Over a year ago, this creepy man selling newspapers turned around as I was approaching Whole Foods, looked me up and down, licked his lips, and then grunted and proceeded to say, “Aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
After telling a store employee, I avoided that store for a while since he was always there, but I had confronted him a few months later and he had absolutely no recollection of it (or acted like it). I still see this loser from time to time and still get pissed. It’s crazy how men can just be creepy to women and not have any consequences or even have it register in their memory, when women remember these incidences for a long time after.
Days like today make me want to move out of the city and live in solitude somewhere in the country where I don’t have to be harassed DAILY, sometimes within seconds of leaving my house. I was catcalled and verbally assaulted three times today!
This Sunday is a gorgeous, sunny, breezy day in San Francisco. I am wearing a black racerback tank and stretchy workout pants. I stepped outside sans sweater to walk my dogs, which I don’t get to do often in my ‘hood. You know when you can tell someone is going to say something to you? I felt that as I approached two men talking at the edge of their driveway and sure enough, despite my headphones in, I hear a loud “good morning” followed by a whistle. The most disturbing part was that two young girls playing in the same driveway no older than 6-7 witnessed what happened. I ignored him and the rest of the walk I thought about what kind of example these men are to those girls. They will grow up thinking that behavior is normal and acceptable and I want to cry thinking about that fact as I write this.
Second incident- I decided to walk to the gym rather than take a bus and my nice walk was abruptly interrupted by three men in a pickup truck that drove by slowly and made kissy faces at me. Rattled, disgusted and angry with myself for not wearing my sweatshirt, I flipped them off and continued towards the gym.
Third incident- Walking home from the gym, proud of a solid workout and thinking about my dinner plans this evening, I walked on the sidewalk toward a man digging through the trunk of his parked car. Again, with headphones in, the man ignored my clear “don’t talk to me” signal and murmured something as I walked by. I ignored him. Then, in a louder voice he exclaimed, “Uh-oh, she’s grumpy!” Furious, I yelled “fuck you!” and flipped him off. To that he responded, “Well, that’s the only way I can get your attention, dirty hoe slut.” I continued flipping him off and hurried home. I feel so awful and don’t even want to leave my house for my plans later. I’m pissed that I let these animals get the best of me. I’m angry that I don’t say more out of fear that I might be attacked.
This is a very real problem in San Francisco and I am beyond fed up.
Estaba con dos amigas volviendo a casa después de una cena maravillosa y estábamos hablando tranquilamente y caminando a casa con calma.
La calle era estrecha y donde pasan los peatones aún más, y había una escuela con tres tipos sentados en la valla que suele haber justo fuera de la puerta principal. Teníamos que pasar por donde estaban pero no tenía porqué ser incómodo ni nada. Pero mientras acercamos estaba claro que no iba a ser así.
Mientras acercamos y pasamos podríamos sentir sus miradas fijas siguiéndonos y como teníamos que pasar de tan cerca lo notó como algo tan fuerte y si como si las miradas me quemaban la cara. Era muy intimidate, incluso estando con dos amigas. Al pasar uno de ellos dijo “nosotros también somos tres”, seguimos caminando y empezaron a decir más cosas, no me enteré de lo que dijeron pero me parecía que alguna frase era para nosotras y alguna otra era conversación entre ellos sobre nosotras, pero suficientemente alto para que los escuchamos.
No lo dejé pasar. Me paré, les miré con cara de no muy contenta (pero con nada de agresividad, me daban miedo) y les dije “¿qué pasa?”. El tío no dice nada pero hace gestos que dicen “que pasa? No estábamos hablado con vosotras, ¿no podemos hablar entre nosotros tranquilamente sin que te enfades por ninguna razón como una loca?”, les dije “aaah, entonces hablando sooobre nosotras?”
Se ponían a hablar entre ellos, incomodados, y yo me fui con mis amigas. Me alegro mucho de haber parado y haber dicho algo. A ver si paran a pensar la próxima vez ahora que las mujeres empezamos a responder.
I cycle to work everyday. I have had to change my route recently because I can’t cope with the verbal and non-verbal abuse e.g. comments about my appearance and objectification towards me making comments about my body and bum for example. I am wearing lycra yes- and?
Minding my own business in the cycle lane a highway maintenance van with three men in the front slowed up and started making kissing faces and gestering sexually. I tried to lag behind as I was getting upset.They continued to look back and comment. This is one example of many I have when cycling on my bike.
I’m 15 and am always being street harassed. Part of the time it’s at school. I have been assualted and verbally harassed. It doesn’t make me feel better. I gave into it before and let boys do what they wanted. But I got to much attention for my ass and things got way to out of hand. I’m currently doing a factoid friday/infomercial about the topic street harassment and it’s made me stronger the facts I know. And to also know that I’m not alone in this is great. But this situation still goes on in my life and I want it to stop.
It may be fall, but this week has felt like spring here in New York! Regardless, ‘tis the season to make waves, and here’s what’s been going on at HQ:
That’s all for HQ updates! Here’s what’s been going on with our sites around the world:
Thanks for all the awesome work, Hollas! We can’t wait to see what next week will bring!
Holla and out!
–the Hollaback! Team
Today, a man drove up alongside me in an SUV and started making fun of my clothing. I ignored him. He kept commenting on what I was wearing. It is October. I had on a shirt, floor-length skirt, and a sweater. I kept ignoring him. He screamed at me, calling me “a bitch” for not acknowledging him.
A few years ago for Halloween, my friends and I went to Salem, Massachusetts, as was becoming our tradition after going several years in a row. My friend’s 15-year-old daughter was with us, my surrogate niece. She and I spent a good portion of the day wandering the town. At various times, I kept feeling a man watching us, which could not have been creepier, and since it was Halloween, he had on a hockey mask like the character Jason from the horror movie Friday the 13th. Each time I saw him watching us I linked arms with my “niece” and moved into the group of everyone else, eventually bringing up that it couldn’t be coincidental that he was literally in doorways behind us or looking around building corners at us every so often.
After a full day out and still wandering near dinner time, my “niece” and I found ourselves a few steps behind our group, chatting away. As she was talking I heard a very low, deep voice FAR too close to us saying,”bitches…” over and over. I thought I would throw up. I grabbed her, not even needing to turn around and started running and screaming for help. A friend’s husband and several men we’d never met had to step in and physically drag him to police officers because this horrifying man was chasing after us and became so fixated, he was completely out of control.
That was far from the first time I have been harassed, followed, catcalled, verbally abused for no reason and petrified of a strange man on the street. Unfortunately it was a terrible lesson in “the danger of being female and in public” for a 15 year old girl that night.
A man approached me as I was coming out of class. He asked me if I was interested in prostituting and making us some money in Miami. He said “you do it for free.” He commented on my body and told me how I was making his dick hard. I reported it to the police. The responding officer asked “have you never been hit on before?”
I was strolling around downtown Portland with my boyfriend. Just moved to the area, first time visiting the city. We walked by a little park area where this man dressed in bright orange was complaining very loudly about his “whore mother.” My boyfriend and I just walked past, but I guess the guy must’ve caught sight of me because he started following us. He was walking closer behind and yelling at me about my dyed hair for a while. “Little American girl, why have you colored your hair? Why have you done that? It looks terrible. Not sexy,” stuff like that. I wasn’t looking or responding, so he decided to call me a “worthless American cunt” and finally turn in another direction. All of this was said in a terrible French accent, which he definitely wasn’t speaking in before. All of it was just bizarre. Anyway, we got to our destination and my boyfriend asked why I looked like I was about to panic. Apparently he hadn’t even noticed the creep following us for several blocks and yelling at me. We continued walking around after lunch and I kept having to change sidewalks, hide in shops, or literally run down alleys to get away from this creep who just kept popping up everywhere. At least he wasn’t hard to notice because of his outfit and need to be so loud.