About two or three times a week I walk 1.8 miles to my current work and then the same distance back a few hours later. And every time I make the walk, I always get at least one horn honk or one one greeting yelled out a car window. This isn’t an isolated incident.

And it isn’t always obvious harassment. A lot of the time it’s a man (or more men) offering me a ride. Would they still offer me that ride if I were a man? I doubt it.

I always ignore it. They’re in speeding cars most of the time anyway. If they’re in a stopped car and they keep shouting, it’s very easy to just pull out my ipod and play with it, making it clear that I can’t hear them because my music’s too loud. (I can hear them, but I’d rather not be expected to respond.)

The funny thing is nobody talks to me when I’m using my umbrella as a parasol in bright sunlight on dry days. No guy wants to hit on a girl who’s some weirdo using an umbrella when it isn’t even close to raining.

Every time it happens, I feel disgusted. I wish I could put on an unattractive body for my walks and take it off when I get to where I’m going. Why can’t I just take a goddamn walk? Why do these men feel the need to intrude on my peace? Why do they feel like it’s okay for somebody I’ve never met to yell things at me just because I’m there and I happen to be a woman?

I’ve been making that walk regularly for only a month and a half, and already car horns don’t make me jump anymore. How can they, when I hear them so often?

– Deborah N.

Location: Folsom Blvd, Rancho Cordova, CA

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This is the story of the one and only time I have felt like I came out on top when dealing with street harassment. It was a Saturday in September and the first warm day, the one that hints at summer coming, so lots of people were out enjoying it. To get where I was going I was walking past a business that has its beer garden on the corner of an intersection, and there was a group sitting out there enjoying the day.

Unfortunately, the way they were doing this, was two men stood up against the fence shouting at women, while their group – another man and two women howled with laughter. First they shouted at a woman in her 20s who stiffened and ignored them, then they shouted at a pair of early teen girls who huddled closer together and looked anxious, and then they had a go at me. The typical rubbish – “I want to fuck you!” and “Hey, c’mere! C’mere!” and “Hot legs!” At first I thought I’d ignore them too, but when they got no reaction they doubled their efforts, since no other women seemed to be walking closer down the road, “Hey bitch, when are we getting to fuck you? You can hear us! Hey bitch!”

Luckily, thanks to the Stop Street Harassment movement, I had a breakthrough at that moment. I *don’t* have to put up with it and I *don’t* have to ignore it, and for once it’s not cowardly people yelling at me from a moving car – they were sitting ducks. So I called the friend I was on my way to see and she googled the phone number for the pub the harassers were at. I called the pub and a kind, concerned man spoke to me. I told him what I had observed and what had happened to me. I was bracing myself to be brushed off or treated like I was overreacting, and instead he said, “I have been keeping an eye on them and it has been worrying me. Thank you for calling – that’s it, I will tell them to leave. Thank you for talking to us about it.”

I was bowled over. Totally bowled over. Thank you, male ally! Thank you, ally business! The Launceston Pizza Pub is now a place I think of as a safe zone, and I have made efforts to eat there a number of times afterward, knowing I’m supporting a business that treats people with respect.

– DM

Location: The Pizza Pub, 111 Wellington Street, Launceston, Tasmania, 7250

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I frequently have to get the train home from work at night, along a busy line that sometimes has drunks and other rowdy types. There are often situations where I feel unsafe as a solo woman (despite reassuring my boss that I’ll be fine and that I do this all the time) and the only reason that I don’t feel like a target is because I’m in my work uniform – a very unglamourous button up shirt, work pants, and steel cap boots. If I see guys leering at me or staring at me on the train, I always remind myself that if they touch me, I can give them a swift kick to the jewels with my boots. It sounds awful, but I won’t hesitate to protect myself if I need to.

– Anonymous

Location: Perth, Australia

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Wow! share my story hmmmm! for many years I have had a lot to say on this subject among close friends or just within my own thoughts. The start of my Street Harassment started around the age of ten.

I attended a private school for girls in Brooklyn, New York. Our class was on the way to Manhattan for a class trip. Unlike the public schools that had their own yellow buses for transport we had to take the New York Subway.  We were a class of at least 24 girls with one adult in charge, our teacher a Nun.

We marched lined up paired with a partner according to height. I was the tallest and for me most times I had no partner. This, I felt, left me more available for the wolves to harass.

At first it seemed that the comments were harmless. They came from older men that reminded me of a father or grandfather. Saying little comments like good morning, where are you going today, can I come with you.

But I wasn’t a clueless child. I was also a ten year old who was developed and was already wearing a bra. My early development added to the harassment.

I never liked their attention I was young but smart enough to know it wasn’t right. The things I was told or asked was purely sinful. Always annoyed, I hated to go on school trips if we had to use public transportation. Most of all I never told anyone not even my teacher.

The classmates that heard the comments, well some laughed it off and others paid no mind. The comments that came from those men were horrible for a ten year old girl to have to hear.

I remember wanted to scream at them and ask them,”How would feel if their own family member, their own daughter had to deal with this.”

I was forced to grow up very early because of this. This story was just the beginning of many experiences due to Street Harassment. No one should have to deal with Street Harassment, no one.

– HCH

Location: Brooklyn, New York

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