Should women learn self-defence?

Ihit him in the head but he didn’t budge.

‘‘Go on, hit harder,’’ he said.

I don’t normally spend my Tuesday evenings hitting men. But a self-defence class offered at work made me confront my ability to inflict harm, which was exhilarating and scary in equal measure.

When the course was offered to the ladies of the newsroom, I wasn’t sure I was on board. Why was it only offered to women? Reporters, male and female, can end up in tricky situations.

Besides, self-defense classes often reinforce the ‘‘stranger danger’’ myth, when in fact most victims are assaulted by someone they know.

Ideas behind self-defense can also turn into victim-blaming. Survivors are often asked why they went out alone late at night, why they drank too much, and why they did not try to defend themselves better.

I got in touch with the instructor to ask about all this. He said male-on-male violence is usually driven by ego, while women are often targeted by people wanting to take something from them.

This means we focus on not being a target and changing how we would resist attack.

He said the class was not about blaming victims, rather about giving us tools we can choose to use or not.

Fair enough, I thought. Besides, I had felt threatened in my job on occasion so I signed up.

The first couple of classes were about being alert and assertive.

From a young age, women are told to be nice, polite, smile and not make a scene. Whether it is intended or not, we are conditioned against defending ourselves.

We talked about setting boundaries: learning to say clearly what we want and don’t want, in any context.

I am a reasonably assertive person and have no problem saying no. But still, if someone comes too close to me at a bar or makes an inappropriate move, I usually try to make a polite exit without making a scene.

Being reminded that it’s OK to say ‘‘no’’ loudly was valuable.

And there is evidence it works. A 2013 study from the University of Oregon compared 117 students enrolled in an empowermentbased self-defense course with 169 students who didn’t take the course. A year after the class, of those who hadn’t taken the course, three reported being raped and 8 per cent said they’d experience a rape attempt. None of those who’d had training reported a rape and 2.7 per cent had encountered attempted rape.

At the next lesson in the dojo, things got real. We learned how a simple shift in posture would make us harder to be pushed around and we hit some poor male volunteers on the forehead (if attacked, it would be on the nose). It felt terrible and uncomfortable but also empowering. I thought maybe my body would remember this one day, and wouldn’t freeze up if attacked.

I got home feeling pumped and showed my husband the defensive posture: tilted pelvis, knees bent, hands raised. I wanted him to try pushing me around to show him how strong I was. But when he saw me crouched like a hidden tiger, he burst out laughing. I wanted to punch him on the forehead but he’s too tall.

He claimed it was only funny in contrast with my usual relaxed demeanour. But he was impressed at the strength I gained with a few postural tweaks.

I am enjoying the classes so far, but I wish we lived in a world where they were not necessary.

What I would love to see is men and young boys taking classes where they learn about respecting boundaries, consent and generally not raping and assaulting women.

I know what the comments will say: Not All Men! Etc.

At the same time, in the wake of the Me Too movement, many men have expressed fears that flirting and dating have become minefields.

Such classes could be useful and in fact they already exist. In the US, the Healthy Masculinity Training Institute has courses to ‘‘build a new generation of male leaders who model non-violent, emotionally healthy masculinity’’.

We are a long way from seeing men queuing to attend these so I’m glad I’m learning to defend myself. I just hope any potential attackers don’t start laughing when I pull out the moves – although it could be a good chance to escape if they did.

Cecile Meier’s column will appear fortnightly, alternating with Beck Eleven’s.