Beyond bystanders: Men driving change in the gender equality movement

Interview with Marcus Tawfik, Senior Manager, Practice & Development (Family & Domestic Violence Department, The Salvation Army Australia) by Lilly McKeich, National Family Violence Specialist at The Salvation Army Australia.

What does it mean to be a true ally in the gender equality movement? Can you talk about a time when you got it wrong as an ally, and what you learned from that experience?

I think for me, when I consider and reflect on what a true ally means, it's about showing up consistently rather than when it's convenient or comfortable. A key dedication toward this is to listen deeply to ensure supporting women's voices to be heard and challenge systems that do not support women.

I have always thought of myself as an ally, but I always am actively learning and changing to become a better one.

To be clear, I haven't always got it right. In my early days of allyship, something I always did was to ensure everyone, including women were heard, but I think there was only intention behind that action. When I started to decentre myself and prioritise the impact of women’s voices, I really started to make steps and strides forward in being an ally for the gender equality movement.

A key message here is that allyship is not a badge that people wear — it is a practice. It is something that myself and the community that calls themselves allies are continuing to reflect change through feedback, and have a genuine willingness to maybe, sit with discomfort. I think that is what true allyship means — practice.

How do you navigate the balance between using your voice and making space for others, especially women, in advocacy work?

Well, the facts are — men are heard differently, and we need to acknowledge that as men. I believe this comes with a responsibility that we, as men, need to understand. We need to be using our voice to create safer spaces, challenge other men that may be on a different part of their journey in allyship, and to redirect attention rather than holding the attention ourselves.

Something we do in the family and domestic violence space and in the social services space in general, is to receive consultation from people with lived experience. I think similar principles need to be applied through our allyship — whether its listening in our relationships, how we behave as men in public, or even how we co-design and consult alongside the women we work with.

Something that has significantly resonated with me is how I have learned to share power and not just offer support. 16 Days Of Activism is a time to reflect on what advocacy means and I believe it is not just about lending influence — it's about redistributing influence! That is one of the core responsibilities men hold through how our voices are heard differently.

What do you see as the most powerful things men can do to support the gender equality movement? How do you approach having difficult conversations with male peers around sexism, harmful behaviours or gendered violence?

We need to be encouraging men to do the internal work, by reflecting on their own biases and anything throughout their lives that may have conditioned or contributed to those biases.

However, as part of this internal work, we can't contribute to the gender drivers of family domestic violence, so ensuring that there is an importance of self-education rather than relying on women to do that labour and thinking for us men is vital here. There is a big difference between saying the right thing and doing the hard thing — and large shifts and progression in allyship often comes from doing the hard things.

I think when it comes to what we can do as men to support gender equality movement and potentially challenge some of the biases, is the notion of calling in rather than calling out. We need to be approaching family, friends and all the men in our networks with curiosity and respect, not shame. I have used a question like ‘have you thought about how that might come across?’ in a way that requires thinking with no shame.

Furthermore, when I am supporting allies continue their journey, I ask powerful questions like ‘who benefits when men stay silent?’ or ‘If your daughter, partner or mother was in the room, would you still say that?’

The sole focus here in action and engagement is growth, even if we don't see that growth instantly.

I continually demonstrate that vulnerability is strength, particularly when I'm engaging with men. I openly share mistakes I have made through my journey of allyship, to normalise learning the concept of growth as an ally. I have found that modelling the behaviour myself invites others to reflect on their allyship and change to do better.

If you could say one thing to men who want to help but feel unsure of where to start, what would it be? What’s the hardest, but most necessary, truth men need to face when it comes to their role in gender inequality? What does true solidarity with women and survivors look like to you?

Here is the truth — men benefit from the same systems that disadvantage women. Even if we don't mean to, we do. We need to remember that silence equals complicity, so having good intentions isn’t enough when it comes to our role in gender inequality. We have a much larger responsibility here.

It all starts with listening. We need to learn to sit with discomfort instead of rushing to have an exchange or fix or explain. One thing in my experience is that solidarity means risk. Yes, it does mean challenging the people that we may have had a relationship our whole lives, like a brother, a friend or leaders within our networks. It is uncomfortable and unpopular, but it is the right to do.

True solidarity with women and survivors looks like advocating for systems change even if that system benefits us as men. We need to always ensure that we centre the voices and the needs of those who are most impacted by gender-based violence.