This episode delves into nuanced gendered experiences within urban spaces, exploring concepts such as the control of disorder and women's interactions in the metropolis. Drawing on various scholarly works, we illustrate how urban life is intricately shaped by gender, fear, and complex social dynamics.
Relates to The Feminist Park Project: Provides a deeper understanding of the gendered nuances of urban life that the Feminist Park aims to address, informing design choices that actively mitigate feelings of disorder and enhance positive interactions for women and gender-diverse people.
Source for Podcast Episode:
Book/Paper: "WOMEN, GIRLS AND GENDER DIVERSE PEOPLE SAFETY IN PUBLIC SPACE. DESIGNING A CITY FOR ALL LONDONERS"
Author: Dr Mimi Sheller
*Transcipt was generated automatically, its accuracy may vary.
Welcome to the Feminist Park podcast.
I'm Kwame.
And I'm Leilani, it's great to be kicking off this journey with you all today.
Yeah, we're diving into work that's really closely tied to the vision behind the Feminist Park project, which was founded by Hussain Stuck.
That project's goal is pretty ambitious, isn't it?
Imagining these truly equitable public spaces, starting with the idea for an intersectional feminist park right here in Berlin.
Exactly.
And this podcast, well, it's kind of an extension of that.
We're going to be digging into the academic research that, you know, supports and informs that kind of vision.
We'll be taking these dense, sometimes quite academic papers and really pulling out the core and insights.
And looking at them through specific lenses.
Things like environmental justice, intersectionality, anti colonial thought, queer theory.
All the stuff that helps us think critically about space.
Have you ever found yourself navigating a public space, maybe a City Park, a busy street, or even a quiet square, and felt a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of unease?
Perhaps a flicker of caution, or the nagging thought that this place wasn't quite designed with your experience in mind.
Yeah, I think many people can relate to that feeling.
Today we're diving deep into that very feeling, exploring how the spaces we inhabit are fundamentally shaped, often invisibly, to include some and exclude others.
Right.
Our focus today is on how this shapes the lives of women, girls, and gender diverse people in our urban environments.
It's a reality many know intimately, and it speaks volumes about the unconscious biases baked into the very fabric of our cities.
It really does.
We're unpacking a truly powerful and groundbreaking source, the Women, Girls and Gender Diverse People Safety in Public Space handbook.
Now this isn't just some dry policy document from a local council.
It's a vital living guide produced for London, yet its insights resonate globally.
Absolutely.
The principles are very transferable.
It challenges us to look at our built environment with a far more critical and crucially and inclusive eye.
Our mission today is to move far beyond surface level safety discussions and truly understand how urban design can either reinforce deeply entrenched exclusion or, conversely, become an incredibly powerful tool for liberation.
That's a great way to put it.
Liberation, not just safety.
So let's unpack this What fundamental truths does this handbook reveal about our cities?
That's an excellent starting point because the handbook lays bare a foundational issue.
Our cities, as they stand, were largely not designed with women, girls and gender diverse people as central considerations.
Right, that's a huge statement to start with.
It is, as the Mayor's design advocate eloquently states in the forward.
I think this quote really sets the scene.
We need to adapt to it rather than have it reflect our needs.
As we move through it, we are often filled with fear rather than confidence.
Wow, adapt to it rather than have it reflect our needs.
That sums up so much.
Exactly.
And this isn't just a turn of phrase.
It immediately sets a backdrop of intense lived experience.
The handbook isn't shying away from the catalyst for this urgent discussion, citing the tragic murders of Biba Henry, Nicole Smallman, Sabina Nessa and Sarah Everard, among others in London's public spaces.
Terrible events.
Horrific events and the handbook makes it clear these, alongside countless other acts of gender based violence and harassment, aren't isolated incidents.
They represent a constant, terrifying undercurrent to how women, girls and gender diverse people experience the city.
A.
Constant undercurrent.
Yes, these tragedies, as the Handbook highlights, have galvanized an urgent response, finally placing our planning, design, and development processes under a very necessary, very uncomfortable, but ultimately transformative spotlight.
So it's saying these aren't just individual crimes.
They point to a systemic issue in how we design and manage spaces.
Precisely the core argument is crystal clear and profoundly important.
Traditional urban planning and design often implicitly reinforce exclusion and generate new inequalities, particularly for these groups.
The Handbook champions a truly inclusive approach, one that radically moves beyond a simple reactive crime reduction focus to proactively embedding gender inclusive principles throughout all stages of planning, development and design.
So it's not just about putting up more CCTV cameras after something happened.
Exactly.
It wisely acknowledges that gender itself is a spectrum and therefore discussions of safety must be direct, open and fluid, recognizing the distinct yet overlap serving experiences of women, girls and gender diverse people.
That's crucial, recognizing the diversity within those groups, too.
Absolutely.
The aim, as it spells out, is to shift the focus from merely surviving urban spaces to truly flourishing within them.
Surviving versus flourishing.
That's a key difference.
It really is.
And what's truly fascinating here, and perhaps a bit surprising for those accustomed to traditional planning, is that it's not just about what is missing from our cities.
It's about fundamentally reevaluating whose knowledge and expertise has historically been excluded from shaping them.
Right, whose voices haven't been at the table?
Exactly as Caroline Criado Perez powerfully argues in her work, when we exclude half of humanity from the production of knowledge, we lose out on potentially transformative insights.
That quote really hits home, doesn't it?
Losing transformative insights.
It does.
It suggests A fundamental gap in our collective understanding, a kind of civic blind spot if half the population's experience isn't informing design that our designs are inherently flawed from the outset.
Makes sense?
So this handbook then, isn't just a guide, it's a strategic call to action designed to inform those who design and deliver our public spaces about gender inclusion, empowering them to build it into every stage of their projects from the ground up.
Precisely.
It's about radically restructuring how we think about Urban Development, not just making incremental tweaks.
OK.
And this leads us directly into a much more nuanced understanding of safety itself.
You mentioned moving beyond simple crime reduction.
It sounds like the handbook reveals that the idea of safety is far more complex than just crime rates.
It really is.
It brilliantly introduces this concept of a spectrum of experiences when it comes to feeling safe in public spaces.
Can you tell us more about what that spectrum entails?
It's not just a binary safe or unsafe, is it?
Precisely.
It's absolutely not a binary, and that's a crucial distinction.
Doctor Claire Edwards in her work perfectly encapsulates this by stating there is no neat match between what crime statistics might say about the safety of an area and how people actually feel fear and safety in that area.
Right.
Think about that for a moment.
What the data shows versus what people feel that gap is huge.
It is the handbook unpacked this into 3 crucial layers that collectively build this pervasive sense of unsafety.
It starts with what might seem like minor inconveniences.
Inconveniences.
OK, Like what specifically?
Does that really count?
Town is unsafe.
Well, the handbook argues, yes, absolutely.
This isn't just a trivial annoyance, it's what some refer to as a microaggression, a daily low level exposure to physical and psychological harm that chips away at a person's sense of belonging.
OK, a microaggression in the built environment.
Give me an example.
Imagine consistently having to take a longer, less direct route home to avoid perceived dangerous shortcuts.
Maybe a poorly lit park or an underpass.
Yeah, OK, Lots of people do.
That or struggling to navigate public steps and narrow pathways with a buggy or a wheelchair because no ramps were provided.
Or discovering that public transport simply doesn't run frequently enough or connect conveniently to the places you need to go for your specific often multi stop journey.
Right, the transport frustration is real.
These subtle yet persistent challenges, as the World Bank pointed out, send a clear, if unspoken, message.
This public space is not for you.
These everyday introveniences are far from trivial.
They're significant safety issues that must be taken as seriously as more overt forms of gender based violence.
Because they come from the same place, that exclusion.
Exactly because they stem from a foundational exclusion in the initial design considerations, it's the cumulative weight of these small daily exclusions that begins to shape a deeper feeling.
So it's not just about what could happen, but the constant reinforcement of not quite fitting in just by how the space forces you to alter your behavior.
I can certainly relate to that feeling of taking a longer Rd. home.
It's a small decision, but it's loaded with meaning.
Exactly, and those small frustrations can quickly morph into a deeper sense of being I'll at ease.
I'll at ease.
OK.
So moving along the spectrum now, what does that feel like?
This is that pervasive feeling of wariness, of not being relaxed, of always being on guard.
The handbook notes that girls are socialized from a remarkably young age to implicitly fear public spaces.
Socialized to fear them.
Yeah, they don't necessarily need to have experience direct gender based violence to understand that merely by presenting as female in public they are often perceived as, and therefore made vulnerable to male aggression.
It's just absorbed from the culture around.
Them pretty much.
A snark GLA survey in London found that a staggering 74% of women worry about their safety.
Some are all of the time, and 68% worry specifically about harassment on public transport. 74%, that's huge.
It's enormous.
Further data from Mopac revealed that 69% of women are less likely to go out after dark.
This isn't always about direct, overt violence, but a constant underlying current of vulnerability that shapes daily decisions, limits personal freedom, and drains mental energy.
It's the constant internal monologue of risk assessment calculating all the time.
That's a perfect way to describe it.
That's a huge burden to carry every single day.
The mental energy spent on feeling ill at ease must be exhausting.
And really is.
And then, of course, there's the most extreme end of the spectrum, the terrifying reality of being directly endangered.
Indeed, being endangered refers to the direct threat or experience of violence itself.
This ranges from persistent microaggressions like unwanted staring and cat calling which can escalate.
Yeah, those minor things that often aren't minor at all.
Exactly to more overt aggressive acts such as groping, flashing, stalking and at its most extreme, violence like rape or abduction.
It's a grim reality.
A truly alarming statistic from the APPG for UN Women reveals that 71% of UK women have experienced some form of sexual harassment in public public, with this number rising sharply to 86% for young women aged 1824. 86% for 18 to 24 year olds.
That's almost universal.
It's.
Shockingly high.
These are not isolated incidents, but a pervasive threat that fundamentally limits access, enjoyment and freedom in public spaces.
It creates a chilling effect that dictates where people go, when they go and how they behave.
It's clear that this spectrum isn't just a theoretical construct.
It's a lived reality that defines the daily experience of so many.
But you touched on something incredibly important earlier.
Seeing these experiences are far from uniform.
Not at all.
The handbook really hammers home that safety is different for different people, as Doctor Mimi Schiller articulated.
Yeah.
This isn't just an academic concept, is it?
It's about how every layered identity, every different experience creates an entirely unique relationship with the city.
Absolutely.
How does this intersectional lens truly help us unpack these complexities?
That's exactly it.
When we apply an intersectional lens, a framework articulated by scholars like Kimberly Crenshaw, we begin to see that categories of identity like gender, race, class, disability, and sexual orientation don't exist in isolation.
They overlap.
They interact.
Exactly.
They intertwine to create distinct vulnerabilities and lived experiences.
Ignoring this means we're designing for a mythical average user and effectively excluding the needs of entire groups, pushing them further to the margins.
The default mail strikes again perhaps?
Often, yes.
Or just a very narrow concept of who uses a space.
It's about recognizing that a safe city for one person might be inherently hostile for another, precisely because of these intersecting identities.
OK, so let's explore this through a few of those lenses, starting with the foundational feminist gender perspective.
Makes sense where we start there.
From this view point, a critical concept is freedom from violence.
This isn't just about the absence of physical assault, but also about the immense psychological burden of safety work, a term coined by researchers like Kelly and Vera Gray.
Safety work OK, What does that entail?
This describes the routine, often invisible labor women perform simply to feel safe, For example, consistently taking longer routes after dark to avoid parks or underpasses that feel unsafe.
Which we mentioned earlier, yeah.
Meticulously choosing specific seats on public transport.
Torque, maybe near the driver or in a well lit area.
Using headphones and sunglasses to create a sense of invisibility, hoping to avoid unwanted attention.
Right, trying to blend in or seem unapproachable.
Or even gripping keys between their knuckles as a makeshift self-defense mechanism.
This daily vigilance, as the handbook notes, is an immense psychological burden, even when women may not feel actively I'll at ease, but perform these behaviors as part of their everyday routines to avoid becoming endangered.
Wow, it's almost like an invisible second job women are forced to perform just to exist in public spaces.
That's a really good way to think about it.
That's a staggering burden.
It makes me wonder about the broader societal costs beyond the individual psychological toll.
Are there any surprising economic or social costs that emerge from this constant state of vigilance?
Absolutely.
Think about the lost productivity, the reduced participation in nighttime economies or community events if women are constantly making these calculations, avoiding certain areas or limiting their activities.
They're not spending money, they're not engaging.
Exactly.
That's not just a personal loss of freedom.
It's a massive drain on civic life and economic potential.
Businesses lose customers.
Communities lose volunteers.
Public spaces become less vibrant.
It's an invisible tax on half the population that ripples through society.
Invisible tax that's powerful.
Another crucial aspect under this lens is usability.
Usability.
How does that connect to gender?
Well, traditional urban transport systems, for instance, were historically designed around what the Handbook calls the default male breadwinner.
OK, we touched on this, the 9 to 5 commuter.
Right.
This meant prioritizing radial peak hour commutes into city centers, a model that fit a particular male work pattern.
However, due to prevailing gender norms and caregiving responsibilities, women tend to make more local, multi stop, varied and encumbered journeys.
Encumbered journeys meaning carrying things or with children.
Exactly.
Often with children, groceries, push chairs, combining work with domestic and caregiving responsibilities throughout the day.
Right, much more complex trip chaining.
Precisely despite women being the majority of public transport users in London, according to TfL, the system often doesn't serve their unique travel patterns, leading to inconvenience, longer travel times and increased exposure.
In isolated spaces.
This can quickly tip into feeling ill at ease.
So the very structure of our public transport systems, often seen as neutral, actually disadvantages a huge segment of the population, simly because they don't fit this default male model.
It often does.
Yeah.
And it's not just about transport, is it?
Far from it.
The under provision of basic infrastructure like public toilets is another glaring example of how usability issues disproportionately affect women, creating a constant ilities feeling.
The public toilet desert A.
Classic Finding a clean, safe, accessible toilet shouldn't be a heroic quest.
Yet for many women, particularly those with children or medical needs, it is.
And for gender diverse people, the lack of accessible and safe toilets can escalate significantly, often leading to them feeling endangered as these spaces become sites of harassment or attack.
Yeah, that's a really critical point for trans and gender diverse folks.
Definitely.
This leads us to the Third Point, a sense of belonging.
Sense of belonging.
How does design create or destroy that?
This is about whether one's identity is truly welcomed and celebrated in a public space, rather than just tolerating one's presence.
When urban infrastructure consistently underserves marginalized identities, for example, a lack of access to affordable food, care facilities, or accessible toilets, it sends a consistent message that the space is not for you.
Right, back to that feeling of exclusion.
It creates a feeling of being inconvenienced or ilities.
Think also about the pervasive lack of visibility for diverse women in public art or place names.
This perpetuates a historical exclusion, constantly reminding them they aren't fully represented.
Like who gets statues?
Who gets streets named after?
Them exactly.
Conversely, initiatives that actively celebrate marginalized identities, such as public art installations or community events that reflected diversity of experiences, can foster a profound sense of ease, joy, and ownership, directly countering the endangered feeling by building collective power and visibility.
So it's about seeing yourself reflected in the space around you.
It's a huge part of it.
It's astounding how these seemingly small design choices accumulate into such a profound impact on freedom and well-being.
It's not just about physical safety, but psychological and emotional well-being too.
But what happens when we start to layer on other identities like sexual orientation and gender identity?
How does a queer theory perspective reveal even more nuanced forms of exclusion and threat in urban spaces?
That's a crucial next layer.
The handbook explicitly addresses this, stating that minority ethnic women, disabled women, and LGBTQIA plus people are often exposed to greater threat of violence and harassment due to racial able, transphobic and homophobic discrimination.
So it's not just general gender based violence, but violence specifically targeting these identities.
It's compounded.
Exactly.
It's compounded.
Transgender people, for instance, face unique forms of harassment, including transphobic hate crimes and invasive questions about their gender identity.
This makes them feel deeply ilities and endangered in spaces not designed with their needs in mind.
Which is most spaces, presumably.
Often, yes, and this is compounded by a severe lack of specialized support services, right.
A very practical and dangerous example of this systemic exclusion which we touched on is the lack of truly gender diverged accessible toilets.
For many transgender individuals, choosing a public restroom can be a deeply anxiety inducing and even dangerous decision.
It's a basic human need turned into a source of potential danger.
Exactly.
This isn't just an inconvenience, it can be a significant safety issue, forcing difficult choices that compromise their dignity and safety.
What's equally important, and the handbook brings this up, is that even well-intentioned interventions like colorful LGBTQIA plus crossings can unintentionally create accessibility issues for other groups.
Oh, right, like for visually impaired people.
Precisely like those with sight loss or dementia, this highlights the inherent complexity of conflicting safety needs.
A truly inclusive approach requires deep intersectional consideration to avoid simply shifting marginalization from one group to another.
Wow.
Yeah, that's a tricky balance.
The goal isn't just tolerance, but a genuine sense of belonging where diverse identities are celebrated without compromising the safety or usability for anyone.
Exactly.
It's a delicate balancing act that requires extensive community consultation.
That's a really important nuance about unintended consequences.
It truly underscores the need for genuine Co design and thinking.
Several.
Steps Ahead Moving on to the migrant racial justice perspective, how does this framework highlight the unique challenges faced by Black women and women of color in urban spaces?
This is where intersectionality is absolutely paramount.
As Crenshaw originally theorized, these identities can't be separated.
The handbook makes it explicitly clear that black women and women of color are often more at risk of victimization and exclusion than white women, and, crucially, that the sexism and harassment they experience is more likely to be racialized.
Racialized sexism.
So it's not just sexism, it's sexism plus racism.
Yes, this means their experiences of being inconvenienced, I'll at ease and endangered are not as gendered, but also carry the heavyweight of racial discrimination and prejudice.
Can you give an example of how that plays out differently?
Sure.
For example, a microaggression for a white woman might be cat calling, but for a black woman it could be racialized cat calling, maybe referencing stereotypes or even mistaken identity, leading to increased police scrutiny.
Right, being seen as inherently more suspicious.
That constant threat of being unfairly profiled or targeted adds a pervasive layer of feeling I'll at ease that others simply don't experience.
Furthermore, the systemic bias in the justice system directly impacts their lived experience of safety in public spaces.
How so?
The London Sexual Violence Needs Assessment found that criminal cases are more likely to be no crimes, meaning no further action will be taken if the accuser is BAME, Black, Asian and minority ethnic, has mental health problems or learning disabilities.
That's truly shocking.
So it's not just about what happens on the street, but how the entire system responds or fails to respond to these specific instances of harm.
Exactly this profound distrust of policing organizations, which are often perceived as characterized by cultures of misogyny and racism.
Which has been documented.
Yes, this means that even when direct violence occurs, it often goes unreported.
This leaves these communities feeling less protected and more endangered by the very systems meant to ensure safety.
Their freedom from violence is consistently undermined not just by individual perpetrators, but by systemic and institutional failures that deny them justice and equitable protection.
It's a double burden, feeling unsafe from potential attackers and unsafe from the systems meant to protect you.
It is a terrible double burden.
It sounds like it.
Let's consider the class socio economic perspective now.
How does economic reality intersect with gender to shape safety and access in our cities?
From a class and socioeconomic perspective, the handbook reveals significant and often overlooked disparities.
Women are disproportionately more likely to commute sustainably walking or using public transport, often due to economic reasons or because car access within a household is prioritized for a main household earner, typically male.
Right.
So they're more exposed to public spaces by necessity.
Exactly.
This means women often spend more time and potentially isolated public spaces such as bus stops late at night or poorly lit pedestrian routes, increasing their exposure to gender based insecurity, making them feel ill at ease or endangered more frequently.
And the transport system itself might not serve them well, as we discussed.
Right, as we discussed earlier, the transit system itself is often less usable for women due to their multi stop caregiving related journeys adding layers of inconvenience and vulnerability that are exacerbated by economic constraints.
OK.
What else falls under this lens?
Furthermore, the under provision of accessible and affordable urban resources like free clean public toilets, affordable food options or safe free public spaces for leisure and relaxation directly impacts the well-being and access for lower income women.
So if you can't afford to buy a coffee, just use a cafe's restroom or if the park feels unwelcoming.
Exactly.
This exclusion sends a consistent message that these spaces are not for them, leading to a diminished sense of belonging.
The chilling quote from Doctor Adonia Lugo, featured in the Untoken and Collective report, directly speaks to this.
We are what gets removed.
When spaces get safer for you.
We're either priced out or policed out.
Wow, we are what gets removed when spaces get safer for you.
That's incredibly stark.
It is.
It highlights how gentrification and safety initiatives that focus on removing marginalized groups, perhaps the unhoused or young people, can exacerbate class based exclusion.
It effectively makes certain urban spaces safer for some, but only by making them entirely inaccessible or overtly hostile to others.
It's a very uncomfortable truth about who benefits when a city cleans up.
A deeply uncomfortable truth.
That quote is incredibly powerful and heartbreaking.
It exposes the hidden costs of selective safety, where one group's perceived security comes at the direct expense of another's very presence.
Finally, how does the Ableism disability justice perspective shed light on how urban design creates barriers and risks for people with disabilities, and particularly for disabled women and gender diverse individuals?
The ableism, disability, justice perspective emphasizes how inaccessible urban spaces can lead to direct physical and psychological harm.
OK, beyond just inconvenience again.
Definitely think about the daily challenges navigating steps with a buggy or wheelchair, which can cause trips, falls, and immense physical strain.
This isn't just an inconvenience, it directly limits access to essential urban resources like healthcare appointments, exercise facilities and social activities that are vital for overall well-being.
So it's about full participation in city life being blocked.
Precisely these barriers create a constant feeling of being I'll at ease and in some cases truly endangered, especially for those with less mobility or who rely on assistance.
The handbook stresses that when a group is prevented from using a public space easily, it's a direct result of their needs not being included in the initial design considerations.
It's a design failure, plain and simple.
It is.
It makes exclusion a common foundation of unequal public space provision.
It's a failure of foresight and empathy in the design process.
For example, the lack of fully accessible public transport routes or step free access sends a message of fundamental exclusion, impacting not only physical mobility but also the psychological sense of belonging and dignity.
And it affects more than just people with permanent disabilities.
Absolutely.
The concept here is that truly inclusive design, by its very nature, benefits everyone, not just those with disabilities, because it creates more flexible, adaptable and welcoming environments for all users, including parents with buggies, older adults, or anyone temporarily injured.
It's about designing for the widest possible range of human experience from the start.
Universal design principles, essentially.
Exactly.
It's abundantly clear now that our traditional approaches to urban safety are deeply flawed.
They often address symptoms rather than root causes, and in doing so they ironically create new forms of exclusion.
So it seems like many of our current ideas about urban safety are actually part of the problem, not the solution.
It strikes me that the handbook doesn't just outline the problems, it really challenges some fundamental assumptions about how we traditionally approach safety and design.
Absolutely.
One critical concept the handbook presents is that there is no such thing as a safe city.
No such thing as a safe city.
That's provocative.
It is Safety, as we've explored, is deeply subjective and often conflicting.
For instance, A crowded High Street might feel wonderfully secure to one person due to the sheer presence of many people.
Safety in numbers, kind of.
Right, But that same crowded St. could simultaneously feel overwhelming and threatening to another who experiences anxiety in dense crowds or feels more exposed by proximity to strangers.
The needs of individuals are not only different, but often in direct conflict.
Like the example you gave earlier with the colorful crossings.
Precisely.
We saw this with the example of colorful LGBTQIA plus crossings, which, while well-intentioned, unintentionally create safety and accessibility issues for people with sight loss, dementia, and even some people with young children.
This highlights that declaring a city safe is not within the public space professionals gift.
Instead, designers must work with communities to Co create processes that actively disrupt exclusionary practices, embracing the messiness of multiple, sometimes competing needs.
Embracing the messiness.
I like that it's realistic.
Critically, traditional approaches like crime prevention through Environmental design or CP Ted.
CP Ted Yeah, I've heard of that.
Designing out crime.
Right, which focuses on minimizing criminal activity through design features like CCTV or moving benches, are often applied bluntly.
Bluntly, how so?
While CP Ted certainly has a role to play in specific contexts, this blunt application can lead to the removal of margin individuals like young people hanging out or the unhoused resting to make spaces feel safer for others.
Right, sanitizing the space for a certain demographic.
Exactly as The Untoken and Collective powerfully argues, this simply makes spaces safer for you by pricing out or policing out others.
That quote from Doctor Lugo again.
Furthermore, these approaches often reduce the usability and quality of spaces for all citizens, paradoxically leading to underuse and a higher likelihood of crime because deserted spaces are often less safe than vibrant ones.
So removing benches might make fewer undesirables hang around, but it also makes the space less usable for everyone and potentially less safe overall because fewer eyes on the street.
Precisely.
The handbook suggests that true safety comes from creating welcoming, active and genuinely inclusive spaces, not just policing them or emptying them out.
So relying solely on cameras and removing benches to make a space feel cleaner or safer can actually backfire in the long run and just shifts the problem elsewhere.
It often does.
It also sounds like placing all the responsibility for safety on to the police isn't effective either, given the sheer breadth of the issues we're discussing.
Exactly right.
The handbook makes a very strong assertion police and crime LED approaches are not enough.
As Sir Mark Rowley, the Commissioner of the Met Police, acknowledged, the scale of violence against women and girls VAWG is way beyond policing and the justice system.
That's a crucial admission from the top.
It is because much gender based violence in public spaces isn't actually illegal, such as persistent shouting or following someone.
And even when it is a crime, VAWG is vastly underreported, often seen as just the tip of the iceberg.
Why is it so underreported?
Well, it stems from a number of complex factors.
The normalization of St. harassment boys will be boys type attitudes, feelings of embarrassment or shame, and a widespread distrust of policing organizations themselves, which, as we mentioned, are often perceived to be characterized by cultures of misogyny and racism.
So people don't report because they don't think they'll be believed or treated fairly or that anything will even happen.
Exactly.
For example, a staggering 76% of girls who experience harassment and never report it to the police, and four in five transgender people who experience hate crime don't report it.
Those numbers are damning.
They really are.
This powerfully demonstrates that true safety requires more than just law enforcement.
It needs a fundamental cultural and systemic shift, focusing on fostering a deep sense of belonging and care rather than merely tracking crime statistics.
That really highlights how deep seated these issues are, far beyond what any single police force can address.
It implies a need for a much broader empowerment, not just for protection but for agency.
Absolutely, and this leads to another truly crucial insight Women, girls and gender diverse people need power to reshape the city rather than simply being protected.
Power to reshape, not just protection, OK?
Focusing solely on minimizing danger reinforces A helpless victim stereotype, which can lead to solutions like women only trained carriages, while these are often well-intentioned to provide a sense of security.
They're controversial there.
They are because they ultimately limit freedom and full, equitable participation in urban life, essentially privatizing safety for women rather than making all public spaces safe for everyone.
The handbook argues that this approach often positions women as powerless, rather than actively dismantling the social and physical structures that block them from full and equal participation.
So it sidesteps the real problem.
In many ways, yes.
It notes that black women, women of color, and transgender women in particular face heightened scrutiny and fear, often being victimized by the very archetype of the helpless female victim.
The handbook instead advocates for supporting active participation in Urban Development, aligning with the right to the city, a concept championed by thinkers like David Harvey.
The right to the city.
What does that mean in this context?
As others have put it, it's the right to change ourselves by changing the city.
It's about recognizing the liberating potential of cities and enabling all residents to be active, empowered participants in their Co creation.
Changing ourselves by changing the city.
I like that.
And to achieve this, it's unequivocal we need a more diverse sector.
Meaning the people doing the planning and designing.
Exactly.
Women and gender diverse people are severely underrepresented in urban planning and built environment professions, especially in decision making roles.
This fundamental lack of diversity means their experiences, their needs and their lived realities are systemically overlooked in the very processes that design our environments.
If the designers don't reflect the population, the designs won't either.
Precisely as Bickley, Lock and Taylor succinctly put it, the lack of diversity effects not only the way we design, but also who we designed for.
The solution involves challenging traditional notions of expertise, moving beyond the idea of planning as purely objective and technical, and actively engaging communities as Co producers in design, properly resourcing and respecting their invaluable local knowledge and insights.
Valuing lived experience as expertise?
Again, yes.
If we connect this to the bigger picture, the handbook emphasizes that our current cities are essentially patriarchy, written in stone, brick, glass and concrete.
A powerful image evoked by Jane Dark.
Wow, patriarchy written in stone.
That's quite an.
Image isn't it.
Dismantling this requires a complete shift in mindset and practice, not just minor adjustments or cosmetic fixes.
It calls for concerted action towards a more inclusive sector, challenging professional qualifications and genuinely Co designing with communities.
So this raises a huge question.
Given this deep understanding of historical exclusion and systemic bias, how can we truly shift from a city that implicitly or explicitly excludes to one that celebrates and empowers everyone who calls it home?
That is the central.
Challenge.
That's a truly powerful and frankly, A daunting challenge.
Patriarchy written in stone, brick, glass, and concrete.
That image really sticks with you.
But it also provides a clear mandate for change, showing us what needs to be unbuilt, both literally and figuratively.
So this brings us to a really exciting question.
What does this all mean for the vision of a truly inclusive space like the Feminist Park?
This handbook provides not just a critique of the status quo, but a crucial road map for how to intentionally design for liberation.
It's an invaluable resource, serving as both a robust theoretical grounding and an incredibly practical guide for such a project.
The Feminist Park directly informs its designer principles and goals by embodying the Handbook score message.
It moves beyond merely security to proactively fostering a deep sense of belonging, usability and freedom from violence for all women, girls and gender diverse people.
So the park aims to deliver on all those fronts we just discussed.
That's the goal.
It absolutely validates the necessity of such a park by detailing the pervasive spectrum of unsafety that currently exists in urban spaces, making the undeniable case that a dedicated, intentionally inclusive space is not just a nice to have, but a critical must have for urban florist and well-being.
It argues for its own existence based on this evidence.
Exactly.
The research within this handbook provides a robust theoretical and historical context for the feminist parks vision by grounding it in decades of feminist urban research.
It actively challenges the idea that cities are neutrally designed, instead highlighting the systemic exclusion and patriarchal norms embedded in our built environment that we've just discussed, giving the parks existence profound historical and social meaning.
OK, so it provides the why, but does it help with the how?
Yes, absolutely.
More practically, the handbook highlights specific, tangible challenges that the Feminist Park aims to overcome, while also providing concrete methods to do so through its incredibly useful Practical Actions section.
This section is wisely divided into four key phases of a project life cycle, offering a step by step blueprint for genuine inclusivity.
OK, brilliant.
Let's break those down because this is where the theory truly meets reality.
Tell us about the first phase project setup.
What does it mean to take the lead and allocate resources from the very beginning?
In the project setup phase, the Feminist Park must from the outset take the lead by creating a clear, ambitious and non negotiable vision for gender inclusion and safety.
This isn't an afterthought or a box ticking exercise.
It needs to be foundational, embedded in the project's DNA.
So right from day one, inclusion is job one.
Exactly this means establishing gender inclusive systems and processes, such as a dedicated gender inclusion board.
We can look to models like the Earl's Court Development Corporation inclusion channel which successfully included local people with a range of lived experiences to review designs and principles.
This board would regularly meet and include diverse community experts ensuring they are not just consulted but are Co decision makers agreeing on project aims and measures of success.
Co decision makers, not just advisors.
That's key.
It is.
It also means ensuring A genuinely gender diverse team with specialized gender expertise.
This involves undertaking an audit of the entire project team to identify and actively address imbalances at every level, from architects to landscapers to project managers.
That commitment to a diverse team and an inclusion board sounds vital, but you also mentioned allocate enough resource.
It sounds obvious, but so many projects claim to be inclusive without truly funding that commitment.
What does allocating enough resource actually look like for a project like the Feminist Park, and why is it so often the first thing to be skimped on?
It's the absolute bedrock, and you're right, it's tragically common for inclusion to be an unfunded mandate.
For the feminist park.
It means explicitly ring fencing, significant funds, and time for gender inclusion work.
This isn't an afterthought, it's a core line item in the budget.
Like actual money set aside specifically for this.
Yes, it means commissioning local community organizations to run activities, not just expecting them to volunteer their time and expertise for free.
And perhaps most importantly, it means paying participants for their invaluable input as expert advisors.
Paying participants?
That's radical in planning circles sometimes.
It shouldn't be, but it often is.
We've seen models like the Commission for Diversity in the Public Realm, which funded Untold Stories projects, explicitly compensating community groups for their insights.
This isn't a handout.
It's valuing lived experience as a form of specialized, essential expertise, just as you'd pay an architect or an engineer.
Right.
It respects their time and knowledge.
Exactly.
The reason it's often skimped on, sadly, is that inclusion is still often viewed as a nice to have rather than a foundational investment, despite all the evidence that it leads to better, more equitable and more successful projects.
Paying people for their lived experience.
That alone is a radical redefinition of expertise.
It pushes back against the traditional power dynamics we discussed earlier, where expertise is often held by a select few.
Precisely.
But what kind of bespoke spatial designs are we talking about here?
Can you give us a concrete example of how this dedicated resource might translate into a design feature we wouldn't see in a standard park?
Absolutely.
Take, for instance, the critical need for safe, accessible and inclusive public toilets, which we touched on earlier as a major usability and safety issue.
A standard park might have a single, often poorly.
Maintained male biased facility.
If it has one at all.
Right.
With dedicated resources, the feminist part could invest in multi stall all gender facilities that are meticulously designed for safety, cleanliness and usability.
This means addressing issues like privacy through thoughtful partitioning, excellent lighting throughout, and even incorporating baby changing stations in all designated areas, not just those traditionally labeled women's.
OK, so thoughtful design based on actual needs.
Or consider bespoke sensory gardens designed with specific neurodiverse needs in mind.
Perhaps a quieter zone with soft textures and specific plant sense, informed directly by paid input from disabled women and experts in sensory design.
These are features that emerge only when you genuinely listen and invest.
That makes so much sense.
So it's not just about what you build, but how you build it from the very first step.
Resources and intentionality are key.
What happens in the next phase when you're trying to deeply understand the community's diverse needs?
This is where listening truly comes into play beyond just surveys.
Exactly in the understanding phase, the parks development would thoroughly listen to to women, girls and gender diverse people.
This requires extensive qualitative research that goes far beyond just ticking survey boxes.
We're talking about immersive methods like women's safety audits and night walks.
Going out there, experiencing it first hand.
Yes, to intimately understand the challenges on site and along key routes leading to the park.
Think of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park Lighting Audit, which brilliantly used online mapping and night walks to understand real perceptions of safety after dark, directly informing lighting design.
It would also employ creative, empathetic methods like body mapping.
Body mapping?
What's that?
It involves workshops like those exemplified in places like New York City and Barcelona to grasp how sarity is felt and how gender violence is experienced in bodies, particularly by women, with marginalized identities giving form to often unspoken fears.
It gets beyond just verbal description.
Wow, that sounds incredibly powerful.
The project would also meticulously collect gender disaggregated data to identify underserved groups.
This means monitoring participant demographics and all engagement activities, much like the Kilburn Muse project did, to ensure engagement is truly representative and to then actively target further outreach with those not initially heard.
So tracking who you're actually talking to.
Critically, this phase also means actively striving to rebalance power across the project by making local women, girls and gender diverse people Co clients or researchers.
Co clients like they help hire the designers.
Yes, the Waterden Green project provides a powerful model here where local young women and teenage girls acted as Co clients for a new dedicated space.
They were trained and upskilled in the development process, selected a design team and set the principles for their own space.
That's amazing, giving them real power.
Similarly, the Flick Room project in Sweden gave girls agency through interactive theater and Co design workshops, allowing them to directly share their lived experiences and visions with architects.
Critically, all findings from these engagements must be thoroughly documented and shared to ensure continuity and accountability.
This is the knowledge doesn't get lost between phases or teams.
Exactly a lesson learned from the QEOP lighting audit, which made its findings public and use them to hold project teams accountable for implementing changes.
That's a significant shift, truly putting power in the hands of the community and valuing their lived experience as expertise.
It sounds like a much more organic process than simply designing for people.
It aims to be.
Then, once you have that deep understanding, how do you translate it into the actual making of the space?
How do you move from insights to tangible design?
The making phase is precisely where those rich insights become tangible, where ideas are forged into physical form.
The Feminist Park would develop and test designs and partnership through extensive Co design workshops.
More workshops?
OK, but how are these different?
This involves actively inviting participants to not just comment on plans, but to engage in physically building or activating spaces, even with temporary installations.
We see this in the Kidbrook Station Square project, where young girls from a local school Co designed a linear park, transforming an outdoor gym concept into a much more inclusive space with seating, chests and yoga areas because those were their needs.
So they changed the brief based on their actual interests.
Exactly.
The herb Barking program also used women LED coup design to test low cost interventions for safety in specific areas, quickly iterating on what worked.
It's about trying things out.
Testing and learning.
Beyond Co design, the park would get the design basics right by rigorously adhering to inclusive design legislation and actively designing for clear sight lines, which helps reduce anxiety about hidden corners.
Making sure people can see and be seen.
Right.
It would involve avoiding blind corners and secluded areas, implementing sensitive lighting schemes to ensure visibility without creating harsh glares, and strategically creating appropriate sheltered rest spaces with good natural surveillance.
Think about Copenhagen's Israel's Plaids Public Square, which uses playful features and varied seating to attract a wide variety of users and encourage passive surveillance throughout the day.
Eyes on the street, naturally.
That's the idea.
That's a truly holistic approach, considering everything from the macro level planning down to the micro level of an individual's personal journey and sense of identity within the space.
But you mentioned something about looking beyond the site boundary.
What does that mean in practice?
It's vital to look beyond the site boundary to ensure safe access and wayfinding to and through the park.
A park doesn't exist in a vacuum.
Its safety is intrinsically linked to the routes people take to get there.
Right.
If it's scary to get to the park, doesn't matter how safe the park itself is.
Precisely this echoes the Paddington Green Police Station project, which committed significant funds to improve off site routes like bus stops and underpasses, recognizing that safety perceptions extend far beyond the immediate site.
It's about creating a safe journey, not just a safe destination.
Thinking about the whole experience.
Furthermore, occupier strategies would be established early, Co locating facilities and promoting diverse 24 hour use.
Imagine a 24 hour cafe within or adjacent to the park, much like the Museum of London's plan for an alcohol free night time space, ensuring active ground floor use and a constant diverse presence of people.
Keeping the space alive at different times.
Finally and powerfully, the Feminist Park would boldly celebrate people's stories, using branding, public art, and naming conventions to honor women, girls, and gender diverse people.
We can draw inspiration from the Marsha P Johnson statue in NYC, the first statue of a transgender person in a New York City park, or Veronica Ryan's public sculpture in Hackney Central dedicated to the Windrush generation.
Making history visible.
Exactly this is about ensuring public spaces reflect and commemorate the diverse contributions to urban life, giving a sense of belonging and representation.
That's truly inspiring.
It speaks to a park that's not just a physical space, but a living testament to inclusive values.
But a park is in the static object, is it?
It needs to evolve and adapt over time.
Absolutely not.
It's a living space.
So how does the handbook guide the long term use and adaptation of a space like the Feminist Park, ensuring it remains truly reflective of its community?
You've hit on a critical point in the using phase.
The long term sustainability and responsiveness of the feminist park are paramount.
It must measure its impacts and adapt accordingly through ongoing post occupancy reviews that gather gender disaggregated data.
Post document reviews checking back in after it's built.
Yes, regularly this means conducting regular women's safety audits, night walks, comprehensive surveys and resident interviews, much like the Black Horse View Project did, where they invited women and gender diverse residents to tag areas with green or red dots to signify safe or unsafe perceptions on a map.
That's a great visual way to get feedback.
It is this continuous feedback loop ensures the park remains relevant, responsive and truly accountable to his users evolving needs not just for a few years, but for decades.
It's not.
Build it and forget it.
Definitely not.
It also needs to develop a robust safety management plan that goes beyond traditional policing.
This involves embracing Community Action plans and creating clear signage for support services, as promoted by initiatives like the Women's Night Safety Charter, which outlines pledges for organizations operating at night to support women's safety.
So businesses and groups around the park play role.
Yes, this plan would involve a joined up, 24 hour and seasonal local action plan devised collaboratively with Key Stay folders like local businesses, transport providers and community groups, ensuring a network of support and vigilance.
So it's about embedding safety within the community itself rather than solely relying on external forces.
That's a significant shift in responsibility empowerment.
Exactly and critically, the Feminist Park needs to create a continuing community programming and engagement strategy.
Keeping people involved long term.
Yes, this involves actively promoting diverse and active 24 hour use of the space, exploring partnerships, and commissioning local organizations to ensure vibrant, inclusive use and upkeep.
Examples include the Copper Gardens Community Planting Days, where residents were invited to get involved in the ongoing maintenance, fostering a sense of shared ownership and pride.
Getting your hands dirty.
Literally.
Or the Danzbana project in Sweden, which designs public spaces specifically for girls and young women and then programs them with dance classes and other activities, directly empowering them to shape and use the space as their own.
This active, ongoing engagement empowers the community to take ownership, fosters a sense of collective care, and ensures the space remains dynamic, inclusive, and truly reflective of its users.
It sounds like the park becomes a platform for Community Action.
That's a great way to see it.
Essentially, the Feminist Park represents a live application of these profound principles.
It seeks to create a space where, as Bellhooks beautifully put it, walking.
I will establish my presence as one who is claiming the earth, creating a sense of belonging, a culture of place.
Blaming the earth, creating a culture of place beautiful.
It's about designing for joy, empowerment, and genuine inclusion, rather than just the absence of fear.
This raises an important question for all of us.
How can we foster a continuous dialogue and active participation that ensures these spaces remain truly reflective of the diverse communities they aim to serve, even as those communities themselves evolve over time?
That's the ongoing challenge, isn't it?
Keeping that connection alive.
That's a powerful and inspiring vision.
We've journeyed through a profound understanding of how our cities are building.
Crucially for whom we've seen that the challenges are complex and deeply ingrained.
Patriarchy quite literally written in stone, but the solutions are actionable and rooted in the very lived experiences we too often overlook.
They are actionable.
Yes, it's about more than just physical structures.
It's about the social, emotional and political dimensions of space and the incredible power of intentional design to transform lives.
The handbook truly reminds us that cities have the chance to realign spaces and services to a wider set of values, including care, equity, justice, collectivity and sustainability.
That's a quote from Leslie Kern.
Care, Equity, justice.
These should be our guiding principles.
And the profound truth is, as Sarah Ahmed so eloquently states, you notice worlds when they are not built for you.
This isn't just about women, girls and gender diverse people.
It's about anyone who has ever felt like an outsider in an urban environment.
It's a universal feeling of otherness that this handbook and projects like the Feminist Park seek to dismantle.
That feeling of being an outsider.
Yeah, so for you, our listener, we invite you to take this new found awareness into your own daily life.
The next time you walk through a public space, be it a bustling St., quiet park or even a local building, perhaps pause and ask yourself.
Take a moment to look around differently.
Whose needs seem to have been explicitly or implicitly prioritized here?
Who's visibly present and flourishing, and who might feel excluded or even subtly?
Who feels comfortable?
Who looks hesitant?
What are the subtle cues?
A lack of seating, poor lighting, or confusing signage that signal whether you truly belong or whether you're simply adapting to a space not quite made for you.
Are you making those safety work adjustments without thinking?
Consider how you might apply an intersectional lens to your own local park or street.
What small changes, either in design or community engagement, could create a greater sense of belonging and liberation for everyone?
It starts with noticing.
For further exploration, we highly recommend diving into the Women, Girls and Gender Diverse People Safety in Public Space Handbook itself.
It's a detailed and practical guide that truly offers a blueprint for change.
It's packed with practical examples.
And for a broader, incredibly inspiring perspective on how our cities could be, Leslie Kearns brilliant book The Feminist City offers a compelling vision for how we might build a more just urban world.
Thank you for taking this deep dive with us.
This knowledge is a tool really, a tool for seeing your city differently and potentially for helping to change it.
It's been a really insightful deep dive.
I think this document provides such a vital framework, especially for projects like the Feminist Park Project that are trying to build something fundamentally different.
It shows just how interlinked urban design and social justice are.
It really does, but it also shows the scale of the challenge right?
It requires sustained effort, real commitment and a genuine willingness to shift power dynamics in how cities get made and managed.
Definitely see.
Think about how we ensure those voices, the ones that have been excluded, are actually heard and centered.
There's another quote from Sarah Ahmed in the Handbook that feels relevant here.
Come on, she says.
If you have to shout to be heard, you are heard as shouting.
That's powerful.
It makes you ponder, doesn't it?
How can the design of public space itself work differently?
How can it amplify the voices of those who've been historically silenced, ensuring their needs are met without them having to shout just to be noticed?
How can design itself listen?
That's a really provocative thought to end on.
A lot to think about.
Indeed, thanks for joining us for this deep dive.
*Transcipt was generated automatically, its accuracy may vary.