Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

“I was so afraid he would follow me home that I hid in a cemetery for a good hour”

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I was walking on the street around where I lived, wearing my favourite summer dress when this man in a car came out of traffic and pulled up right in front of me. He pulled down his window, smiling and asking me things about myself. He even held my hand, which really started to scare me. Luckily he went away since I didn’t give him any real information, and these two older men watched the whole thing happen. They consoled me afterwards, saying that was downright creepy what that man did.

The man continued to follow me in his car, but the two men who were with me continued to give him dirty looks.

I was so afraid he would follow me home that I hid in a cemetery for a good hour. I’m very angry from this encounter because now every time I want to wear a normal looking sundress or anything eccentric, I immediately think “will that incident happen again?”

I also hate that I have to ignore people who stop me on the street who just simply need help. I was blaming myself for being so trusting, but now I’m thinking maybe it wasn’t my fault at all.

– Anonymous

Location: Montreal, Quebec, Canada

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“There should be fines for this kind of public harassment”

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Just today two men made disgusting kissy noises at my younger sister and I. On countless other occasions random men have yelled at me about many different parts of my body, told me to go to the gym when i weighed more, told me i was too skinny when i weighed less, told me to smile, masturbated in front of me, etc

Women have the right to walk down the street without being objectified or otherwise verbally judged – favourably or not – on our appearance or anything else.

There should be fines for this kind of public harassment and women should know that we do not have to silently ignore all of the random verbal sexual abuse that we are accustomed to enduring everyday.

Thank you for creating this site!

– Anonymous

Location: Toronto, Canada

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“Mmm Do you like milk? I know I do”

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I am walking to the grocery store in Plymouth UK. Walking up a hill, mind you, wearing a black sweater (jumper) zipped up to my neck. Long black pants and a scarf. As I am walking three guys walk past me and they said loudly, “Mmm Do you like milk? I know I do” about my breasts.

The only way I can make them smaller is if I bind them.

How is this my fault?

They were drunk and that is not an excuse.

I am sick of feeling scared to go out after dark even in the company of my boyfriend in this town.

– Jacqueline

Location: Plymouth, UK

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“You changed your mind about the bus? I was coming back for you!”

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“Standing at the bus stop in the middle of 51st st, i must really look like the rose that grew from concrete. Ninjas in cars ninjas on corners say things meant to pass for compliments. I wonder would they know what to do with a garden or would they snatch and pluck the petals cuz they aint had nuthin nice before.”

That was my Facebook status last Saturday. I wasn’t wearing anything low cut, tight fitting, “inviting”, nor was I naked, but somehow I ended up feeling totally exposed.

I’m not the thickest crayon in the box or the most gorgeous of them all mirror on the wall, but sometimes–like when I’m standing at the bus stop with men yelling and honking from their cars, or watching me from across street corners and the bus conveniently decides to run beyond behind schedule–I wish I was a little more unpretty.

The other day, I asked a friend of mine for a ride because I was wearing make up that day and told him that it wasn’t a good idea for me to be on public transportation and traveling on foot around my neighborhood looking too cute. I think he may have thought I was joking, but I was serious.

I have no problem with compliments, or even a SHORT lustful glance, but with some men it doesn’t stop there. Some will circle the block…walk with (err, follow?) you…stand with you…invade your personal space while engaging in unwarranted conversation.

I remember being a little girl and ignoring the cat calls while I was walking to the store or out playing. It only takes so many times of hearing, “Well f**k you then!” or “B***h!” before you figure out that maybe ignoring the problem won’t make it go away. I learned to speak and be friendly (because God forbid my lack of acknowledgment be misconstrued as an overall dismissal of the BLACK MAN and I am the ANGRY BLACK WOMAN, oh no).

But even in speaking, extending that common courtesy of speaking when spoken to is sometimes interpreted as an invitation. I just want to get on the bus, man. I just want to get where I’m going and look how I look. And I want that to be okay. Even dressing “down” isn’t enough. I’d have to dress down to looking like a crackhead, I suppose.

Walking these streets, I think a lot about little girls. I think about little girls with grown women bodies who are getting the same attention I get when I’m at the bus stop. Those thoughts scare me. Our little girls just want to get to school. Or to their Granny’s house.They just want to get where they’re going and look how they look. And they want that to be okay. I want that for them.

When I saw a bus coming in the opposite direction, I ran across the street to catch it. Figured it’d be better to go out of my way and ride it all the way back around than stand on that corner waiting for it to circle back. Before I got on, a dude yelled out, “You changed your mind about the bus? I was coming back for you!”

When the bus circled back, he was standing at the bus stop where I had been.

Originally published on ChicagoNow.com in my blog, My So-Called Writer’s Life.

– Sandria Washington

Location: Chicago, IL, South Side bus stop in 2011

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“I like the way you walk”

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I was 14, and at the movie theater with my friends to see School of Rock for the third time that summer. Passing the concession stand I heard someone going, “Hey! hey!” toward me, and I turned to see a tall, slender man with a mole on his face and realized he was talking to me. When he had my attention he said, “I like the way you walk” in a really suggestive manner. Unfortunately he was the only one working so I was stuck buying from him. I vaguely remember him winking at one point.

Did I mention I was fourteen frickin years old? He wasn’t my age, I’m not even sure he was a young man, he seemed like he was in his 30s or 40s. I was extremely creeped out. I should have complained.

– Anonymous

Location: Dedham, MA

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