Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

Successfully Ending Harassment

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This harassment is easy to stop. Hit them where it hurts – in the paycheck. Remember, most people have a boss.

In the early ’80’s at an ivy league college (I was a lecturer, not a student) I was harassed when my daily route took me past a university construction site. As a physics/chemistry student in the ’60’s, I’d had it with harassment.

I took note of date, time, place, exact occurrence, and the fact that I felt demeaned and unsafe (that is very important). I noted the name of the contractor (usually posted on a sign at the site).  I then went to talk to the head of Buildings and Grounds for the university, the people who let the contracts for buildings, and told him of the incidents. I made it clear that I was determined to put an end to this for myself and female students. I had to go no further, the harassment came to an immediate halt.

If you go to the boss and get no help, or are dismissed, go to their boss, and keep going up the chain. You will eventually find someone who realizes this could cost him $.

Discuss the behavior in terms of what it is: men who feel powerless trying to exert some power.

If the problem is men on the street, non workers, the only option is to go to the police with the same data and stress that you feel unsafe and threatened. If the police dismiss you, keep working up the chain of command. The police ultimately work for you and the community.

Find out what laws are on the books in your community and get them enforced.

Any effort you put in will be worthwhile in your feeling of power and of helping other women. I still remember walking past those guys at the university construction site immediately after my meeting noted above – they silently looked at me; they were now fearful of saying a word. In a few days we women passing by were simply ignored, just like the men passing by.

-KT

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Too afraid to leave the house without men

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I’ve had very little trouble from strangers, but I think that’s because I’m excessively paranoid. I’ve been molested by three different people now, and the little street harassment I get hits very hard. I always want to be mean and abrasive, to teach them a lesson, but instead I just freeze up until I can run. But mostly people leave me alone, since I basically never leave the house without a male escort…is that the purpose of street harassment? To keep women, even lesbians, too afraid to leave the house without men?

-anonymous

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Catcalling Employees are Called Out

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This morning on my walk to the train station in NE DC to get to work, a large black utility van turns a corner, and its passengers yell “Howya doin’, Darlin’?” at me. I don’t respond, and the men cackle like the hyenas from “The Lion King.” Ugh!

I got the company’s name — Hill’s Chimney Service. The van drives so fast that I’m worried I’m not going to be able to snag its license plate number.

The van gets stuck at a light, and I’m praying in my head that I catch up to it before the light changes. The light changed and I was worried I’d lose them. Someone must’ve been looking out for me, because they don’t make it this cycle and get stuck again. I pull out my Post-It pad, fumble for a pen, and write down the license plate number: MD plates 51N 005.

I continue on, and these fools have the audacity to still try to catcall at me. The one in the passenger seat (always the one on the passenger side, damn scrub) has this shit-eating grin and is giggling, but when I said “You sexually harassed me, so I took down your license plate number and will report you,” that grin turned into a frown and he immediately rolled up his window. I could still hear some giggling, but I repeated, “You will be reported.”

When I arrived at work, one of the first things I did was call Hill’s Chimney Service to report their catcalling employees. A kindly receptionist answered the phone, and when I told her what the call was about, she replied with “Oh my goodness!” She left a message for Mike, the supervisor.

About 40-something minutes later, Mike calls back. I relay the story to him and he was upset.

“My company does not condone this!” he said. “I am a family man, I love my wife, I would never do that to a woman, and I truly apologize for this behavior. That behavior does not represent Hill’s Chimney Service as a whole.”

When I gave the license plate number, he gave me the names of the culprits: “Richard and Tyrone.”

He told me that he will reprimand them as soon as he sees them, and hopes that I never see them again.

“If you do see them again and they do that again, please call me,” Mike said.
“Will do,” I said.

So a small victory against street harassment is mine, but it doesn’t tackle the bigger war against it.

-anonymous

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Unpleasant Morning Surprise

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I was just out of law school and happy to be the first woman attorney in a downtown law firm. I enjoyed being downtown and usually commuted by bus. Occasionally, I needed a car at work and to get affordable parking I walked from an area of town that was less desirable.

stairwellOne early morning as I walked from my car something caught my attention and I saw a man a few feet away masturbating (and exposing himself) in a stairwell next to the sidewalk, staring at me. I was very shaken, but also scared. I’ve actually never discussed this experience with anyone.

I had other harassing experiences within the work environment of this job, which I left after a few years. The hostility I felt at work contributed to my insecurity and the sense that there was no one to talk with about issues like this.

Submitted by C.H.

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Like I was Nothing

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beachI was walking back from the beach with my boyfriend. I had my bathing suit on and had a towel wrapped around me. We were waiting for our turn to cross the street, and a vehicle full of college aged guys stopped at the light. I heard them making comments like, “Oooh, look at her. She’s hot/pretty.” Then they their comments turned sexually explicit. As they were driving a way I heard one of them yell, “I’d like to stuff your vagina.” I felt humiliated.

And I felt guilty. I thought *Maybe I should have put my clothes back on. Maybe I should have covered myself completely with the towel.*

Though, I knew there was no reason to feel guilty, the feeling was there anyway. I didn’t want to cry because I felt like that was letting them win somehow. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t understand how someone could treat me that way…like I was nothing. Like I had no feelings. It baffled hurt me.

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