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Travelling on a public coach in the daytime down the highway, I look out the window at a car driving in the next lane. The male driver (who can only see my head) catches my eye and makes a masturbatory gesture with his hand until we drive out of sight. I feel, as usual, totally helpless. That day on my way to the bus, I had already been cussed out on the sidewalk as a ‘bitch’ by another male stranger, while walking past him (in broad daylight, fully dressed). Last time I was out of town and crossing a street (again in broad daylight, fully dressed), two men in a car driving by threw a liquid out of their window and all over me, then watched my reaction in their car mirrors. I just want to be able to travel without experiencing verbal, gestural or physical assaults on my confidence and my person. I would characterise these as sexual in nature because it is males on their own insulting a young woman on her own.
Had a car load of men leer and yell “Wewwwww!” at me whilst I waited at the crossing on Gympie Rd, Chermside (Brisbane, Australia at 10:30am on Saturday, 12 July 2013) They then got caught in traffic so I was able to snap this photo of their vehicle.
Contained four typical bogan-type louts.
This creeper followed my cousin home, then back to the beach where he sat in front of us and was in the water in front us and masturbated. One mom told him to leave us alone but he again attempted to follow us home.
I cut through a mini park six feet away from a main street, at 7:30 in the morning, to catch a bus, towing a suitcase. This apparently is enough provocation for a man on a bench nearby, who looks the worse for wear, to issue a steady stream of abuse until I am out of sight, most of which I miss but which clearly includes the word ‘bitch’. It is broad daylight, in a public place, and I am dressed from head to foot. Even if it was night, an alley, and a miniskirt, I am not a bitch.
Many instances of cat calling and inappropriate comments yelled on the street or out of cars at women walking. Very vulgar and uncomfortable…
While trying to enjoy lunch with my partner, a man at the table behind ours kept staring at me (he was in a large group of men). I slid my chair to one side, hoping to deter further staring, to no avail. I asked my partner to move to another table with me so we could continue our conversation in peace, but I still feel uncomfortable and anxious about it.
As HOLLA::Revolution inches closer and closer (July 25th!!), the mothership is busy with final preparations! We’re SO EXCITED because the conference is going to be totally RAD and tickets are selling out fast! There are still a few left, so if you haven’t picked yours up yet, make sure to get ‘em now! And if you can’t make it, join us for our awesome after-party on Saturday!
HOLLA AROUND THE WORLD…
Hollaback! Alberta was featured in the Artery‘s (a popular live music venue’s) 1 year anniversary party! The Artery gave Hollaback! a space to raise awareness about the organization and the problem of street harassment. Look at their awesome pics!
Hollaback! Boston has been up to a lot! This past week they chalked the Freedom Trail (which included daring Bostonians chalking in front of the Massachusetts State House!), and continued their “Introducing” Series, interviewing Boston-based writer and fashion maven, Georgina!
T-MINUS 13 DAYS UNTIL HOLLA::Revolution!!!
HOLLA and out!
While waiting for the bus, a man drove by me twice hollering out the window at me, and twice I flipped him off. The third time he pulled over in front of my stop and began to get out of the car to help me get in for “a ride”. Apparently none of my vulgar swearing got the message across. It took a swing of my fishing knife and a smile saying “I have absolutely no problem cutting you cock off here and now.” For him to leave me alone.
More times than I can count I’ve been walking in Seattle and been yelled at from cars by men. Things like “how much are you?” and “I’d ride that all day.” My style varies and I’ve been yelled at like this in a dress with tights, jeans and a tshirt, and short skirts. It doesn’t matter what I dress like or the fact that I’m a full-figured woman; men just assume that I am a commodity to be bought. But I’m not.