Appalachian Ohio, Athens GA, Atlanta, Baltimore, Chicago, Cleveland, Columbia MO, Columbus, Denver, Des Moines, Durham & Chapel Hill, East Lansing, Fredericksburgh VA, Houston, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Lubbock TX, Manhattan KS, Muncie IN, New Orleans, New York City, NYU, Pittsburgh, Plattsburgh, Richmond VA, San Fernando Valley, San Francisco, SUNY Oneonta, Tucson, Twin Cities
I’ve had this body my whole life. I don’t remember the first time I got honked at or holla’d at, but it may have been as early as middle school. Because as soon as I hit puberty, wham! I had curves. Not that I can even say that is the full reason. It may lend to it, but the real reason is simply this: I’m a woman. If I’m walking down the street, then I’m fair game to any man who feels the need to holla.
I’m not a prude, I love my body, I’m comfortable in it. But I think about what I wear each morning in terms of what attention I’ll get as I walk down the street to the bus stop or work. Some days I just don’t feel like dealing with it, so I wear jeans and a t-shirt. I might not get honked at that day. But turns out, me feeling like I ain’t lookin’ cute–I still get honked at sometimes. I still have men pull up next to me trying to chat me up or offering me rides. But, if I wore a cute dress? It’s guaranteed to happen. In jeans and a t-shirt, it’s a question of whether I’ll have to deal with street harassment. In a dress, or anything slightly more “feminine”, it’s a question of when.
I live about a seven minute walk from the bus stop where I took the bus to school last semester, and about ten minute walk from my job. No, I wasn’t harassed every day. But a lot of days. It’s more annoying when I get honked at (from the front and from the back, but from the back most often), but at least that’s not coming into my bubble. It really creeps me out when men pull up next to me, try to offer me rides and crap. I mean, seriously? I’m not five anymore, but I pretty much still abide with the idea of not getting in cars with strangers.
I have very fortunately never had to deal with any actual assault. I am extremely grateful every time a man backs off and drives away. I hate that I feel fear every time a man pulls up next to me. What if all he wants is to ask directions? It’s never happened. I don’t even give them the benefit of the doubt anymore, and I hate that. I don’t want to be a feminist man-hater. But considering my work is primarily in the area of intimate partner violence, and my own experience with harassment–it’s hard sometimes. I know a lot of great men who treat women well. But I ask of them–do you call off your friends when they try to holla at the girls? If you don’t–then you’re just as bad–someone who stands idly by.
Anyone who thinks street harassment is harmless, ask yourself why the men are doing it. Do they really just want to tell me how beautiful I am? It’s a power play, showing me and and other women who walk down the street that men are still in control. In the society we live in, it’s accepted that you shouldn’t walk around at night, especially alone. But I don’t. This happens in the middle of the day. In broad daylight. In front of many other people in their cars. So don’t try to tell me it isn’t about putting on a show.
Race may be involved with street harassment for some, but you won’t find me saying that. My body apparently is equal opportunity trigger for men of all ages and races. I can’t even say one race does it more, because they don’t. Just depends what part of town I’m in.
I will not stop walking everywhere. I will not be intimidated by men trying to show me who is in control. And I am speaking up. You try to holla, and you better believe I will hollaback.
Hollaback is an organization speaking against street harassment by collecting people’s stories. My story was posted a couple of months ago. I invite you to take part in speaking up. You can also follow them on twitter.
It’s time to be the change.
Reposted from Dancing with Me
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