Silence’s Defiant Echo

Kaitlyn Jacob

Hidden behind the fallacious words of equality and equity for all genders, behind all these progressive statements supported by the amendments in the constitution from the 1900s to support women in the workforce, lies the untouched disturbing reality, the stem to all gender inequality problems, an underlying ideology, that a man can possess control over a woman, her actions, her decisions, and her body. Unconsented choices, a stolen commodity, are made by the very men who look us in the eye, and through the writings of the Constitution, preach, “We are equal.” But we know that is a truly far-fetched fanatical statement.

I stand here, singlehandedly, with a revolting, despicable name in mind. A name that represents the type of men we have to face in our workforce. Men that we have to avoid. Men whom we have to set boundaries with when we are around them, like a parent to an immature child. Men like these are invaders. Invaders who forcibly take things away from women like you and me, leaving us stripped of our humanity, our autonomy and our safety.

I was robbed of my agency. Being the victim of such trauma rendered me powerless, vulnerable, and shattered the very essence of ambition that propelled me to this esteemed political role. It made me question my value, my worth. Whether I was merely a token gesture of employment, a hollow placeholder satisfying an inclusivity box that had to be ticked. If it happened to me within the walls of Parliament, it leaves me frightened about what lies ahead for the rest of the women across this nation.

Brian Langston, a political adviser, oh so he thought he would remain. A former colleague, who I believed understood my potential, understood my background as a well-educated woman seeking opportunities in this field of work, a colleague who I thought respected me. But much to my disappointment, one that should have been expected, I was the woman, the target, the object, whom he sought to pursue his gratification.

I’m always going to be your blonde bimbo girl in this fantasy world, aren’t I? Just another figurine in Parliament, a representative of the female gender but not for my diligence, hard work, or educational background. Here I am, standing in the heart of Canberra, but it feels more like a battlefield than the epicentre of political power. The battlefield lies in whether I should uphold my morality, potentially tarnishing my reputation or remain silent.

He, whose name shall forever be etched in infamy, violated me in the very place where laws are made to protect us. And yet, when I dared to speak out, to demand justice, I was met with disbelief, with denial, with attempts to silence me at every turn. My silence was met with silence.

And oh, the courtroom drama! The criminal trial, the civil defamation case – it was a rollercoaster of emotions, a test of my strength and resilience. I trusted these so-called ‘law enforcers’, hoping that they were supposed to support us, protect us, from those thieves in the night that steal what is not theirs to claim, from predators that have taken everything away from us, from me. But when the verdicts came in, when justice seemed within reach, they snatched it away with a hung jury, with aborted plans for retrial. I was burdened with the weight so many other women bear. I cannot seek revenge. I cannot sue anyone for defamation. My name can no longer be tainted. I’ve lost everything; my private life made public. I’m always just going to be the woman who got raped in Parliament. That label will shadow me for the rest of my life.

They thought they could dress me up, make me tight, mold me into their compliant little dolly. He thought he could kiss me here, touch me there, do whatever he pleased with no consequence. But he underestimated me, they underestimated me. They misjudged the power of a woman who refuses to be their plaything.

I refused to be silent. I refused to let them brush me aside like some inconsequential Barbie doll, a fantasy to be played with and discarded at whim. No, I will not be the blonde bimbo girl in their fantasy world. I am a survivor, a warrior, and a force to be reckoned with.

My courage, my determination, has sparked a firestorm for change. My actions and my words shone a spotlight on the systemic issues surrounding sexual assault and violence. They forced a national reckoning, a conversation long overdue.

So I stand here, not just as Blythe Harmon, but as a rallying cry for change. Though the battle may rage on as we navigate the road ahead, I am reminded that the fight is far from over. Yet, united, we possess the strength to shape a future where silence is no longer an option, where justice is not just a concept but a reality, and where our collective voices drown out the echoes of oppression. And together, we must build a future where no one has to suffer in silence, where no girl is treated like a disposable Barbie doll in a twisted fantasy.