Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

Canada: Headphones Are a Woman’s Best Friend

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Photo via TheWip.net

By Terris Schneider, SSH Correspondent

I’m a total music nerd. Any time I step out from my apartment, my headphones are attached to my ears.

Then there was the week where I lost my headphones in a pile of all my stuff. Now I couldn’t listen to the 90’s One-Hit-Wonders station on Songza. Devastating. Even worse, that was the week where I discovered just how bad street harassment was in Vancouver because my headphones couldn’t protect me.

That particular week, I was cat-called by guys in cars on three separate occasions. The worst incident was when I was walking down my street and a group of men started grunting at me à la Tim the Tool Man Taylor. My instinct was to sprint down the street.

A couple weeks back, I went to a girl’s night with some of my lovely friends where we delved into the topic of street harassment. They all felt the same way that I did – they hated it, it was threatening to them, and they wished it would stop. Each one of them had a horrifying story to share too, unfortunately. And of course, there was the incident with my best friend last year. She was waiting at the bus stop at Richards and Hastings and a man looked at her and then pointed to his erection. She called me in horror, not sure what to do except get away.

What’s also disturbing to me is people’s laissez-faire attitude when it comes to street harassment. When you bring it up to certain people, they don’t really see the big deal. Unfortunately, it’s been burned into our brains that we have to accept street harassment, that it’s harmless, and that we should take it as flattering.

So what’s the deal with street harassment? (said in a Jerry Seinfeld-esque voice). Why should we stand against it? Here are a few thoughts of mine.

Threat of Rape

If we turned the tables on men and harassed them on the streets, there is little threat of rape to them from women. Plus, there are so many trauma victims roaming the streets day or night, suffering from hyper vigilance. The statistics in British Columbia are mind boggling: 1 in 2 women in B.C. will have experienced sexual assault or attempted sexual assault in their lifetime, and aboriginal women in Canada are five times for likely to be sexual assaulted than non-aboriginal women. Not to mention, a rape crisis center in Vancouver has a wait-list of 9 months for one-on-one trauma counseling.

Which brings me to my point, you don’t know who is going to feel really threatened and traumatized when being street harassed. That being said, victim or not, a woman should be able to walk down the street in peace without being harassed.

Harassment Turned Life Threatening

Earlier this month in Vancouver, a woman named Claudia Rylie was harassed on the SkyTrain when a guy took unwanted pictures of her. He then proceeded in stalking her down the street, making it one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. The Surrey police did nothing about it, but now the VPD is looking into it because it might be related to another sexual assault. You can read the story from VanCity Buzz to get a better idea.

What truly disturbs me is some of the comments left after this story. Mostly blaming the woman (shocker!) because she is an alleged sex worker, and claiming that she was doing the whole thing for attention. Yet another way to excuse rape culture. Notice, there is no one putting the blame on the harasser, who may have assaulted another person and was so creepy, that a woman followed Claudia from the SkyTrain to make sure she was okay.

Here are some of these disturbing comments (remind me never to read comment threads):

darkeclipseCollapse

fuck this girl she wants attention

Whistler

This woman is a thrill-seeker and getting readers riled up with this story is exactly the fuel she wants. She loves being photographed, but I’m sure usually for money. This has been a great promo for her line of sex work, and the VPD would also have her pegged immediately. A streetwise woman carries pepper spray, knows NOT to make contact with her stalker, and many other ways to be safe, like walk beside a stranger and explain what’s happening. A smart businesswoman would not publicize an incident like this, pleading for public sympathy. Claudia, there are video cameras throughout the transit system and you know it. I’ll bet there never was a man in black except in your fantasy.

But then there are awesome people like Kevin to give us some hope:

Kevin

And this is exactly the reason we have this problem is this mindset. Just because someone models or works in the sex industry as a professional does NOT mean it’s ok for them to be sexually harassed.

Thank God For Headphones

I’ve since found my headphones and will no doubt continue to use them as my security blanket against creeps. I wish I could live without them, but hopefully one day I can roam the streets fear-free if people finally start cluing into this stuff.

Terris is a professional wordsmith (freelance writer) based in Vancouver, BC, Canada. You can read more of her work on her blog, or follow her on Twitter and Facebook. 

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“These guys were prevented from groping passengers”

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I’m a middle-aged man who lives in Antwerp, Belgium (EU). Today I experienced first-hand what street harassment is all about and it’s an ugly experience.

Coming of my commuter train at about 7:30 PM accompanied by a female colleague we entered an elevator with an odd 10 other people, to bring us up to street level.

When we wanted to get out of the elevator four brash youths aged between 15-17 years old were waiting for the elevator, and were standing in the doorway pressing themselves in against the flow as all passengers were pressing to get out of the elevator so that people had to press trough them. Together with a male colleagues we told the youths to get out of the doorway and reprimanded them on their behaviour. One of the youths addressed very improperly our female colleague and again we intervened.

The youths made lots of noise and were insulting us when suddenly one of them attacked me. However he hit his nose onto my fist so as he darted back he undid his belt to attack me again. In the meantime security guards had shown up that herded them away from us. They kept shouting abuse. Until the police showed up and they legged it.

I was lucky security staff were quickly on the scene, and my female colleague wasn’t too shocked about the matter, but this could have turned nasty.

I’m sure these guys were prevented from groping passengers in the doorway, perhaps stealing a wallet, which is why they made such a fuss.

– Derek

Location: Antwerp, Belgium

 

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“It’s forty years later and I’m still planning escape routes”

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This is cross-posted with permission from author Beckie Weinheimer’s blog.

A few weeks ago when I was walking near my apartment in the well lit bike trail in Forest Hills Park, in Kew Gardens, Queens, NYC, a slight boy of maybe 15, dressed in nice school clothes, carrying a typical school backpack tapped on my shoulder a little after dusk, and interrupted my tranquil walk with an, “Excuse me ma’am.”

I took out my headphones and paused the audio book I was listening to. “Yes?” I thought he probably needed directions, or needed to borrow my phone to call a parent to pick him up.

The very last thing I expected was what followed. “Will you give me a blow job?”

I stood back, frowned, sure I had misunderstood. “What?” I asked.

“Please, Ma’am can you give me a blow job?” This kid, shorter than me repeated. He looked scared. Desperate.

“Please?”

I was horrified. “No. I. Will. Not.” I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. “You better leave right now or I will call the police and take your picture and post it on line. Do you want that?”

He took steps backwards still facing me. “Leave.” I pointed. “Go.”

And he did.

Of course the rest of my walk was ruined. I wasn’t frightened. I could have taken on this kid. And I was close to the road and cars and people. But I was upset.

As I walked home, I called my daughter. The more we talked, the more I decided, this kid was being initiated, given a dare, and perhaps he was more frightened of the guys waiting in the bushes than he was of me. I actually began to feel badly for him. I even said a prayer to the universe asking that this kid wouldn’t get beaten up just because I said no. But what kind of universe do we live in, when this is initiation, or bullying? And why is it that so many males see nothing wrong harassing an unknown female they come across in public?

A few days later, I was dressed to the hilt, faux ankle length fur coat, dressy boots, nice jewelery, walking in Manhattan with my husband on Fifth Avenue heading toward a concert of Handel’s Messiah. As we walked and talked a street vender we were passing called out to us, “You have a beautiful wife, sir.” My husband and I were in the middle of a conversation and he didn’t even blink. I stopped several feet past the vendor and faced my husband. “Did you just hear that man? That was street harassment.”

“He just wanted to sell us something,” my husband replied. And then went on with our conversation.

“Are you not hearing me?” I stood in front of him so he couldn’t walk. “That is street harassment. He is objectifying me. He didn’t say, ‘Ma’am what a fine looking husband you have there,’ did he?”

And my husband, who is a strong male ally, a suporter of equal rights for women, and wants to stop street harassment, finally got it. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I’ve heard men say, “I’d be happy if a female stopped to tell me I was good looking.” But because that rarely if ever happens, and it almost never turns into something more dangerous, like groping or rape, they have no clue. Really no clue.

Fast forward to this morning. I find myself in Palm Beach, Florida. Its beautiful. My husband and I drove to the beach at sunrise. He ran on the sidewalk above the beach, I walked barefoot on the sand letting the crashing waves wash over my feet. I walked past the public beach to the un-lifeguarded beach where the road above is so high up that there is a 25 ft cement retaining wall, with steps down every so often from the private homes above. I was walking along enjoying the waves, the sun dancing on the navy blue water of early morning when I felt more than heard something. I was alone on the beach. I looked up to the wall, and there at the top of one of the stairways stood a man. He stared down at me. He waved. I looked around. Totally alone. Not another person in sight.  I had two choices. One turn around and race down the sand the five or ten minutes it would take to the public more populated beach. Two, I could jump into the water.

Should I try to save my iphone in my pocket or just race into the water? I knew the water was my best option. The man still watching me was fully clothed, long pants, shoes and a hoodie, all things that would weight him down in the water. I was dressed in only a tank top and shorts. The waves were wild. I am an avid swimmer, but I’ve had a few close calls in tidal waters with undertow and waves, so I had opted for a walk rather than a swim this morning. But the thought of that man coming for me, alone on the sand, was much more scary than the thought of plunging into the ripping ferocious waves.

In the end the man didn’t come down. Maybe the rod iron gate he stood at was locked. Maybe he too was simply out enjoying the sunrise and waved to be friendly.

The point is I didn’t know.

The point is females never do know when it will escalate.

My husband, running on the street above had no clue. He never will know the fear most of us females who dare to walk alone face every single day.  He doesn’t have to plan escape routes whenever he ventures off the beaten path. I envy him and every other male that privilege. I hate it that I have to plan. I hate it that because a man waved to me my calm morning was sent into a frenzy.

Because yes, in my past, once on a quiet morning when I was fourteen, and a boy from my high school who I only knew by sight asked if he could walk with me on the shortcut through the fields to school tried to rape me. I didn’t have an escape plan that day, but I shoved him away as he reached around me and unzipped my dress. I shoved him and ran-the fastest run of my life.

I ran for three minutes, through sagebrush that scratched at my legs, over boulders and stones and finally skid down a steep grassy hill wet with morning dew where a neighborhood began. People were out walking their dogs and up retrieving their morning papers. Lovely, wonderful people. Gasping for air I turned back to see him at the top of the hill bent over hands on knees watching me and gasping for air too.

It never occurred to me to tell one of these blessed strangers what had just happened or to call the police. I told my mother that night. She said, “But you got away, you are fine.”

And that was the thought in that day and age. In today’s world I know my mother would call the police, call the school, fight for me. But back then we as women had so little voice to speak out.

It’s forty years later and I’m still planning escape routes. Still on the watch for a stray male who may be eying me. People who say a strange man complimenting a woman in public is nothing, haven’t had a past like mine, or sadly like most females.

I will always be planning an escape route. I’ve taught my daughters to plan for their safety in public places. My hope is that one day that if l have a grand daughter maybe she will be able to walk off the beaten path without fear, without planning an escape route. Maybe things will change. I believe they can change if we continue to share our stories, to support each other and to stand up to harassers when safety allows.

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“Going to work has become very hard for me”

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I am a 20 year old girl and street harassment is very common in our country. I have been verbally harassed and followed several times within the last 2-4 years. Recently I have been noticing a strange man on my way to work who rides by me every morning and turns back to stare at me. I see him when I go back to work after lunch and he is near my home when I come back after I’m done.

This has been making me very nervous and scared. I always imagine the worst. Once he came into my apartment building and went upstairs but I’m sure he doesn’t live in my building. I feel like he is trying to learn my usual surroundings. I don’t want to get out of the house unless it’s work. Even going to work has become very hard for me because every time I see him my hands start shaking. It scares me so much because rape has become very common in my country.

I have told as many people I can about this. Right now I’m trying to point this man out for my family. I just want somebody to scare this man off because I feel like I’m being watched even when I’m at home.

– Anonymous

Location: Maldives

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“The man that harassed me got arrested”

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I was going to the gas station when a black man noticed I had on a redskins coat, and he commented that he was a cowboy fan. I was polite and kept it moving.

This man was on his way out of the gas station, he followed me back into the gas station and asked me out. I told him I was married.

This crazy person then started talking jibberish about giving him a chance. I rushed out of the gas station and this fool followed me and he was still harassing me. I RAN to my car. I sped off in my car and this fool followed me and threw something at my car. Fortunately there was a police precinct close by. I immediately reported this loser.

Just because I am a black woman does not give a black man I do not know the right to harass me. I did not know this man and I did not owe him anything. I take good care of myself and I have a nice shape, and unfortunately I deal with harassment from Black men on a regular basis.

I believe these men think that just because we are members of the same race that they have a right to us. I honestly believe that a lot of these men feel dis-empowered in all aspects of their lives, but think they have power over black women and a right to harass Black women, but no one owes them anything. I don’t owe a damn thing to a person I do not know and it is a shame that I have grown afraid of Black male strangers in public settings.

I’m sorry, but I am going to keep it real: (1) I am a lawyer and don’t want anything to do with an unemployed man that harasses women on the street and (2) I am married to a hard working black man that treats me well.

Something has to be done about this harassment. The man that harassed me got arrested. Black women, keep cell phones on you and start reporting these fools to the cops. If enough of us do this, perhaps we can assist in giving a message that enough is enough.

– Anonymous

Location: East Capital Street, Exon, Northeast Washington, DC

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