Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

“I hurried into a shop to feel safe”

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Three men in a car just beeped aggressively as I was walking down the street. As I looked up to ask why they were beeping, they started swearing. I went up to the car (the car window being open) and just said, “What”?

The car was stationary. They said nothing, so I walked away. Then I heard comments such as, “You f*cking bitch” etc. I hurried into a shop to feel safe.

Optional: What’s one way you think we can make public places safer for everyone?

Make verbal harassment a crime.

– lisa palmer

Location: Walkley, Sheffield, UK

Need support? Call the toll-free National Street Harassment hotline: 855-897-5910

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for ideas.

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Northern Ireland: The Deep Psychological Impact of Street Harassment

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Elaine Crory, Belfast, Northern Ireland, SSH Blog Correspondent

In survey after survey, women tell us that they begin to experience street harassment at a young age; many as young as 12 years old, almost all by the age of 18. In a world where so much divides us, this is something that is almost universal for young women.

The evidence for the harm that street harassment does is enormous, too. Young women learn to text friends to say they got home safe, to keep keys between their fingers or mace in their bag, to shrink away from large groups on the street or in public transport. They turn up the music on their headphones to drown out catcalls, or pretend to talk on the phone, or lie about imaginary boyfriends – because some men will respect another man’s supposed territory before they will heed a woman’s “no”.

But the effects goes beyond behavioural changes to avoid harassment. The impact on women’s sense of independence, on her comfort in her own skin is hard to gauge in numbers, but we hear testimony of it again and again, via resources like Stop Street Harassment, Hollaback!, and the Everyday Sexism Project. Teachers and parents see young women shrink into themselves and become less outgoing and confident, less willing to go out by themselves perhaps, more self-conscious of showing legs and bellies even in the height of summer. Projects like SSH, and the online realm generally, are invaluable resources for sharing stories and experiencing solidarity, but somehow the need to find support on the internet when surrounded by women – mothers, grandmothers, sisters, friends – who have been through the same ordeals is indicative of the greatest harm done by street harassment. It fills us with shame. It teaches us that it is our fault, our just desserts and as inevitable as death and taxes.

When we are still children in so many ways we learn that we are subjects to be observed, categorised and consumed by men. We are objects to be desired or to arouse disgust. At all times when we are out in public, we are inviting judgement and appraisal. Young men become consumers and arbiters of taste. It is no wonder that so many men take that supposed right to all other areas of their lives and that so many of us tolerate it, after all even the President of the USA grades women from 1 to 10. We knew this, and yet the majority of white American women voted for him. It’s unremarkable. It’s just how the world is, right?

I recalled in my last piece for SSH that my first experience of street harassment was being told that I was ugly, and that I immediately believed my harasser. I was ashamed of my own obviously strikingly ugly appearance, disrupting a man’s peaceable walk through the town on an unassuming afternoon. The sense of shame was so strong that I was in my 30s before I told anyone my experience, and as I did so I felt a strange lump on my throat and tears come to my eyes. After all the years that had passed in between, and even after the feminist texts and work on anti-harassment groups, the shame and humiliation is still there. It took a while before I realised that I felt much the same about the times I’d been cat-called, touched or groped, flashed and leered at. So different and yet so similar, because they all were rooted in the fact that we all grew up in a society that sees women as consumables and men as the consumers.

That is the real and frightening impact of street harassment. It is at the coalface of everyday sexism, the first clumsy instrument of rape culture, the insidious infection that makes so much of the sexism and misogyny that we encounter seem somehow natural and inevitable. And it starts alarmingly young, perhaps even younger than the figures can capture. I was 13 when I was told that I’m ugly by a stranger, and also 13 when a much older man furtively rubbed his erection against me on a bus. Legally and socially, I was a child – albeit one with breasts. Why had I already internalised the shame? Because it permeates all social interactions.

I walk my 5 year old home from school, and it is striking how often people – generally men – comment on her appearance. Usually it seems that she doesn’t notice. Once, though, an older man wanted to give “the lovely child” a coin. She recoiled and hid behind my coat, and his reaction was to curse, toss the coin towards me, instead, and to reach around me to tousle her hair. She cried in anger and shock most of the way home, and I felt choked with both anger and fear for the future, because this is how it starts. This is why I accepted verbal abuse at the age of 13, and now I worry that she will, too. We walk on the other side of the road now, more often than not, and I hate that fact.

Elaine is a part-time politics lecturer and a mother of two. She is director of Hollaback! Belfast, co-organises the city’s annual Reclaim the Night march, and volunteers with Belfast Feminist Network and Alliance for Choice to campaign for a broad range of women’s issues.

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“I had never called someone out for harassing another person before”

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I was on my way to work in the morning on a Muni train and saw a guy shove his way onto the train car. He proceeded to stand really close to another girl from behind and kept getting closer to her in a disgusting manner. I stuck my luggage in between him and the girl because I was not completely sure what was happening–it was a full train.

He shoved my bag away and proceeded to turn around and stand close to another random girl who was unaware. The train had just gotten lighter with less passengers and there was plenty of room behind him.

I said, “Hey” a few times trying to get his attention and he ignored me so I tapped on the girl’s shoulder to tell her what he was doing. He immediately turned around and started to curse at me and shove my bag out of the way and all I could get out was that he was “standing a little too close to women”. He coughed in my face and then left the train.

I was very shaken up. I had never called someone out for harassing another person before, but I felt very protective of other women in that moment. People came up to me afterwards and said I did the right thing and they would have backed me up. The first girl also thanked me because she wasn’t sure what had happened until she saw him do it to someone else.

I hope that my choice to step out will cause others to be aware of their surroundings and to speak up if they see someone being harassed.

– AH

Location: San Francisco, CA

Need support? Call the toll-free National Street Harassment hotline: 855-897-5910

Share your street harassment story for the blog.
See the book 50 Stories about Stopping Street Harassers for ideas.

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USA: Sexual Violence Should NEVER be Normal

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Libby Allnatt, Phoenix, AZ, USA, SSH Blog Correspondent

Photo taken by the author

Trigger Warning – Attempted Rape

As the United States grapples with the misogyny, racism and bigotry that was seemingly validated with the election of Donald Trump, it is more important than ever to not normalize sexual violence.

The presidential election of 2016 rattled much of the nation.

It was supposed to be her.

On January 20, 2017, we were supposed to be inaugurating our first woman president.

But that’s not what happened. If you are outside the United States, I would venture to guess you’re aware of the trash fire that has transpired here since the country not only condoned the candidacy of an admitted sexual predator, but handed him the White House on a silver platter.

The election threatened the livelihood of many groups: Muslims, Mexicans, Jews, the LGBTQ+ community, just to name a few. These threats should not be underestimated. Trump’s refugee ban last week served as proof that he will try and make good on his threats.

Another group who felt threatened as we watched the polling results roll in on November 8: women. (Not all women, I should add. More than half of white women voted for Trump.)

The attitudes that normalize Trump’s “locker room talk” are the same attitudes that women must face the repercussions of every day as we walk down the street.

I started a new job this semester and work nights three days a week. At first I felt uneasy about knowing I’ll be walking home late at night, in the dark, in the city. But I refuse to feel scared.

I and the women around me have had lots of experiences with street harassment, and I feel disgusted to even say that I haven’t had it as bad as many others. I have struggled to understand the roots of the phenomenon and arm myself with knowledge.

While I believe we should avoid demonizing Trump alone (change is broader than one man, and government and the nation as a whole also needs to be held accountable for what they condone and initiate), we can’t ignore what his victory represented to a lot of people: that America condoned the actions of an admitted sexual abuser.

Groups have thoroughly documented hate crimes by perpetrators who used Trump’s exact words. A man harassed me a few days after the election using Trump’s words.

After the election of Donald Trump, women’s everyday fear of sexual assault was intensified, as if that’s even possible.

The other night when I walked home from work, a man in a car catcalled me. (The anonymity and distance of being in a vehicle does wonders for the empowerment of harassers.) I breathed a sigh of relief when he drove away.

The next night I walked home again. My stomach clenched when a group of four men were walking in my direction. I clutched my keys between my fingers.

A thought passed through my head: What if I got raped right now?

They passed me without saying anything, and I felt ridiculous for being scared of a group of innocent men. But this is our reality.

Some say street harassment is a fact of life, that we should deal with it.

But do they know what it’s like to breathe a sigh of relief when you make it through the door because you arrived untouched and unbothered?

I text my mom the second I get back to my apartment, the text already written out before I depart for home. The response she sent last night once I notified her of my safe arrival? “Yay!” A casual and all-too-normal declaration of joy at your daughter making it home unscathed.

The fears are for good reason. Last year at my own apartment complex a man followed a girl into the building, forced his way into her room, and tried to rape her before her male roommate stepped in. I would link to the news story, but I am obviously wary of publicizing the apartment complex I live in.

Paranoia. Fear. Guarding our bodies at all costs. Could we take on a man twice our size? Do we have our pepper spray? How do we fight back?

We fight back by not being scared. By continuing to talk about the obscene, ridiculous and terrorizing details of our experiences. By intervening when we have to. By holding accountable those who don’t take it seriously.

The hand signing executive orders to deny women reproductive rights and health care has been accused of groping their bodies. The words that spew hatred for any skin color that isn’t white come from the same mouth that makes jokes (threats) of dating 14-year-old-girls.

I don’t care who’s in the Oval Office. Sexual violence isn’t normal. And I refuse to ever let anyone make me feel like it is.

Libby is a student at Arizona State University. Originally from Salt Lake City, Utah, she is majoring in journalism with a focus on print and she is minoring in psychology and women’s studies. You can follow her on Twitter @libbyallnattasu and Instagram @LibbyPaigeA.

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Romania: Street Harassment in Winter Time is Business as Usual!

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Simona-Maria Chirciu, Bucharest, Romania, SSH Blog Correspondent

First of all, this is my second time as a SSH Blog Correspondent and I am so happy to have this honour.

I am in charge of Hollaback! Romania and I am working on a PhD thesis regarding gender-based street harassment in Romania, so I am involved 24/7 in the awesome fight for safe spaces.  I really think that together we are powerful and fierce and we can support others to find their strength, too.

Right now in Romania we are having a tough winter. The weather is so cold and nobody wants to stay out for a long time. But still, street harassers do not take a break in winter. Business as usual, right?

Stories represent a vital tool in fighting street harassment and link together harassed people. I want to share three different stories of street harassment in this winter. The first story is mine.

I know already that women can’t have a break from street harassment, even if outside it’s -10 Celsius degrees. I remain a street harassment target (in my harassers’ eyes) and a fighter year after year, winter after winter.  A couple of days ago I was barely walking because of the glazed frost. Walking in winter time is quite an adventure if you don’t have a car or money for taxi. I was sick and moody but I had to go to work. I crossed the street, when a driver honked and then stopped his car near me, open the other door and ask me to go in the car with him! His lewd smile made me sick on my stomach. A 45-50 years old man harassing a young woman in the street instead of minding his own business.

I said, ”You are such an idiot! Leave me alone!” He was surprised because I had the nerve to answer him and then drove off. Harassers act powerful but they take this power from us. We are the ones to decide if we accept this, or we hold on to our power and fight them back.

Since the last year I have noticed many girls and women are posting their street harassment experiences on social media. This is quite a surprise for me, as a researcher and as a activist so I try to do my best in encouraging girls and women to do so: to use their voice and to tell their stories.

The second story is of Mihaela from Bucharest. She shared her story on the Hollaback! Romania Facebook page  using #harassmentinthebus (#hartuireinratb) on 8th December 2016,.

Her story goes like this:  ”Bucharest, Rahova neigbourhood. I was walking to the classes with the tram 32. Beside one seated lady was a man standing. At the next stop she left and I took her seat. That man comes near me and using the excuse he wanted to make room for another person to cross, he almost was brushing his groin to my face. I sighed loudly to show my disapproval. He backed off. I knew he did this on purpose but my first thought was, ”I am wrong to think this. I am the one guilty.”

Then, someone wanted to cross again and this time he did the same thing. I was so close to touching his genitals with my face. But this time he was not moving back from my face, so I started to show my disgust. Nothing! I badly wanted to scream at him to back off but I was afraid of his reaction and the reaction of bystanders as well. I was worried that people will say that I am the one wanting to get close to him and do something with him  …. So often the victim is the one to blame.”

Yes! The victim is the one to blame… Why? Because we are living in a rape culture, in a patriarchal society that teaches girls and women to be quiet, to know and accept their place and to please boys and men. Their voices, their experiences, their rights are not so important. And if men are sexist, violent or abusive, always the blame is on women.

So often I hear this from girls and women: ”I was too afraid … I don’t know, maybe it’s my fault.. Maybe I did something to make him react like this …” and so on. The blame is not on us, it’s on the perpetrators and harassers! Always! Full stop!

The third and the last story is of one of my friends and a former colleague, K., as she was leaving Bucharest. She is a feminist and is a strong woman. I care for her and I was so upset hearing this but I asked for her consent to write her story. When she said to me what happened to her, I was so surprised: she was harassed and sequestered by a taxi driver. I heard a similar story from another woman two years ago and it was very bad indeed. The good news is that we managed to fight for justice and that taxi driver is in prison… I know harassment and sexual violence are so common, so prevalent. But let’s back to my friend, K.

”It was New Year’s Eve. I was at a party in a local pub. I was searching for a taxi. I found one but because it was night, he overcharged me. I was in the cab with one of my girl friends. The taxi driver was ok, he was quiet and serious. I dropped off my friend in front of her house. Then, he drove to my place but when I wanted to get off, he blocked the doors. He wanted me to give him my phone number or my Facebook account and asked if maybe if I can go to a coffee with him at 6 am in that morning.  So I said to him, ‘Look, mister! I want you to let me out of the car. In the second place, you are working now, and your job is not to insist I give you my contact. Moreover, you saw I was with my boyfriend when I approached you.’

He was insisting even harder so I texted a message on Whatsapp to find someone to help me escape from him. I was a hostage in his car! I texted to a friend and he called me. He tried to make me feel ok. ‘Please, talk to me. In this way, the driver will know someone knows you are not safe right now,’ he said. So, I was talking to this friend and the taxi driver refused to let me go. After some time, he started to panic and opened the doors, but only after mentioning that ‘I don’t know what a good catch I am losing’. After I was home and safe, I talked to my boyfriend and he said to me that if he knew this, he wouldn’t let me go alone, but I think this is so stupid: in 2017, a woman is not able to ride alone?!”

Yes, maybe it sounds stupid, but this is the reality of many women and LBTQ folks: you don’t know if you are safe from harassment and violence even when you choose to pay and go for a taxi, instead of public transportation.

One day, I was talking to a friend and I made a funny but real comparison: “Harassers are like cockroaches!” because they are intruders, they are many, they are tough, they are everywhere. But we are the one to decide if we accept the harassers in our space or if we fight them back (not with insecticide, of course, but with action!).

Even when we are feeling too small or too weak to create a change, when we are scared and traumatized by our experiences, when we are all alone and we try to resist and fight this back, we can make it! Our bad experiences do not define who we really are. Our actions do! So it’s good to keep in mind that our actions can bring change for us and for others.

Stay safe, strong and be super-fighters against street harassment this winter!

Simona-Marie is a Ph.D. Student in Political Sciences, working on a thesis on gender-based street harassment in Romania. She is an activist and organizes numerous public actions (marches, flash-mobs, protests) against sexual violence and street harassment against women. Now she is part of an working-group trying to improve by public policies the situation of young homeless people in Romania. You can find her on Facebook.

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