By: Molly Redding, San Francisco, CA, USA, SSH Correspondent

I love Saturday mornings. No alarm, no obligations, and 48 hours of freedom to look forward to. After a large cup of coffee and some quality time with the San Francisco Chronicle online, I head outside to walk to my favorite yoga class.

I started walking to this class awhile back since other transportation options didn’t work, but now I’ve come to really enjoy it. After 8 years of residency I still love San Francisco as much as the day I moved, and this walk allows me to experience different neighborhoods and the richness of diversity that exists in this city.

But not this morning. As I made my way down to the gym, I walked down a street that isn’t part of my normal route, and spotted two men talking to one another. I feel like as a woman sometimes you sense these things are going to happen before they do. It must be a look or something you get that you just know, the next 30 seconds or so are just going to suck. You might take a second to hope you’re wrong, only to be proven right. Here’s what they said to one another as they leered at me:

“Hold on a second. I want to check out this pretty thing walking by.”

“Mmmmhmmm. That is nice.”

“Yes, those pants fit her WELL!”

They literally stopped their conversation so they could watch me walk by and comment. Their opinion of my body, my body,  was so pressing that they had to stop what they were doing just to express it. As I walked past and knew they were staring at my ass, I felt completely naked. I had an urge to cover my butt with my hands so they couldn’t stare at it, even though I knew that wouldn’t help.

In a flash, I felt the heat of shame rising to my face. At being leered at yes, but also at my reaction. I just kept walking. I’ve written an entire dissertation about street harassment., I write a monthly blog post, and I didn’t have a good comeback or witty comment? I know the dangers of taking action against harassers, but this was a bright Saturday morning with tons of people milling about. I felt like I had let everyone down, by not reacting quick enough, by not trying to stop it. If I, an anti-street harassment activist, can’t even react the right way when I get harassed in my own neighborhood, how can I preach to others to do the same?

As I crossed the street and made my way to the gym, I realized that by putting pressure on myself, I was only making the situation worse. Harassment is designed (whether harassers know it or not) to make the victim feel exposed, on display, ashamed. I could choose to feel that way, or I could choose to acknowledge my feelings of shame, anger and frustration,  recognize that we still have a lot of work to do, and go on my way. And so I did. I reclaimed the street by reclaiming my feelings, by not letting anyone monopolize what I think and how I feel.

I realize this won’t work in every situation. Trust me, I’m still disturbed by the guy who exposed himself to me outside my apartment as I was coming home from a wonderful night at my best friend’s wedding. Harassment is a form of trauma that can stay with us for a long time.

Luckily, I know I have a community that will share their stories and support me no matter how I react to a harasser. Writing my story helps, but so does just telling people around me – my roommate, coworkers, family. Sharing stories will not only help us heal, it will help the rest of the world know we won’t tolerate this behavior anymore. So keep sharing your stories!

Molly received a graduate degree in International Development and Gender from the London School of Economics in 2011, where her dissertation focused on websites allowing victims of harassment to post about their experiences. She has worked in the non-profit sector for over 10 years. You can follow her on Twitter, @perfeminist.

By: Gcobani Qambela, South Africa, SSH Correspondent

I recently read an interesting article in The Huffington Post titled “What We Wish People Would Say To Us On The Street”. The article covers the illustration by Norma Krautmeyer “which observes what people never say to women on the street.” This month I decided to talk to a small number of South Africans from across genders in various provinces in South Africa about the different ways they would like people to approach them in the street.

I believe street harassment in any form is unacceptable, but where necessary, how can men be better prepared to approach women in respectful and dignified ways in the street? What are the best ways to start a conversation with strangers across genders in a non-threatening way in the streets?

I spoke to gender activist and researcher, Rethabile Mashale, in Cape Town, in the Western Cape province of South Africa. She tells me that she has had her fair share of being subject to “catcalling and harassment” in the street. So what approach does she prefer when strangers, especially men approach her in the street? She says she has devised five basic alternatives. “The first is that a decent and genuine ‘hello’ and ‘how are you?’ which are followed by a genuine concern for whatever happens next” always work she says. Secondly she says “never lick your lips, or do a once over, over my body.

The person, thirdly, must look me in the eye instead of my tits” she continues. Fourthly she says while a clever joke can work, pick up lines are generally also unacceptable. She says lastly and mostly importantly “lead with getting my PERMISSION to engage in conversation, in fact, I would say that is the most important one” to get permission to talk and engage a person and quietly accept should she decline.

I also spoke to Amanda* in the province of KwaZulu-Natal. She told me she feels like street harassment is very degrading and that there is always a very “thin-line” between a stranger cracking a conversation and also at the same time harassing you. However the important distinction she made is that “Harassment is when I say ‘no’ and he doesn’t stop or if he feels the need to touch or say derogatory things to me.”

Tandokazi Mbopa, a university student in Port Elizabeth, in the Eastern Cape province, told me that she just does not want strangers approaching her in the street at all. This, she said, was born out of a horrible experience of being persistently harassed in the street. She told me that last year, she was walking and running late to school and a guy in a car kept hooting at her even though she ignored him. “He really didn’t get the hint ‘because he was driving next to me saying: ‘Oh, where are you going? Do you want a lift?’ as if I was going to get into that car after that hooting” she tells me.

Despite her declination to get into the car she says he refused to take a hint and kept driving slowly next to her saying, “Ooh, baby you’re hot. Baby you’re hot.”

“I felt like meat. The way he was looking at me. I was wearing track pants and a vest down to cover my butt… I wanted to change whatever was making him look at me like that and call me ‘sexy’” she tells me. “I don’t respect any guy approaching me on the street. I never will, unless if I’ve met you before – just not in the streets,” she concludes.

While these are only three interviews that I have included here, what emerged clearly from all the women I spoke to is that the key is consent and permission to approach and talk to women or anyone else in the street should be garnered clearly from the person who is being approached. If the women do not want to speak or engage then one should politely accept that. While Krautmeye’s illustration is encouraging, it is also important to remember that there are people with painful experiences like Tandokazi of dealing with harassers in the street even though the harassers probably thought they were saying something ‘nice’ to her. It is important therefore to treat even what appears to be ‘nice’ harassment with caution for it can also be traumatic for those on the receiving end. Consent and acceptance of a woman’s choice is thus critical in all cases, even if it appears that the guy is saying something that the woman would appreciate.

*The interviewee wished to remain anonymous.

Gcobani is completing his Masters in Medical Anthropology through Rhodes University, Grahamstown, South Africa. His research centres around issues of risk, responsibility and vulnerability amongst Xhosa men (and women) in a rural town in South Africa living in the context of HIV/AIDS. Follow him on Twitter, @GcobaniQambela.