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“It ruined my entire day”

August 31, 2015 By Contributor

I walked out of the restroom at the mall after having a wonderful day with my mom. Walking to the elevator to the parking garage, I hear a wolf whistle from the middle aged men I passed on the upper floor. I’m 14 years old, and it ruined my entire day.

– Anonymous

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Filed Under: Stories, street harassment

“No one asked if I was ok”

August 23, 2015 By Contributor

I was walking along the street yesterday afternoon. A man walking towards me catcalled me (hello beautiful, sexy etc etc). I felt angry and (not very eloquently) responded with ‘shut up, wanker’. I had assumed he was alone but he then called out to his girlfriend/wife/whatever declaring that I’d called him a wanker. I kept walking and tried to get on the bus, she followed me grabbed me by the hair and then knocked me to the ground yelling ‘you f***ing slag’ at me. I stood up and went towards the bus, they both continued to yell at me, again calling me a ‘slag’ and asking why I was calling him a wanker and asserting that ‘He was giving me a compliment’ and ‘who did I think I was?’ There was an entire bus of people watching. No one asked if I was ok.

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

Educate boys and men about why catcalling is unacceptable

– Anonymous

Location: London, UK

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“Not one damn soul on earth has the right to talk about my body the way you just did”

August 21, 2015 By Contributor

Dear Man in the Blue Minivan,

Sometimes street harassment isn’t calling me ʺbaby,ʺ asking me to smile, or commenting on my outfit. Sometimes street harassment isn’t on the day when I wore a cute top and got attention, or when I am walking home late from a bar and my hair is tossed.

Sometimes, street harassment is in broad daylight, on my way to work, and not in the form of a ʺcompliment.ʺ

Today, street harassment was a man from the comfort of his car, waiting to turn on a walk signal, angrily yelling at me to ʺmove my fat ass along.ʺ

Sadly, I’ve grown fairly used to street harassment in my daily life; I’ve perfected the sunglasses-on, earbuds-in, ʺcan’t see, can’t hear youʺ technique. Granted, most of these harassers use words to get my attention disguised as a compliment, perhaps a chance to make me blush. I’ve never said anything or asked them to stop —

Sunglasses-on, earbuds-in.

But, today I wanted to say something. Not just because you degraded me with an asinine insult or because our interaction was within earshot of coworkers. Today is different because I’ve realized something. Thanks to you, I realized not one damn soul on earth has the right to talk about my body the way you just did.

Including myself.

I’ve struggled with body image issues most of my life. The words you threw at me are the same I’ve said quietly in my head, wishing my fat ass would just hurry along. I have belittled and disrespected myself in more ways than you ever could.

You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I hate intersection crosswalks. Seems unreasonable, right? But, I hate them. I abhor the feeling of a dozen cars lined up, fixing their gaze on the people walking through a crosswalk. I’ll get a flurry of thoughts all at once; is my skirt too short? Did I wear something too tight? Do I look too large? Can they all see me?

After years of growing stronger, learning to love myself and step broadly into the sun for all to see, you took a small sliver of that acquired love-of-self away from me. All at once, I became afraid of crosswalks again. Not because a car might hit me if I miss the light, but because your vulgar words made you feel empowered and stripped me of my confidence. I hate that I allowed you to make me feel that way and that you have managed to stain that area of the street with memories of your negligent and unnecessary pass of judgement.

To the woman on the sidewalk who said, ʺthat’s so rudeʺ and shook her head when he drove off, thank you. Your three simple words in solidarity were my saving grace and snap back to reality, that no one, not even myself, has the right to disrespect my body.

So, dear man in the blue minivan, I will use my body in the best way I know how — to share this story and inspire others to feel a little braver when they step into a crosswalk. To be what the woman on the sidewalk was to me: solidarity.

Sincerely,

Sara

Location: Washington, DC (intersection near Logan Circle)

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“I just want to go outside and feel safe for once”

August 19, 2015 By Contributor

I’m a 17 year-old African-American girl, and I’ve never felt safe when in public on my own. Whether I’m on my way to work or headed downtown to hang out with friends, men feel the need to make remarks on how I look.

And it’s always older men. Men much older than me who make remarks on my appearance and call me beautiful and make me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

I used to think that maybe it ways the way I was dressing or how I did my hair that attracted all this unwanted attention. One day during summer, I was on my way to the public library to get some homework done. I stepped out of my house with my hair in a low pony-tail and a casual outfit, (leggings, oversized t-shirt, sneakers). Right away three men across the street had their eyes on me and watched me cross the street. One block away, an older man spotted me and said, ʺHey beautiful, how you doingʺ and on that same block another older man fixing his car looked me up and down and said, ʺHey how’s it going.ʺ As I entered the library another man yelled at me but I walked away quickly.

A few hours later, I started to head home. Crossing the street one man looked at me and told me I was a ʺblessed young ladyʺ and a construction worker got in my way just to say hello.

This is why I feel so unsafe when I go out alone. I always feel like people are watching me and I hate it. I just want to go outside and feel safe for once.

It’s not fair that at such a young age I’m scared to go out and enjoy a nice day because I’m worried about my well-being. But the sad reality is that I’m probably never going to feel safe when I’m out alone.

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

Security guards? They always make me feel safer

– Anonymous

Location: San Francisco, CA

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“There is just not ONE day that goes by without being harassed by men”

August 18, 2015 By Contributor

It happens every day, between 5 to 20 times a day. On my very short way to the bakery I may be catcalled 6 times. Sometimes a man brushes past me, coming from behind, whispering things in my ear. I feel scared and angry, and anger is keeping me awake at night. I dream I fight and break every bone in his face.

One day I was walking down the street and a man from a car called me. I ignored him because I’ve tried everything and in the end I always get called names. He slowed down and started following me in his car. Another time I was walking and a group of men was coming from the opposite direction. It was too late (and not easy) to change pavements so I continued, trying not to walk too fast or too slow, eyes down. They circled me and walked with me for a hundred meters. I told them, ʺYou won, I’m scared, now can you leave me alone?ʺ they continued a little then left. Anger is piling up inside me.

Now a simple catcall fuels me up for the day and it takes longer and longer to calm down. It happens everywhere, whether in posh areas or in poorer neighborhoods. It happens whether they’re on the phone or with their kids in their arms. It happens whether they’re barely fourteen or in their fifties. I’ve learned to spot groups of men, change my itinerary, avoid certain places at certain times, walk with my hands free ʺjust in caseʺ.

I dream of telescopic sticks and pepper sprays and knives.

One day I was having a burger in my car, parked right in front of the restaurant. Two men parked next to me and started knocking on my window, asking me to lower it down. I didn’t move, they started hitting harder and harder.

There is just not ONE day that goes by without being harassed by men out there.

People ask me why I don’t get accompanied by a guy? Right, because obviously women are not allowed to be outside anymore?! One day (in broad daylight, please stop thinking this is about going out late and ʺtaking risksʺ (?!)) a man on a bicycle climbed on the pavement, stopped right in front of me, told the male friend with me to ʺf**k offʺ. Which he did. Nothing else happened but I was so scared, and I felt so powerless.

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

There should be a public statement made by the politics. Not once did they take the initiative to say ʺBelgium is a free country where both men and women have the same rights. If you can’t respect this principle, those values, measures will be taken.ʺ I’m afraid I’d also add: more cameras…

– Anonymous

Location: Brussels, Belgium

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Filed Under: Stories, street harassment

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