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“Can I join your itty bitty titty committee?”
Submitted by Jackie
I heard about Holla Back today, and thought it was an awesome idea. Like most women in NYC, I get my fair share of harassment on the street. However, I did not expect that, just hours after finding out about Holla Back, I would have an opportunity to stand up to a perv! I was walking to the train after work when some guy gives me the jerk off sign as he walks by me. I moved away from him, and he took offense that I was “too good” for him. Apparently he does not realize that everyone is too good to be subjected to that kind of treatment. One obstacle to standing up to these guys can be that the whole encounter is often over very quickly. By the time it fully registers, the guy is gone and you’re left feeling gross and powerless. But not this time. I stopped, pulled out my phone and started fumbling to turn on my camera. He stopped and waited to see what I was doing. I don’t know what he thought. I can’t imagine he believed that I wanted to get his number, but who knows with these guys! It was taking me forever to get my camera working, and he turned around to walk off just as I got my camera turned on. I followed him and yelled at him. He turned around, and SNAP, I took his picture. His response, “Bitch, I don’t care what you do!” But his voice betrayed him. It was obvious that he did care, and that he didn’t like it. The only down side to the story is that my adrenaline was so high that I didn’t remember to hit save, so I don’t have the photo. But the photo doesn’t matter. What matters is that I stood up to that guy, and I’m going to keep on doing it! Pervs, look out, this woman is done with your shit, and I’m not going to take it anymore!
Submitted by Kathryn
I was on my way home from work in a skirt suit (occupational hazard), when Mr. Cool leans forward towards me, points at me, and slowly drags his fingers across his throat in a I’m-going-to-slice-your-neck-open kind of fashion. Stunned, I looked around and checked to make sure I didn’t just walk onto the set of a horror movie. No such luck.
This man was following a woman downtown, saying she should go home with him so they could “do it all night long, yeah baby oooh.” He was faced away from me so I said “excuse me” and as he turned around I said “stop harassing women” and snapped this picture. As I walked away, he said, “That isn’t harassment. This is harassment.” I was faced away but two people walking in my direction gasped loudly, so I can only guess what he did. It felt great!
Submitted by Megan
At HollabackNYC, we’ve always had an affection for creating social change using unexpected means. (Who knew a cell phone camera could have such a dramatic effect on street harassment?)
Now, there’s a movement on the horizon to bring folks into the political fold through a little known political office called County Committee. There are 5000 of these seats across Brooklyn, and half of them are empty. To run, all you have to do is be a registered, voting Democrat living in Brooklyn over the age of 18. Oh, and you have to get about 20 -25 signatures from your neighbors.
Two rad, ambitious, change-loving, hip professionals named Matt Cowherd and Rachel Lauter started an organization called New Kings Democrats to help folks like you get elected and to bring the office of County Committee back from the grave.
To run, contact NewKingsDemocrats@gmail.com and tell them HollabackNYC sent you. If you are timid about the whole petitioning bit, email us and I’ll hold your hand as we go door to door in hopes of a better world.
“On May 19th, Orlando police say three to four men drove up beside Beaubrun and two of her friends at a red light near the intersection of John Young Parkway and Princeton. The men were asking for their telephone numbers, but the women refused. After being rejected, one of the men fired a shot into the car.
Her friends were uninjured, but Beaubrun was shot in the back and rushed to the Orlando Regional Medical Center in critical condition, where she remained until she died Tuesday.”
For more information, click here.
It is currently 94 degrees in New York City. Like every other woman in this city, I was wearing a sun dress. As the train pulled up to the platform, I walked towards it and felt a hand on my ass. I turned and a guy apologized for “bumping in to me.”
I yelled that he hadn’t bumped in to me, he had groped me. He turned and walked away so yelled after him “did you think that you could grab someone’s ass and nobody would care?” A few guys started looking at him and and me, so I pointed and continued to yell that he had groped me. We got on to different subway cars and the train pulled away.
Three stops later I realized that I didn’t feel like going out after all so I switched trains and headed home. Even though I yelled back, I still feel awful and ashamed. I don’t ever want to wear this dress again. I keep telling myself that it wasn’t my fault for dressing provocatively but I still feel like it was. I wish I had thought to take his picture, as I can see his face perfectly in my mind.
Submitted by Debra
Central Park, right after the wonderful NYC Mini 10k race with thousands of women accomplishing that personal goal, and what happens after this empowering run…we have THIS loser purposely bumping into woman after woman and then trying to rub his midsection (dick) on them!!! Time after time my husband and I watched this bastard seek out a target, walk right over bounce, and then proceed to needle in for the rub up!! After making himself totally obvious with his carrying on, my husband and I walked over to him confronted him and threatened to “break his face” My husband aimed his blackberry and snapped these 2 photos – then we proceeded to chase him out the Park. We got all in his face and yelled at him and he just stood there looking stupid. Women, these guys are losers, DO NOT be afraid to call them out, and get all rowdy, no need to be demur because that is exactly what they’re looking for – for you to keep quiet while they act out. I’ve seen this on the train and women always have that “did he just….” look, open your mouths, kick these guys in the groin, call the cops and let them sort out the shit when these dicks are on the ground howling in pain.
I was deployed to Qatar a year ago, and the base I was working at has many soldiers coming in and out of Iraq and Afghanistan for four-day rest-and-relaxation passes. I was hanging out with my friend at the bar one night when it was brought to my attention that a soldier standing just a few feet away was photographing me and taking video of me on his camera!! I walked up to him, grabbed the camera from his hand, and ignored his cries of dismay as I deleted every photo and video of myself I could find. I wish now I’d gone as far wiping the whole memory card, just to teach him a lesson. I gave the camera back to him and chased him off, and I didn’t see him again for the rest of his pass.
Submitted by Davi
I got on a Brooklyn bound L at Union Square; it wasn’t very crowded (for rush hour) but I was still lucky to find a seat. Or so I thought.
I sat between this asshole and another guy. As soon as I sat down, though, this guy (who is obviously pretty large) squeezed closer to me rather than making room. He had plenty of room to move over, but instead sat smugly in place. Just you’re average dick, I thought, until he started rubbing his arm against my ribs, and resting his hand between our thighs. Giving him the benefit of the doubt I asked politely, “Could you move over just a bit?”
“No,” he said, at which point I realized what his other hand was doing, “I like letting bitches know that they shouldn’t sit where their big asses don’t fit. At that a woman across from us said, “You’re taking up more room than her and him [the guy next to me] combined!” I don’t know if she or anyone else noticed what was going on in his pants. I snapped a blurry pic (I was upset) as I got off at the next shop, and congratulated him on making the site. But I didn’t feel the winner in the situation. Sometimes even such a great outlet as Holla Back just isn’t enough.
Submitted by Hannah