In a diverse part of town, near a diverse private university neighborhood, I was crossing a street and a couple of college-age looking guys yelled, “You faggot.”

I am a woman who is transgender and I felt really offended. First, I am a woman and the gender respective insult would have been “Dyke.”

Another time I was riding the subway. It was crowded and a guy was groping me from behind. Even though we bumped into each other beyond the moving of the train, he was doing more than what gravity and the movement of the train would naturally do.

In both these incidents I wasn’t wearing anything that would typically be provocative or revealing. I was dressed in pants and a plain top.

– Elizabeth G.

Location: Washington, D.C.

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I have never been the kind of girl that other women envy. I have never had a curvaceous figure, or particularly attractive looks. This is why I was so shocked when I was first harassed on the street. I was trick-or-treating with two of my female friends at the age of 15. It was about 9 o’clock, but we were in a quiet, mainly suburban area, and we weren’t worried about getting lost. We crossed a major street and walked in between a drugstore and an auto repair shop. We were headed to one of my friends’ houses, only a few blocks away. Since it was Halloween, we had all dressed up, me as the paper bag princess, and my friends as an angel and a Harry Potter character, respectively.

High on sugar and excitement, I didn’t notice the catcalls that were coming from the auto shop until my friend pointed them out. The men of the shop were smoking on the stoop, and a few of them had stood up and started to move towards us.

They said things like, “Hey there, pretty baby”, “Why don’t you come on over here and sit with me,” and the worst, “You sexy-a** bitches better get over here.”

We were all freaked out. Luckily, the men were most likely drunk, because they didn’t run after us as we hurried to the next street over, which was better lit and populated. My friend called her boyfriend to come and walk with us, and we stayed on the stoop of a well-lit house that was holding a sober party until he came to get us.

That night sticks with me, even now, because of the way that other people have responded when I told them about it. My male friends said that we should have known better, that wearing costumes is asking for attention.

That truly disgusted me. Is it really so acceptable for women to be harassed because they are celebrating a holiday?

My female friends and family said that we were stupid to be out that late, that we should have had a guy with us, and that we shouldn’t have called attention to ourselves. This made me feel even worse.

Is it really necessary in these modern times to have a watch-dog or guard on hand to prevent harassment?

– Anonymous

Location: Houston, Texas

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Quick news hit about street harassment in India via The Times of India:

“Girls suffer sexual harassment at almost all public places in the state capital. A majority of men, irrespective of their age do it for fun. This startling fact came out during the course of a survey conducted recently. A survey carried out by a group of students of National Law Institute University (NLIU), Bhopal, also revealed no one present around helps a victim in case she needs help at the time of incident. Worse still, when a victim goes to register a complaint, the police lob awkward questions her way…

A group of NLIU students carried out a project on sexual harassment in the city while doing an internship at Madhya Pradesh Human Rights Commission (MPHRC) recently….

Around 80 girl students of prestigious government educational institutes of the city, including Maulana Azad National Institute of Technology ( MANIT), Gandhi Medical College ( GMC), Institute for Excellence in Higher Education (IEHE) and Nutan girls PG College were asked to fill up a questionnaire for the purpose.

Based on the same, it came to light that close to 50% girls suffered sexual harassment at least once in every ten visits to their school or college. Girls also said they feel insecure irrespective of clothes they wear or the time they move out.

When I was twelve years old, I was a bit of a latchkey child and I didn’t have much to wear. I would sometimes wear a tank top of my older sister’s on hot days that I didn’t realize in my innocence was a bit tight and just a bit sheer. I was developing breasts and didn’t know how to handle them yet, and the tank top had built-in support that wasn’t quite adequate, but I didn’t know. I remember getting shouted at by men in cars on my way to school and feeling so ashamed and dirty, feeling like nothing I did was right, like I was being suffocated by this awful world.

I didn’t know how to dress, I didn’t have any options, and no matter what I did I was always being watched, watched, watched.

I have an hereditary problem with stomach pain, and sometimes I have to concentrate very hard in public because my stomach is hurting so badly. When I’m shouted at, I lose my concentration and the public harassment gives me physical pain. But I think perhaps that this physical pain is just a symptom of the stress that every single woman feels; they just don’t have the searing pain to alert them to it every time it happens. This stress builds and builds, in all women.

Most mornings, mostly because of the neighborhood I live in where men linger outside of stores it seems just to ogle the women going past, I still have an overwhelming feeling of suffocation when I decide what to wear. Can I wear a short dress if I wear leggings underneath, or will I still be shouted at or whispered at or addressed on the subway? Can I wear these shorts, or am I too curvy for them and will people get the wrong idea? I find myself hiding, every day.

But recently, I’ve had enough. I find myself gaining small victories. A young boy said, “Hey baby,” to me in the street. He was about twelve years old, the age I was when I started getting harassed.

I flipped around on him and scolded him, right there in the street in front of his friends. He was a child, and I just wasn’t taking it from a child.

Then, a few days later at a train station a man said, “Hello beautiful”. There were lots of people around, men and women, and police officers in the distance. (I’m not making police officers out to be white knights, but usually when they’re visible people tend to behave themselves better just in case.) I whipped around and simply said, “Excuse me?” and made him repeat what he said. Then I said it again. “Excuse me?” He started backing off, saying, “Alright, alright, lady.’

I said, “You don’t know me,” in such a withering way that he was visibly uncomfortable.

It felt so good, and I’m getting up the courage to speak out more, and in less safe situations. I really believe that we have to fight back, and we have to risk a bit of our safety to do so. It’s the only way any freedoms have ever been gained. It’s the only way they’ll listen.

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

Encourage women to speak up at any opportunity: if there is a crowd of people nearby, if there are police nearby, if you are in a group, speak out. Carry pepper spray to protect yourself, and rehearse a short phrase that you can say to an harasser to make your voice heard. No war has ever been won without risk or danger. We need to start believing in our freedom, our right to a place in society, above all else. It’s dangerous enough just walking after dark, and that isn’t going to change without brave souls willing to put themselves in the face of danger and shout it down.

– Sara

Location: Everywhere

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I have just come through the front door and straight to my macbook, this is the only thing I could think to do.

I am so mad. I feel powerless and this infuriates me further.

I just want to share this because I know reading the stories that others share makes me feel as though I’m not so alone when this happens.

I am a New Zealander and have been in California for a little over a month. Today I cycled in to the city with my hair out.

As far as I can see this is the only thing that made today any different. I will often tie it up because it seems to attract unwanted attention. This alone is a ridiculous thing and I’m a little ashamed to admit I do it. I went blonde 6 months ago and apparently being blonde means you’re handing out licenses to men in public to treat you even worse than before.

I had just said goodbye to my partner as he started work and walked all of 30 ft from him around a corner and a guy with a back-pack says, “You’re looking beautiful today.”

I say, “Thanks.”

My skin crawls but honestly, I hope that having responded politely is enough to make him keep walking.

“What’s your name?”

Damn. I keep walking.

“Hey, where you from? You got an accent” “Hey”

“You from England?”

I keep walking, it’s daylight, it’s public, as soon as I round this corner he’ll be gone. Safe.

Sure enough, he heads in the direction I came from and I keep on to where I’m going.

I pick up our bikes from a cafe a couple of blocks away and walk back to lock my partner’s bike up outside work for him before I head home. As I’m heading back to his workplace it occurs to me that this guy was heading in that direction but I think surely not. He’ll be gone by now.

No, sure enough there he is on the end of the block on a bike of his own as I round the corner.

I pretend I didn’t see him and walk to the bike lock and begin quickly shuffling the bikes into position, trying to get it done as quickly as possible. Hurrying, hoping it’s done before the creep makes it over.

Too late, he’s there sitting on his bike leaning on the power pole just in front of me. I’m trapped, I can’t seem to make the bikes fit because I’m starting to stress about the situation and he starts.

You know he’s gonna start and you know where this is going because being a woman means you’ve been here countless times before. Each time it makes me angrier. Each time I am more infuriated about the sense of powerlessness that this other human being can make me feel.

“Where you from? Hey where you from?”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re from here”

“No,” I reply, trying to sound annoyed and not fearful, “I’m from New Zealand.”

“I’ve been to Australia, you been to Australia?” “You like Australians?” “Hey you like Aussie boys?”

“No. What I’d like is to be left alone.”

Bike is locked and he cycles off. Thank god.

There’s an older couple (mid 60’s) less than 15ft from all of this, isn’t it weird that initially I felt a little embarrassed and that in my head I was hoping for their sake that he didn’t cause a scene?

In hindsight, why didn’t they say something? They were watching and it was clear that I didn’t know him. This guy was clearly harassing me and I couldn’t immediately get away from him.

The guy circles back and starts yelling at me, circling on the street on his bike

“F***ing bitch.” “F***ing kiwi bitch, huh? You f***ing kiwi bitch”

He pulls the fingers.

I pull them back and yell, “F*** off”

So angry now. What the hell could I have done to make that situation any better?

I look at the older couple and they’re glaring at me!?

Like I’m the one who’s somehow behaved inappropriately?

Sorry guys, polite, evidently, wasn’t getting the message across either. How about, “Are you okay?” or “That was so rude” or something, yeah?

My partner was just as angry as I was, “I’m so sorry that happened to you” “Where did he go?” “Are you okay?”

Still, as I cycle home I’m looking over my shoulder, worried that he’s going to follow me or see me again and get even more aggressive. Why should I have to bear the weight of feeling unsafe in a space I have a right to be in?

I read some really great stories of how people have retaliated and every time one of these situations occurs I always regret not having thought of something quicker! I wish I’d pulled my phone out and taken a photo of him or something.

And have others experienced the same frustration towards silent bystanders? ? ?

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

I truly believe that this issue needs to be taken more seriously by society. It should be talked about in schools, it should be campaigned about by government like drunk driving.

It’s interesting when you explain to someone that this kind of behavior is actually harassment and a violation of your human rights. There are a lot of people who simply haven’t thought of it that way. I find that you can usually see something change over and a real “oh yeah, it’s really wrong” moment happen. I remember when a close friend had me experience that moment, suddenly all of these horrible and uncomfortable memories since about age 9 made a lot more sense. They felt wrong because they were wrong. How can we make that happen globally!?

– Samantha R

Location: Palm Street, San Luis Obispo, CA

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