Archives for September 2014

Twice in the past couple of weeks, I have been verbally assaulted by passersby while walking my dogs.  The first time, I was standing on the side of a trail commonly shared by cyclists, pedestrians and runners.  A man biking quickly by commented on my dogs, whom I think he thought would get in his way, and when I defended them, he went on to make several profane arm and hand gestures as he yelled vulgar words at me.  He continued to bike quickly away.

The second time was this evening in my neighborhood.  I was walking my dogs again, on a sidewalk, carrying a flashlight around 9:00 pm.  A passenger in a sedan that was waiting at a 4-way stop sign/intersection began screaming profanity and threatened to hurt me as I started crossing the road.   I called 911 and to my dismay, found that I had to wait to speak to an operator due to a high call volume.  Initially, I second guessed my decision to call 911 due to concerns that more significant matters could be causing the unexpected high call volume in my area.  Nevertheless, I waited and spoke with a 911 operator.  The operator listened and reported that he would send police to the area.

Optional: What’s one way you think we can make public places safer for everyone?

I think every town could benefit from public postings of street harassment laws.  Victims should know their rights and community awareness of the issue might possibly help to reduce its prevalence.

– Anonymous

Location: Collier & Mt Lebanon, PA

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

 

I was on my way home after school.  That meant walking from the Air Force base to the Fussa train station.

Right outside the base, there are a lot of bars. Bars that employ young Asian (not Japanese) women as “hostesses” and perhaps even sex workers.  I, a young half-Asian mixed girl, had been mistaken for one of these women before, by a man who profusely apologized after asking me on my way to school, “What time are you open?”

I remember what I was wearing:  A light blue shirt and light blue trackpants.  I was covered from head to toe, no cleavage to show, no legs exposed.  I looked every bit like the student I was.

A car pulled over on the other side of the road.

A young man got out.

“Asobo?”  He called out.

Loosely translated, “Let’s play.”

I had no doubt what he meant and what he thought I was.

He followed me, continue to call out: “Asobo?  Asobo?”  He got louder, sounding more forceful.

I refused to turn around and soon he stopped following me.

I hadn’t told my father and my stepmother about the previous encounters.  But this was the last straw.  I didn’t feel safe.

I bravely brought it up.  My stepmother shrugged it off.  “It happens to everybody,” she says.  To her, it was no big deal.  Men were perverts who harassed schoolgirls and what happened to me was normal enough.

I hoped my father would offer to drive me to school.  But he didn’t.  Thankfully, I never encountered another incident like that for the last remaining months of school.

I used to laugh when I told this story.  I was mistaken for a prostitute, could you believe it?  But it’s not funny, not anything about it is funny.  Not for the women of other Asian countries working  at those bars and certainly not for me, a fifteen-year-old girl.

– Anonymous

Location: Fussa, Japan

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

Last week at the end of the work day I exited my office, and approached my car parked directly out front. In the few seconds it takes to make this walk a young male spotted me as he drove past and yelled out his window “”….f@$% you in your P@$$#!”” I couldn’t make out all of it, but it is by far the most violent of words I have heard someone hurl at me as they drive past. I was the only person on the street.

I don’t consider myself an easy target. Although it’s summer, there was nothing skimpy about my clothing. I try to dress nicely, but I’m not an attention-grabber. I consider myself average looking, and don’t think I have ever fit the stereotypical profile of someone that some people might justify is “asking for it.”  I prefer to keep to myself, and behave with dignity. By the sound of the pubescent cracks in that kid’s voice, I’d guess I’m at least ten years his elder. I highly doubt I’ve ever come into contact with him before, or that I ever will again. I was just a woman getting into her car.

At other times I’ve been an average woman out for a walk with a group of friends, or a woman waiting at a do not cross light. In some ways it is comforting that these encounters are anonymous. I can imagine that these men would not yell insults at me while they were within range of a pepper spray canister. However, it’s confusing that such an average woman can be assaulted anywhere, at any time, simply because I must walk down a street.

– BKM

Location: Lacey, WA

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

I’m 54 years old.  I don’t get yelled at any more.  And it is a relief. Every time I pass a construction site I get a little lift just from knowing that I won’t be yelled at.

But the problem is worse than ever.  And I refuse to just bask in the privilege of no longer being a target.

Last year I was walking behind a young woman as we passed a construction site.  She got cat called.  I called out to her.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she walked quickly away, humiliated.

I stopped in front of the men who had yelled at her.

“Hey!”  I yelled, over the sound of the jackhammer.

“What?”

“What the hell was that about?”

“What?  What’s going on?”  They were looking around, confused.

“Why did you yell at that woman?”

They groaned to each other.  “Why don’t you move along, lady.”

“I’ll tell you why!  I have a daughter her age!  What the hell is your problem?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“It’s my business now!  I want to see your manager right now.  I’m calling 911 and reporting harassment if you don’t get him out here right NOW.”

They chose to ignore me.  I phoned it in. The 911 receptionist was nearly indifferent.  But I made sure they saw me call it in.  And then I called the construction company and let the receptionist know that I was very unimpressed with the company.  I wasn’t able to have a direct conversation with anyone or get taken seriously about it.  But I think I gave them a tiny scare.

Optional: What’s one way you think we can make public places safer for everyone?

People who don’t get harassed need to make a stink about it and let the world know it’s intolerable.  Victims themselves cannot always stand up because they are busy saving themselves.  The rest of us who DON’T get cat-called are morally obligated to make it stop.

– Robbie

Location: Littleton, Colorado

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea