Toilets, segregation, jumping the queue, and the most powerful people in publishing

Platform 9 and 3 quarters is a Harry Potter related tourist attraction at King’s Cross train station, in London. It attracts thousands of visitors each day, so much so that a theme park style queuing system has been put in place to accommodate the large number of people who want to take a picture by the famous wizarding landmark.

On Saturday, I travelled through King’s Cross on route to the second annual conference of the Black Writers Guild. Upon arriving at the station, I decided to make my way to the toilets, on the first floor. They were closed for maintenance, so I ventured downstairs to the larger toilets on the ground floor.

The toilets are just past the famous platform and 9 and 3 quarters spot I described earlier. You can imagine my surprise when I found myself facing a crowd of people queuing alongside the Harry Potter queue. Then I realised it was a queue for the toilets. I peered ahead. Then I realised it was a queue for the women’s toilets, specifically.

At this point I should remind you that I am what is commonly referred to as a ‘man’. This means that I am allowed to enter toilet spaces designated for men, with a little diagram of a human with two legs, spread shoulder width apart, rather than a diagram of a human with their legs fused together under an inverted triangle designed to resemble a dress or skirt. All of the men who walked into the Men’s toilets had two legs spread shoulder width apart. Not all of the women waiting to enter the Women’s toilet had a their legs fused together underneath an inverted triangle designed to resemble a dress or skirt.

It was a shocking scene. I couldn’t help but look up and down the Women’s toilet queue as I walked breezily into the Men’s. Here was sexism, up close and personal, with the very design of King’s Cross station leaning into male privilege while openly and blatantly discriminating against women and girls. I couldn’t believe that these passengers were having to wait what could well have been upwards of half an hour to be afforded the basic human dignity of being able to go to the toilet. I was tempted to say something on the spot, to find someone in charge and tell them to let the women into the Men’s. But I’m hopelessly British, so I wrote a tweet about it instead: