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This week’s edition is all about PRIDE. We are proud of the tremendous progress made for LGBTQ individuals this year, proud of the tremendous legacy left by our interns Natalie and Victoria, and proud to have Rikera and Sunny on our team this summer. Here’s the details:
PRIDE! We marched with over 45 fellow Hollabackers this year in New York City’s PRIDE parade — it was incredible. Thanks to everyone who marched with us! We also met with Kate McDonough, lead organizer at Empire State Pride Agenda this week to discuss collaboration.
Duke’s Moxie Project Visits Hollaback! We are lucky to have two interns on board with us this summer from Duke — Rikera Taylor and Sunny Frothingham. The rest of their cohort came to visit Hollaback! on Friday, and I spoke with them about what it was like grow Hollaback from the ground up.
A big thank you to Natalie and Victoria! We are so grateful to our volunteers Natalie Richman and Victoria Travers for their many, many months of service to Hollaback!. Natalie worked with us to grow our legislative relationships and was a critical component to the success of our first safety audit in Queen. Victoria designed the blog that you know today – even this “week in our shoes” column was her idea! Their legacy will be felt for years moving forward, and we wish them the best of luck in their future endeavors.
HOLLA and out —
I was going home by bike, it was after 10 o’clock in the evening and it was already getting quite dark. I was waiting for the traffic lights to change at the bikeway at the crossroads.
Right in front me, a bus stopped and a young woman stepped out of the bus and went down the street.
Suddenly a male voice (one of a group) shouted out of one of the cars waiting at the other side of the street: “Wow, she is so hot!” (tried to translate it as best as I could). I think it was directed to the woman, not to me (I’m female as well) but I’m not completely sure.
She walked on without reacting (visibly). When the traffic lights turned green, I drove on and again the man started shouting, this time – it seemed – at me. I gave him the finger. The I drove home as fast as I could.
I’m sorry that I didn’t stop to ask the other girl if she was ok or if I should escort her home or something. I was just so shocked myself and couldn’t really think clearly until I was home.
Cross-Posted from Travelling Legally
Caution: The following includes some liberal use of four-letter words. Be aware, read with care.
When I woke up this morning, I planned for this to be a pleasant post about how nice it is to go to a familiar church when living abroad.
Not so much, now.
I don’t go to church when I’m away from home. I usually try to go when I’m back in Calgary, mainly because I’ve known the congregation there since I was five and I like to catch up with everyone when I’m in town. But through the magic of Google, I found that there’s a church of my denomination here in KL, and three weeks ago I decided to see what the service was like.
I had a lovely time, met some nice people, and decided I would try to go back soon.
Cue this morning. I got up, went to church, enjoyed an interesting service with lovely music, and was planning to meet some new people over tea afterwards before heading out to do some souvenir shopping.
No exaggeration – as soon as I walked out of the sanctuary, I had four different guys try to pick me up in the space of ten minutes. One didn’t even bother telling me his name before asking for my number. After dealing with that one, I was so flustered that I gave away my actual email address to two guys because I was too thrown to figure out how to get them to leave me alone.
Particularly noteworthy was this conversation:
Guy: So we should talk again some time.
Me: Oh, um, I guess.
Guy: What’s your number?
Me: I lost my phone when I was out last night. [NB: not true.]
Guy: Okay, what’s your email?
Me: Um. I guess I could write it down for you.
Guy: So did you come here alone?
Me: Uh, I’m living with some friends.
Guy: But did you come to Malaysia alone?
Me: … Yeah, I guess.
Guy: You’re my kind of person.
Trust me, there is a lot of subtext to be read when a strange man asks a young woman, “So did you come to this country alone?” In this circumstance most of that subtext was not pleasant.
Look, this isn’t me complaining about people in Malaysia, or churchgoers, or even this church in particular. I had a really nice time the first time I went; there are clearly lots of nice people at this church. I also happen to love plenty of churchgoers generally, and most of the people I’ve met in Malaysia have been truly wonderful people.
No, this is me complaining about the kind of men who think that it’s a good idea to treat women like pieces of meat after sitting through an hour-and-a-half long sermon about how we’re all heritors of Christ’s goodness because we are all equals as children of God. Are you kidding me? So long as I can walk out of a service and immediately get accosted by a guy whose first words to me are “You’re so beautiful, I really enjoyed sitting beside you,” we are not freaking equals.
I am so sick of men (and yes, it is only ever men) acting like they have the right to get in my space, ask for my personal information like it’s on offer, and make me feel unsafe. And believe me, this is not just about Malaysia. Let me tell you about the time in Ottawa that a guy followed me all ten blocks from a friend’s place back to my apartment at 2 am. Or the other time in Ottawa that a drunk guy came up behind me on the sidewalk and just grabbed my ass while I was walking home. (When asked “Did you actually just grab my ass, you fucker?” his response was “Hell yeah!”) Oh, or the time in Edmonton I was crossing the street on my way to a party and some dude in a pick-up truck took it upon himself to lean out the window and yell “FAGS!” loudly and repeatedly at me and my friends. The uncountable number of times men have decided they get to comment on my appearance just because I have the audacity to be a woman out in public.
I will say this as clearly as I can: if you comment on the appearance of women you don’t know in public, you’re a jerk. If you ask women for their phone number before you ask for their name, you’re a jerk. If you make women feel like they have to giggle uncomfortably and keep talking to you while looking around carefully for an exit, you’re a jerk. If you know anyone who does these things and you don’t tell them to stop, you’re a jerk, too.
Seriously. Stop it.
The worst thing about these incidents is that the way they happen leaves you with a vanishingly small amount of space to respond. Sometimes it happens so fast that by the time you’ve processed what’s happened, the guy is gone. Sometimes you feel so scared to do or say anything that you just pull your jacket tighter and keep walking. Sometimes you try to call the fucker on it and his response is “Hell yeah!”. It makes you feel powerless, and it makes you feel weak.
I can’t do much about these incidents, but I can do something so I don’t feel so useless whenever I’m not able to directly respond. From here on out, any time I get harassed on the street, I’m donating $5 for each gross jerk to Hollaback, a non-profit dedicated to ending street harassment. Maybe it will help us end this crap sooner rather than later.
Cross Posted from Hips and Hangers
I want to take a minute to talk about something serious- street harassment. I’ve never met a woman that hasn’t had to deal with cat calls, whistles, and/or unwanted advances at some point in her life. It’s something I face about 2-3 times a week as part of my commute to work. Most days I can shrug it off with a witty remark, but Tuesday I dealt with five separate instances of street harassment.
1. 9:00am- On the platform at the train station: “Good morning beautiful”. I sigh, roll my eyes and walk away.
2. 9:20am- On the bus a guy sits super close and says “hey baby, how’s your day going?”. I say “It was going fine until you invaded my personal space” and change seats.
3. 9:25am- Walking from the bus to work, I get honked at and whistled at by a truck full of workers. The driver almost hits a biker because he isn’t watching the road. I give them the finger and shout “watch the road”. One of the men calls me a stupid bitch.
4. 2:45pm- Out of work early for the Holiday and excited to go meet up with my guy for a late lunch, I’m walking quickly to the bus. While waiting at an intersection for the walk signal a guy says “Excuse me” thinking he’s going to ask me for directions, I acknowledge him. He follows up with “where’s your boyfriend pretty girl.” I say “Please leave me alone loudly” and cross the street.
5. 9pm- Walking with my boyfriend enjoying the beautiful summer evening listening to him tell a funny story when I am distracted by kissy noises and calls of “damn, girl” and “hey sexy” from three men sitting on a stoop. I glare at them, drop my boyfriend’s arm and say “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He looks confused because he didn’t hear any of it. I explain what happened and that I would have said something back to them had he not been with me. They outnumbered him 3 to 1, and I didn’t want to start anything. I then vent to him about my day. I’m shocked that this happened with him. Normally men don’t bother you if you appear to “belong” to someone else.
By the end of the day I felt unsafe, pissed, annoyed, anxious, and sad.
I don’t know what it is that makes some men think that I get dressed for them in the morning, but I don’t. I get dressed for me. This sundress is for me! Women deserve to live in a culture where we can walk freely in our communities without fear of harassment or assault.
Pretty mundane, I suppose, but as I was walking to work the other day, in a modest though flattering outfit, I passed a man outside a bodega who regarded me with “mm mm mm mm mm!” – the same intonations as a Quizno’s commercial. Perhaps the product placement wasn’t exactly the connection he intended to make, but I literally carried for the rest of the day the fact that the man had the same response to MY BODY as a SANDWICH COMPANY would like you to react to their subs.
Gettin on the Blue Line & this youngish guy gives me a predatory look & says “I see you been workin out” He gets up from across the aisle to come sit next to me. I immediately get up & move across the train. He mutters “I’m sorry” as I get up. Leave me alone! I’m tired from work & don’t need this.
Guy walking behind me and my friend mumbling something. We turned around and he said, “Sorry but you fine!”
Recently, we spoke with Maggie Hadleigh-West, filmmaker of the fascinating 1998 street harassment documentary film, War Zone. As Maggie describes on her website, War Zone is about “sex, power and what happens when men—either knowingly or unknowingly—threaten a woman’s right to walk undisturbed on the streets.” In shooting the documentary, Maggie turned her camera on catcallers, giving us all a peek into the mind of the harasser. Here’s what Maggie had to say about her activism, what inspires her, and War Zone, her amazing videoHOLLA:
Most importantly, where can we find War Zone?
http://www.snagfilms.com/films/title/war_zone, or my website if you just want to see the trailer, http://www.yomaggie.com/
Tell us a bit about how you got involved in activism and the street harassment movement.
Well, for as long as I can remember I’ve been an activist. My first feminist outrage was realizing I was going to probably have to change my name when I married some guy! I was about 6. Also I grew up with two brothers and a very sexist father so from the beginning I was very clear that there was an extreme inequity. The first time I remember championing anything was I was in elementary school, and I was defending kids that were mentally challenged. That was second grade or something like that.
As for street harassment, I became pretty outraged about street abuse some time in my early 20’s, and when I moved to New York in my late 20’s, I became really crazed about it!
Is that awareness what inspired you to film War Zone? Was there a specific trigger point?
It was a combination of that awareness and some experiences in my personal life—I had a boyfriend at the time that I really loved, and he really didn’t seem to understand the impact street harassment had on me. I would talk to him about my experiences, particularly about a specific group of men in the neighborhood who repeatedly harassed me, and my boyfriend recommended that I carry mace and spray the guys. I remember thinking to myself, “this guy who loves me doesn’t understand the threat of street harassment or how it impacts my feeling of safety. These guys know where I live!” and I knew that was also true of other men in my family. It occurred to me that most men probably didn’t quite “get it” either. That was my early inspiration, although I didn’t really know what I was going to do about it. Then one day I bought a camera. I woke up the next morning and thought “Oh. Now I have a weapon!”
Interesting, so the film just sort of developed out of your growing interest and conversations you had about street harassment.
Yea. That’s generally how I work on all my films. “Player Hating: A Love Story,” my most recent film, developed right out of War Zone. I noticed that many of the men who were on the streets were disenfranchised men, and I started to think about how those men dealt with the disenfranchisement they felt from the overall culture.
That lack of understanding about the impact of street harassment that you mentioned earlier seems unfortunately widespread—in a news interview about War Zone, I saw a reporter describe street harassment as “street flirting.” What did you think of that?
Well, he, like many, was just ignorant of the impact of street harassment. And sadly, for some men, they do think of their harassment as flirting.
Your film really did capture the wide range of how men view their harassment. What do you think of as the most memorable moment or interaction captured in War Zone?
Probably Joe, the guy at the end of the movie. When I filmed him I wasn’t actually shooting for the movie—when I turned on the camera I had thought of it as collecting evidence because I was certain he was a predator. So I was in a totally different frame of mind compared to the rest of the movie. I was calm during regular shooting because I was gathering information, not trying to protect myself and other women.
Do you have any other memorable street harassment stories that you can share with us?
I have so many. One of the most surprising was when a seven year old boy harassed me, referencing my body parts, and it was just so clear he was copying something he’d heard from an older man. Another time, there was a guy on my street who I always tried to ignore because he was a drug dealer, and one day I was wearing a man’s winter coat as I passed him by. He called out to me “Baby, you’re getting fatter!” and I turned around and said “You’re getting stupider!” and we actually both started laughing. Another time I was on the subway, and I saw some young boys target me, and one kid walked up to me. He didn’t say anything but just took a physical stance and stepped into my personal space. I didn’t move at all, and he was about 10 inches from my face when I just smiled really big at him and said “WHASSUP!!” And he just burst out laughing. Another story I can relay happened to a friend– a guy was getting aggressive with her, she got scared and wasn’t sure what to do, so she turned around and yelled really load in his face, “DO YOU KNOW THE TIME??!!” And I think that just seemed so crazy that it worked in terms of him leaving her alone.
So you have definitely seen a wide range of types of harassing behaviors. What do you think is the best way for people to combat street harassment?
Just get out of the space—to me, safety is the most important thing, because of the relationship between street abuse and sexual assault, rape, and murder. It can be a very direct trajectory sometimes. Also using non-confrontational, non-aggressive, classic “sexual assault” language, like “stay away,” “I’m not interested in you,” being definitive but not escalating the situation, and then absolutely reporting the incident later on.
We’re all about reporting! Do you remember how you first heard about Hollaback?
Yes, some of the founding members of Hollaback had contacted me about War Zone a few years back when it had just begun.
It’s a great video resource. Do you have any other favorite resources on street harassment that you’d recommend?
“Back Off” by Martha Langelan was a good resource years ago, but I’d don’t know if it’s been updated-or even if it needs to be, but I really think Hollaback is the best resource.
Thanks! So what else do you think everyone should know about street harassment?
I feel like the most important thing that isn’t addressed a lot is reporting things to the police, or to organizations like Hollaback, when women are harassed. It’s just so common, and so rarely reported, and I think that increasing reporting is going to be one of the things that will eventually change everything.
While I don’t recommend taking pictures while you drive, I got so upset after this truck sped up to be next to my car just to honk. Yes, I get it, I’m wearing a dress. It’s 101 degrees outside, after all. The worst part? I can see the future when it comes to street harassment.
Just because the temperature is rising, doesn’t mean that street harassment has to.