Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

“Stand up against the harasser with words”

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Every morning for the last week as I’ve gone to class this guy has stood outside this drive thru burger place and made comments and disgusting noises whenever I walk by. Normally I’ve been able to dismiss it because I am not letting him decide what street I should take to get to school.

Today after class I saw him on my way home and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I walked by while he was talking to a guy about another girl that passed by. He then said, “Ooh but I like this oneʺ and proceeded to touch my arm. Him being comfortable touching strange women is way out of line.

I immediately said loudly, ʺDon’t touch meʺ. He acted annoyed and put his arms up as if he didn’t know what I was angry about so I added, ʺGet the fk away from me.ʺ I heard him walking behind me but luckily another guy that was walking behind me started to walk next to me. He asked me if I wanted him to walk next to me for a couple blocks and I did.

The harasser made me incredibly angry. I was so angry, that tears started to fall down my face. I immediately thought of the next days to come and if I would get into trouble macing him because I’m sure I’ll see him again and he doesn’t seem like the type to stop all of a sudden. I’m angry and scared at the same time. But I’m also stubborn. So I’ll be walking with my mace in my hand in my pocket for a very long time.

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

Educate that catcalling is harassment and should not be done, nor tolerated. If you see someone being harassed, make sure the victim is OK (like this nice stranger did for me). Stand up against the harasser with words. Never violence.

– Anonymous

Location: In front of Dick’s on Broadway, Capitol Hill, Seattle and in front of Rite Aid, Capitol Hill, Seattle, WA

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See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

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“I was so humiliated”

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Hi!
I just want to share my street harassment story. It was the end of my shift, exactly 5:30 when I arrived at the terminal. It was a Friday so I was already expecting that lots of people would be dying to ride a bus, since we have limited buses only. There is one baby bus but if it’s already full, it is your choice if you wanna ride- but standing, or you’ll fall in line and wait for the next one.

Since I was very eager and excited to go home, I just chose to stand up and ride that bus. I was in the middle of the aisle when the driver and the bus ticket collector advised me to go near the driver’s seat because many people would be standing and I might be uncomfortable if many men would surround me. Thinking that it was an act of concern, I went near the driver’s seat and stood up there. Suddenly, I heard the ticket collector talking to a man, looking at me. And then he said, ʺAsawa ho ng dirver yang nakatayo/ The woman standing is the driver’s wife,ʺ I was so humiliated because everybody looked at me. The driver is almost 50 years old, and I’m just 20. I looked at the ticket collector with a dim face, trying to compose myself. He looked at me, shaking his head and smiling. I took my phone, I acted like I was calling my boyfriend, just to somehow let them know that I’d be calling someone. He backed off. And then I talked to them ʺKuya, mahiya po kayo sa balat nyo.ʺ And then bumaba na ako. I felt so humiliated.

– Anonymous

Location: Coastal Mall/ Bus Terminal, Philippines

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See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

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“I felt pretty anxious for the rest of the day”

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The other day I went to go get something to eat with my friends after class and after we finished we started walking back to my friend’s house. They both bike to and from school so they were together about 50 yards ahead of me. We took a shortcut through the park and my friends decided to go ahead of me a little bit (about 200 yards). I saw them bike past a group of about 7 or 8 guys from my school who were sitting on both sides of the path. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I wanted to avoid walking past them alone (not a great decision) so I just walked right between them. This one guy had a mouthful of water and ʺpukedʺ all over the path and my leg and his friend was laughing and patting him on the back. I continued to walk and one guy called ʺthat booty tho’!ʺ to me and they all just started cracking up.

Personally, this was my first catcalling experience and I’m honestly very surprised about how calmly I reacted. I just kept a straight face and walked away and did not react. I didn’t want to give them any ammunition to use against me. I’m still slightly shaken up from it even though I know this is much less worse than what some other people experience regularly, but I know I’m not the one to blame and I keep telling myself that. I just really hope this never happens again because I get very easily scared and I felt pretty anxious for the rest of the day. I considered momentarily to change the way I dress to protect myself but I immediately realized I shouldn’t have to change my personality or the way I express myself to feel safe in a situation like this.

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

Always stick with a friend that can help you in an uncomfortable position or go to someone trustworthy who can help you and discourage young people from catcalling.

– Anonymous

Location: Berkeley, CA

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See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

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“I was harassed here. No one helped me. Don’t stand by. Stand up.”

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Alicia Wallace, the Bahamas, Former SSH Blog Correspondent

Riverside – via Seizing Our Destiny

It can be tough to explain to people that street harassment, though normalized, is not normal, and the practice is not linked to the culture of any country. It happens everywhere, and affects a broad spectrum of people.

Street harassment looks, sounds, and feels different depending on identity, location, time of day, and any number of other factors. The harassment I experience on a daily basis in Nassau is unlike harassment in any other place I’ve visited. I’m accustomed to the go-to names, phrases, and gestures of people in my city, but placed in an unfamiliar city, I don’t know what to expect, or how to respond. Language barriers prevent me from making assessments with the same accuracy as when I completely understand what is being said. Having limited knowledge of a place can be disempowering, changing the way I respond to harassment.

A few months ago, I went to Los Angeles for a conference. I was on a tight budget, so I stayed about 90 minutes away from the conference location and spent a lot of time walking and using public transportation. My experiences of harassment were less frequent than in Nassau, but put me on edge. I constantly thought about how desolate the bus stop near my hostel looked and felt at six o’clock every morning, and the fact that I couldn’t change my routine. Harassers could easily determine my routine the next day – or night – and find me there, alone and vulnerable. I thought about the long wait I had, every night, on the bus stop near the conference location. It didn’t get much pedestrian traffic, so even in the dark of night, I felt safer there than I did at the one near the hostel.

After the conference, I decided to visit a friend in Riverside. Everything I’d heard about Riverside suggested that it was pretty quiet, conservative, and, quite possibly, boring. I was fully prepared to wander around, aimlessly walking up and down streets, peeking into small stores, and hanging around the university area. I found that most people kept to themselves, not really bothering to pay much attention to anyone else. I was quite confident that I was in a relatively harassment-free zone. That changed on my birthday, when I decided to venture out a little further. I had to go through the main public transit hub.

As I made my way from a bus stop to the hub, I approached a group of middle-aged women who were hanging around a food truck. One was laughing and talking with the person in the truck, and the other women sat on the ground with their backs against a building on the other side of the sidewalk. As I got closer, the woman by the truck turned to face me, and looked me up and down repeatedly. She spoke rapidly in another language to the other women, making broad gestures toward me. As I walked between her and the other women, she turned the sidewalk into a catwalk. She kept saying things like, “That is nice!” and “You are so sexy!” For the first time, I felt conflicted about my response. This was a woman, clearly my senior, telling me she loved my ensemble, but what about all the other things she said? Should I smile? Say “thank you”? Pick up my pace? I didn’t know what to do, so I did all three. Even when I was well past her, she kept calling after me. It felt odd and uncomfortable.

Just when I started to feel a bit less weird, I approached a group of men in their early thirties, offloading a truck. They stopped to hoot and holler at me. Never before have I had to walk through the people who make me feel uncomfortable and at-risk of sexual assault. Generally, I can safely cross the street at any point in Nassau, but bigger cities don’t give that option. The only way was through, and I made it.

It was another twenty steps before I got to the main hub where a man in his twenties kept asking me for my number, where I’m from-from, and if he could go with me. It didn’t take long to shake him. I quick-walked to the furthest end of the station and sat on an empty bench. I put my earphones in and played an audio book.

Within a few minutes, another man – approximately 40 years old – came to the bench where I sat alone. He talked at me for about five minutes before he got angry. He aggressively questioned me about my reasons for not responding to him. He asked me if he was too ugly, or if I thought I was too good for him. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that I thought he had no money. He took out his wallet, crumpled up bills and threw them at me. He pelted me with money as no less than a dozen people looked on, silently.

In Nassau, I would have read him the riot act. I would have addressed that crowd, and told them they had just witnessed assault. I would have explained to them that they perpetuated that act of violence against me by remaining silent. I would have told them what it means to be a good bystander. I would have told that man that he should have been ashamed of himself, and that I am not object for sale. I am not a problem he could literally throw money at to solve or dissolve. Because I was in Riverside – a city I really didn’t know – and an area I had not explored before, I did none of these things. I didn’t know the culture of the place or its people. I didn’t know where the nearest police station was. I didn’t know how to call for help with internationally roaming. I was a sitting duck – the perfect target for street harassment. It was later that day that I returned to the spot with chalk. “I was harassed here. No one helped me. Don’t stand by. Stand up.”

Street harassment is a reality in every part of world, and there’s no way to identify potential harassers. They can be of any gender, race, or age, and could speak any language. They could feel deprived or entitled. They can talk at you and let you walk on, or may want to escalate the situation, causing you physical harm or public shame. These things can’t be predicted, especially if you’re in an unfamiliar space. While it’s empowering to respond, it’s important for people experiencing harassment to be mindful of cultural differences, deficiencies in knowledge of a place or people, and overall safety. Sometimes the safest thing we can do is walk away. We can always hollaback later.

Alicia is a freelance writer and public educator in Nassau, Bahamas. You can connect with her on Twitter (@_AliciaAudrey and on her blog.

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“I thought it was normal to feel unsafe”

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I am 48 years old now, I lived through one attempt of rape when I was 15, four men showing me their private parts (once in the train, once when I went home on my bike and two times when I was horse riding in the woods), three men grabbing and touching me in shops and bars. And probably a hundred times of being yelled at, hissed at, asked for my phone number, and comments about my tits etc. etc… the more ʺmildlyʺ stuff. 🙁

When I was young I thought it was normal to feel unsafe. It didn’t occur to me that it is not normal at all, but it is. I have three daughters, it is hard to explain why men behave like they do. That you cannot feel safe and you have to be careful not to give them an excuse to harass you, because they will and they will probably get away with it.

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

I think we have to make men aware of the fact that a woman always needs to be careful around them and feels they cannot be trusted. That we feel unsafe if we are in an alone situation with them, every woman feels it! And not without reasons.

– Jill Kramer

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for more idea

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