What to do if you get sexually harassed in a nightclub

“I’ve always been aware of the problem of sexual harassment in clubs, having experienced it myself,” says Chloe*, 26. “But I never really knew what to do. I didn’t realise that it should be reported to bouncers, even if it’s just a small incident. After educating myself I now know, but I think clubs don’t do enough to tell people that’s what you should do.”

It’s not the job of women and LGBTQ people to fight dancefloor harassment: it’s the job of everyone, from ordinary clubbers, through to venues, promoters, security, and talent. But, if you are being harassed in a club there are practical things you can do. I spoke to Ester van Kempen, from the Good Night Out campaign, which works with venues to prevent and tackle harassment on nights out, to find out more.

You’ll sometimes hear people dismiss club harassment as innocent flirting. Let’s be clear: loads of us go on nights out to pull, and that’s cool. But be respectful of each other. “Anyone should be able to make a move [on another person], but you can tell pretty quickly if someone is accepting of that behaviour”, van Kempen explains. “If someone’s innocently flirting, they’ll walk off a bit embarrassed if you say no. But if they’re a harasser, they’ll keep pushing and may get aggressive. That’s the difference.” She goes on, “What you need to realise is that often this isn’t about sexual attraction. It’s a power game. They believe they have a right to do this because you’re a woman, or LGBTQ.”

I’ve been in situations where someone’s making me feel uneasy, but they haven’t actually touched me. In those situations, it can be easy to feel like you’re overreacting. But if someone keeps staring at you and following you around, they’re still invading your personal space. I ask van Kempen what to do.

“You can definitely reach a point where someone’s staring too much at you,” she confirms. “It’s about what makes you feel uncomfortable.” What to do in that situation? “One approach would be to find the bouncer and say, ’This guy is making me feel uncomfortable. I don’t necessarily want you to kick him out, but can you keep an eye on him and see if he’s doing it to other women.’”

And if someone actually grabs you? “It’s against the law to sexually assault anyone verbally or physically,” she confirms — and that includes an arse squeeze. “If you can’t see security, find anyone who’s working at the venue and hope that person will be taken dealt with.”

Realistically, most of us aren’t out clubbing on green tea. But even if you’re high or you’re drunk, you can still report harassment to security. “It shouldn’t be an obstacle to you reporting,” van Kempen argues. “It’s not up to the club to play judge and jury. You should still go up and say what happened.” The most important thing? “Your priority is to stay safe. If you feel like a situation is escalating, speak to security and stay with your friends.”

As my Culture Box incident shows, telling security isn't an approach that's guaranteed to result in success. Many bouncers aren't trained in how to deal with sexual harassment, and may minimise or even deny it's going on. It’s important to be prepared in case things don’t go your way.

“I would say always take things up with venues first,” she answers. “If you feel like the situation wasn’t handled properly, reach out to management. Suggest they get in contact with the Good Night Out campaign and we can go and offer them training.”

If management is being unresponsive, van Kempen suggests calling the non-emergency police number and explaining what happened. “Confidently explain the situation to the police and say it’s not being dealt with.” This is especially worth doing if you’ve been the subject of racist, sexist or homophobic abuse: hate speech is a crime, and police do take it seriously. Police can request security footage from the club and trace the suspect if a crime has taken place. Even if there’s not enough evidence to convict, being contacted by police might scare potential creepers from doing it again.

Ultimately, throwing people out of bars is a temporary solution. What we really need to do is proactively shape a better, more inclusive clubbing environment for everyone, regardless of their race, gender identity or sexuality.

Huge progress has been made in recent years, thanks in large part to pioneering anti-harassment campaigners and more progressive venue owners. Fabric has been a leader in the field, introducing a bespoke anti-harassment policy two years ago. Andy Peyton from the Colombo Group, behind venues like XOYO, The Nest, and Phonox, talks me through their sexual harassment protocols. He tells me there’s a citywide campaign to tackle venue-based harassment in the works.

“Everyone needs to take responsibility and I think that a change for the better is occurring,” Peyton says. “It’s the owner's’ responsibility to train their staff in matters of harassment, how to handle sexual violence in the venue if it occurs, techniques and responses to trauma caused by harassment and how to deal with someone who is harassing.” More than that, “Instilling a set of core values into all the people you hire is key to building a culture of safety within your venue.”

Alongside signs in the venue encouraging people to speak up if they experience harassment, Peyton explains that they will eject and ban harassers and in some cases call the police. But venue owners can have a disincentive from contacting police: The more incidents reported in your club, the more likely it is that authorities do an Operation Lenor and put your license up for review.

If mainstream clubbing still doesn’t seem an option, there are nights where you're guaranteed zero bullshit and only great tunes. In the UK, pioneering female-led collectives such as Resis'dance, Meat Free, SIREN and UNITI are shaping a new clubbing culture that prioritise the voices and experience of women and LGBTQ people. In the US, trans and non-binary people and queer femmes party at Macri Park’s Sissy club night. GHE20G0TH1K is for queer and trans people of colour.

At some of these parties – like SIREN or Resis’dance – you'll even find dedicated safe spaces crews patrolling the venue to make sure everyone's comfortable and having a good time. It's a proactive response to the problem of harassment.

"One of Resis’dance’s main priorities is to create a safe space where trans, non-binary, people of colour, and women can feel comfortable and safe," Resis'dance explain. "We do this by creating a safer spaces crew who walk around our nights providing support to anybody that feels threatened, harassed, unsafe or uncomfortable." They go on, "We believe in smashing the club patriarchy, and want bodies to feel free to be themselves without the threat of the aggressive male gaze."

Everyone is entitled to go out and have a great time, regardless of their gender identity, sexual orientation or the way they look. Dancefloors are microcosms of our culture: they’re spaces where we come together and form new mini-communities. Allowing sexual harassment to continue unchecked devalues the entire clubbing experience for all of us, which sucks, because really we’re all just out for one thing: To have a fucking good time.

*Name has been changed

Sirin Kale is a Staff Writer at Broadly and a freelance dance music journalist. Follow her on Twitter

Dilraj Mann is a freelance illustrator. His website is here