Donna, left, in her London days.
It’s a usual weekday evening, and I’m returning home after a day at work. I turn the corner and, suddenly right in front of me, blocking the entrance to my apartment, there are around 15 male youths, drinking, smoking and acting aggressively. One of them throws something at me. It's an empty cigarette packet.
To say that I feel intimidated is an understatement. Will they let me enter my building? Am I safe? Will I be threatened, or worse? This isn't the first time this has happened.
My partner Paul is working from home, so I call him. He promptly grabs the baseball bat that rests just inside our front door and makes his presence known to them. The youths are not intimidated and show no signs of moving, so Paul asks them if they’d be happy if their mums or sisters felt scared about trying to enter their own home.
That seems to hit home, and they slowly move to let me enter my apartment, my home. I’m left feeling angry, upset and belittled.
Are you shocked to read this? Don’t worry, this was not in Skellefteå, but Shoreditch in east London, where we used to live.
Fast-forward 15 years to my life here in Norrland, and the contrast is stark. I’m aware that it’s a leap to compare Skellefteå (population of 75,000) to London (9 million), but northern Sweden suffers from less inequality than the UK, and consequently has a lower crime rate.
And Paul doesn't even own a baseball bat now.
The sense of community in Skellefteå is strong, and there are initiatives in place to help newcomers settle in and find their place in Skellefteå society.
One such initiative is ‘Women Welcome Skellefteå’ (find them on Facebook), a rapidly expanding group founded by Anna-Klara Granstrand, Emma Tellström and Felicia Selin.
The group was funded thanks to a government grant from Länsstyrelsen, with the goal to work towards social sustainability and gender equality. Women Welcome Skellefteå’s meeting place is Hubben, (The Hub) a building on Kanalgatan.
The building, fairly unremarkable from the outside, is nestled behind a car park in between Lidl and Sara. You may well have walked past it before and not even noticed it.
Women Welcome Skellefteå currently meet twice-weekly, on a Tuesday for lunch, and Tuesday evenings for yoga or pilates, plus a choir group and book club on varying days. I met the group on a Tuesday for lunch, and if I’m honest, wasn’t really sure what to expect.
My apprehensions soon faded after meeting Anna-Klara, Emma and Felicia, three incredibly warm, open women.
On the day I visited, we were about 20 women, of different backgrounds, ages and cultures - the mix was eclectic. A simple lunch of soup, bread, coffee and cake is offered (free of charge), and better still, it’s an environment where women can speak openly and honestly about their experiences and ideas for the future.
Women Welcome Skellefteå founders; left to right, Anna-Klara Granstrand, Felicia Selin and Emma Tellström, photographed at the group's meeting place Hubben.
During a chat with Anna-Klara, I asked her about Women Welcome Skellefteå. Wasn't Sweden a much more female-friendly country than most in Europe? Why the need for a women's group?
– The gender gap in the municipality’s population is increasing, so we thought that anything that could both support and strengthen the everyday life for women who already live here, and the connection and integration between women who move in, would be of benefit to the women for the society as a whole.
Some of the women who attend are working here, but there are also those who are here because their husbands are working with Skellefteå companies.
– It can be difficult for them to connect with a local community if they don't have a place of work, says Anna-Klara.
– By creating this network for women we hope to strengthen the courage of women in Skellefteå to step forward and co-create the future of our community. Women Welcome Skellefteå is an initiative to gather resources, bounce around ideas and learn from each other's experiences, says Anna Klara.
It's a group to talk with like-minded women without fear of judgement.
A place to dare to talk about your dreams. A place to feel safe.
This is a column and the views are the author's own.