The Abuse of Power: when selfish desire takes priority over the hauora of others. It can be subtle, passive or obvious.

Those with positions of status are entrusted with this power. We rely on them to be honorable, honest and trustworthy. Yet, time and time again, women are taken advantage of by these people. So how do we go about ending a cycle that is damaging the hauora of vulnerable women within our community?

 

My own experience with abuse of power involved classes I attended a few years ago. The teacher, whom I first considered an uncle figure, eventually revealed his true motive. People who hold positions of respect and power often use flattery as a weapon (or means of seduction). My ego was fuelled with his praises of my talent and promise of a flourishing future. I soon realised that my talent wasn’t what he was interested in.

 

It hurts in a strange way when you realize your physicality is perceived as more enticing than your character. As a young woman, you start to question where your priorities should lie, with your body or with your spirit? The result was that I doubted my talent and regretted wasting so much time cultivating it. What’s worse, is that I was one of many. A young woman is a vulnerable, unmolded and inexperienced creature. Those responsible for the overseeing and assisting of young women, have a duty to do so with integrity and respect. The mere fact that I have to write about this, proves that our community is not safe from those with unrighteous intentions.

 

In a different vein, abuse of power can come from those actually paid to protect us. In the first week of this year a friend of mine was asked by two security guards to leave the New Lynn Transport Centre in West Auckland on the grounds that her attire was “breaking the law”. My friend, a young Pacific woman, was the subject of selective discrimination. She was wearing a cap, a sports bra-like-top (that showed absolutely no cleavage), high waisted undergarments that went up to her ribs, a long black dress shirt tied around her waist, men's size black basketball shorts, boots, and a large black bag.

 

This situation is deeply concerning because here we have a public space guarded by individuals who hold the power to banish whoever they see fit. In this case what they thought was appropiate, was to send a young woman dressed “indecently” (a portion of her stomach exposed) out of an area of safety, and onto the streets. She was treated as someone who was not worthy of protection.

The message this sends to our young women is that they will only be respected and protected if their clothing adheres to what is subjectively appropiate. Women should not have to be actively concerned with their appearance in order to feel safe. If our public spaces can’t house and protect our women, what are they good for? The only real crime was that the “protectors” of a designated safe space chose to do the opposite.

 

To get perspective from the generation above me, I spoke to a Samoan mother and grandmother, who shared some of her thoughts on abuse of power in a Pasifika context and setting, specifically within the family and church.

 

“I didn’t recognize a lot of abuse of power growing up, I just accepted it, I knew my place, I had to be respectful at all times. And there were blatant abuses of power growing up, even in church and family gatherings. But it was accepted, and there were people who were around that could have said something. I knew for my daughters that I didn’t want them to go through the same thing. I had to teach them to speak up and show them that they’re worthy.”

 

What really made an impression, was her stance on raising children. “I was a real fa’a Samoa mum with my first three children, and it took me some really honest reflection to see that this was not healthy. These are not my children, these are Gods children, and I’m accountable for how I treat them.”

 

In a Pasifika conext, it is important to acknowledge the blurry line between what is abuse of power, and what is a cultural or religious norm. Is the strict obligation to give money within the church an abuse of power? Is corporal punishment when discliping children abuse of power? How do we differentiate between abuse of power and say, “Fa’a Samoa”?

 

“It’s being honest enough to reflect and seeing what you have to change, and if you see that something’s not right then speak up. It’s hard for my generation because we have been conditioned to be respectful – fa’aaloalo, 'don’t rock the boat' ”

 

After exchanging with an elder , I came to the conclusion that a persons understanding of “abuse” and what that word actually means, is hugely determined by what era they belong to. My parents and grandparents generation (specifically those who lived in the Pacific Islands) had a vastly different perception of “abuse”. Whether it be in a church or family setting, the abuses of power experienced by them, was largely accepted out of respect to culture and religion. It wasn’t considered abuse at the time, but in retrospect while living in the 2017 Aotearoa, it would probably fall into that category.

 

Ultimately, we all have an active obligation to protect women in our society. If you recognise a situation where a woman is in need of support, give it. As an observer, you have a responsibility to use your voice. What have you remained quiet about? What would you allow? How would you define abuse of power?

 Written by Timēna Apa