Athens GA, Atlanta, Baltimore, Chicago, Cleveland, Columbia MO, Columbus, Denver, Des Moines, Duke University, NC, Durham & Chapel Hill, East Lansing, Flagstaff, AZ, Houston, Iowa City, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Lubbock TX, Manhattan KS, Muncie IN, New Orleans, New York City, Oneonta, Pittsburgh, Plattsburgh, Providence, Richmond VA, San Fernando Valley, San Francisco, Twin Cities, West Georgia (University)
Check out this great piece on our re-launch! It has a short video with Oraia and I in it too. Awesome.
Also, I did a guest blog post for the NYC Alliance Against Sexual Assault that was published today.
This happened on the F train on Wednesday morning, April 14, I think this guy got on at Roosevelt (I guess around 7 or 7:05?), and he got off at Union Turnpike at 7:15 or 7:20. The lady next to him was sleeping and leaning on him and her arm was slipping over her leg next to his, so he moved his arm over hers and was trying to hold her hand. I was looking at him b/c I’m like aren’t they strangers, why is he trying to touch her?
Then he just kept staring at me, and eventually put his hands down his pants for like 10 seconds. When we rolled into Union Turnpike he looked like he was getting ready to get up and so did I b/c that was my stop too so he hesitated and kept sitting there and would stand up. When I stepped off the train and looked back, he of course got off the train without her b/c he didn’t actually know her. I turned around and got back on the train and woke her up like hey wake up don’t miss your stop, and the guy next to you was practically holding your hand while you slept – but she was so sleepy it didn’t register.
Then I tried to report the incident to that hotline that the MTA has been advertising for sexual misconduct, and the lady that took my call was stone cold, couldn’t give two shits, and just told me that if the lady was an adult she has to report it herself. When I called right back to ask if that guy had touched himself in front of everyone, why can’t I report it, and she said that lady has to report it. I called back the next day and it was another operator, and she told me I could submit the picture to any precinct, and she told me where the nearest one is.
Take a few minutes and remember his face and if you see him on the train or in the neighborhood, stay away from him or get a cop or something if one is nearby.
Submitted by Christine
This is the seventh video in the “Why I Hollaback” series. “Why I Hollaback” tells the story of how and why folks decide to take the leap, speak up, and start Holla’ing back. We will release a new story every Monday and accept submissions from all over the world. So tell us your story — Why do you Hollaback?
One of the most frustrating things about living in a big city is the feeling that I can’t walk outside without being harassed on the street at least once a day. When I first started experiencing this I found it annoying, but as the years pass I become increasingly furious. Not a day goes by that I don’t experience one or more of the following: cat-calling, whistling, kissing noises, intensely seductive stares, or pointed glances up and down my body. Contrary to what many men think, this attention is not appreciated and not flattering, and I’m sure most women agree with me. This kind of attention is not like being given a complement …it’s not like being told, “you are beautiful.” It actually feels horrible; it makes me feel degraded and violated, but most of all, it makes me feel utterly powerless. I feel as if my body doesn’t belong to me, and this infuriates me more than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I have tried a variety of things to deal with this situation: I’ve tried saying things like, “what are you looking at?”, I’ve tried using my worst glares, evil eyes, and disgusted faces, I’ve tried looking through men to make them feel invisible, and I’ve tried ignoring them and staring straight ahead. When I talk back to men in a nasty tone of voice, they either pretend that they weren’t cat calling me (as if I was making it up and I should be so lucky to get their attention), or they get equally mad back at me. Glaring, staring through them, and ignoring them doesn’t prevent the harassment either, and it doesn’t make me feel better. No matter what I do, I never feel in control of the situation. I feel imprisoned—I am overly self-conscious about what I wear, and I dread the hot days when I have no choice but to wear semi-revealing clothing.
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I was walking to the Smith/9th street train station at 6.30 (wayyy to early to deal with this, not that I ever want to deal with it). The guy with the scooter and ponytail came up behind me and said “Good morning beautiful” in a “sexy voice.” Hmm how can you even tell if I’m beautiful or not when you haven’t seen my face? Obviously I’m only a pair of legs and an ass to you. I gave him my new standard response, which is a straightforward and directly said “Leave Me Alone.” As I was taking his picture his moronic friends (facing the camera) were begging me to take more!
(The guy on the left is just a by-stander so I cropped him out).
Submitted by Anne Marie
Submitted by Grace
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This is the sixth video in the “Why I Hollaback” series. “Why I Hollaback” tells the story of how and why folks decide to take the leap, speak up, and start Holla’ing back. We will release a new story every Monday and accept submissions from all over the world. So tell us your story — Why do you Hollaback?
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