Reflections on ‘If I Were A Stat’

If I Were a Stat is an important piece that highlights both the voice of the data - and the silences within it. I was tired of seeing research where I couldn’t see myself or my community’s stories. Even when I took race away and looked only through the lens of “survivor,” I still couldn’t find us in the often thousands of numbers. Numbers can make me feel isolated, and accepting of things I wanted this piece to provide people with a direct connection.

I wanted to make it personal. I wanted us to think about people, not just statistics. I wanted to show comparisons in ways that don’t always stand out when everything is presented as data points. Don’t get me wrong data is absolutely necessary. But when that data doesn’t include a full range of stories, and continues to centre only the majority, it becomes frustrating and limiting.

Unless we truly understand what life looks like for all communities, we can never end domestic abuse for all victims and survivors.

Every time we’ve shared If I Were a Stat, the response has been loving, warm, and deeply affirming. That’s because there’s nothing else quite like it, it’s innovative, human-centered, and easy to connect with.

As we say in the video, “your silence is loud - we see you, sis.” If I were a stat is a salute to all those missing in our services but still surviving, it’s a hug to sisters who are alone or too scared to seek help it’s a energy boost and a nod to those in power to those who work in the sector to consider the needs of Black women and girls.

I believe it’s one of the best things we’ve ever done. It’s accessible, it’s powerful, and it’s adaptable - so much so that we’ve even seen young Black girls create their own versions to reflect their voices and needs. That’s exactly what it’s all about.

If I Were a Stat gives me and many girls and women like me the chance to be seen and heard in a world that typically bypasses our experience. Having the opportunity to speak out opens doors for others like me making it more comfortable for them to come forward, and share their views and experiences.

If I were a stat, would I have a safe space to go and seek help? Where would we go for safety and support if we feel targeted and unfairly judged by the police because of the colour of our skin?

We need support workers and practitioners that look like us, that have been in the same situation, to help us feel believed, listened to and understood.

Speaking to a professional who can relate to our situation and help us feel safe will make it easier for Black people to come forward without feeling unheard and like a burden.