Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

Archives for June 2013

“To say that I felt betrayed would be an understatement”

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I am a 20-something year old, living in beautiful Vancouver, which does not seem so beautiful anymore.

Happened to me just yesterday. Me and two of my girlfriends were going to go shopping and then meet up with some more friends for dinner that evening. So I put on my favourite shirt, which is pretty long and fully covers my bum, and wore white shorts underneath.

It was around 4 p.m., in a broad daylight, and we just got off the bus in downtown. And it happened when the three of us were crossing towards the shopping mall. There were two guys walking past me, and all of a sudden, one of the two guys that were passing me by slapped my bum and strode away as if nothing had happened. It happened so fast, I was speechless and in shock for good 5 seconds. When I quickly turned around, they were already indistinguishable from the crowd. I didn’t even get to see their goddamn faces. It’s funny how nobody around me noticed.

I felt extremely violated, humiliated, and terrified. But what shocked me even more was my friends’ reaction. When I told the girls what just happened, one of them said, “Oh really? Wow, he was fast! Haha, but don’t worry, they probably did that ’cause they know they can’t get any.”

Her exact words. These girls didn’t seem to understand what ‘harassment’ even meant. They spoke of it as just some kind of unusual way of complimenting me. All I was expecting was a simple ‘Are you okay? What an asshole!’ But not even once did they ask if I was alright.

And when I told her that no, I’m not okay, and I have a sudden urge to murder whoever just did that, she responded, smiling, “Haha.. kay, stop. That’s enough.”

That’s enough? What’s enough? To say that I felt betrayed would be an understatement. I was already blaming myself for not immediately chasing after those men to at least say something. But on top of that, to have my “friends” say to me that I should just stop recalling the incident and stop dwelling on it, that really broke me.

That whole evening I don’t know how I kept my composure. I thought about going home multiple times throughout the evening, but I couldn’t. Ridiculously enough, because I was scared. Terrified… that I might be harassed again on the way home. So I hid my feelings and acted like I didn’t care, like it didn’t affect me at all. But shame and unworthiness ate me up inside…

I still can’t stop thinking about the incident, and it’s so frustrating there’s nothing I can do about it now. Street harassment has happened to me a couple times before, and I always didn’t know how to smartly hit back. And it’s frustrating to a point where I become depressed. I don’t understand why people don’t know that these things become a hideous scar that can’t be erased forever in your mind. That haunts you every now and then, And it’s painful, often not just mentally.

Do you have any suggestions for dealing with harassers and/or ending street harassment in general?

I am desperate to know how to deal with harassers, but unfortunately I don’t, and I feel broken. I strongly believe street harassment should be discussed in middle/high schools. People should be educated that street harassment is a serious matter and should never be taken lightly.

– Anonymous

Location: Vancouver

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“You’re a stand-up guy!”

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Returning from lunch today, a well-dressed and fit silver fox walking a few feet in front of me was cat-calling, whistling at, gawking at, and generally making every woman on New Montgomery feel very uncomfortable.

The construction workers outside the Academy of Art campus on New Montgomery even suggested he keep his comments to himself.

Naturally, I felt like I needed to do something, so I got all up in his bubble and proceeded to make some rather bold remarks about his physique, what I’d do with it, etc., and all-in-all returned his misogyny in kind. I got high-fives from the construction workers who said, “You’re a stand-up guy!”

I like making new friends. As for the original cat-caller, he took off, almost running. My new friends and I had a nice laugh at his expense.

– Phillip S Huff

Location: San Francisco, CA

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“It’s OK, we weren’t talking to you – just about you.”

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A daytime shot of the intersection where this happened in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Photo credit: Anthony Lanzilote for AM New York.

I live in a safe neighborhood.

Of course, as a woman, that’s not an unqualified statement. What I mean is, I’ve only felt a relatively normal amount of fear when I walk alone or come home late. I don’t mean safe as in, I’m not worried about being harassed, followed, or worse. I mean, I’m not as worried about being harassed and followed as I would be in some other neighborhoods.

But last night I didn’t feel safe – I felt scared.

I went to pick up take-out for my boyfriend and me. I was presumptuous enough to do this alone. As I crossed the street kitty-corner from my block, two older men entered the cross walk as well. I did have that fleeting thought – it’s only a split second, hardly articulated, but spelled out it would read, “Please don’t say anything… not tonight…”

And then I heard, “Mira.” Spanish for, “Look.” Men in New York don’t usually expect me to speak Spanish. But I understood that one of them was telling the other to look at me, and when I turned he was a foot away from me, looking me up and down, and nearly drooling. (I know, I know, so flattering.)

I couldn’t help it. This was not a moment to “just ignore it” – he was too close. I said very clearly and directly to this man, “Please stop looking at me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

He replied, “It’s ok, I was just talking to my friend.”

It’s ok, we weren’t talking to you – just about you. This street doesn’t belong to you.

The other light was green and I needed to get away. I crossed the other street quickly, in front of the last few lighted shops before my dark apartment building. But when I was halfway up the block, I saw the man who had originally pointed me out crossing diagonally through the middle of the street and heading straight toward me. I started to panic. Was he coming after me? Was he going to say something? Would he try to hurt me? Would anyone help? This is New York…

I immediately made a plan. I was carrying my cell phone and wallet in one hand and my dinner and an umbrella in the other. If anyone – a sexual harasser or otherwise – wanted to take my wallet, it would have been easy. I’ve heard so many stories, and had so many men overreact when I told them to stop harassing me, that I knew, if he was following me, how this would play out. If this man wanted to intimidate me, the easiest thing for him to do would be to grab my wallet and phone and push me to the ground. He would walk away with some cash, an iPhone, and a renewed sense of his violent power.

I put the take-out bag handle over my left wrist and with the same hand held my phone and wallet against my stomach. In my right hand, I gripped the handle of my folded umbrella, ready to defend myself.

Perhaps I should note here – I’m a peace activist. I’m a practitioner of nonviolence, and everything I do personally and professionally is aimed at reducing the amount of violence in this world. But here I was, outside my own home in my “safe” neighborhood, mentally preparing myself to hit a man with my umbrella as hard as I could to defend myself.

I was thinking it through – he had fallen in step behind me, so if I heard him get close or saw his shadow too near me, I would have to turn around. I couldn’t let him get between me and my front door or I’d never get home safely. If he put his hands on me I’d get one good whack to bat him off and I’ve have to instantly run. If I didn’t run as fast as I could and get inside that door, there would be no fending off this man twice my height. And if he happened to be walking behind me because he lived in my building of 125 units where no one talks to their neighbors, well, then, there was no hope for me.

I got inside and up four flights of stairs as fast as I could, and he didn’t try to follow me. But my boyfriend and I were both scared and angry for several minutes even after I’d dead bolted our door.

Most of the time these men don’t follow me. Compared to the stories I’ve heard, I’ve been very lucky. But this isn’t the first time this has happened, and I know it won’t be the last. Every time a man harasses me, and especially when I dare to speak back, I have to plan my self defense, my escape route, the bystander I’ll look to, and what I’ll yell. I’ve practiced, “I don’t know you! Stop it!” lest anyone think this a “domestic dispute” that they shouldn’t get involved in.

This is the city, and the world, we live in. I can march against rape, injustice, police violence, and the war, but when I go out at night… I’d better have that umbrella.

Talia Hagerty is peace economics activist and Stop Street Harassment’s 2013 summer intern. Follow her on twitter – @taliahagerty – or read her blog about making the world better at www.theoryofchange.wordpress.com.

 

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“PLEASE speak up”

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There is a bus stop outside Thorpe Park. It gets very busy there as people are waiting to leave the park. I was with a friend waiting for the bus when a man (I’d say in his 40’s) approached us both. He began making small talk to us – me being my shy self i responded to try and sound polite – he then began to compliment us, and asking us where we were going, and what bus we are getting.

I told him I’m not comfortable with saying that and he then got very, very close to me and proceeded to tell me what a SLUT I am for playing ‘hard to get’, and that I’m just begging for attention because I was wearing shorts.

My friend spoke up and told him to go away and as she tried to walk away he slapped her bum.

This is disgusting, it might not seem that bad but I was terrified. This man was so much older than me and yet he still thought it was acceptable to act like this? I must also note that me and my friend were 13 at the time, and I was wearing shorts because it was August and it was very hot.

People were around yet they just ignored it like nothing was happening. I’m 15 now and to this day people still act this way to women and men and think it’s acceptable. It’s NOT.

If you see someone who could be in a situation like this, even if you only get a little bit worried that something could happen, PLEASE speak up. Help them. I am so grateful my friend was there with me, if i was alone who knows what could have happened.

– Anonymous

Location: Thorpe park, Surrey, UK

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Cartoon character “Johnny Bravo” learns about street harassment

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In 1997, Cartoon Network premiered the cartoon “Johnny Bravo,” in which an over-the-top stereotype of a macho guy pursues women who usually outsmart him and/or ditch him. I admit, from time to time I watched it with my sister. It was entertaining to see women always get the better of Johnny and to see his woman-chasing ways portrayed as silly.

Jeff Perera at White Ribbon just sent me this clip from an episode in which a fortune-teller turns Johnny into a woman so he can learn what it’s “really like to be woman.” As a woman, Johnny/Jenny faces constant street harassment and he does not like it! After a few men harass her, Johnny/Jenny beats them up, and then we see other women beat up their harassers. Of course, I’m no proponent of violence, but it was kind of satisfying to see all of the cartoon women stand up to their harassers and to see a kids cartoon portray street harassment as annoying and not okay (as opposed to being a compliment). A lot of adults could learn a thing or two from it!

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