Stop Street Harassment

Making Public Spaces Safe and Welcoming

Street Harassment During a Pandemic

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Do you have a story about street harassment during the global COVID-19 pandemic? Share it here and we’ll post it for International Anti-Street Harassment Week, April 19-25.

Today, I went for my afternoon walk in the neighborhood as usual. My eyes for a second met the eyes of a young man wearing headphones who was sitting on the stoop. I immediately thought “I hope he doesn’t think I’m interested because I glanced at him.” He stared at me hard and then jumped up from the stoop and started walking in front of me. I slowed down to put distance between us.

He turned around to face me and started walking towards me. He was acting a little off, moving erratically and pointing at me. I crossed the street instantly, he followed me, this time less than a foot behind my body. & now I was scared. He punched a sign we walked by making a large bang. He was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear anything, just fear ringing in my ears because the streets were empty and no one was around. I was thinking about running but could I outrun him, was looking for another person walking, or an open store – but only houses.

I finally got to an open corner store a couple blocks from my house and darted inside. He did too. Then I told him to fuck off and stop following me. He slammed the iron gate in a way that shook me. I rushed in — feeling the urgency to be around another person, but the store was empty. I saw the shop owner at the back and rushed towards her, but kept my 6ft. Exchanging a look between women that we all know too well.

She had seen the man follow me in and asked if I was okay. I burst into tears. She asked where I lived, locked up her store and walked me home. I wish I could’ve hugged her in that moment.

As a woman who has lived in big cities for most of my life, I’m used to street harassment. Street harassment during this pandemic is a whole ‘nother thing — there’s the extra fear of someone getting close to you, more fear when there aren’t witnesses, more fear when you can’t rush into an open store for help because most of the stores are closed.

But today, all I’m grateful for is Nani, a shop owner in my neighborhood who was ready to protect me and showed me the kindness I needed to rule out the fear. Stay safe, ladies. XO

Location: Washington, DC

– Anonymous

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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Emma Watson: “I’ve Felt Scared Walking Home”

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Image via UN Women
Image via UN Women

During an interview with Esquire magazine, actress and UN Goodwill Ambassador Emma Watson (I love you, Hermione!) spoke about her experiences of sexual harassment and how they are commonly faced by most women.

“I’ve had my arse slapped as I’ve left a room. I’ve felt scared walking home. I’ve had people following me,” she said. “I don’t talk about these experiences much, because coming from me they’ll sound like a huge deal and I don’t want this to be about me, but most women I know have experienced it and worse… this is unfortunately how it is. It’s so much more pervasive than we acknowledge. It shouldn’t be an acceptable fact of life that women should be afraid.”

I am sorry to hear about the harassment and assault she has experienced and I am so grateful to her for speaking out and for bringing attention to the fact that this is a widespread problem.

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“It’s OK, we weren’t talking to you – just about you.”

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A daytime shot of the intersection where this happened in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Photo credit: Anthony Lanzilote for AM New York.

I live in a safe neighborhood.

Of course, as a woman, that’s not an unqualified statement. What I mean is, I’ve only felt a relatively normal amount of fear when I walk alone or come home late. I don’t mean safe as in, I’m not worried about being harassed, followed, or worse. I mean, I’m not as worried about being harassed and followed as I would be in some other neighborhoods.

But last night I didn’t feel safe – I felt scared.

I went to pick up take-out for my boyfriend and me. I was presumptuous enough to do this alone. As I crossed the street kitty-corner from my block, two older men entered the cross walk as well. I did have that fleeting thought – it’s only a split second, hardly articulated, but spelled out it would read, “Please don’t say anything… not tonight…”

And then I heard, “Mira.” Spanish for, “Look.” Men in New York don’t usually expect me to speak Spanish. But I understood that one of them was telling the other to look at me, and when I turned he was a foot away from me, looking me up and down, and nearly drooling. (I know, I know, so flattering.)

I couldn’t help it. This was not a moment to “just ignore it” – he was too close. I said very clearly and directly to this man, “Please stop looking at me. It makes me uncomfortable.”

He replied, “It’s ok, I was just talking to my friend.”

It’s ok, we weren’t talking to you – just about you. This street doesn’t belong to you.

The other light was green and I needed to get away. I crossed the other street quickly, in front of the last few lighted shops before my dark apartment building. But when I was halfway up the block, I saw the man who had originally pointed me out crossing diagonally through the middle of the street and heading straight toward me. I started to panic. Was he coming after me? Was he going to say something? Would he try to hurt me? Would anyone help? This is New York…

I immediately made a plan. I was carrying my cell phone and wallet in one hand and my dinner and an umbrella in the other. If anyone – a sexual harasser or otherwise – wanted to take my wallet, it would have been easy. I’ve heard so many stories, and had so many men overreact when I told them to stop harassing me, that I knew, if he was following me, how this would play out. If this man wanted to intimidate me, the easiest thing for him to do would be to grab my wallet and phone and push me to the ground. He would walk away with some cash, an iPhone, and a renewed sense of his violent power.

I put the take-out bag handle over my left wrist and with the same hand held my phone and wallet against my stomach. In my right hand, I gripped the handle of my folded umbrella, ready to defend myself.

Perhaps I should note here – I’m a peace activist. I’m a practitioner of nonviolence, and everything I do personally and professionally is aimed at reducing the amount of violence in this world. But here I was, outside my own home in my “safe” neighborhood, mentally preparing myself to hit a man with my umbrella as hard as I could to defend myself.

I was thinking it through – he had fallen in step behind me, so if I heard him get close or saw his shadow too near me, I would have to turn around. I couldn’t let him get between me and my front door or I’d never get home safely. If he put his hands on me I’d get one good whack to bat him off and I’ve have to instantly run. If I didn’t run as fast as I could and get inside that door, there would be no fending off this man twice my height. And if he happened to be walking behind me because he lived in my building of 125 units where no one talks to their neighbors, well, then, there was no hope for me.

I got inside and up four flights of stairs as fast as I could, and he didn’t try to follow me. But my boyfriend and I were both scared and angry for several minutes even after I’d dead bolted our door.

Most of the time these men don’t follow me. Compared to the stories I’ve heard, I’ve been very lucky. But this isn’t the first time this has happened, and I know it won’t be the last. Every time a man harasses me, and especially when I dare to speak back, I have to plan my self defense, my escape route, the bystander I’ll look to, and what I’ll yell. I’ve practiced, “I don’t know you! Stop it!” lest anyone think this a “domestic dispute” that they shouldn’t get involved in.

This is the city, and the world, we live in. I can march against rape, injustice, police violence, and the war, but when I go out at night… I’d better have that umbrella.

Talia Hagerty is peace economics activist and Stop Street Harassment’s 2013 summer intern. Follow her on twitter – @taliahagerty – or read her blog about making the world better at www.theoryofchange.wordpress.com.

 

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Brugge Creeper

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Over spring break the year I studied abroad in college, I traveled a few days with friends, and then I traveled alone for a week. The first day of my lone travels, I went sightseeing in beautiful Brugge, Belgium. As I walked around the downtown area, I started to feel like I was being followed. I went in a shop, the guy went in a shop. I went back to the town square, there he was, and so on for maybe 15 minutes. I was getting really nervous and the only thing keeping me from feeling panicked was that I was in a very crowded area.

Photo from contributor in town square where she was followed

Then he came up to me and started speaking to me in French. My socialized politeness kicked in and I told him I only spoke a little French and tried to understand what he was saying. He was trying to get me to go with him to meet his friends and have some drinks. This sounded quite terrifying and a potential recipe for disaster.

As I worked on how to say no without being mean (politeness again), he became bolder and put his arm around me and acted like he would kiss me. I quickly moved away from him and said I had to meet friends (a lie since I was alone) and then hurried away (finally I was done being polite).

I was really scared he would follow me and I took off at a brisk pace and zig-zagged up and down busy streets until I had lost him. By then I had no idea where I was and I had to consult my map and figure out how to get to the hostel where I was staying. I was pretty shaken up – literally – over what had happened and I was very relieved I had lost him. Chances are he meant no harm, but I was taking no chances. And maybe he did. He’d already been physically aggressive toward me. And had he meant harm, some people would have blamed me because I was a 21-year-old woman traveling alone.

I felt like hiding in the hostel but after a quick break, I made myself get back out there to sightsee. I would only be there that day and I didn’t want to miss out on seeing Brugge because of some creepy guy. I didn’t see him again but kept a wary eye the rest of the day.

– holly

Location: Brugge, Belgium

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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75 percent of women have been followed by a stranger

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January is National Stalking Awareness Month. 3.4 million people over age 18 are stalked each year – a huge number! Most people are stalked by someone they know and about 10 percent are stalked by a stranger. One form of street harassment is being followed by a stranger, but being followed once by a person does not seem to characterize stalking, otherwise I think the stranger stalking statistic would be much higher.

In fall 2008, when I informally surveyed over 900 people in 45 states and 23 countries about their experiences in public spaces, 75 percent of the 811 women said they had been followed by an unknown person at least once. Anecdotally, I’ve received numerous story submissions for this blog from women who had a strange man follow them.

Being stalked or being followed once by someone can be characterized as romantic or flattering to the target, mainly if they are of the opposite sex. Both behaviors are not. In one of my survey questions where people could say how different behaviors they were the target of made them feel, most women said being followed made them fearful. Being followed was second only to being assaulted for how much it upset them. My scariest experiences have been when unknown men have followed me, too. You don’t know what they want or what they intend to do.

Have you been stalked? Followed once by a stranger? What happened? How did it make you feel?

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