Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

Repeat motorbike groper in North Vietnam

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Today is the second time that a man on a motorbike has driven past me and grabbed my breast. The first time it happened I was so shocked that I didn’t have time to do much more than scream before he had disappeared from view. I spent many days after the first incident nervously checking my surroundings whenever I left the house and contemplating how I would catch this man if he dared tried do something similar.

Alas I now feel like a complete fool for not being able to prevent the same thing happening again just a few feet from my house. I am in an Asian country where people on motorbikes frequently wear scarves across their face to prevent inhaling fumes, so I was unable to recognize this person on sight and by the time I did, of course it was too late. I managed this time to swear at the cowardly, vile male responsible before he drove off, but given that he doesn’t speak my language, my guess is that he could care less.

I am comforted that other brave women here have experienced similar events but I can’t help worrying that this man’s actions could escalate into a more dangerous attack and I am not sure what steps to take next.

– Anonymous

Location: North Vietnam

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“My name is not ‘Dreads’!”

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Friday evening after work I decided to walk home. On the route home I bought a nice little cactus from a florist in Rosslyn.

On the street was a disheveled-looking guy. His hair was a mess and he had on a bright yellow shirt that looked covered in stains. He ignores everyone else but had to say “How ya doin’, baby?” to me. (Why me?) After what seemed to be a week free from any type of harassment or commentary, this annoyed me.

“I’m not your baby!” I snapped.

“Sorry, ‘Dreads’,” this loser then said, as if that were my name. I hate these men who reduce me to my hair and my body parts!

“My name is not ‘Dreads’!” I replied. “Leave women you don’t know alone! Don’t say a word to them!”

He mumbled something but I didn’t stop to find out what that was. I didn’t bother to take a photo either because I wasn’t in the mood. The nice weather somewhat kept me from losing it altogether, because if it didn’t I would’ve smashed that cactus in his ugly face!

– anonymous

Location: Wilson Blvd at N. Nash Street, Arlington, VA

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“Yet again. It never f***ing stops.”

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I was walking in the early evening in the east village of Manhattan, on an upscale, populated street. In my usual defensive street manner, I was walking quickly, I was not smiling, and I was not making eye contact with anyone on the street.

I passed a man who I didn’t look at and then heard from behind me, “Hey, you got a nice ass.” I stopped and turned around, I had  enough that day. This happens everyday, sometimes twice or three times a day. This comment was particularly rude and blatantly disrespectful, and I didn’t want to ignore it anymore.

I yelled at him and told him to shut up and that he was being disrespectful, he yelled at me and called me a bitch, saying “I got a right to like a big fat ass.”

I took the high road on the fat ass comment, and said, “Some women may have been sexually assaulted or raped, and they don’t like being talked to like that.” (I have been sexually assaulted).

He said, “All you gotta do is tell me that.”

Oh, so my preemptive opener for any man should be, “I’ve been assaulted, do not talk to me.”

Yes, I was upset and yelling at him, but I was trying to explain something too, that he could have learned something from. Clearly I had no effect on him whatsoever, since when I turned around and walked away, he said, “You still got a nice ass though.”

He had to have the last word, didn’t he. One more time to assert his power, knowing that I was visibly upset and could not turn around again.

Evey day [I am harassed]. Every single day without fail. I’m so tired of it. I don’t know what I can do. I feel totally helpless and unable to enjoy being outside. I am afraid when I see men coming toward me on the street. I am afraid they are going to touch me or speak to me. When they’re walking toward me I am saying to myself “please don’t look at me, please don’t say anything.” This is no way to live! I am worried about how this is really affecting me. Any advice on how to deal with this or what I can do would be appreciated.

– Amie B.

Location: East Village, NYC

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“Have a nice day…you crazy bitch!”

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Harassers get in their car

The usual comment to anyone who complains about dealing with stuff in the city is to “move to the suburbs.” Well I’ve moved to the suburbs and still deal with street harassment! What infuriates me even more is that I, a Black woman, was once again harassed by Black men who want to keep me in my place.

I have walked down this path numerous times without problems so for this to happen to me just shocked me back into reality. I was walking to the bus stop this morning, and I walked past Key Elementary School. Normally the school’s in session, cars and buses are in the lot and parents are walking their kids to school. Today the parking lot was empty and the school seemed to be closed, which I assume is in preparation for this so-called “Snowpocalypse.”

I noticed a group of four Black men who I’ve never seen in the neighborhood, and I was getting close to passing by them. My instinct told me that they were going to say something to me and that I should cross to the other side of the street to avoid them, but I thought “Let me not stereotype these men.” I continued to walk and looked them in the eye. I didn’t want to look down at the ground. I wanted to go about my day as normal.

But my instinct was right, they did say something to me.

“Smile, Baby,” the leader of their group said in a voice so harsh it sounded like he was barking at me. “You ain’t got to look so mean.” The other guys laughed. I felt so low and humiliated. All I wanted to do was get to the bus stop. Having to smile for men I didn’t know was not on my agenda this morning!

Had Key Elementary been open, this incident wouldn’t have happened because there are too many parents and concerned citizens around for that to have happened. Had I crossed the street like my gut told me to this wouldn’t have happened. Had I been any other race than Black this wouldn’t have happened, because guys like this are only concerned about what us “sisters” do. We have to smile and please “our” Black men. I was upset.

I told this guy “Can you please not call me ‘Baby’? I don’t know you like that for you to call me ‘Baby’. Call me ‘Miss’ or ‘Ma’am’.”
“Okay, I won’t call you ‘Baby’,” the guy said. I thought, “Cool, he gets it,” but then he responds with “I’ll call you ASSHOLE instead!” he snapped. His buddies laughed.

Nothing I did or said warranted that response. I didn’t curse, I didn’t yell or anything. I simply requested to be respected.

“You are strangers to me, and you don’t have the right to call me ‘Baby’,” I said.
“Sorry Ma’am, I won’t do it again,” the guy said. “Have a nice day.”
“Thanks, you too,” I said. But then the guy had to make a smart-aleck comment again.
“Have a nice day…you crazy bitch!” he yelled. Once again, his peanut gallery of friends laughed.

I tried to take photos of this guy with my phone camera, but he was too fast for my slow camera. He realized I was taking photos and jumped into his car with his friends.

“That was so unnecessary,” I said to myself. This car got to drive off and these guys got to share a laugh amongst each other, and I had to feel the rage, humiliation and anger of being a Black woman being put in her place by Black men. I hate that certain Black men feel that they can refer to me as whatever they want because they see me as their property, not as an individual who lives for herself.

I got a clear shot of the car’s license plate in one photo and I could’ve called the police, but with as many stories I’ve reported to the police about harassment, I know they would’ve dismissed me and said “So they called you names? So?” The police don’t care. And also, since we’re both Black, the police probably would’ve assume the harassing group and I knew each other, and that that’s how Black people act around another. That’s not true and that’s not fair.

Even as I type this I’m still shaking and tense with anger. I hate that these men got to me like that, and I hate that they ruined my morning.

– Anonymous

Location: On the Adams St. side of Key Elementary, Arlington, VA

Share your street harassment story today and help raise awareness about the problem. Include your location and it will be added to the Street Harassment Map.

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