I have just come through the front door and straight to my macbook, this is the only thing I could think to do.

I am so mad. I feel powerless and this infuriates me further.

I just want to share this because I know reading the stories that others share makes me feel as though I’m not so alone when this happens.

I am a New Zealander and have been in California for a little over a month. Today I cycled in to the city with my hair out.

As far as I can see this is the only thing that made today any different. I will often tie it up because it seems to attract unwanted attention. This alone is a ridiculous thing and I’m a little ashamed to admit I do it. I went blonde 6 months ago and apparently being blonde means you’re handing out licenses to men in public to treat you even worse than before.

I had just said goodbye to my partner as he started work and walked all of 30 ft from him around a corner and a guy with a back-pack says, “You’re looking beautiful today.”

I say, “Thanks.”

My skin crawls but honestly, I hope that having responded politely is enough to make him keep walking.

“What’s your name?”

Damn. I keep walking.

“Hey, where you from? You got an accent” “Hey”

“You from England?”

I keep walking, it’s daylight, it’s public, as soon as I round this corner he’ll be gone. Safe.

Sure enough, he heads in the direction I came from and I keep on to where I’m going.

I pick up our bikes from a cafe a couple of blocks away and walk back to lock my partner’s bike up outside work for him before I head home. As I’m heading back to his workplace it occurs to me that this guy was heading in that direction but I think surely not. He’ll be gone by now.

No, sure enough there he is on the end of the block on a bike of his own as I round the corner.

I pretend I didn’t see him and walk to the bike lock and begin quickly shuffling the bikes into position, trying to get it done as quickly as possible. Hurrying, hoping it’s done before the creep makes it over.

Too late, he’s there sitting on his bike leaning on the power pole just in front of me. I’m trapped, I can’t seem to make the bikes fit because I’m starting to stress about the situation and he starts.

You know he’s gonna start and you know where this is going because being a woman means you’ve been here countless times before. Each time it makes me angrier. Each time I am more infuriated about the sense of powerlessness that this other human being can make me feel.

“Where you from? Hey where you from?”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re from here”

“No,” I reply, trying to sound annoyed and not fearful, “I’m from New Zealand.”

“I’ve been to Australia, you been to Australia?” “You like Australians?” “Hey you like Aussie boys?”

“No. What I’d like is to be left alone.”

Bike is locked and he cycles off. Thank god.

There’s an older couple (mid 60’s) less than 15ft from all of this, isn’t it weird that initially I felt a little embarrassed and that in my head I was hoping for their sake that he didn’t cause a scene?

In hindsight, why didn’t they say something? They were watching and it was clear that I didn’t know him. This guy was clearly harassing me and I couldn’t immediately get away from him.

The guy circles back and starts yelling at me, circling on the street on his bike

“F***ing bitch.” “F***ing kiwi bitch, huh? You f***ing kiwi bitch”

He pulls the fingers.

I pull them back and yell, “F*** off”

So angry now. What the hell could I have done to make that situation any better?

I look at the older couple and they’re glaring at me!?

Like I’m the one who’s somehow behaved inappropriately?

Sorry guys, polite, evidently, wasn’t getting the message across either. How about, “Are you okay?” or “That was so rude” or something, yeah?

My partner was just as angry as I was, “I’m so sorry that happened to you” “Where did he go?” “Are you okay?”

Still, as I cycle home I’m looking over my shoulder, worried that he’s going to follow me or see me again and get even more aggressive. Why should I have to bear the weight of feeling unsafe in a space I have a right to be in?

I read some really great stories of how people have retaliated and every time one of these situations occurs I always regret not having thought of something quicker! I wish I’d pulled my phone out and taken a photo of him or something.

And have others experienced the same frustration towards silent bystanders? ? ?

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

I truly believe that this issue needs to be taken more seriously by society. It should be talked about in schools, it should be campaigned about by government like drunk driving.

It’s interesting when you explain to someone that this kind of behavior is actually harassment and a violation of your human rights. There are a lot of people who simply haven’t thought of it that way. I find that you can usually see something change over and a real “oh yeah, it’s really wrong” moment happen. I remember when a close friend had me experience that moment, suddenly all of these horrible and uncomfortable memories since about age 9 made a lot more sense. They felt wrong because they were wrong. How can we make that happen globally!?

– Samantha R

Location: Palm Street, San Luis Obispo, CA

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I lived for five years in Milwaukee, near a men’s homeless shelter. Here’s a little bit of background on me- I am a skinny white girl with a very big booty, so catcalls are nearly constant. This is my favorite story:

One day in January I was walking home, and happened to be in front of a few African American men I recognized as being residents of the shelter. One called out to me, “Hey! White girl! Anyone ever tell you you got a body of a sista’?”

Actually, yes.

So I stopped, turned around, calmly said, “Actually, yes. I have been told that before.”

The men stopped, looked at me, looked at each other, and then finally one yelled back, “Oh. Well, uh, have a happy Martin Luther King Day!”

This instance was more humorous than anything to me. I get cat called as much as any other girl. I don’t let it get to me. I think I have been conditioned to equate getting cat called with being attractive, or desirable. I make sure to always feel that I am in control of the situation. I interact with the cat callers, cat call them back, etc. I don’t EVER let them make me feel inferior or ashamed. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent…which is truly one of my favorite quotes.

– Anna W.

Location: Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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Just TODAY some guy walking by me said, “YOU SHOULDN’T BE SO SAD! SMILE!!” I was deep in thought going over my to do list for a work event tomorrow that I’m organizing. no big deal, just the Grand Opening for my new office.

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

If I have the time or am not in thought, I will ask the man if they are a rapist. This usually stops them in their tracks. I then inform them that “Verbal power play’s to women on the street is the step just before a physical power play such as rape.” and then point out the nearest police officer asking if we should go get their opinion. Some tell me obscenities, others blush and walk away.

– HC

Location: Downtown Seattle, WA

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I get harassed on the street in my neighborhood all the time. I’m talking at least twice daily as I walk to and from train stations or to neighborhood businesses running errands. Whether it’s whispers, someone gawking at me, shouts from across the street or a car or physical contact, it’s constant. The only times it doesn’t happen is when I walk around with my boyfriend. I am used to this but it is obnoxious and disappointing every single time it happens.

This day we were experiencing spring thunderstorms in NYC, so as I walked home from the train station after work I kept my big black umbrella positioned so that I did not have to make eye contact with harassers on the way. Instead of taking this very clear indication that I did not want to be bothered, a guy walking in the opposite direction grabbed then dragged his fingers along my arm to get my attention.

I was immediately furious. How dare he invade my personal space like that? Is my walking down the street really an invitation for you to treat my body like your property to handle whenever you please? I shouted at him, “Why are you touching me?! I don’t know you! You don’t know me!” I dropped a couple of expletives for effect, but he only grinned and walked on.

I was so furious walking the last block home, still stunned from the interaction, only to be whispered at by two guys as I was forced to walk through them (they were standing in a crowd – in the rain – on the sidewalk as many groups such as these are prone to do in my neighborhood). “Hey ma, how you doin’?” “Hey girl, you can’t speak?”

Should I have to speak? Are they saying these things to children who walk around minding their business? How about men? The elderly? Why is it that just because I am a woman I am subjected to this DAILY? WHY?

I spoke to a coworker about this incident. Her solution was that I should find a way to avoid them. “I would walk all the way around the block to avoid them if that’s what I have to do.” This is my NEIGHBORHOOD. I live here. Why should I have to do that? Besides, as I told her, there are more groups just like this on every other surrounding block, too. Nothing is going to change. She shrugged, “Well, that’s the price of being a pretty young woman.”

She told me I must pay for looking the way I do and for being a woman.

It really opened my eyes to how society has cultured men to think these aggressive and invasive behaviors are okay and women to think they must simply deal and hope the whispers don’t escalate into an attack.

– MJ

Location: 146th St. and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd., NYC, NY

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There came an age in every recently hit-puberty-age of a teenage girl’s life in my hometown – and in many parts of the country – when you get your first taste of the car horn + whistle + ‘compliment’ combo.

And what a day it is! You may be 14 and feeling down as you’re socially outcast because you do not go to parties and drink vodka and sugary syrupy mixes on your Saturday night. Instead you’re limited to a movie and hot chocolate at a cafe. Albeit, the coolest cafe in town. What could spice this night up?! Why, an overload of street harassment of course!

Boy racers we called them back then. Recently drivers licensed guys racing around the ‘square’ in the city centre tooting their car horns at teenage girls. They’d wolf whistle and yell out things like, “Wanna come for a drive sexy?” “My friend has a big cock!” (Followed by laughing) Often it would just be lots of tooting and inarticulate yelling. Remember, these were only young teenage boys, not all could truly express themselves emotionally yet.

Now we all do ‘dumb stuff’ when we’re a young teen, right? (I thought if I cut my eye lashes off they’d grow back longer and thicker, thereby making me more attractive to guys) so I get that a 15 or 16 year old might think street harassment is genuinely a great idea, particularly as everyone else does it, and there are no consequences for doing so from their peers, parents, or society. They even think that if the girl yells back to tell them where to go, or signs a rude gesture, that this is all part of the game. The thrill of the chase! Girls like to be wooed, and love telling guys where ‘to shove it.’ We can all go home to mum and dad in time for the 11 p.m. curfew happy. Right?

No. The teenage boys like these ones somehow manage to grow up in other ways but not in this department. This is why street harassment shouldn’t be condoned as ‘ah well, boys will be boys’ because at some point these boys will become men who’ve grown up to think this behaviour is all okay with no real understanding of what respect is. Respect doesn’t have to wait until you’re in your late 30s, and settled down with a wife and baby daughter, reminiscing on those silly ‘regrettable’ teenage days, where hohohoho, you hilariously drove around harassing women.

Recently when walking home on a near winter evening at 11.30 p.m. down a busy main road in the city centre I had two separate groups harass me. The first one was a car driving by tooting with guys leaning out the window yelling out to me and wolf whistling. When I ignored them (being the bigger person that I am) what do I get? More yelling, with the addition of laughter. They thought it was hilarious to yell at me. I could no longer be the bigger person so I turned around and said ‘f*** off.’

It was then I came across group number two. Returning to my walking, I get, “Ooooohh, cold.” “Don’t be like that…smile…” I told my flatmate the next day how infuriating this was. Was I scared, or hurt, or afraid for my safety? No, but was it annoying and frustrating? Yes.

I know that my incident is nowhere near the same league as others who have gone through horrific experiences, so I’m not asking for any sympathy here. It feels like society is told that things like this should be accepted in general life as ‘just one of those things.’ No one died so no big deal.

Whilst I typically subscribe to that philosophy, it shouldn’t be applied in situations like this because guys don’t need to harass women from their cars, on the street.

I wasn’t “asking for it.” There was no sign on my long winter coat saying ,“Toot and yell if you think I’m attractive.”

At what point do you think it becomes wrong, guys? What’s the acceptable amount of harassment? Pray, do tell.

– Anonymous

Location: New Zealand

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