Walking into a once-prominent punk house in the Ottawa community, I’m greeted by a bevy of nude paper women.
Their two-dimensional bodies plaster the walls, on display for everyone to ogle.
A series of women’s underpants crudely adorn another part of the room. They have wavy lines drawn from them, implying a strong smell.
A few feet away I see twenty-something-year-old men leer at vulnerable teenage girls who were new to the house.
I feel immediately aware of the fact that I am a woman in an environment that is not built for me.
This is my introduction to the Ottawa punk scene.
In 2014, international pop sensation Kesha sparked a global discussion about sexism in the music industry.
Her alleged emotional and sexual abuse has since been the subject of condemnation around the world, especially as a contract forces her to continue making music with the person she has accused of assault.
Megastars like Lady Gaga have reached out in solidarity with Kesha, decrying the sexism of the music industry.
While it’s easy to denounce the faraway giants of the industry for their unfair treatment of women, it can be a bit more painful to confront misogynist parallels that exist in our local scene.
Our local music scene is sexist.
While many would balk at this bold accusation, it gains traction when you look onstage.
There are many great female musicians in Ottawa’s music scene. Bands like Bonnie Doon, BB Cream, and the Yips all feature fierce female talent. Still, most of the people you see onstage are straight, white men. Women are far less visible. This issue is compounded when we look for women of colour and trans individuals.
When women do make up an entire band, their gender is often how promoters define them. All-girl bands can rarely escape the label, whereas the title all-male band is almost never imposed on the poster you see slapped on a telephone pole.
The sexism in our scene is so prevalent that an entire organization was created here in Ottawa to fight it.
Ottawa Rock Camp For Girls is a non-profit that strives to build up the confidence of young self-identified girls who want to learn an instrument. On their website, they state that the camp takes place in a non-judgemental environment.
If children can enjoy music in a non-judgmental space, why can’t the rest of us?
Instead, the environment that awaits women at shows is often hostile and unforgiving.
I’ve witnessed women fight to be believed when they were groped at shows.
I myself was once grabbed inappropriately at an event and, once he was made aware, the homeowner laughed it off.
Imogen Reid, singer for the local band The C.H.U.D.s, was groped while her band played onstage.
Despite the prevalence of this sexual harassment, some members of the local music scene joked on Facebook about making a band called Trigger Warning – a term used to warn victims of trauma of potentially upsetting content – where one person even said they’d play the “rape whistle.”
And we wonder why there are fewer women onstage.
When venues have nude, strictly female bodies plastered on their walls, the local music scene becomes a hostile environment for self-identified women.
When women are laughed at and ignored while being grabbed and groped, the local music scene becomes a hostile environment for self-identified women.
When people turn rape whistles into a joke, the local music scene becomes a hostile environment for self-identified women.
With each image, each joke, each time we’re ignored, it becomes a little bit easier to understand how even a famous female musician like Kesha could be treated so badly.
The music industry has a sexism problem and Ottawa is no exception.
Don’t take it personally, but make it a personal mission to take it seriously.