As I passed two guys on the sidewalk, one started to shout, “Giddy up!” repeatedly. I found it really unpleasant, but I didn’t say anything at the time.

A little later, I was walking back that way and I asked the man whether he’d been shouting that at me. He had, but said he was “only joking”, which is a pathetic excuse, but he also said twice that he was “really sorry”. I was pleased to think he’d realized that it had been unpleasant for me—but that was just wishful thinking on my part, as he followed up the second apology almost immediately by asking, “Can I have a kiss?”

I was furious and swore at him as I walked off, but he just kept on screaming, “Can I have a kiss?” after me, over and over again. Once I was about half a block away he resorted to ear-piercing whistles instead.

Another guy, walking by me, remarked that I shouldn’t take any notice of him, that he was just a jerk. It wasn’t the ideal response, but I still appreciated the sentiment. I just wish decent men like that would publicly call out the harasser instead.

I’m 35 years old and 6’1″, and I’ve been cat called with varying frequency for 20 or so years, but these very explicit exercises of male power over me still make me feel intensely frustrated, unsettled, and belittled. I so wish there was something, anything I could do in the moment that would shift the power dynamic in these situations, so that I wasn’t left feeling so damn powerless.

– Monique

Location: 110th St. and Lexington Ave., New York, NY

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I would love to get home from work in peace. Today I walked to bus stop, and this man was standing right in the middle of the path that I usually take, ranting and raving while smoking a cigarette. I was having an out of sorts day and I didn’t want to engage him. I originally considered walking all away around and out of my way to get to the bus stop, but I shouldn’t have to inconvenience myself. So I steeled myself and walked past him while he was rambling on about junk to his friends.

The bus finally came after about 10 minutes, and as I went to board it I hear, “‘Scuse me, sweetie! Psst! You dropped something! You dropped something!” He would not stop saying “You dropped something!”, but I knew I didn’t. All my things were accounted for. The “You dropped something!” crap is the oldest harasser trick in the book. Had I really dropped something, he would’ve specified what it was. I chose to ignore him.

“You dropped something…your behind!” he said, and he and his friends started laughing. I dropped my behind?! That makes no damn sense. I knew that it was a ploy to get my attention and was glad I trusted my instincts.

I boarded the bus, but I didn’t want to leave the scene without calling him out. I opened the window, and yelled, “HEY, THE GUY WHO SAID I DROPPED SOMETHING? STOP HARASSING WOMEN!” I then snapped his photo.

He and his friends just laughed, and the guy bent over and shook his butt at me. Ew. That was something that I did not want to get a shot of.

I then took another photo, and yelled, “STOP HARASSING WOMEN! SHOW SOME RESPECT!” I closed the window, and the bus drove off.

I had a previous incident with street harassment in the same location (story here), but I’m not sure if these were the same people involved. This area tends to attract sketchy men who don’t know how to leave women alone, but their presence won’t make me change where I take the bus. They need to change their ways, not me.

The guy standing in the blue shirt is the harasser, and sad to say, one of his friends being entertained by his antics is a woman. I wonder how she’d feel if she were the recipient of unwanted attention, but of course it’s funny to her because she’s not the target of it at the moment! Sigh.

– Anonymous

Location: McPherson Square (Washington, DC)

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I have been a victim of this for a very long time. I have had to leave town only to have this issue follow me. I have had guys to yell out very explicit things to me and call me derogatory names. I’ve had them invade my personal space and make kissing noises and when I told them to go away they wouldn’t. They just would continue and the public doesn’t respond to it very well. The police also don’t take it seriously.

– Anonymous

Location: on the bus, standing at a bus stop, walking down the streets

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When I lived in Old Hull (Quebec, Canada), I experienced a lot of street harassment. In the summer, it was a nightly occurrence. It became normal to me. I realize that there is prostitution there. The only time it bothered me was when I was threatened or followed. This was one of those times —

I worked 3 to 11 p.m. in the east end of Ottawa and took the bus home. I would get back to Hull around midnight every night. I would have to walk from Promenade du Portage and Eddy Street to Charlevoix. It was no surprise that when I began my walk home that some guy shouted, ‘Hey, you working?” I ignored it and continued working. I heard the same voice. “Hey bitch, you working?” I turned my head and saw four men in a car. I yelled, “NO” and walked faster.

They drove off. I thought they left. They just circled the block and approached me again. “Wanna party with us?” I yelled “NO.” They drove away again. I hope that they were going to leave me alone. I felt frightened and unsure what I would do if they stopped the car. How could I defend myself against four men?

They came back. This is the basic conversation that followed, “Why don’t you wanna party with us?”
“I don’t know you.”
“So what we just wanna have some fun?”
“I’m not going to get into a car with four men that I don’t know.”

This is when they stopped the car. One of the opened the back passenger door and yelled, “Get in the car b***h.” I was terrified. I froze. I screamed, “NO!” They left again. I walked even faster. Then I started to run. I thought they finally left. I turned left onto Charlevoix. That’s when the car reappeared. They stopped again. Again there was an argument.

“What’s your problem? Just get in the car!” Again I say that I am not getting in the car and would just like to be left alone.

“Well we aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a loud mouth b***h.”

I said “You’re right I’m a loud mouth b***h.” I then began screaming, “I bet that I’m so loud that the cop at the lights can hear me.”

“We ain’t doing nothing wrong b***h.”

“Tell it to the cop.”

They left. I could feel my bones shake, but I made it home safely.

I have had many reactions to this story. Many reactions were to blame me.

One woman behaved as though I should be ashamed. “Oh my god, I hope that you don’t tell this story to anyone?”

Many questioned me. “What were you wearing? Why were walking alone? Why were you walking at night? Only w****s walk alone, especially at night”

Some even blamed where I lived. “What do expect living there? If you want respect, move to a good neighborhood. You can’t blame those poor boys. All the broads in Hull are either selling it or giving it away. Why else would anyone go to Hull?”

When I was asked “what I expected?”, I answered, “I expect to be treated with respect. This being failed, I expect people to F*** OFF the first time I tell them.”

– Jennifer

Location: Eddy Street, Gatineau, Quebec, Canada

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