My name is Naomi Wilcox, I live & work in Coventry, UK. In 2012 I started the Coventry Feminists group. I am also a member of Coventry Women’s Voices.
Last year we conducted a survey in Coventry, asking women about their experiences of street harassment. In April we published a report ‘An Every Day Occurrence’, which detailed the types of harassment women have experienced, and the way it makes them feel and behave.
I wrote this poem partly in response to the report and the things women told us, but also based on my own personal experiences of street harassment from the age of about 10.
Respect Me
Respect me.
Don’t expect me
to enjoy your stare and your leer
I don’t want to hear
Your words laced with lust
While I wait for the bus
I don’t want to know what you think of my ‘ass’
or my ‘tits’
or any other bits of my body
MY body.
Not yours to ogle or claim
or call sexy names
Not yours to grope
Not yours to touch
Not yours to assess & publicly judge
Respect me.
Don’t expect me to smile
Because you say so,
Or when you shout ‘fancy a shag’
For me to say ‘ok, let’s go’!
Stop staring
Because you’re scaring me.
“I’m fine thanks”
“Go away”
“Please leave me alone.”
“Let me be.”
Respect me.
Don’t expect me to turn around
There’s 3 of you behind me now
You whistle and whistle again
I’ve got my earphones in, head down
I pretend
I can’t hear you.
“Hey white top!” you try in vain,
that’s not my name
Have you noticed my walking has doubled in pace?
Do you have any idea how this feels,
The three of you hot on my heels,
Keen for the chase?
Respect me.
Don’t expect me to take it as a compliment
That’s not what you meant
when you yelled from your car,
rubbed against me at the bar,
followed me and smacked your lips,
tried to grab my hips,
whistled, whooped & groaned,
waited ‘til I was on my own,
hollered ‘hey baby’, ‘hey honey’, ‘hey cutie’, ‘hey sexy’,
Do you REALLY expect me
to respond to this shit?
to comply when you shout ‘show us your tits!’?
or pucker up when you murmur ‘give us a kiss’?
What is it you want?
‘cos I’ve had enough
of this stuff;
of crossing the road
and clutching my keys
of going the long way round to avoid your sleaze.
I’m sick of the feeling of fear and shame
and of fucking rape culture saying I’M to blame!
RESPECT ME!
don’t expect me to shut up about this
‘Cos we will holler back
and call you out
and tell it how it is.
It is harassment.
It is assault.
It is YOURS, and NEVER my fault.
It is power play.
It is oppression.
It is treating me like I am a possession.
It is threatening.
It is disrespectful.
It is entirely neglectful
of the fact that I am much more than ‘a nice rack’
So step back.
Shut your trap.
Walk away.
Avert your gaze.
Keep your hands to yourself,
Do not touch, or obstruct, or follow or yell,
and go tell
all your mates to stop it as well.
Listen and hear.
This isn’t a request or a plea.
It’s a demand
for you
To Respect me.
