Verbal

Ten Year Old Harasser – I kid you not

I’m a pretty shy awkward teenager, and I’m 15 years old, and when men yell things at me, or honk at me or make kissy faces, it gets me mad but I don’t do anything, but it gets me fuming mad. And only hours later do i think of funny things to embarass them for being such assholes. But most the time they get away with it.

BUT NOT TODAY! 8D

It’s a simple summer afternoon. I’m out with my friends at borders, and across the street is a candy store. All the rest of my friends are being lazy, so my friend Lucas and I decide to go ahead.

So we do. It’s been raining out, and I don’t want to get my flip flops wet. Lucas, being the funny and nice person he is, offers to put them in his pocket so they don’t. As he’s doing so, 3 boys, wearing volcom stone tee shirts and *gag8 corduroy pants, in either the colors blue, purple (!!!), come up to us, and ask “Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Simple and innocent question, right? So I turn to them and say “No, we’re just friends! :)”

And their reaction is less than polite. They turn to my friend and say “DUDE! You have no game! YOu should be pounding her!”

“HEY!” I yell out. “Guys and girls can be perfectly good friends!”

“Not when his balls drop and your breasts get bigger!” He sneers

These boys are 10 years old. I don’t know if they watch too much television, or have older brothers that can’t keep their mouth shut, but…

10 YEAR OLD BOYS SHOULD NOT KNOW THIS STUFF!

This goes on for 5 minutes. I ask them to stop and they say “NO.”

Finally, one boys yells “DUDE! Your mom is here to pick us up!”

The drop the whole conversation and run to the car. I follow them, go up to their mother’s window and knock on it.

“Excuse me…” I begin. “Sorry to bother you, but I was with my friend and your son, or your friends son.. they all said some very inappropriate stuff to me…”

I was lucky. It was raining, and I had a shopping bag over my head to keep me dry. I had been so humiliated I was about to cry. But I was lucky. The woman was a nice gracious person, and a respectable mother too. Her reaction: Jaw dropping, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowing.

By now, the boys know what I am doing and they yell: “MOM! She’s crazy! Don’t listen to her!”

But woman are not as stupid as they think.

The woman turns to her son and 2 friends and yells “SAY SORRY TO HER ***NOW***!”

The leader says “OKAY! BYE!”

“I said, say sorry!”

“OKAY SORRY!”

“SAY SORRY!”

“I’M SORRY! THERE! HAPPY?!”

The woman turns to me and apoligizes. “I’m SO sorry! They’re boys, its hormones… It doesn’t excuse them.. I”M SO SORRY!”

I nod to the woman and say. “Thank you. SOrry I bothered you.” Then I turn to the boys. “Sorry you’re NOT sorry!” I run away.

Now, I enter borders again, wet, and about to cry, but I begin laughing, thinking “OHMIGOSH they are in sooooo much trouble!”

The end. And I give you a picture of a Corduroy Pervert, so you can identify any in your neighborhood or town.

Submitted by Connor (heck yes i’m a girl)

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Nonverbal Harassment

Not Subtle Enough

So I walk into my local staples in Brooklyn. As I walk past the copy area this balding perv looks at me and follows with head and eyeballs every step I make. I say lapfly “well that wasn’t subtle enough d@@@” 

I get what I need but as I’m looking it over he has the nerve to throw this weak comeback “if you didn’t want to be stared at you shouldn’t go outside“. No jerk.

There’s a difference between a glance and visually harrassing and undressing someone with your eyes. He then kept standing there saying he wasn’t doing anything wrong and gesturing to the copy center.

I said I was going to report him and he smugs “how?”. The power of blackberry my friend. That’s how.

Women don’t like to be harrassed and leered at. When will these prevs get that?

 

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union square, Verbal

I Don’t Need a Lesson on the Law…

I was on a very crowded and cramped 4 train heading home from work on a Monday evening. When we got to 14th Street/Union Square, this loud, obnoxious man, who reeked of alcohol, shoved his way onto the packed train with his friends. As they pushed their way in, they started spewing all of these ignorant statements and obscenities at everyone that was standing around them. Needless to say, the other passengers looked annoyed, embarrassed and very uncomfortable as he and his friends carried on. 

Finally, an older woman that was standing next to him politely asked if he could tone down his language. Unfortunately, the main jerk directed his drunken wrath at her by telling her that he could say “whatever the fuck” he wanted to because it was a free country and he had his first amendment right to do so. The woman tried to calmly reason with him but he continued cursing and and said that she, as a white woman, had no right to talk to him. The woman finally just moved away while he continued shouting and laughing at her with his friends.

At that point, I was boiling mad and felt like I had to do something. That’s when I took out my camera phone and started snapping this fool from behind (he’s the one in the burgundy shirt). The women standing near me smiled and nodded approvingly.

Once the train reached Grand Central, a bunch of people got off but the jerk and his cronies stayed on, still shooting off at the mouth. I kept snapping as they turned around, wanting them to know what I was doing. When one of them saw me, he yelped, “Hey, you can’t take my picture!” He started to lecture me on his rights when I flatly told him that I was a lawyer and I didn’t need a lesson on the law.

He got quiet but not before the main jerk told him to leave me alone because I was a black woman and that I shouldn’t be disrespected. Are you kidding me??? Then he had the nerve to try and “holla” at me by looking me up and down and telling me that I was the “queen of the Earth” but I just glared right at him. When he saw he didn’t have a taker, he then asked to see my pictures on my phone but I flatly told him no.

Finally, the idiots got quiet and didn’t say anymore to me or anyone else. At last, some peace and quiet! I got off at my stop and walked away feeling ten feet tall.

Submitted by Jaimee

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The Movement

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flashing, public masturbation

M is for … Masturbation?

I got on the 8:20 Manhattan-bound M train Monday morning at the 4th Ave., 9th Street stop and was sitting down, reading the paper like I normally do. A few stops later, a man came on the train, and stood to the left of me next to the doors. I didn’t pay close attention until I saw something in my periphery that was moving. I turned to the left and saw the man’s penis sticking out while he rubbed it. He stared at me the entire time. I jumped up and shouted — WHAT THE F–K ARE YOU DOING? The doors opened and he got out at the Dekalb stop, but stared at me through the doors as the train left the station.

I wish I had my camera out so I could take a picture and show it to the police. I’ve filed reports to the MTA and the police, but who knows if anything will be done. I really want this asshole caught.

Submitted by Kim

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Verbal

Pretty Pussy? You’ve got to be kidding me, man.


Harassment starts at home, it seems. I left my apartment early this afternoon, and walked only a few steps before a large man with a cell and a cigar started leering. He gave me the elevator eyes and said, “Niiiiiiiice legs. Why don’t you walk that pretty pussy over here?”
I walked on, but he continued, “Oh, come on and don’t be RUDE baby, you know I just think you sexy!”

Now, I’ve been putting up with street harassment for about 6 years. It runs the gamut from the mundane catcalls and the counterman’s hand lingering just a bit too long and stroking just a bit too knowingly when returning my change, to the truly terrifying instances of being grabbed (five times in all, once by the hair), and the nauseating displays of public masturbation (I’ve caught SIX men masturbating to me on the train, so much for working nights). When I tell people about these instances they usually assume I am being too sensitive, that I’m exaggerating, or, worst of all, that I must be wearing or doing something to solicit this sort of behavior. I’d read about hollaback before but was always just a bit to embarrassed or scared to say or do anything myself.

But today, when I turned around and saw that big fat man with his big fat grin staring back at me, something just clicked (notable, my camera). I whipped it out and snapped his picture. He yelled, “What you takin’ my picture for? Do you know me?” To which I responded, “What you talkin’ ’bout my pussy for? Do you know me?”

As he turned tail in shame I hollered to him, “Check out hollabacknyc.blogspot.com, see your picture online!”

As I walked the 7 minutes from the train station to my front door last night, I counted seven men who said something inappropriate to me, me in my modest kindergarten teacher’s attire (I didn’t count the ones who just leered or gestured) — that’s one a minute. They’re both perverse and pervasive, and must be stopped. I am not exaggerating and I’m not being too sensitive, and NOW I’m on a mission to collect the proof. Here he is, my number one, only a few thousand to go.

Submitted by Hannah

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groping

Wish I Could Go Back

When I was sixteen, I was extremely shy and definitely not nearly as loud as I should’ve been when needed be. After a day of Chinatowning, my friend Vanessa and I were heading home on the subway. She walked ahead of me further down the stairs and I took my sweet time. I remember because I was wearing boots and couldn’t jog down as fast as her. I looked up and I saw this guy smiling at me. I didn’t think anything of it so I smiled back and looked away, because the more he smiled the more it creeped me out. He stopped walking and I went past him, thinking absolutely nothing of it because for the most part he seemed like just a plain ol’ friendly guy. I also had very little self esteem at the time and it hadn’t even crossed my mind for a second that this guy could be “checking me out”.

Well anyway, we made it inside the subway car and I sat down next to her. A moment later, that same guy sat down on the seats next to me. They were facing toward my seat, as my own were against the car wall, facing the opposite side. He said “hi”, and I didn’t answer because I was a little too freaked out that he still had that same smile. Then he edged slightly away from his seat and started to rub my leg. Vanessa didn’t see it, and I didn’t know what to do at all. I just stared at his hand, dumbfounded, wide eyes, scared as hell. Then he started rubbing his knee up and down my leg. I was wearing a skirt, a long black one, and he made it ride up to my knee. As soon as we reached our stop Vanessa and I got up and I bolted for the door. I turned around and he was following us, so I grabbed her hand and made a dash for it. She ran with me without asking questions thinking I was joking around, and we ran up the stairs until we made it back out onto the street and I couldn’t see him anymore.

Thinking about this now, I wish I could just go back there and scream “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? GET THE FUCK OFF HER, SHE DOESN’T WANT YOU TOUCHING HER YOU SICK, SICK FUCK!”. Sometimes when I’m walking in the subway, I wish I could see that guy (this was only two years ago) and just punch him in the face. I hate him so much.

Submitted by Kitty

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Uncategorized

War Zone

HollaBackNYC screened “War Zone” a while back with Lantern Books. Missed it? Here’s a five minute clip.

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Verbal

Deacachimba!

Saturday’s field investigations led to the shocking conclusions:

 

1.Patriarchy is still the foundation of our society
2.It sucks to be a woman in said society
To make a short story long, it began last week. My friend Glow, the child-prodigy photographer extraordinaire and I, decided to meet up and get all artsy together. The plan was to for me to slap on some draggish makeup, and flit around downtown Managua playing good photographer/crappy model. FUN. The first location (namely, in front of a white wall in my house) was a bit limited. “Egads”, said I “A park would present a world of backdropsical possibilities!” So off we trot to the Parque Japon├ęs. We got off to a fairly good start, and Glow got one or two really incredible shots until-

 


these pieces of shit started harrassing us. I believe they began to whistle, make kiss-y noises, and holler something about the effect of Glow’s dress, or my top, or whatthefuckever. Being a dedicated, if mediocre model, I tried to avoid breaking concentration; hence my simple, but elegant response: I gave them the finger. 

Bad idea.

The shouting became incessant. They started approaching us. We started to get very, very nervous. Now, I’m not so much a delicate flower as a holy terror in a mosh pit. But you can’t overlook the fact we’re still two 5′ 0″ teenagers with a backpack full of clothes, and they’re grown-ass male fuckbags with a whole pack of grown-ass fuckbags behind them. This is the point where it’s generally advisable to run.

Not today. Glow stood up and began screaming, along the lines of “WHY ARE YOU SEXUALLY HARRASSING ME?! I COULD BE YOUR DAUGHTER! WHY ARE YOU SEXUALLY HARRASSING ME?! WHY?! WE’RE JUST TRYING TO TAKE PICTURES! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!” Not to be outdone, I felt the need to add “WHY WON’T YOU LEAVE US ALONE?! THIS IS A PUBLIC PLACE! WE’RE MINORS! STOP SEXUALLY HARRASSING US!”

Well, that sort of did the trick. They turned and ran to the other basketball court, though not fast enough to escape Glow’s lens. But best of all, not twenty seconds afterwards, two security guards came running up to us. After explaining the situation (much to their credit, they didn’t scoff or dismiss verbal assault as a waste of time, like some policemen I know), they told us to be careful, and that they would be sitting nearby now, even if they couldn’t kick them out of the park (why not, I still don’t know). But by then we were too weirded out and scared to stay any longer. We thanked them and left.

But since male privilege does not pertain exclusively to gang-y fuckbags in parks, as a few blocks away, we were verbally assaulted by another pair of cockmonglers.


This time I walked close enough for them to hear me and asked why felt the need to say those things to us. Being cockmonglers of the weaselly breed, their Cockweasel-in-Chief came up with some smirky story of mistaking me for their niece.

Riiight.

So, that’s the sad story of two girls who had the audacity of being young, female, and pedestrians, but more importantly, young female pedestrians with NO MALE CHAPERONE! The horror! They were asking for it!

Hmmm. At least we got some great pics out of it. Props to Glow, whose deviantart boasts some of the more succesful shots from the first two locations, and to the two security guards at the park: authority figures who deserve that responsibility. And as Glow said, “I bet those fucks have never been questioned by a girl in drag queen lashes before.”

Submitted by Christiane in Nicaragua

 

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Uncategorized

Harassment at Penn State

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