Contributor, Author at Stop Street Harassment

New Orleans Bead Throwers

June 5, 2009 By Contributor

Earlier this year I traveled to New Orleans for a long weekend get away. I’d never been and looked forward to seeing the sites and hearing the sounds. Of course I had to visit Bourbon Street in the heart of the French Quarter and people watch. One late afternoon, bordering on evening (definitely within the Happy Hour window), I walked about a mile stretch of the street. Going in the first direction, I vaguely noticed a group of people with drinks on a second floor balcony enjoying the atmosphere, the company, the moment. I didn’t think much about it.

On the way back, at the same place, I noticed someone throwing a string of beads from the balcony to a passerby. I stopped to watch and soon realized that what was happening was that as women passed there were yells, catcalls, some sort of communication and if the woman looked up and responded, then she’d receive a string of beads tossed to her as a reward. As I stood and watched, about 1/3 of the women passersby seemed either oblivious to the situation or to just ignore it, about 1/3 actually crossed to the other side of the street to pass without the harassment, and about 1/3 seemed to realized what was happening and, although most of them just continued on with only faint recognition, a few actually responded in a way that gave them the prized string of beads.

I’ve thought off and on about the situation and what my feelings were. I thought many things, trying to rationalize what I saw. These thoughts included all sorts of predictable things like, “well, it was only a week after Mardi Gras and beads were more popular than ticker tape in New York or politicians in Washington DC. People in New Orleans need very little to provoke a gift of beads any time of the year, let alone at that time”; or, well the event took place during Happy Hour on a Friday—whaddya expect?!”, and of course there are the expected thoughts of “afterall, it was Bourbon Street in New Orleans—come on!!”

I guess the enduring point I take away is that 1/3 of the women were uncomfortable enough with the situation that they crossed to the other side of the street to avoid the situation. It seems to be a perfect fit for the standard definition of sexual harassment—a situation in which someone is forced to experience unwanted or unexpected personally directed attention. It doesn’t matter where it is, if it is unwanted, it needs to be respected.

– a male ally

Sick Perv

June 5, 2009 By Contributor

Yesterday around 12:30PM I was walking down a narrow street in Brooklyn (61st Street, between 8th and 9th Avenue) and there was a man wearing a red tshirt walking really slowly in front of me and taking up the entire sidewalk. I was in a rush so I walked faster, hoping to get ahead of him. When I quickened my pace, he started walking faster as well (I was wearing flip flops so he could hear me walking faster) which I thought was a little odd. I kept walking faster, and he kept walking faster, but I ultimately got in front of him, but I could still hear him walking really fast behind me to try and catch up which made me feel slightly nervous. I felt a poke from behind and I turned around and the sick perv had his penis hanging out. Now that he had my attention he resumed his slow pace. I was too shocked/disgusted/angered to say or do anything so I just crossed the street and walked in the opposite direction.

– anonymous

Beer Festival Hell

June 3, 2009 By Contributor

I was at a beer festival and at the end of the event one man grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me along with him. I jerked my hand away and walked back towards my friends. Another man approached me and asked to take my picture. I was shaken from the other man grabbing me so I figured it would be better to comply and not anger him, but when I was standing there he pulled down the front of my shirt and touched my breast. I just sort of turned and ran away. Since then I feel uncomfortable wearing low cut shirts when I will be walking alone because I think that is what attracted his attention.

-anonymous

Dogs Deflect Street Harassers?

June 1, 2009 By Contributor

If I go out alone at night in my neighborhood I get an average of 3-5 “hey baby” type comments per outing. If I go out with my dogs, I get roughly the same number of people, from roughly the same age/gender range asking me friendly questions about them, which is a kind of interaction that I enjoy. Somehow the presence of the dogs, even though they are not at all scary looking, completely changes the way men interact with me on the street from upsetting and sexualized to pleasant and neighborly. I am completely baffled.

-anonymous

Unpleasant Reminder

May 28, 2009 By Contributor

A few evenings ago, I was walking down the street with my girlfriend in downtown Louisville. We were walking home from a poetry reading. As we were walking, I noticed a man walking along side of us. He passed us, and then spat twice directly in our pathway. It didn’t hit us, fortunately.

I was baffled. I said aloud, “Gross! Did that guy just spit at us?”

Another man, who had been walking just behind us, also passed us up. He overheard my question and said, “He was cursing you.”

I was even more puzzled. “What?”

“He was cursing you. It was a curse,” he said, and continued down the street.

My girlfriend and I were disgusted and confused. Why in the world would some random strange man want to curse us? And then it hit me.

It was because my girlfriend and I were holding hands. In public. For all the world to see. Including homophobic jerkwads.

As an openly gay woman, I’ve had to train myself to not notice people on the street. I’ve taught myself to not pay attention to other people’s reactions when they see my girlfriend and me holding hands or acting affectionate in public. You know, the same way straight couples act in public, only they don’t get spit at or cursed. This kind of deliberate tuning out of the world is the only way I’m able to enjoy being out and visible with my girlfriend. So sometimes I forget that people hate me without knowing me. Sometimes I forget that people think I’m evil, a sinner, going to hell, disgusting, perverted, or somehow less than human.

It’s not very pleasant to be reminded.

-Maria

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