The events emerging have left me unsettled. I’ve found myself talking with friends, revisiting conversations and interactions, and questioning how toxic masculinity maintains such a strong, persistent, and comfortable position in our society.
It has called into question who holds responsibility beyond those committing the harm. As a student, I wonder: have I, in any way, perpetuated this culture of violence against women?
And if so, what responsibility do we all bear?
The culture we live in, work in, study in, and joke in can quietly and steadily make these crimes against women seem like an unfortunate but unavoidable part of university life and life in general — and this is despite first, second, and third-wave feminism, despite countless books, songs, films, speeches, and lectures by men and women talking about the harm this causes.
When harms against our women are framed as drunken mistakes, we miss the opportunity to confront the societal pressures, blurred boundaries and warped attitudes that too often lead to these situations in the first place.
We hear it all the time: He’s a good guy, they were drunk, that was back in the day, he’s a promising musician, a future dentist, an All Black in the making.
The harmless jokes, the language of "mistake", and the excuse that these deliberate actions are merely out of character teach the next wave of students and high schoolers, those watching and learning, that violence is just part of our culture.
We need to model how to have honest conversations, and demonstrate how to recognise the signs and name what we see.
I have long believed that the culture of some sports contributes to these harms. Not because rugby, for example, causes violence, but because aggression, alcoholism and sexism have been allowed and encouraged to grow within it.
The post-game festivities that spill into town often end in fights in the Octagon or on the streets. Around the world, domestic violence rates spike following national team losses and sometimes even wins.
In May this year, riots broke out in Paris after Paris Saint-Germain’s victory over Inter Milan in the UEFA Champions League final, resulting in fatalities and widespread injuries.
What bothers me, as a Dunedin resident, is that our city’s sports clubs are often filled with high school students, the next generation of university students.
They are watching and learning from those older than them, and their responses to future situations are being shaped in real time. When they witness harm being done, what matters is how their role models respond.
Institutions like sports clubs have real potential to lead change in these areas. They have influence and access to young people, as well as the power to create and uphold policies and messaging that could make a difference.
Too often, though, I see them leaning more towards bravado and loyalty over accountability.
At Otago alone, I’ve seen many instances of casual sexism, including inappropriate comments, flat names, jokes, and moments where no-one speaks up.
The small moments often seem harmless, but they shape what is normal. We all have a chance to notice them, name them, and choose not to let them slide.
We have excellent support systems in place for victims, including mental health and wellbeing services, OUSA Student Support, and Te Whare Tāwharau Sexual Violence Support and Prevention Centre. I will also mention the mahi of those at Ōtepoti Communities Against Sexual Abuse (ŌCASA).
On campus, I have seen the relationships students have with tuakana, tutors, counsellors, and lecturers.
If something bad happens, there are people to help. One of the beautiful parts of the student experience at Otago is the connections you make with those around you.
However, it is also important to ask: what are we doing to prevent the harm from happening in the first place? Not just isolated actions, but also the interrogation of the structures from which these harms emanate.
What is it about our institutions, sports culture, and social norms that allows these harms to keep recurring?
Change starts with recognising the culture for what it is, recognising who benefits from things staying the same and cutting it off at the root where possible. If enough people push back, across enough spaces, change becomes possible.
It begins with discussing and naming it, which is what I am attempting to do here.
The brilliance of the Dunedin student experience should not be lost, and should not be taken from anyone. It is vibrant and supportive — but this should not come at the cost of safety or dignity, especially for women and our female students.
I don’t believe every boy who plays rugby is sexist, or that all jokes are violent.
However, I am aware that we are part of a culture that is being watched by those older than us and those younger than us.
Are we teaching those around us to be passive participants in a culture that normalises harm?
Or, how to speak up and help a stranger somewhere else down the line.
"Silence only protects the powerful." Suzie Miller, Prima Facie.
Kind regards,
Grace.
• Dunedin resident Grace Togneri is a fourth-year law student.
