The other day I saw ahead of me a girl walking by a guy sitting on a bicycle, and as she passed he seemed to turn toward her, but she didn’t acknowledge him, she just kept walking briskly. He yelled after her, “I love you!” and as I got closer to him I heard him say, “And that ass too.”

As I passed him I said to him, “Bad manners!” He proceeded to yell at me as I kept walking, screaming at me that wasn’t talking to me, letting out a string of obscenities, calling me all kinds of misogynistic names and threatening to pull my hair. All this because I said he had bad manners.

To be honest, I thought it was pretty funny, because now anyone walking by was looking at him as a crazy person screaming on the street, hanging around on his bike outside the NYU dormitories (he was clearly way too old to be a student).

I have told a few men that they have bad manners when I’ve either witnessed or been the target of street harassment. Some have said, “I love you too,” some get angry and spit venom, some are fly-by harassing and already walking away so I have no idea how they react.

Is it effective? I have no idea. But at least they get to know what it’s like to be evaluated by a stranger on the street for one second.

– Athena

Location: 14th Street near 3rd Ave, Manhattan, NY

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As a college athlete I spent a great deal of my time in work-out gear, which could constitute anything from spandex shorts and tight tanks to baggy sweats and hoodies. These outfits were function, not fashion, they allowed me to move, to be warm, to preform. But thorough out my 4 years at an urban university, and despite what I perceived as purely functional attire, I was harassed on multiple occasions. Most incidences I let roll off my back, telling myself that these hurtful perceptions were unfounded and that my body was what I made of it, a tool, and a finely tuned athletic instrument.

It wasn’t until fall semester of my senior year while waiting on a trolley platform in the middle of a busy intersection that I was truly shaken by an event. It was chilly and I was dressed in baggy men’s sweats, headed home after a long day full of classes and at least 2 workouts, when I felt that heavy and hostile feeling of being watched. I looked around to find a man staring me down from inside his sedan while waiting for the light to change. It took me a moment to realize what was happening, but when I did I instantly felt a simultaneous rush of disgust and anger flood me. He was masturbating, staring me down, and I soon realized as he rolled his car forward, following as I walked away on the platform. He was trying to get me to watch. The light changed and he drove off before anything more could happen but it left my skin crawling.

I’ve been making art about this and other similar situations ever since.

– Anonymous

Location: Philadelphia, PA

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This is not a specific story. I just wanted to say thank you for this blog, it has helped me so much to read the stories and the tips for how to deal with street harassment. I can not even start to count how many times I’ve been harassed in public – called to, asked rude questions, being followed, grabbed, molested, more than once masturbated at, getting dry humped, everything by men I didn’t know.

I never said anything, I am shy and I was scared, surprised that this would even happen to me, not knowing what to say. I always just did my best to ignore them, and walked away. And I also thought that this was somehow a good strategy, that it was safest, that maybe all they wanted was to provoke and get some kind of response, and that it would be better to just leave it all. I have accepted that this is something that happens a lot, and that there is nothing I can do to change it.

Then I read other stories and that (unless it seems unsafe) you should say something back and show them that it is not ok.

And it is true.

Since I met my girlfriend, it’s different when we are out together. We do get harassed for being lesbians, but I still get the comments directed only to me (she never gets street harassed, I really don’t know why it’s such a difference), and she is always calling them out on it, for us and for me. It feels so good when she does that, to see their jeers wiped away from their faces.

I still have to get up the courage to be able to do this myself, but I do because I know now, that just being quiet and walking away is not the best option for me. I stood up and told a man he had crossed the line in a subway recently, when he asked if, “I didn’t just dream about cock.”

I can’t begin to say how great it is with initiatives like these. Thank you for helping me finally be able to say no.

– Anonymous

This goes beyond the usual shouting and name-calling I’ve experienced before, and I’m still in shock about what happened.

On 13 October, I was walking on a street in the city centre of Brussels, Belgium, on my way to catch the tram. It was about 18:00 so still bright outside. A young man walking alone in the opposite direction to me brushed against my shoulder as we crossed paths and spat in my face.

He just walked on! He didn’t say anything!

I was completely shocked. I didn’t see his face, I didn’t even look at him, and I wish I had been able to react! After he walked on I turned to shout after him, but he totally ignored me and kept going. I felt completely violated and aggressed.

There were other people on the street at that time. Nobody stopped to ask me if I was ok. Nobody tried to stop the young man.

I tried to clean my face with a tissue, but was still in shock. About ten minutes later I completely broke down and had to call my husband. He came and took me home and helped clean me up and made some sweet tea for me.

I have never felt so aggressed on the streets of the city centre of Brussels. I have, sadly, often experienced street harassment here before (and not only in Brussels, in most places I’ve been). Shouting, name-calling, propositions, cars slowing down and honking etc. This was the first time something so physical happened.

Later that evening I joined some friends for dinner. I took the long journey by metro and tram to meet them just to avoid walking on the streets as much as possible. My friends shared their experiences of street harassment with me, and I am now totally fed up. When will this end? Why are women so disrespected?

I am so angry that women and girls suffer this in their daily lives. My husband suggested I buy a pepper spray bomb. This is not the solution. The solution is that this stops happening and women are comfortable walking through the streets of their home!

– Claire

Location: De Brouckère, Brussels, Belgium

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I was 21 and a college student. Having little money I always took the bus across town. Most of the time the other passengers ignored me and I ignored them. But one day, it was different.

A man at least twice my age kept trying to catch my eye. When I finally looked at him, thinking he wanted to ask me something, he winked at me and handed me a slip of paper with his phone number on it and some sort of comment on the lines of, “You’re hot! Call me!”

I looked back at him feeling creeped out and saw him grinning and leering at me. I said nothing to him and forced myself to stare out the window for the rest of the ride. I was frightened and embarrassed. I refused to look at him. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid that he might follow me, so when the bus came into the square downtown I fled the bus as fast as possible and ran for the nearest public building – a coffee shop. As I was sitting there, trying to calm down and make sense of what had happened, I looked at the slip of paper in my hands and felt a sudden wave of rage and humiliation. I crumpled it up and threw it as hard as I could into the nearest garbage can.

– Anonymous

Location: Cincinnati, OH

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