Mention the word Shankill and you automatically think of men. Marching men with sashes and bowler hats. Men working in the shipyard or engineering factories. Men in dark glasses and paramilitary uniforms. Men's opinions on nationalists, the Border, the IRA, the Twelfth and the Catholic Church were widely known. The views of their sisters, mothers and wives were rarely heard.

Across the peaceline things were different. Women's voices were raised on the Falls even if they remained background ones.

While there was a history of political involvement among nationalist women - Maud Gonne, Constance Markievicz, Hannah Sheehy Skeffington - loyalist women had no role models.

Three years into the peace process the situation has dramatically changed . The women of the Shankill are an increasingly vibrant, confident and assertive force. The greatest changes are taking place among young people.

Two years ago, a young women's project was set up. Its first meeting was attended by only two women but, despite the modest start, it has flourished. Various groups have been established for young women and young mothers - dozens of whom are now involved.

Debee Lundy (16) says that before the project started the Shankill had little to offer young women: "It was really boring. There was nothing to do but stand around street corners if your parents wouldn't give you the money for the cinema.

"I went to the youth club a few times but it was terrible. The wee lads took charge of everything. They laughed at you and put you down."

Over the past two years the girls have taken part in a wide range of activities, from African drumming, to aromatherapy. They've debated eating disorders, teenage pregnancy and domestic violence. They've been on various courses, talked to AIDS sufferers, attended healthy-cookery classes and contraception workshops.

"The young women have identified the areas they're interested in and we have explored them," says Tina McCrossan, project co-ordinator. "It's about opening up possibilities and giving them as much information as possible so they can make informed choices about their lives."

Tina is from Co Kildare: "The fact that I'm from the South has never been an issue. My experience of the Shankill is totally positive."

The young women complain that they are stereotyped by outsiders. "Everyone thinks that girls from the Shankill have guns hidden up their sleeves and are really bitter and hate Catholics," says Paula Totten (16).

If they are not viewed as paramilitary groupies then they're regarded as "lower-class", says Tina Wallace (19): "People automatically think we are `millies' - that we all dress cheaply and talk in broad Belfast accents."

The young women are ambitious - and sceptical about their relationships with men. Tina is a full-time worker in a women's centre; Debee has a job in a business centre on the Shankill; and Paula works in an open-learning centre.

"Before I became involved with the project, I had romantic ideas about getting married, wearing a beautiful dress and driving to church in a carriage pulled by six white horses. Now, I want to stay single," says Paula. "Even if I have kids, I wouldn't want the father around. I like my freedom too much."

They are determined not to repeat the mistakes of the previous generation. "Many of them got pregnant when they were very young and had to get married," says Tina Wallace. "I got pregnant when I was 16 and the father didn't want to know. I was really scared but now I'm glad I did it on my own. I have far more choices than if he was still around."

They all left school with qualifications - Paula with nine GCSEs, Debee with six. "These days, girls leave school with more qualifications than boys - they don't seem to be interested," says Paula.

Debee has a boyfriend who paints murals. But she says that most young men on the Shankill still don't respect women.

"They still think they're it, they act like they're really hard men," says Paula.

"It's still the case on the Shankill that the wee girls do the dishes and the hoovering and mind the kids," says Tina. "If you ask the boys to help, they just laugh and walk away."

Despite their complaints they all love the Shankill. "I wouldn't leave if my life depended on it," says Paula. "My family moved to England for four years and I couldn't wait to come home." Paula believes Protestant women have more freedom than Catholics: "We don't have a church interfering in our lives. Our ministers don't tell us how to behave like their priests do."

Still, even on the Shankill: "If a girl had an abortion she would be better not to tell anybody because most people would be against it," she says.

THEY are all pessimistic about the peace process. "I don't think it will work," says Paula. "Both sides want totally different things."

They are divided on whether paramilitary prisoners should be released but believe the fringe loyalist parties are far more in touch with the community than the mainstream unionist parties.

They have no desire to visit the Falls. "You don't go further than the peaceline unless you want your arms broken," says Paula. "We stay on our side and they stay on theirs. Meeting up isn't an issue."

"Anyway we know a lot of the young people from the Falls from rioting," says Debee. While on holiday in Bulgaria with friends recently she met a group of young men from Crossmaglen. "We invited them to visit us. They were terrified.

"They said they would need knives to go up the Shankill. They thought there'd be masked men patrolling the streets every night."

"Ach, sure that's only on a Saturday," jokes Tina.