When I lived in Old Hull (Quebec, Canada), I experienced a lot of street harassment. In the summer, it was a nightly occurrence. It became normal to me. I realize that there is prostitution there. The only time it bothered me was when I was threatened or followed. This was one of those times —
I worked 3 to 11 p.m. in the east end of Ottawa and took the bus home. I would get back to Hull around midnight every night. I would have to walk from Promenade du Portage and Eddy Street to Charlevoix. It was no surprise that when I began my walk home that some guy shouted, ‘Hey, you working?” I ignored it and continued working. I heard the same voice. “Hey bitch, you working?” I turned my head and saw four men in a car. I yelled, “NO” and walked faster.
They drove off. I thought they left. They just circled the block and approached me again. “Wanna party with us?” I yelled “NO.” They drove away again. I hope that they were going to leave me alone. I felt frightened and unsure what I would do if they stopped the car. How could I defend myself against four men?
They came back. This is the basic conversation that followed, “Why don’t you wanna party with us?”
“I don’t know you.”
“So what we just wanna have some fun?”
“I’m not going to get into a car with four men that I don’t know.”
This is when they stopped the car. One of the opened the back passenger door and yelled, “Get in the car b***h.” I was terrified. I froze. I screamed, “NO!” They left again. I walked even faster. Then I started to run. I thought they finally left. I turned left onto Charlevoix. That’s when the car reappeared. They stopped again. Again there was an argument.
“What’s your problem? Just get in the car!” Again I say that I am not getting in the car and would just like to be left alone.
“Well we aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a loud mouth b***h.”
I said “You’re right I’m a loud mouth b***h.” I then began screaming, “I bet that I’m so loud that the cop at the lights can hear me.”
“We ain’t doing nothing wrong b***h.”
“Tell it to the cop.”
They left. I could feel my bones shake, but I made it home safely.
I have had many reactions to this story. Many reactions were to blame me.
One woman behaved as though I should be ashamed. “Oh my god, I hope that you don’t tell this story to anyone?”
Many questioned me. “What were you wearing? Why were walking alone? Why were you walking at night? Only w****s walk alone, especially at night”
Some even blamed where I lived. “What do expect living there? If you want respect, move to a good neighborhood. You can’t blame those poor boys. All the broads in Hull are either selling it or giving it away. Why else would anyone go to Hull?”
When I was asked “what I expected?”, I answered, “I expect to be treated with respect. This being failed, I expect people to F*** OFF the first time I tell them.”
– Jennifer
Location: Eddy Street, Gatineau, Quebec, Canada
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