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The first Annual Westside Domestic Violence Walk will take place on Thursday, October 28th from 10:30am to 1pm, in honor of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. According to the organizers, “This walk is to educate and raise awareness in the community about the issue of domestic violence and to join other advocates, treatment providers, survivors and community members in solidarity against domestic violence and its devastating impact on individuals, society and our healthcare system. We will gather in front of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine on Amsterdam Avenue and 112th Street at 10:30 am for a rally before the one mile walk down to 100th Street on Amsterdam Avenue, turning to Broadway and back up to the Cathedral where there will be speakers and refreshments.”
As we well know, all forms of sexual violence work together to create a world that is not-so-nice to women and LBGTQ folks. At the national sexual assault conference this year, I had the opportunity to meet with a woman who was at the head of the domestic violence movement when it started. She said it was started by a bunch of survivors, in a living room, with little more than some telephones and a lot of passion. This woman went for six years without being paid. Only forty years later, there is a notable infrastructure for survivors of domestic violence around the country.
I told her I thought the movement to end street harassment was blessed. The support was overwhelming, and although we didn’t have any money, we had a lot of passion in living rooms across the world. She said that’s all it takes. She said we were doing the right thing by coming forward and telling our stories; that’s where it all starts. I smiled, humbled. We wouldn’t be doing this work if women like her didn’t come before us. Hats off to her, and hats off to the Domestic Violence walk for continuing to build a world where everyone can be safe and free.
I was walking down a country road in rural PA with my mother, who is a disabled woman. As we walked a truck full of young men drove past. They then hit their brakes and reversed towards us. One was in the bed of the truck and another hanging out the door leering at me. They asked me who I was and we kept walking. They drove slowly pacing us for about 2 minutes, then called me a bitch for not answering their catcalls and yelled out “We know where you live!” before spinning tire and speeding off.
The one in the bed of the truck acted like he was going to jump out and come up to us at any minute, and there was no where to go. I don’t know how I would have protected my mother if he had tried anything.
It was so scary because it is a small town, we were walking on the road my mother lives on, and they probably did know where we lived!
Submitted by Sabrina
We are proud to announce the newest of the Hollaback sites: Hollaback San Jose!
They write on their blog, “After years of being yelled at, whistled at, of having our space invaded, of being made to feel that we walk the streets at our own peril, we are ready to assert our right to feel safe, sexy and confident in public. It happens to all of us, and we’ve learned to drown it out. We’re told to ignore it, to keep walking– but that is exactly why it keeps happening.”
We’ll keep you posted on the incredible work that San Jose is up to. In the meantime, if you live in the San Jose area, HOLLABACK! You can email it to: firstname.lastname@example.org.
I was walking home from [law] school last night around 10:20 p.m. My walk is only about 15 minutes, from Tribeca to the Financial District, and I normally walk very rapidly.
I’m always aware of my surroundings, especially at night, and am careful to remain in well-lit areas where other people are as well. As I was walking down Broadway, I noticed 2 boys in front of me. One was on a razr-type scooter, the other one (orange polo) was just walking.
Eventually I passed them, and as I did, the one of the scooter, who had been going around in a circle said, “Hey gorgeous.” I ignored him and walked faster. After about 30 seconds I could hear both of them behind me, and they were beginning to keep pace with me. They followed me all the way down Broadway, to Fulton Street. Along the way, they were muttering things to each other like “Yeah, she does have a nice ass though.” I probably behaved pretty stupidly, but I thought because there were people all around me, that these guys would give up and leave eventually. They seemed younger and weren’t overly intimidating. I pulled my phone out and had 911 ready-dialed in case it escalated too quickly. They continued to follow me down Fulton Street, but eventually the guy on the scooter pulled back. The second guy was still keeping stride, though, and as I neared a cross street, I heard the scooter guy yell, “Now, Man (Max, Mac?)” and the guy in the orange polo said “Now?,” began running past me, and grabbed my ass. He then slowed, stood at the next corner, and watched me pass. I felt so violated and completely degraded. I took a picture of him with my camera phone as I walked by him, because it\’s all I could think to do, but it came out very blurry.
I was sitting on a blanket in Prospect Park on the grass (near the baseball fields off of the 9th St/PPW entrance) having a lovely time, when squarely build dude of medium height in jeans with a hoody pulled over his head started prowling around hear the “Tennis House” (looks like a pavilion) in the trees behind me. My alarms went off so I kept my eye on him and, sure enough, he positioned himself sort-of behind a bush, pulled out his dick and started beating off while staring at me.
I stood up and yelled at him to leave but he just kept on and wouldn’t budge. Just stood there, staring at me for several minutes. Finally, I summoned a guy who was walking past and told him what was happening, and the perv retreated back into the woods when the guy saw him. Called the cops, who drove to the park but who just stared motionless at me when I suggested they get out of their car on Prospect Park West to come into the park and so I could show them where the guy was hiding. Told some nearby ladies and couples on blankets. A dude who was with his wife and toddler daughter kind of laughed at the story and said “Oh yeah, I know. I heard you yelling at the guy.”
Well, dear gentleman, if you knew what was happening why didn’t you come over and back me up?
I’m so pissed. It’s a gorgeous day but this made me too uncomfortable so I left the park.
Submitted by Sarah
I was out jogging on a Sunday morning around 11:00 AM while visiting my in-laws, who live 2 blocks from Frontier Park in Erie, PA. A tall, brown-fuzzy-haired, fit, attractive college-y looking guy in his early 20′s with wire-frame glasses in red basketball shorts and a grey t-shirt passed me, smiled, and said “hi.” I’m a New Yorker so I don’t usually greet strangers but I figured it was probably common courtesy in Erie, so I said “hello.”
A split second later he came up from behind me, pulled me up against him, and groped my crotch. I elbowed him and he bolted down the street where my in-laws live. My husband and his family drove around the neighborhood searching for hours and never saw him. To my knowledge the cops never caught him either.
J’aime Olm is amazing. She just won the techdisrupt competition with her idea on creating a “black box” for women’s safety. She also did something totally unheard of. She used her six minutes on stage to shout-out another start-up. You guessed it, Hollaback. She comes on stage at about minute four.
She has won our hearts. We’ll keep you posted when her app comes out.
This is simply amazing. This kid “Astro” must be 8? 10? and is rapping about men who stare and harass his mom on the street. My favorite line, “she’s an independent lady let her stay like that. Stay fly work hard it’s OK like that.” It’s super-fun and catchy, but it also makes me think about how street harassment negatively impacts kids too. Like this kid, I was also the child of a single mom, and we went everywhere together. I saw what she saw. And when what you see is a world where the most amazing lady you’ve ever met is publicly degraded on a regular basis, it starts to shape the way that you look at the world and the people in it.
Probably the most obvious effect is that it makes street harassment normal. We tend to think of things that are normal as permanent, immutable. But not so long ago, having separate water fountains for “coloured folks” was normal. Giving only white dudes the right to vote was normal. A world without handicap parking spaces was normal, too. But some bold people saw “normal” was also short-sighted, and their “abnormal” visions have made the world better for all of us. So screw normal. Let’s bring on the street harassment revolution. Astro’s already written the anthem.
Living in New York (and Philadelphia before that) I’ve been harassed almost on a daily basis. Most of the time I walk away from the incident feeling upset that I didn’t or couldn’t make my harasser feel as violated and threatened as he made me feel. So not too long ago, as I was returning to my office from a Starbucks break, a man leaned into my path and loudly said “SEXY.” He began to walk behind me. I wish there were a way to describe how thick and disgusting his voice was. Combined with the fact that he was raping me with his eyes and that at least 3 other men had tried to talk to me on my way to Starbucks, I was enraged. I turned around immediately and made like I was going to throw my hot tea into his face. He shrieked, apologized, and backed off.
I’ve been getting a ton of backlash for doing this (especially from male friends, no surprise there), although I never would have actually thrown the tea on him–not unless he had put his hands on me. He was following me, and was behaving the same way as men who had grabbed or touched me in the past. I have a right to walk wherever I please without being sexually harassed, and I also reserve the right to pose a physical threat to anyone who poses one to me. The only thing I’m sorry for is that I couldn’t snap a picture of him too.
Submitted by Gabrielle
The scene: an extremely crowded G-train shuttle bus on a Saturday afternoon. Everyone was packed onto the train, everyone’s bodies were touching each other, but I was surprised to feel someone’s hand squeezing my ass. I looked behind me and saw a man’s hand poised there behind his back–still in a cupped position as if he felt no shame or need to hide his covert grope. I was completely enraged and I turned around, grabbed him by the shoulder, and shouted “Did you just grab my ass? Because you totally just did!”
For the first instant he looked shocked but he suddenly became angry and yelled back (though much quieter than me), “Shut the fuck up, you ugly bitch, or I’ll smack the shit out of you.” Now, the bus was very crowded, and I knew he wasn’t going to hit me, though I wish he would have so I could have beaten the hell out of him. So I replied, “You’re going to hit me because you groped me on a crowded subway shuttle and I noticed? Are you kidding me?” at which point he turns around and starts ignoring me. I turn to the friend I’m with and say as loudly as I can “That douchebag just grabbed my ass,” she responds “What a fucking freak,” etc., and I stand close to him glaring the rest of the ride.
I handled the incident just like I always hoped I would, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel shaken and violated. It was absolutely horrible. From this incident onward (about 4.5 months ago), I tell street harassers to fuck off on a regular basis–even if they say “You look gorgeous” or “God bless you.” It feels good, but it doesn’t come close to completely counteracting the feelings of victimization, rage and sadness that come along with being harassed on a daily basis for being a woman.
Submitted by Rachel