A Mob Against Violence

Last Thursday night, Sarah Azzara left a crowd inside Bay Street Theatre in Sag Harbor feeling disdain for Southern Comfort.

And men who hit women.

Just minutes before telling her story, she had danced in a “flash-mob” fashion—taught by the Neo-Political Cowgirls, an East Hampton-based women’s dance theater troupe—alongside members of local nonprofits committed to empowering women and overcoming domestic violence. The dance commemorated an international movement called One Billion Rising For Justice, a global call that raises awareness about abuse against women.

And to prevent what happened to Ms. Azzara—and countless others like her.

“Travis and I were halfway into a bottle [of Southern Comfort] when he asked again about my previous sexual experiences,” recalled Ms. Azzara, a writing professor at Stony Brook University and a Neo-Political Cowgirl. “He demanded a complete and detailed list.”

Each name she gave elicited a fresh welt on her face, courtesy of her college boyfriend.

“He could give me a well-cited argument proving precisely why I sucked, with the speed of a superconductor,” she said. “I should thank him for a whack to the jaw. He was educating me. Improving me, even. I should be nicer to him.”

After countless trials with Travis, Ms. Azzara took a stranger’s advice. She fought back. Told her mother. Left him.

She refused to press charges. Two days later, she was back in his grasp.

“So, why do smart people put up with abuse?” Ms. Azzara asked. “The truth is, nobody opens with a fist. A steak dinner, a street-vended rose and an encore of cautious coitus is hardly ever expected to be followed by a sock to the maw. No, no. The abuser requires the kind of servitude that only comes from expert staging.”

One in four women will be raped or abused in her lifetime, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. That equates to approximately one billion women worldwide—the inspiration behind One Billion Rising For Justice’s name.

To date, participants from more than 207 countries have protested violence against women by performing the same song and dance rally in public places where women should feel entitled to gather safely—which is essentially everywhere. The movement has sponsored outings in embassies, courthouses, parks, schools and workplaces.

About one hour before the Bay Street flash mob performance, Neo-Political Cowgirls founder and director Kate Mueth instructed the women during rehearsal, “We’re thinking hopeful, guys.”

Each dancer lifted a knee and pushed her arms toward the floor, as if she were snapping a baseball bat in frustration.

“We’re breaking the chains, right?” Ms. Mueth commanded. “Think about a wave of power, or love, or hope.”

They continued dancing, as Ms. Mueth said, “There is this perception that only weak people have had violence happen to them, like it has to me, and probably to many in this room. This dance, the movement, may be the only opportunity for some of you to share your story. It’s a really deep request to participate in this.”

Later that night, admission to the flash mob, subsequent poetry readings and musical performances benefited The Retreat, a safe haven in East Hampton for both female and male victims of domestic abuse, as well as their children. Last year alone, The Retreat took in 117 local women and children, answered 2,960 domestic violence hotline calls, and reached out to 2,591 women who reported violence to police, reported Hope Kramer, director of philanthropy for the organization.

“It is such a good match between the One Billion Rising message, The Retreat, The Neo-Political Cowgirls and even Bay Street, who allows us to use their facility,” she said of the production. “Kate is really all about empowering women through her company, and it is all just a really fitting set of people coming together.”

Ms. Kramer also stressed that the show is about educating people on two key points: violence is a widespread issue often kept in the dark, and there is help for those who need it.

“What are you going to do to end violence?” Ms. Mueth asked her dancers. “Think about it. Now, when you rise up from your seats and join the mob, walking slowly, I want you whispering that answer to yourself.”

When asked why they were whispering, the director explained, “The whispering being so loud is meant to be like, ‘Holy shit, this can happen to me and my family.’ This is for those who are too shy, or are wallflowers, or people who fade into the background without speaking up. The whispers aren’t about those who are doing it, but those who aren’t.”

And the educating isn’t just for women. The show has impacted men, too, Ms. Mueth said. At the end of similar performances, they will approach her, overcome with guilt. While they have never gotten physically aggressive toward women, they say, other violent signs—such as jealousy and possessiveness—struck a chord.

“People just don’t know how to talk about certain emotions, like jealousy and anger,” Ms. Mueth said after the rehearsal. “We don’t grow up talking about it, and it never gets discussed. When you can’t handle a basic emotion that we all have, an emotion that is about you and not the person you are taking it out on, there is an issue.”

It is an issue that organizations around the world are striving to correct—through education, through music and, in this case, through flash mobs.