I was going to the gas station when a black man noticed I had on a redskins coat, and he commented that he was a cowboy fan. I was polite and kept it moving.

This man was on his way out of the gas station, he followed me back into the gas station and asked me out. I told him I was married.

This crazy person then started talking jibberish about giving him a chance. I rushed out of the gas station and this fool followed me and he was still harassing me. I RAN to my car. I sped off in my car and this fool followed me and threw something at my car. Fortunately there was a police precinct close by. I immediately reported this loser.

Just because I am a black woman does not give a black man I do not know the right to harass me. I did not know this man and I did not owe him anything. I take good care of myself and I have a nice shape, and unfortunately I deal with harassment from Black men on a regular basis.

I believe these men think that just because we are members of the same race that they have a right to us. I honestly believe that a lot of these men feel dis-empowered in all aspects of their lives, but think they have power over black women and a right to harass Black women, but no one owes them anything. I don’t owe a damn thing to a person I do not know and it is a shame that I have grown afraid of Black male strangers in public settings.

I’m sorry, but I am going to keep it real: (1) I am a lawyer and don’t want anything to do with an unemployed man that harasses women on the street and (2) I am married to a hard working black man that treats me well.

Something has to be done about this harassment. The man that harassed me got arrested. Black women, keep cell phones on you and start reporting these fools to the cops. If enough of us do this, perhaps we can assist in giving a message that enough is enough.

– Anonymous

Location: East Capital Street, Exon, Northeast Washington, DC

I am 20 years old, and when I walk down the street and I am wearing a nice dress, nothing too provocative, but just a simple dress, I get whistles, people address me as baby, and people yell things at me from their cars or honk when i pass, which is very embarrassing when I am with a friend or when anyone I know is watching me.

It makes me almost paranoid to walk down the street with someone because I know I am going to get a catcall or yells from someone in their cars or passing by and it is humiliating.

The only other thing i can do is put a paper bag over my head and my bottom. Because this happens everyday, it’s just when i wear a dress it happens more frequently and ostentatiously.

This guy was whistling at me over and over and i chose to ignore it until a guy walking by said, “Hey! You know he’s whistling at you, right?”

I can’t avoid it even if i want to.

I’ve heard comments like “You can ride on the handlebars of my bike if you want” and when i am just waiting for the bus a guy comes up and says, “Hey this describes you” showing me a perfume for “hot women” and i try to ignore them but then they say i am mean.

I walk to my house and a mailman gets out of his delivery truck and yells at me, “Hey baby!” and I say leave me alone and he continues to harass me until I walk away more quickly. I think it’s degrading and i want it to stop. If someone thinks I am attractive they can stop and talk to me politely but whistling, harassment, and referring to me as “baby” are not polite and they are not compliments.

It’s not that I don’t feel safe physically, it’s just i don’t feel safe mentally, or emotionally. I don’t feel safe to walk down the street in not even heels, but wedges, because guys pass by me really close and mutter incoherently, and I get whistles from cars, and it is agony. This shouldn’t be happening.

– Anonymous

Location: Miami, FL

I am a young Moroccan woman who lives in North America. I recently traveled to Morocco and wore conservative clothes (traditional long and large jellaba). I was not covering my hair most of the time. I am pretty but nothing extraordinary and I do look Arab.

This was the first time I was traveling alone in Morocco and I left this country feeling sick and exhausted because of the constant harassment. I started to avoid leaving my hotel room and got some symptoms of panic attacks at the idea of going back in some souks or streets where I had reacted to being harassed.

Men would follow me, every minutes men would say to me, “Ca va? or whisper to me things that I could not always understand. I was particularly distressed by cars or vans following me then stopping and men inside inviting me to join them in their cars.

One time, I was so distressed by these cars following me that i shouted in English to one driver, “I will call the police if you don’t stop that.” He got scared and went away but I was left feeling miserable, afraid and stressed.

I felt rage when I saw men in uniforms (gardeners in parks, men working at gas stations, workers) talking to me as well even though I did not ask them anything. They would say in Arabic things like, “So what do you want?”

Many times I wanted to cry when I would go in souks and see virtually all the men staring at me with their eyes wide open and no shame at all.

One time, a man jumped from a taxi to talk to me. He had been following me in the taxi.

Going out was too uncomfortable and draining so I stopped going alone outside.

When I was back in North America, I felt a wonderful sense of relief and understood how affected I had been by all this harassment. One month after the trip, I was still thinking about it. I do believe that it was a traumatic experience.

I went back to Morocco to reconnect with my roots and was so proud of my heritage but I have to say that I left with rage, fear and stress inside me. The saddest part is that I am no longer particularly proud to be Moroccan as I felt that streets were a savage environments for women.

It made me think as well about the fact that this harassment is coming form a population who is deeply religious, Muslim. It did really affect me on many level and I want to define myself as a North American from now on. I don’t anymore recognize my values of respect, honesty, kindness in Morocco. Sad trip.

– Anonymous

Location: Morocco, big and small towns