Archives for June 2015

“He was trying to slap my butt while going almost 30 miles an hour”

June 20, 2015 By Contributor

I was riding my bike home from class on a busy road when I heard a car swerving unusually close to the bike lane from behind me. I immediately tried to get out of the way, almost hitting a parked car. As the pickup truck passes me, I saw an old guy (around 50) hanging out the window with his arm extended, laughing loudly and shouting, ʺWhoops, I missed!ʺ He was trying to slap my butt while going almost 30 miles an hour in his car.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he must have been thinking about my body during the time they were driving behind me, and that made me feel horribly embarrassed and ashamed. I was furious that he put my safety at risk – not just my comfort, like most cat-callers do, but my actual physical well being – to get a laugh at my expense. Why did he think he had that right?? I know I wasn’t doing anything wrong, that the onus of his behavior is on him and not my actions or appearance, but it still made me feel like I needed to fix something.

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

Right now I think it might just have to be a case-by-case thing. Next time someone makes me uncomfortable in this way, I’ll talk to them about it, assuming the situation allows for that.

– CS

Location: Seattle, WA

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

Charleston Shooting, Race, and Sexual Violence

June 18, 2015 By HKearl

Yesterday, a white supremacist terrorist went to a Black church in Charleston and murdered nine people, six women and three men (read about them. My thoughts go out to their loved ones). This level of premeditated violence and hate is hard to comprehend, particularly at a place that is supposed to be peaceful and safe.

Survivors report he said, “I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country. And you have to go.”

I keep thinking about that. And how wrong he is. Black women are as valuable as white women and women of any other race. There is no “our” and “their.” White men are more likely to rape white women overall than are Black men. Black people are certainly not “taking over” the country. I know I shouldn’t try to find logic in the thought process of someone like him, but, I can’t help but also ask, why kill mostly women if that is his line of reasoning? And at a church?

His words bring up longstanding problems in our society: the perceived value of white women’s bodies over Black women’s and white men justifying their violence against Black people over (usually just lip-service instead of actual) concern for white women.

Dr. Estelle Freedman’s book Redefining Rape: Sexual Violence in the Era of Suffrage and Segregation as well as Dr. Danielle McGuire’s book At the Dark End of the Street: Black Women, Rape, and Resistance–A New History of the Civil Rights Movement from Rosa Parks to the Rise of Black Power are good resources for learning about this in the late 1800s and 1900s in the USA. They show how our country, our legal system is built on the oppression of all women and men of color.

We can see that in how laws and the justice system today protect white men (especially wealthy and heterosexual) at the expense of everyone else. That has to change.

I also want to share what Courtney E. Martin, a writer and thinker whom I greatly admire, shared today on her Facebook page:

“I’m thinking about how, yes, the shooter is probably mentally ill, but how our racist society is, too, and how we can’t pretend he is an anomaly. He is the son of white people, the son of America, the son of our education system and our culture and our history. We made him. White Americans, especially, made him. So how can we stop making him? How can we take responsibility for the history and the present? And what is my role in that unmaking and that claiming of responsibility?“

As a white person too, I think about that. What can I do to challenge racism and to make it so that public spaces, churches, schools, and workplaces are safe and equitable for all? I implore any white people reading this to think about it too (if you aren’t already). We have to help make the change.

Nicaragua Street Harassment Report Release

June 18, 2015 By HKearl

Nicaragua Team Report Release — Click on the image to access the full report.

Our 2014 Safe Public Spaces Mentoring Team Observatorio Contra el Acoso Callejero, Nicaragua, surveyed 900 women about street harassment in the city of Managua in the last months of 2014. More than fifteen volunteers interviewed women ages 14-55 at bus stops across the city.

You can read about their preliminary results here. Today they are officially releasing the full report at a big event, with a press conference.

Congratulations to them and many thanks for their dedication to bringing attention to this issue in their country!

UPDATED: Here are photos and some of the media coverage!

Andrea Farrington, Murdered for Reporting Sexual Harassment

June 15, 2015 By HKearl

Andrea Farrington, image via Liberals Unite

Over the weekend, I was so saddened and outraged to read that Alexander Kozak, a security guard at a mall in Iowa, point blank shot a 20-year-old young woman named Andrea Farrington because she (and other women) had reported him for sexual harassment. He finally lost his job over it, and in retaliation, he murdered her.

Liberals Unite has this on this site today, which is so true:

“The other aspect, which seems to be somewhat overlooked by articles in mainstream and social media, is that this young woman, barely out of her teens, was murdered horribly and in cold blood for reporting sexual harassment.

She reported this man again and again before he was finally let go, and then he killed her.

So the message that’s being sent out to women of all ages experiencing sexual harassment is: Don’t ruffle the feathers. Don’t report harassment. If you do, good luck getting anyone to take action. Good luck not being accused of ‘asking for it.’

If your complaint causes the job termination of someone, take cover, because that person might seek revenge and kill you.

So just quit your job quietly, and go work somewhere else. Leave the harasser, who will keep his job, to continue harassing others – that is, unless he gets arrested for tracking you down and killing you–after all, you did reject him.”

There was a vigil to honor her yesterday. Our thoughts go out to her family and friends. What a senseless and horrific loss.

You can help her family via: http://www.gofundme.com/wx2rxg

France/Brazil: “I Still Feel the Same Terror”

June 15, 2015 By Correspondent

Luiza Pougy Magalhaes, France/Brazil, SSH Blog Correspondent

The very first time I witnessed street harassment, I was very young. I was so young that I didn’t really understand what a passing taxi driver meant when he called my mom a “yummy mommy”, when he looked right at her and said, “Oh mother may I.”

He was stuck in traffic right by my house; his collar opened all the way down to his chest, his arms out of the open window of his taxi. We walked by, completely unaware of his existence. Upon hearing his words, my mom stiffened, her back straightened, she held my hand tighter, and pulled me closer. I remember how I could feel her discomfort, and how I felt uncomfortable myself. I couldn’t understand why he had chosen to direct those words at her. I remember I wanted to protect her. I hated that man and I wished no one would ever speak to my mother like this again.

Today, I can still feel the terror I felt when he stared as we walked away. Now I know that she must have shared that terror. Probably more so than that; she must have felt violated and disgusted, shameful even – ashamed to be spoken like this in front of her daughter.

While I recall every detail of this particular scene, I doubt my mother remembers it at all. When street harassment becomes a daily struggle, we tend to block it out, rather than have it engraved on our memories. Nonetheless, I have a few stories worth sharing.

A couple of years ago, while wandering the streets of Brazil, I got lost. Knowing Brazilian men, I was very careful when asking for directions. I approached a couple of women, but had no luck. I saw a man; middle-aged, a clean-shaved face, impeccable posture, well-fitted suit, and glasses. Surely a well-educated man like himself would do no harm. I walked towards him with a shy smile. Before I could even say anything, he started calling me things; made comments about my legs, said he would pay money for me. Shocked and terrified, I left; mouth wide-open.

That day I learned that street harassers are not exclusive to certain demographics.

A few years after, I walked by a man with a toddler. The little boy lovingly leaned against the man’s chest. Just as they left my eye-sight I heard a whistle and a malicious comment. I turned around. The man was grinning and nodding, his boy looking at me, wide-eyed. Usually, street harassment makes me angry. Then, I just felt sad. Sad thinking about how this boy would be raised, what misogynistic values would be passed on to him.

Sad to realize that there was still a long way to fix society.

Living in France, street harassment also occurs regularly – once, at a supermarket I go to with frequency. The cashier’s line was long and I got distracted on my phone. The sound of a quiet giggle in my ear woke me from my trance. I turned around. There was a guy behind me, doing obscene, sexual gestures. I pushed him off, screamed at him and his friends – his audience. What really shocked me was that none of the cashiers, security, or general staff – who knew me well, I must say – did anything about it. They just looked at me; frowned faces at the foreigner girl who was making a scene.

That day I realized that people don’t think street harassment is a big deal, that street harassment is not taken seriously.

Months later, walking by my university, also in France, I crossed paths with a student; his gaze fixed on me. He licked his lips, hissed, and growled when we locked eye-contact. I called him a creeper and continued my way. He freaked out; started yelling that I “better watch out and have some f***ing respect, bitch.” In disbelief, ashamed, and also terrified, I picked up the pace and pretended like I wasn’t the one he was yelling at.

That day I realized that harassers see their victims with such tremendous inferiority that just the thought that they could stand up for their selves, pushes them over the edge.

You would think that years in the receiving end would have made street harassment any easier to deal with. However, I still feel the same terror that little girl felt when her mom was catcalled by that taxi driver. I feel my back straighten and stiffen just like hers did. I feel uncomfortable, violated, and ashamed, just like she must have felt. After all this time, I still don’t understand why the taxi driver stared, why the man commented, the father whistled, the boy hissed, the guy gestured. And to be honest, I don’t think I ever will.

Luiza is a 20-year-old from Brazil who considers herself a citizen of the world. As a teenager she moved to Singapore and now she studies International Business in France.

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