Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

“I experience an immense amount of street harassment”

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Every single day of my life I experience intense street harassment. It makes me question why, when I am with a group of just as feminine friends, most of the comments or entitlements to a body are targeted at me. Is it something about me that screams ‘harass me?’ I live every single day wondering, ‘when am I going to get raped?’ Not if. When am I going to get raped. I have had disgusting encounters with men, saying and doing repulsive things to express to me that they want me or are entitled to my body.

Beyond this, I am also a queer woman. I am a very feminine presenting queer woman, and that anomaly brings even more attention my way. Wherever I turn and wherever I go, I experience an immense amount of street harassment. Here is a glimpse:

One night my girlfriend and I were walking through NYC. As we were walking, a man grabbed my hand and stopped us. He wouldn’t let my hand go, and then he proceeded to make a motion with his other hand up and down my body, turn to my girlfriend and say, “Nice work.”

Last week, I was at a social justice forum. I was waiting in the hall for a meeting to finish. A man came up to me and started talking to me, soon enough he was telling me how he can’t stop staring at my body and how incredible my body is. He proceeded to comment on my looks. I removed myself from the situation. He then came up to me later, again, and continued to stare at my body and comment on how ‘fine’ and incredible it is and how he can’t stop thinking about it.

A few days ago I was at a street parade. A man spotted me from somewhat far away and came towards me. He grabbed my hand and said I had to be his girlfriend cause I am so damn fine. I asked him to let go of my hand, and instead he decided it was okay to lay a disgusting, wet kiss on my hand. I immediately walked away. Every time I saw him after, he continued to say nasty things to me.

I’ll leave you with this story, because it is one of the few in which I have gotten an answer to my question: why do you think it is okay to do this to me? Once someone came up behind me and started slowly kissing my neck. I turned around and pushed him off of me and said what the f*ck are you doing? He told me not to be such a bitch. I asked him, “Why do you think it is okay to do this to me?” And he said, “Because you are a f*cking woman.”

I don’t even know what to do anymore.

– Anonymous

Location: Everywhere

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

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USA: “It is an incredibly brave act to speak up”

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Michelle Marie Ryder, USA, SSH Blog Correspondent

Like the French poet and playwright, Jean Genet, I have “never been able to find out which way the wind’s blowing by wetting my finger and holding it up” in the air. I can, however, sense a man staring at me from a mile away, his gaze penetrating me like a heat-seeking missile. I can see eyes that see me but don’t know I see them. It’s a kind of extra-sensory perception, both a blessing and a curse, helping me to localize specific threats.

Public spaces should be safe. As safe for women and members of any marginalized group – like visibly trans or queer people – as they are for men. One would think a trip to the market or a coffee break could occur without the risk of humiliation or exposure to violence.

One would think it would be absurd for my good friend to pull over on the side of the road and relieve herself in the bushes to avoid stopping at a gas station. But it’s not and she did and I completely understood why, laughing into the phone, “The gas station, where real men go to buy their groceries and harass women!”

In the 21st century we live in a complex, rapidly changing, technologically advanced world. But still not a safe one. A woman is beaten every nine seconds in the US and sexually assaulted every two minutes. Intimate partner homicide kills three women daily. And male strangers on the street (including those tasked with the duty to “serve and protect”) have the power to call into question our basic safety and humanity. Disturbingly, our culture furnishes us with a long list of instances where the evasion or rejection of a harasser’s advances was met with violence. The Economist reported last year:

“Most women don’t stand up to verbal harassment in the street for fear of exacerbating the situation. This is no idle concern: last month a 27-year-old woman in Detroit was shot and killed after refusing to give a stranger her phone number. More recently, in Queens, a man slashed a woman’s throat with a blade when she rejected his request for a date. Then there’s Elliott Rodger’s shooting rampage last May, famously directed at “every single blonde slut” who rejected him.”

Because it can rob us of the ability to act, street harassment reduces the harassed person to a thing that is human in name only.  The underlying logic driving street harassment – sexual objectification – equates our entire personhood to isolated regions of the body. “Nice tits!” “Dang, THAT ass!!” “Damn girl, you’s a whole chicken! Breasts… legs… thighs… MM MM MMM!”

No wonder cultural critic Susan Sontag was so on point when she argued: “Women are taught to see their bodies in parts and to evaluate each part separately. Breasts, feet, hips, waistline, neck, eyes, nose, complexion, hair, and so on—each in turn is submitted to an anxious, fretful almost despairing scrutiny.”

A society that refuses to see us as whole human beings, in body and mind, will never be a safe one or enlightened one.

But until we can get to the promised land of gender equality – where the weather is perfect, the streets safe and the pay equal! – we are left prioritizing our personal safety above all else, which often means assenting to silence in order to disengage from potential danger. In a world that already questions a woman’s natural right to assert herself, this silencing is deeply disempowering and can overwhelm our capacity for language itself.

In this context, it is an incredibly brave act to speak up. One way to make our voices heard is through the liberatory power of poetry. My own experience has shown me that a poem often starts with a lump in the throat and the determination to say the unsayable, not divine inspiration or lofty ideas.

A poem that shakes me to the core every time I hear it is Calayah Heron’s, “CornerStoreCandy.” In this poem, Heron – who first experienced street harassment at the tender age eight – details in haunting, evocative language the terror of being sexually objectified and preyed upon. Heron’s voice cracks with pain beneath a beautifully measured eloquence. Her words illuminate the deep, unnamed feelings that are routinely suppressed when we bottle up our rage, grief and disbelief.

By putting pen to paper, poets like Heron remind us that even if we can’t speak up in the moment, we can later. It’s never too late to reject the ritual humiliations of living in a world where men have been taught to feel entitled to our time, our bodies, and our lives.

Michelle is a freelance writer and community activist. She has written for Infita7.com, Bluestockings Magazine, and The New Verse News on a range of social justice issues, and shares her poetry regularly at poetrywho.blogspot.com.

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Apply to be a 2015 Safe Public Spaces Mentoring Team or Sponsor a Team!

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APPLICATIONS NOW AVAILABLE FOR OUR 2015 SAFE PUBLIC SPACES MENTORING PROGRAM! DUE JULY 15, 2015

What is it? Our mentoring program empowers people to consider what efforts might decrease street harassment in their community, and then propose and carry out a project. Across four months, selected activists receive advice, network connections, input, and up to $350 for expenses from SSH.

In 2013 and 2014, we worked with a total of nine teams in eight countries (Afghanistan, Cameroon, India, Kenya, Nepal, Nicaragua, Serbia and USA).

Afghanistan
Afghanistan

As three examples:

* In Afghanistan, college students held workshops on street harassment for hundreds of high school students. For all of the students, it was their first time having the space to talk about the issue, share their feelings, and brainstorm change.

* In Serbia, activists surveyed more than 600 college-age youth. Publishing their findings had two immediate impacts. 1) The college psychologists decided to take action around the issue. 2) Members of the Board Commission for Gender Equality of the City of Nis decided to conduct another survey.

* In the USA, the BikeWalkKC group in Kansas City, Missouri, worked with a number of groups to see the passage of an anti-harassment ordinance in their city.

The projects will begin on August 15 and run through December 15.

SPONSOR A TEAM!

Street harassment can cause people to feel unsafe in public spaces and also can make them feel powerless and unsure what they can do. Your sponsorship of $10+ can help give someone their power back and let them take action to address and work to end street harassment.

The amount of money we raise will determine how many teams we can fund this year. 100% of your money goes to the selected teams. Help make a difference today!

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“I began to have an absolute meltdown”

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I was walking back to my house after just strolling around the neighborhood. I walked past my neighbor’s house (right across the street a few houses down), and there’s a teenage boy sitting in his driveway. I’m 17, so I assumed I knew him, and waved. He said, ʺGood afternoon,ʺ to which I told him good afternoon as well. He said, “You’re so pretty.ʺ

I didn’t think anything of it and said, “Thank you.ʺ

I kept walking, and he made a kissing sound behind me, and I ignored it. Then, he said, ʺYou’re so fine, mm come back hereʺ or something along those lines.

I whipped around and shouted, ʺHey, F*CK you!ʺ and flipped him off. He started kinda laughing, and then said, ʺHey, don’t be a f*cking bitch!ʺ and some more obscenity, and I began to walk faster. I was feet away from my house and he stood up and came towards me. I booked it back inside, and told my brother. He went to talk to the kid, but the kid wouldn’t answer the door. I was so angry and ashamed, I immediately started playing in my head what I could’ve said better, or what I could’ve done differently. I have anxiety and PTSD from being sexually assaulted, so I began to have an absolute meltdown. It took me awhile to calm down afterwards.

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

We could teach males in sex ed that catcalling and harassment are NEVER okay; I live in Virginia, and my boyfriend told me when he did sex ed all through middle and high school, they never mentioned catcalling or given any lectures about harassment or rape.

– Virginia Kuebler

Location: My neighborhood in VA

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

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“I was on the brink of having a panic attack”

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A few days ago, I went to an amusement park with two of my friends. With three being such a bad number in those types of situations, we were rotating who was sitting alone, and it was my turn to sit solo on a ride I particularly didn’t like because it jolts you around. (I’ve got bruises from the seat before.) Moving on. As my friends and I were getting in line, I noticed two guys come up behind us to stand in line as well. They were both 15, as I later found out. It wouldn’t have been such a bad situation if they had taken a step back. Even so, they were practically right on top of my friends and I. (Mind you, they were both pretty tall and I’m about 5’2ʺ.)

So we’re minding our own business and we’re waiting in line. My friends are smiling and I’m smiling; we’re all having a good time. Which is very rare for me.

I’m not sure if it was my smile that lead them on, but because my friends had their backs to both boys, I could easily look over their shoulder and see or make eye contact with them. And I did so about 15 times. The taller one (we’ll call him B) even whispered to his friend while maintaining eye contact. It was quite obvious to determine they were talking about me; his friend made eye contact with me only but a second later!

They didn’t say anything in line, though I knew something was coming. I’m usually not the person in my friend group to get hit on; this was my first time going to the park and actually being able to be myself. I felt radiant. I felt empowered and so so happy. I suffer from bipolar depression, severe social anxiety, ADD, and insomnia.

So we get on the ride and it flips, twirls, tosses, and jolts us all around. I was shaking by the time we got off. (It is that bad, but I rode it because my friends wanted to.)

I totally forgot about the guys behind us in the line until we walk out to look at our pictures. I don’t even bother to search for mine amidst the other 10 screens, I decided beforehand that it was terrible.

So my friends and I walked away before everyone else, the crowd was all looking for their pictures, and we got a few steps away before stopping to try and decide what we wanted to eat. I turned so that I was facing both of my friends and it was easier to converse, and once again, over their shoulders, I see the same guys from the line, which was usually normal, but B was looking around as if he lost something. And because I was being self centered (which I would later have every right to be) and thought he was looking for me, I turned around and starting urging my friends to walk to a restaurant that I know had good food no matter what you liked and didn’t like; it had everything.

We had created an even bigger distance between ourselves and the tortuous ride we went on, before I noticed the two guys, once again, out of the corner of my eye. They were looking at me, but I didn’t make eye contact with them, because they weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they were both looking at my ass.

Inwardly, I knew something was going to happen, and the thought sent my mind into a frenzy.

B moved around my friends so that he was now walking backwards in front of me. He asked me for my name, and I, so frazzled at the time, answered honestly. My name is Sarah.

He turned around then with a smile on his face, mumbling my name. I thought he was done. But no, he moved to my side, so that we were now walking beside each other and our arms were brushing absentmindedly. I tried to move away but not even my friends knew what to do. I was on the brink of having a panic attack. Tall and muscular guys quite honestly scare me, and B was just that. He smiled, but it didn’t soften his demeanor.

B walked beside me for a minute before turning to me once more.

ʺWell Sarah, do you wanna make out with me?ʺ he asked, a smirk on his lips. I was shocked and flattered (because this doesn’t happen often to me) and disgusted and scared, all at once. I went with my instinct and clearly said no, my voice unwavering and my eyes remained in contact.
He asked again, and it fazed me because my seconds of being confident were over, though I expected them to tell him off for me alone.

This time, I stuttered because B looked sad that I had turned him down. I still said no, but my faltering pride have him an advantage.

ʺWhy-why not?ʺ he asked with a playful smirk, one that told me he was conceited enough to think I was lying. I told him it was because I didn’t know him, and they only made me sound as if I had known him, I would’ve taken him up on the offer. But honestly, I was just really caught off guard and didn’t know how to respond. B sensed that.

He told me his name and where he was from, adding a chipper, ʺ..and now you know me!ʺ onto the very end. I didn’t respond, and decided to just keep walking. He kept pace. He grabbed my hand loosely, to which I pulled away easily.

He called my name once I had finally managed to lose him walking-wise, and he had drifted back to his friend.

ʺAre you sure you don’t want to make out?ʺ B had asked, and I shook my head no. In response, I asked for his age, and he told me fifteen before I turned around with an exasperated sigh.

Both guys continued to call my name until I was out of earshot, and I made my friends practically run along with me to get away from them.

– Sarah

Location: Amusement Park in Ohio

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

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