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What’s in a Name?

April 7, 2017 By Contributor

Guest Post for International Anti-Street Harassment Week

By Blythe Tyrone

Ask any woman if she’s experienced street harassment, and she’s likely to respond emphatically in the affirmative. She’ll probably have a few anecdotes to share (she might even laugh while doing so), recounting what was said and done by whom, maybe regretting the way she handled the situation but recognizing the potential danger of an alternative response. As result of the harassment, she might share that she now avoids that one street at certain times of the day, or perhaps makes a point to listen to music while walking down a city street to discourage unwanted comments, or simply to drown them out.

To a passerby, street harassment may just seem like harmless words, but these uninvited interactions have real effects on women’s daily lives. I intentionally don’t jog on the sidewalk of high-traffic streets, for instance, because the occasional honk or holler is jarring and distracting from what should otherwise be a stress-relieving activity. It’s minor, but it’s a real change I have made in my life because of street harassment.

Because street harassment is so common, it seemed like an area that would be ripe for academic research, but when I started digging into the literature, I was surprised at how little I could find, especially compared to similar topics like sexual harassment. I thought street harassment was such an obvious problem and was surprised that no one seemed to care about it. I could find peer-reviewed research on what pick-up lines worked better at a bar, but little about something so common it’s been the subject of a viral video, comedy sketches, webcomics, think pieces, a Tumblr project, disturbing headlines, and initiatives.

The problem, I soon learned, was a simple matter of definition. What’s in a name? Well, quite a lot, apparently. Eventually I discovered that I was far from the only one interested in researching street harassment, but I was one of the few actually using that term. Street harassment research is scattered across disciplines under a variety of names such as stranger harassment (Fairchild & Rudman, 2008), public harassment (Gardner, 1995), catcalling (Wesellmann & Kelly, 2010), girl watching (Quinn, 2002), sexual terrorism (Nielson, 2002), street remarks (Kissling, 1991), and street hassling (West, 1987). So, earlier, when you asked that woman if she’s experienced street harassment? She could actually have described any one of these experiences.

Research is an important tradition that helps us understand problems and leads us to solutions. If we are not using the same words when identifying our problems, how can we expect to share what we have learned about them so that others may take our experience into consideration for their own work or build on it?

For my graduate thesis at NC State University, I have made a point to explore the many names street harassment research might be disguised under in past research. However, as more and more people – especially beyond the hallowed halls of academia – start using the term street harassment, not only might it spur researchers to start using the same name, but it may help spread awareness to the general public as well. To recognize and call out street harassment when we see it, we need to all be on the same page as to what we’re calling it to begin with. This isn’t to say that there are not many different layers that shape street harassment (it is certainly enmeshed in issues of race, power, gender, sexuality, etc.), but if we have a common place to start, we will be more unified and effective in the overall effort to stop street harassment.

Blythe Tyrone is a graduate student at NC State University studying street harassment for her thesis research. Follow her on Twitter @blythe_tyrone.

UK: “We Need to Change the Whole Picture”

February 16, 2017 By Correspondent

Annabel Laughton, Gloucestershire, UK, SSH Blog Correspondent

Finn Mackay. Credit: Rosie Charlotte Mackay

This week I was delighted to meet Dr. Finn Mackay, a teacher and feminist activist. She’s a sociology lecturer and former youth worker, and has a special interest in working with boys and men, as a researcher and campaigner. She’s involved with the White Ribbon Campaign, and domestic violence prevention work, and speaks and writes about feminism and male violence against women.

First we talk about Reclaim the Night. Mackay set up the London Feminist Network in 2004 and revived a national women-only Reclaim the Night march held in London every November. Mackay explains how Reclaim the Night marches directly tackle intimidation of women in public space. “Public space is gendered, though it shouldn’t be,” she says.

As the name suggests, Reclaim the Night is women’s takeover of public space from men. I ask her about the street harassment I experienced on my local Reclaim the Night march in November, and she laughs wryly. “That happens on all the marches. Groping, asking the way to brothels… it’s an explicit reaction to women taking back the space. Men feel we are trespassing. It’s their way of saying, ‘these are our streets; go back home.'”

Reclaim the Night marches are a powerful statement. For her book, Radical Feminism: Feminist Activism in Movement, Mackay interviewed women about Reclaim the Night, and many women said the march was the only time they could feel safe and powerful.

Is street harassment getting better or worse, I asked?

Her answer is grimly definite: worse. Mackay explains that in her experience, young women say street harassment is an inevitable part of a night out, and how if they reported every instance, they’d never be off the phone. Working in secondary schools in London on anti-bullying campaigns, it was common for girls to report that they would go out wearing two pairs of pants, or would wear tights in summer, because it was so normal for boys to try to grope them inside their underwear. She believes women feel they have to appear unaffected by incidents, not wanting to appear delicate, prudish, or like a victim, and talks about women priding themselves on thinking of witty ripostes to sexual comments. She also explains that most people don’t know the definition of sexual assault (in the UK this is any unwanted intentional sexual touching), and are unsure at what point harassment becomes a criminal offence.

Next I want to find out what Mackay thinks about other areas that interlock with street harassment, like porn. Her view is that it’s an enabler. “Porn is part of a culture where men have to do things to women, and women have to put up with them; a predator/prey dynamic.”

Even more directly, a man can see violent images online and think, “I’ll go and do that to a woman”. Likewise, online harassment is part of that culture of women putting up with everything. The vicious, vitriolic online misogyny experienced by women has contributed to the development of a dialogue where the victim is expected to “toughen up” – because it “happens to everyone”.

Finally, we talk about causes and prevention. Good sex and relationships education (SRE) in schools, including education around consent, would go a long way. At present, there is no duty on schools to teach more than the biology of reproduction, despite many attempts by campaign groups, so provision varies. While there is some progressive, radical work in schools, others offer no SRE, and even in schools that do, it’s often taught by an over-worked gym teacher or someone else without adequate training. Mackay is sceptical about statutory consent campaigns.

“One recent one was, ‘Give it: Get it’. This doesn’t take apart the predator/ prey dynamic. In fact, it sets it up. It’s obvious who’s doing the giving and who’s doing the getting. This is still about controlling women’s sexuality; it removes their sexual agency, as well as assuming men are desperate for sex and women have to be persuaded. And what can be given, can also be taken.”

This points to an urgent need for educating men and boys, and for tackling the expectations of how men behave. In Mackay’s experience, men are usually shocked and defensive about how they come across, even perpetrators of domestic violence. “They split the power thrill [of the act of violence] from the reaction. This is a status defence; they know they have higher status. Men need help. We need to think about how we’re constructing masculinity.”

In the end, though, Mackay sees street harassment in the broadest possible context: the whole of society. “We live in a male supremacy; there’s no getting away from that. All our major institutions are run by men. Ultimately, we need to change the whole picture.”

Annabel is involved in campaigns for human rights, mental health, environmental issues and social justice. She has an honours degree in Classical Studies, a diploma in counselling, and works in Higher Education.

USA: New Orleans Takes A Stand Against Gender Violence

September 30, 2016 By Correspondent

Sequoya La Joy, Louisiana, USA, SSH Blog Correspondent

As a woman, street harassment is nothing new to me. I can remember being whistled at in the Chicago suburb I grew up in when I ran into the gas station to get cream sodas and my mother pumped gas. I can remember being on road trips with my mother and watching her dodge the strange men at rest stops and road side cafes who tried to talk to us both. I commuted to and from work and school for four years via foot, bike, or city buses. Men have groped me as I have gotten on and off the bus, followed me to my job, followed me to my stop, and screamed at and touched on the bus and the street. However, just a few months ago, I bought a car.

I was delighted at being able to get to one place and the next without having to look up bus times, call a cab, or wait for the street car. I felt so protected in my 1998 navy blue Mercedes Benz, surrounded by metal, glass, and old leather. I was in my own bubble in the beginning. As the summer progressed and the temperatures rose, I rolled the windows down instead of waiting for the AC to kick in. I had a sunroof for the first time and I often drove with the sunroof and front windows open. However, rolling the windows down removed a thin but very real barrier to the outside world. Less than one eighth of an inch of fiber glass separated me in my bubble of leather, metal, and glass and all of the motorists and people that occupied the streets of New Orleans.

Men came up to me when I was stopped at traffic lights to ask for my number or ask for money or a ride. I men yelled from their windows asking for my snapchat name was or if I had a boyfriend. They may have been doing this all along, but when I rolled down the windows, I erased the barrier that kept me oblivious to what these men were saying.

I was in the passenger seat of my father’s car this summer at a stop light when I noticed a man who had been begging walking up to a SUV next to me. A woman was driving and what looked like her young teenage daughter sat in the passenger seat. I thought it was interesting that he was walking up to the pair and wondered if he were a family member they were picking up. I watched the man reach for the door handle and try to rip the door open. It was then, I realized this wasn’t a family member and the women weren’t there to pick them up. I watched the mother scream and reach over and shut the door as my father noticed and honked his horn. The light turned green and they drove off. It was then that I started to make sure my doors were locked when I started driving my car and only rolled down my drivers window and cracked the passenger’s window.

Since I’ve been driving, I’ve also been harassed by other motorists even with my windows up. Just this past weekend, I was on the interstate driving to a relative’s house and heard a car beeping at me. I ignored the beep as I could see a man in a muscle car out of the corner of my eye and didn’t want to engage. The man continued to beep five more times and I looked over, thinking I may have left my gas tank open or that something was wrong with my car, just to see the man making a lewd gesture with his tongue at me. This was the first time this had happened on the highway. I honestly feared that another car could have hit me or I could have hit another car during this interaction. I had no idea why this man felt entitled to slow down the entire interstate and do this. My windows were up and I was supposed to be wrapped in my protective bubble of glass, metal, and leather and yet I felt very unsafe.

New Orleans is a city that is not always safe for women.

In fact, this summer, Erica Davis, a young black woman in the LGBT community was murdered on her way to work. Weeks later, Devin Diamond, a black trans woman was found murdered and burned alive. Street harassment and gun violence run rampant in this city and it can be a dangerous place for all people but women and gender nonconforming and LGBT folks are at a very high risk of violence in this city.

On October 27th, local organizations and universities will join forces and celebrate New Orleans’ 25th Annual Take Back The Night Event. Take Back The Night originally started in protest of the murder of young microbiologist Susan Alexander Speeth, who was stabbed to death one block from her home while walking home alone at night. The event will start at Loyola University New Orleans and there will be community organizations set up and offering resources, a speech, and then a candle light vigil and march that will take participants onto Tulane University’s Campus for a open mic.

Take Back The Night is a international event that has happening for over 40 years and is an event that aims to end gender violence and violence of all kinds and aims to make the night a safe space again for women and other victims of violence.

This event is to honor those who have experienced violence and assault and to empower survivors. The New Orleans Take Back The Night march will involve Loyola University, Tulane University, Dillard University, Holy Cross, Xavier University, University of New Orleans as well as organizations like New Orleans Family Justice Center, Louisiana Foundation Against Sexual Assault, Metropolitan Center for Women and Children, Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners and Sexual Trauma Awareness and Response. If you have experienced street harassment and would like to share your story, you can submit your story and also find a list of resources such as hotlines,
counseling, and events.

Sequoya is a Native American and Italian woman from Chicago who fell in love with New Orleans. She’s currently a Sociology Major at Loyola University New Orleans and supports her higher education habit by slinging drinks to the masses. She aspires to attain a PhD and write a best seller. She currently operates a small blog.

#DoYouKazoo Anti-Street Harassment Action by #BreakthroughCatalysts

April 26, 2016 By Contributor

A committed group of people, brought together by Breakthrough Catalyst trainings, strive to use collective knowledge, energy, connections and commitment to end/reduce street harassment through cultural change. Breakthrough Catalysts and friends want to help raise awareness and promote a culture shift that discredits common street harassment myths and provide easy and effective responses to invalidate them with our posters and social media. We stand in solidarity with other organizations and individuals during Sexual Assault Awareness Month and Anti-Street Harassment Week, from April 10th to 16th, 2016.

We chose the symbol and sound of a Kazoo to promote the idea that tools work best to call out rape culture and myths about gender violence, not to prevent it. The use of the Kazoo is inspired by a joke by comic Cameron Esposito, who wishes for a rape Kazoo instead of a rape whistle, in the hopes that its sound is more appealing and will garner help if she is attacked.

Key concepts:

Reinventing the “rape whistle” as a Kazoo
“Sounding the alarm” about the issue of street harassment
Changing culture through positive humor (vs. put-down humor) as Kazoos are often thought of as whimsical, fun, non-serious musical instruments anyone can play. Kazoos have a history of use as tools of social protest.

Feel free to use and share these images with the hashtag #DoYouKazoo!

Karen Chasen is the Vice President of Prepare Inc.

Review & Book Giveaway: Sex Object, by Jessica Valenti

April 12, 2016 By HKearl

“Deeply moving, honest, and unflinching, Sex Object secures Jessica Valenti’s place as one of the foremost writers and thinkers of her generation. Her personal story highlights universal truths about being a woman, and makes the case for why feminism today is an unstoppable force.” – Cecile Richards, President, Planned Parenthood Federation of America

In honor of International Anti-Street Harassment Week, we have partnered with Dey Street Books for a giveaway of @JessicaValenti’s new memoir. I’ll do a random drawing for two copies of the book per day, from April 12-16.

To enter the drawing:

Post about street harassment on social media using #EndSH and #SexObject and tagging @DeyStreet and @StopStHarassmnt

Share your street harassment story, poem, article etc via tinyurl.com/ShareSHStory.

If your name is drawn, I’ll be in touch to get a mailing address from you in a few days. Note, Sex Object is on sale June 7th, so Dey Street will fulfill shipping at that time.

____________________________________________________________

I’ve been following the work of author and Feministing.com co-founder Jessica Valenti for a while. I’ve read a few of her books and I read her Guardian columns. I follow her on social media, including her new podcasts for the Guardian.

I’ve been a regular Feministing.com visitor for nearly a decade. In fact, I think Feministing was where I first learned the term street harassment via a feature about websites like Hollaback and the Street Harassment Project in 2006, and that led to me writing my master’s thesis on street harassment at GWU in 2007. I had one of the first accounts when Feministing started their community section and I’ve had the honor of guest blogging and being interviewed on the site.

I feel a lot of gratitude toward Valenti for the ways (likely unknown to her) that she has shaped my life and work.

While I’ve never met Valenti, from reading so much of her writing and seeing photos of her pup Monty and glimpses of her daughter Layla, I felt like I knew her a bit. But how much do you really know a person from their online persona?

After reading an advance copy of her forthcoming memoir Sex Object, it was clear that even when someone like her shares a lot, it’s still not everything (nor, of course, is everything in her book, either).

As the title suggests, a main theme throughout her book is how people treat her based on her body and the ways in which her body has informed some of her decisions and life paths. She writes about dealing with relentless street harassment, assault, slut-shaming in person and online, abortions, drug use, and the dangerous, life-threatening delivery of her daughter months before her due date.

To set the stage, in the opening of her book, she writes about the violence her mother and grandmother experienced by men in their lives and how “female suffering is linear” in her family. “Rape and abuse are passed down like the world’s worst birthright, largely skipping the men and marking the women with scars, night terrors, and fantastic senses of humor.”

This resonated with me as there has been a line of sexual violence, rape, incest, domestic violence, and street harassment on my maternal side of the family. I also have heard snippets about street harassment, including stalking, from my paternal grandmother and my dad’s sister. Sometimes I feel like I’m carrying the weight of not only the harassment I routinely face, but also the violations my female relatives and family members have each survived.

Valenti writes, “Worse than the violations themselves was the creeping understanding of what it meant to be female – that it’s not a matter of if something bad happens, but when and how bad.”

When every woman around you has faced violations, this rings completely true.

She discusses her street harassment experiences, including the many men who flashed her and masturbated at her – and even on her – when she was a teenager.

She writes, “Living in a place that has given up on the expectation of your safety means walking around in a permanently dissociative state. You watch these things happen to you, you walk through them on the subway and on the streets, you see them on the television, you hear them in music; and it’s just the air you breathe, so you narrate the horror to yourself because to engage with it would be self-destructive.”

I agree. For so many of us, street harassment is an undercurrent of our life, and one that we don’t always want to acknowledge or dwell on because it’s so depressing. It’s hard to understand or realize how much street harassment – let alone all the other ways our bodies may be violated – impacts us, our psyche and our achievements and peace of mind. I am grateful to her for bringing this reality forward to clearly.

Valenti is always a compelling story-teller and she doesn’t disappoint in this book. I read it in a weekend, curious about her life, saddened to learn what she’s been through, and inspired by her resilience to keep on going, to do the work that she does that has helped shape so many women like me.

I recommend it to anyone who is a fan of her work and also to any who has gone through the tough experiences she has, as there is some comfort to be had in knowing you’re not alone.

Just as Valenti’s first book Full Frontal Feminism helped so many women identify as feminist, I hope her memoir can help women who’ve faced similar forms of abuse against their bodies know that it should not have to be “normal” or inevitable, and that together, we are strong and we can speak out and change the culture. In the same way that Valenti is working to create a better world for her daughter, so too can we all work together to ensure that life is better for the next generation.

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