Dear Men,

As a straight, single woman, I love you guys.  I love your hairiness.  I love when you do rugged and manly things outdoors like setting stuff on fire.  I love how stoic you are, yet still get choked up when you watch the episode of Futurama about Fry’s dog.  Unfortunately, sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t love me—and other women, for that matter—back.  I’m talking about street harassment: whistles, catcalls, horn honks, etc.  Pretty much all those little things guys tend to do that you think are complimentary but are actually demeaning and frightening.

I can almost hear your arguments of rebuttal from here.  Believe me, I’ve heard many of them before: Women secretly like it…  It’s showing appreciation…  I’m just being nice…  Women are just too stuck up…  I don’t mind when women objectify me…

Gentlemen, as I said before, I like you.  A lot.  I’m sure there is one of you out there I’ll meet someday that I will love even.  So I’m going to let you in on a secret—a secret, insider, girls-only secret.  When you do those things, they do not make me feel attractive.  They do not make me feel like I would be safe in your muscular embrace.  They do not make me swoon in awe of your sexual prowess.

They do make me feel that you might be the type of person who would attack me and rape me, that you are a predator and I am your prey.  They make me feel like I should cross the street with my head turned away, eyes cast down in shame for daring to wear a skirt or dress or running shorts.  They make me see you as the type of goon Batman pulverizes without breaking a sweat.  They make me feel sick inside.  I’m pretty sure most women feel the same way (though truthfully I can speak only for myself).  If you care that much about us, then you should respect us enough to stop.  If you continue to harass women on the street, then you don’t really care about us; you care about your own selfish personal gratification.

I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that we are, for the most part, all adults here.  What separates men and women from boys and girls isn’t the number of years they have been alive or their ability to grow body hair, it’s their capacity to understand and respect each other.  Children are selfish because that is the only way they know how to be.  Their scope of life is limited.  Adults, however, have history.  We have baggage we carry with us whether we realize it or not.  All this baggage—the good and the bad—helps us to be unselfish and to see things from others’ perspectives.  A lack of mutual respect results in grown-up children: adults who still think only of their own immediate wants and desires.  When men fail to see things from women’s perspective, fail to listen to us, you are not behaving like men.  You are behaving like boys.

This brings me to my final point: how can men possibly understand women?  How can you possibly understand that we are not being too stuck up or overly sensitive when we object to street harassment?  Frankly, there is a very simple answer.  Allow me to share this story as an explanation:

It has become something of a tradition among my high school friends and me to gather periodically for movie marathons.  One of our most recent marathons was the Alien franchise.  I was particularly excited about this, as I had never seen any of these films before.  (As a side note, my final verdict: Alien and Aliens are perfectly awesome, three and four are negligible, Prometheus had its flaws but is overall pretty good.)  During the course of watching the first movie, my friends and I (three men, three women including me) got to talking about its underlying themes of rape and male violation.  Paul, one of the friends who hosts these get-togethers and who writes a movie review blog (Man of Constant Hatred), pointed out that the whole concept of the face-huggers—especially in the original when they first attack John Hurt’s character—illustrates sexual violation of men.  Think about it: the face-hugger surprises Hurt and latches itself over his face, specifically over his mouth.  It refuses to release him until after it has had its way with him, laying its eggs inside him—in other words, raping him.  This rape ultimately results in Hurt’s death.

Gentlemen, how do you feel when you watch this movie?  Uncomfortable?  Squicky?  What does make you feel that way?  I don’t know; I’m a woman.  I’m just trying to help you all put yourselves in our place.

I am not going to tell you that you need to get in touch with your feminine side or express your feelings more or anything like that.  All I can do is present my feelings and opinions on the matter.  It’s up to you to respect them, hopefully after taking a while to consider what real respect looks like.

Sincerely,

Emily C. Williams

Emily C. Williams is a middle-school English teacher and a writer of novels.  She holds degrees from the University of Mary Washington and the College of William and Mary.  She currently lives in Richmond, Virginia.

Alexandra Moran is a 20-year-old English Literature student from Birmingham, UK, with a passion for music and writing and a hope to become an English teacher and a writer one day. She wrote the poem “Bacon” about street harassment (see below for the transcript).

Her inspiration for writing it? 

She said, “After experiencing street harassment almost every day where I live and realising how commonplace it was becoming, with friends constantly tweeting about or discussing the fact people had been “creepy” to them whilst walking someone, it was starting to feel like we had all resigned ourselves to the fact this was just, unfortunately, becoming an everyday part of life as a female in a relatively urban area. However, when, one night, I was followed the whole way home by a car of guys slowing down and shouting things I realised that something had to change, it was something about the context of this – how dark it was and how empty the streets were, that made me more scared than usual and I found myself, as I sat at home shaking, wishing that the guys in the car could somehow realise how shaken up their “meaningless fun” had made me.

Two other key moments stuck with me when writing this poem, when, on discussion feminism and street harassment by mum actually told me she would be flattered to get beeped at by a car of males and also, whilst working a bar job, when a male co worker told me that a female customers who kept staring at them was making them feel uncomfortable. To my mum I say this is the furthest thing from flattery, and to my co worker -welcome to what life is like for the 21st century female.”

but A tCat call, curb crawl
cuz after all it doesn’t mean nothing to you at all.
But stares burn through, when you shout things too
to tell the truth, i’m scared of you.

And yes I quicken the pace
but A to B shouldn’t always be a race
and should it really be a breathless, achy sprint
and only then will you, sir, get the hint?

And if you think that you flatter me
you don’t know the last thing about flattery!
A compliment isn’t commenting on a nameless strangers behind
It’s not very gentlemanly I think you’ll find.

What would you do, if one night, I followed you?
Rolled down windows, testosterone seeps through
beeping the horn. you ignore me. I begin to shout
” Oi love, get your pecs out”
Oh sorry is this making you uncomfortable?
By the dim lit do you feel vulnerable?
I’ll signal you lewd sex acts,
get my girls to pitch in at the back
mob attack.
Oh .. you don’t respond to our hollers and shouts
Is there a closet you wanna step out?
Oh … you’re not gonna step over to our car tonight?
You must be really, really, really frigid , right?

Why quicken your pacer?
This isn’t a race.
We will follow you until our fun is through
because that is just what us girls in cars do.

It’s not just after dark, it’s daytime too
a “nice ass” in the morning should see you through
really i’m doing wonders for you
boosting your self esteem, it’s true
what do you mean i’m demeaning you?

You’re dressed for it, you must be aware?
With clothes like that i’m gonna stare.
Onesie, jeans, suit, underwear.
You wouldn’t dress like that if you had a care.

See how ridiculous this is.

Cat call, curb crawl
cuz afterall it doesnt mean nothing to you at all.

And yes this is quite a stir i’m making
but all I wanted was to go to the shops for some bacon.

In just one of, sadly, many incidents, I had been to my then boyfriend’s graduation in the middle of July and had already panicked about what to wear as I’d run out of clean clothes. I chose a coral coloured mini skirt, white vest and matching coral cardigan. The colours may have been bright but the look was quite smart. As we were walking down the street (me, my ex and his parents), I was subjected to a range of cat calls and slurs by two men stood outside a Burger King. My ex and his parents stayed silent throughout whilst I carried on walking, humiliated and heartbroken that nobody stood up for me. It was broad daylight and on a busy high street and I couldn’t believe it had happened when I was with a group of people.

I’d been used to it happening regularly whilst I was on my own but never expected it to happen in the UK whilst out with a boyfriend and his parents. Fortunately my current boyfriend isn’t so much of a coward and was horrified when I recounted this story. People need to know that this kind of behaviour is not acceptable in any circumstances and women shouldn’t need to feel vulnerable and ashamed whilst going about their daily lives.

Do you have any suggestions for dealing with harassers and/or ending street harassment in general?

– Anonymous

Location: Cardiff, UK

Share your street harassment story for the blog.

I’m a 21-year-old girl with a unique style. I have a funky hairstyle that I used to dyed blue, several piercings on my face and my outfits stand out. I also dislike wearing pants so it’s short skirts for me all the time (the length is max. a bit over knees) and I used to have a pet rat on my shoulder all the time so it’s safe to say I get a lot of attention when I’m on the street and I also live in a very small and closed-minded country.

So when I walk by, people stare and comment all the time. I really don’t mind them staring since it is a bit different and people stare when they see something they’re not used to. Sometimes, when I’m in a good mood, I even smile back. From time to time I even get some nice comments and questions about my style and about my rat which I always answer politely and I even feel happy about it.

However it’s not so pleasant all the time in fact my experiences are rarely pleasant. Since I’ve had this style for several years I ignore the dirty looks and I wear headphones most of the times so I don’t hear rude comments. I even used to tell rude guys that came up to me and called me names right in my face that I have a crazy skinhead boyfriend who fights a lot. I made that up but it made them leave me alone.

I get a lot of comments around Halloween because apparently people fell the need to tell me every year that Halloween was tomorrow/yesterday. I usually ignore those as well but I remember once I was already in a bad mood and I was walking down the street with my friend (she also has a different style) and a couple of guys drove by and one of them yelled from the car, “Hei!! Halloween was yesterday!” then I snapped as I was already in a bad mood and yelled back, “Guess what? I hear that every year! next time you want to yell at someone on the street at least make it original!”

The guy then had this shocked face and just rolled up the window of his car and drove away. This particular situation wasn’t so bad since in the end I told them what was on my mind and I hope that because of the shock they won’t do that ever again, but I do get mad about the whole idea in general. I could as well walk around and tell everyone that wears different clothes then me, “Oh nice costume but Halloween was yesterday!” and believe me sometimes I do think that of some outfits I see on the streets but I don’t because it’s rude and I have no business telling people what they should wear and I would appreciate the same.

Besides rude guys the most attention I get is from – you won’t believe me – old ladies. They always comment on how I’m dressed and how I look and once some old lady even yelled at me and my friends that god doesn’t love us because we were all wearing black. I thought that one was really rude even thought I’m an atheist.

My latest defense from old ladies is that I calmly and nicely tell them, “You know, you shouldn’t judge others because maybe next time someone else will judge you. Didn’t you read the Bible?”

When I say that I also start pointing up. That one always makes them quiet. Also you know what? Not everyone that wears black is a crazy satan worshiper who kills virgins in the name of the dark lord of hell, so please if you have a grandmother that doesn’t understand that please explain it to her because it’s really annoying and besides you can’t really go to police and say that an 80 year old woman harassed you on the street.

I do have many many stories but I really want to share the episode that happened a few months ago and was really one of the worst. I was on the bus on Sunday around 1 p.m. I slept over at my boyfriend’s place and I was wearing leggings and skirt and a hoodie also no makeup and my hair was in a ponytail so besides from piercings and a metal hoodie I looked quite “normal” because I really don’t get all dressed up just to go on bus. Also since it was Sunday the buses are usually empty. The ride is also around 40 minutes. I usually don’t take that bus but the one I do doesn’t drive on weekends. I didn’t know at the time but I found out pretty soon that it was a football game that day and the fans here are really famous for being totally nuts and fight a lot. Also the stadium is only a few stops away from where I live.

So back to the story: I was sitting on the seat for 2 people because as I said earlier buses are usually empty on Sundays so I was sitting on one seat and I had quite a big purse so I put it on the other seat but had a strap around my shoulders. I had my earplugs so I couldn’t really hear anything and I was sitting by the window and was looking out so I wasn’t really paying attention then when I felt something pulling and I look around and there was a guy sitting on my purse!

I thought that was really rude he couldn’t even, you know, poke me a bit so I could move it. So I pulled my purse put it on my knees and rolled my eyes. I really thought that was it and started looking out of the window again. Then I felt something hitting me in the arm every once in a while at first I thought it wasn’t on purpose so I just moved a bit more to the window but then it started more often and it was getting painful I figured out that he was hitting me with his elbow and also his girlfriend was the sitting on his lap and they were making out like inches away from my face and then they were yelling so even thought I had earplugs I could heard them and they really pushed me to the corner and totally invaded my personal space. So apparently they wanted to get me off my seat so they could sit there. I reacted after several minutes when my arm began to hurt because honestly I couldn’t believe that someone would be even doing something like that; I was so shocked.

I finally had enough and hit him with my elbow as hard as I could and took back my space. He totally freaked and started yelling what is wrong with me and he even looked me in face he was just inches away and he had the most psycho looking face I ever saw and he was really huge and I don’t even know how I got the courage to look him back with the pissed off look on my face and show no fear and tell him “what the f*** is wrong with you?” He then yelled, “I can’t even sit here anymore!” he pushed his girlfriend off she almost felt on the ground and then walked away. When he walked away my hand wouldn’t stop shaking and my arm was then red for several days I’m actually surprised that it didn’t bruise because my skin is really light and I get bruises really easy.

I only regret not telling the girlfriend that I she should be ashamed. If my boyfriend acted like that I would dump him on the spot. She even laughed at me. I bet that if he can easily hit girls on the bus because he wants to sit he’ll eventually start hitting his own girlfriend as well. I bet she won’t think it’s funny then. But I couldn’t really say anything to her because I was in shock and also I really didn’t want him to come back I could only act super brave for a while and I was there alone and even thought there was a bus filled with male football fans by that point none did anything. As I mentioned before these dudes are crazy and are always fighting among each other but apparently football is more reason to fight then if you see someone getting hurt. I’m not really the type of girl that wants to be saved by a big strong man but still come on!

I’m sorry for the society we live in where someone can just keep hitting on a bus with bunch of people and none does anything and I’m sorry for that girl. I really hope they broke up before she got hurt.

– Anja

Location: Ljubljana, Slovenia

Share your street harassment story for the blog.

I am currently 18 and like many others have experienced street harassment since becoming a teen. Because I work in a professional environment, I am required to wear skirts or dresses, which is often seen by others as a way of encouraging staring, inappropriate comments, and stalking.

Around the age of 15 I experienced one of the most offensive experiences in my young life. I was wearing heeled boots walking home when about 3 cars pulled over and honked at me, unsure of what to do I kept walking head high, as I turned the corner another car intercepted me waving a fan of money out his window, it so humiliating I never mentioned it to my parents.

Little did I know it was just the start of it.

Another incident that stands out it happened during lunch when my best friend and her boyfriend invited me out to eat, they both happened to be in Air Force uniform, that did not stop an older man from calling me “Baby” and then standing up and following me in an attempt to look under my dress.

The most recent incident was actually when my mother and I were at a store. Two men disgustedly continued to stare at me even when I and then my mom gave them the look. When I got home my dad blamed it on me for the way I was dressed….

That day was when I started looking up other similar experiences. I wanted to know I wasn’t the only one, I wanted to make sure it wasn’t my fault, I wanted to be sure that could keep buying my pretty dresses and doing my hair and makeup without feeling responsible for the perverted comments that were unwelcome and constantly thrown at me.

– Anonymous

Location: Not listed

Share your street harassment story for the blog.