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I was walking with two male friends and we happened to be walking very close together. I’m female-bodied but present ambiguously. A car drove by and slowed down, calling us “A bunch of faggots,” and then sped away really quickly.
This is on my walk to work every day. And every day, there are three or more men that sit on this street corner. Not just on one side, but both. Sometimes one stands in the middle. So when you walk through, you are surrounded. And every time I walked down the street, the harassment would start about half a block away. One would see me and nudge his friends. All would turn to look until I got closer. One of them would call out, “Morning, sugar.” Relatively harmless comments grow less so as I walk through. “Looks like you on the catwalk this morning.” “Sexy, girl.”
I have since switched to walk a longer route to work every day to avoid this specific group of men. I hate that I have altered a daily component of my life because of them, and I usually get harassed more innocuously anyway on my half-hour walk to work.
“sexy” as I walked past in the street
Oh just walking to work and a man a block away starts staring at me….and rubbing his nipples. Shocked and disgusted, I continue walking toward this loathsome creature, and as I pass him (yes, he’s still vigorously rubbing his nipples), I say, “It looks like your nipples itch. You know they have a cream for that, right?” I NEED A SHOWER.
My roommate and I were walking down the street back to our apartment from our local Kwik Trip in t-shirts and athletic shorts around 11:45 pm. We were minding our own business, clearly, simply walking and talk about our plans for the rest of the evening. As we crossed and intersection a car turned, slowed down, and a young male (presumably college age) yelled “SLUTS!” at us and him and his friend proceeded to laugh at that. As I turned around to respond– to be honest, i didn’t even know what I’d say– they were already gone. My roommate and I didn’t speak for a few moments, embarrassed and hurt by what had happened. When we got home, we turned from embarrassment, to anger, to sadness. My friend showed me this website after I posted the story to my facebook page. This is what I posted:
I am deeply distressed and frustrated with the fact that as a 22 year old female college student I cannot even walk down the street with my roommate in a t-shirt and athletic shorts without being called “SLUTS!” by passing cars. Besides pointing out the fact that there is a very blatant double standard being promoted with that comment, one that is still incredibly evident in our society today, I have a few more things to say.
FOR REAL?!?!? I know this type of shit happens everywhere and to everyone, but it is upsetting regardless. To the guys who yelled that at us tonight, how did it make you feel? Did it make you feel better about yourself or more empowered? Do you REALLY think its OKAY to yell at two girls walking down the sidewalk from YOUR CAR without giving us a chance to respond?! What if someone said that to your sister? Your female friends? Your mother? Or other women in your life that you love and respect dearly?
You don’t even know us, dude. Not a damn thing about us. And I’ll admit, it hurt my damn feelings and I don’t even know YOU. But these things happen. And I’ll recover, while you’ll remain an insensitive and disrespectful individual.
So while you can laugh about this with all your friends for a mere second and probably forget about the whole incident, I will not. And I’ll use it as motivation to keep spreading my truth, keep studying what I’m studying, and keep on my path of treating others well, even strangers walking down the street. It is NOT OKAY to yell degrading comments to women. EVER. It’s not funny, it’s hurtful and silencing. Peace and Love, yo.
I think this website is absolutely amazing. Thanks for being a place where I feel I can be heard. Infinite love
When I started reading through the stories on this site, my first reaction was to sympathize and think, ‘wow, this is terrible. I’m lucky to have never experienced harassment like this myself.’ I’m a bit of a shut-in and, because of this, I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life until recently. I figured I just haven’t been in many situations where harassment could take place.
But the more I thought about it–the more /this site/ got me thinking about it–the more I realized I was wrong. Even with my life as a shut-in, I /have/ experienced harassment.
When I was in sixth grade, I used to go walking in the woods with a friend of mine. On one such occasion, we wandered into a previously-unexplored part of the forest and found the remains of an old treehouse. Someone had left a pair of extremely feminine lace panties there–my friend and I were too innocent to think of /why/ they were probably there. We merely found it funny in sort of a surreal way.
Then these three boys showed up. They began taunting us, shouting at us, insulting everything from our looks to our intelligence. One of the boys picked up the underwear; he mockingly asked if it was mine, and threw it at me. When we tried to leave, they followed us or blocked our path. My friend and I were frightened, angry, and humiliated. I remember I was shaking. I was almost crying.
I had been carrying a large, solid tree branch as a walking stick, so in a moment of rage and desperation, I swung it at one of the boys. At almost twenty years old, I now understand that assaulting someone who’s harassing you isn’t exactly well-advised, but at the time I was younger and upset. I felt so helpless; no matter what we did, the boys refused to leave us alone. Luckily the boys backed off. As they backpedaled, one of the boys called me a ‘psycho bitch’, and then they were gone. Still shaking, My friend and I ran home.
For years afterwards, I categorized the incident as just some other kids being dicks, and dismissed it. In retrospect I realize that if my friend and I had been /boys/, we almost certainly would have been left alone. These boys harassed us because we were two /girls/ alone in the woods, and much of what they said involved sexual slurs.
It’s not exactly a ‘street harassment’ per se, but it strikes me because those boys were roughly two years younger. By fourth grade they already had the idea that it was okay to demand our attention, harass us, block our path. It’s a little scary how young stuff like this starts. My friend and I never went back to that part of the woods again.
My sister and I were visiting our cousin and her boyfriend in D.C., and we were taking the metro back home around 10pm one evening. We are all in our mid- to late 20s. We had a fairly long ride so we were sitting and chatting, and the car was relatively quiet, with about 15 other people in the car with us. At some point I notice a fellow around our age, by himself, trying to get our attention. I can’t really understand what he’s saying but it’s clear that he’s a) drunk and b) only interested in us girls. My usual tactic in this type of situation is to just ignore – in most cases, people like this give up quickly. So I try to continue our conversation as normally as possible. However, the man gets more agitated and walks up to us, getting pushy and asking why we won’t talk to him. I respond by saying in a lighthearted but firm manner that he’s being annoying, and we’re just trying to have a conversation amongst ourselves. All the while, there is a middle-aged couple sitting in front of me with their heads down – literally (thanks a lot, guys!). The man becomes more aggressive, calling us bitches, remarking how white girls are all stuck up, telling us he wants to make a porno video with us, telling my cousin’s boyfriend that he “must be gay” and then takes out his smartphone and starts videotaping, shoving it in our faces and daring us to say something back to him. I am freaking outside because I am incredibly angry, not to mention going into Mama Bear mode because my younger sister and cousin are there and I am feeling overwhelmingly protective of them. I didn’t want to do anything stupid, but I hated the feeling that I was being pushed around. However, I’m in a city I’m not familiar with – don’t even know where the emergency stop button is, or if there is security on the train or the station. I just kept trying to convey strength through body language, without directly interacting him in the event that he was armed or otherwise dangerous.
I actually don’t even remember why he eventually left us alone, I think at one point he moved away and we moved further down the car. After the guy left, one of the other passengers came up to us and said (smiling) “Like, what did you guys do to him?” At the time he said it, I just wanted to shake the whole thing off, but afterwards I was so angry at that random guy – where was he when it was actually happening? What made him think that WE had done something to start it all? It was his attitude that upset me more than anything. I understand that the other passengers may have also been scared, but there were more of us than him. And I imagine most of the other people were DC natives and knew what security options there are on the metro. That’s why I chose to share this story – harassment is awful, but it’s just as awful (or maybe worse) when other people witness it and do absolutely nothing.
I’m seventeen years old, and these are the four times I’ve been harassed.
I was about eleven years old at the time, pre-puberty and I was wearing a top, a skirt and carrying a stuffed animal.
My grandmother and me were on our way to our cottage with a car and we stopped at a small diner to eat. After we were done, we walked back to the parking lot. There was small patio outside the diner with tables and chairs so you could eat there if you wanted to. There was three guys, all around their 30-40s drinking beer. We had to walk past them to get to our car. I had a bad feeling about them, but told myself they were probably harmless, squeezed my plushie tighter to my chest and walked after my grandmother past them. I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when one of the guys whistles after me and others snigger. I turn back to stare at them in disbelief and my grandmother glares at them. I feel like crying, I’m so humiliated. When we’re at our car, only thing my grandmother says about is “He was drunk.” I don’t reply.
I was around 14 years old and I was waiting for mom to come pick me up after school. I’m wearing a loose hoodie with jeans and standing in a empty school yard.
The car is driving past me, but then suddenly slows down and a guy in the front seat roll his window down. He’s about eighteen years old. A lot older than I was, anyway. There’s another guy shotgunning, about the same age.
“Hey baby, need a ride?” Guy driving yells at me.
I ignore him completely and they drive away.
I’m walking home for school, through a forest. I’m wearing t-shirt and jeans and there’s no one around.
There’s small group of guys sitting in a blanket and drinking beer. As I walk past them, one says to me suggestively: “Hey, sit down with us for a sec.”
I ignore him and I hear them laugh and say crude comments about me.
I was fifteen years old and walking my dog. I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.
A car slows down and a guy yells “Hey!” at me. I recognize him, I’ve seen him around school but never talked. There’s two other guys and girl in a car with them. When I don’t reply, they laugh and drive away.
When I go to school next day, I’m half-excepting there being mean rumors about me and people calling me slut. Luckily nothing (aside from my normal bullying) happens.
To set the tone of this conflict, please know that I am a women with short hair. I was wearing a simple t-shirt and lounge style shorts.
I was walking late at night to do some laundry downtown in Reed City. As I was nearing the laundromat I noticed a group of men gathered outside the backdoor of a bar, at quite a distance as to obscure their features, who presumably were smoking cigarettes. I was a little nervous at this point. I became hyper aware of statistics of violence against women and felt that it might be reasonable to stop slouching. Perhaps if I look confident then I won’t get attacked, I thought.
The closer that I got to them the more nervous I felt. I began to tread quickly and quietly, while hoping for the best. There was no point in turning back as I was halfway there. Besides, what if I had it all wrong? Or what if I ignited an animal desire within them to pursue me?
Just after I crossed Old 131 & The Pere Marquette Trail, one of the men yelled “Hey, girl or guy?”. I instinctively ignored him and kept walking. This was not a battle worth engaging in despite my deep feelings about rigid gender roles and appearance. As they disappeared behind a set of buildings lining the block I heard him say, “Yep, guy.”
Thankfully nothing else happened. This may not seem like a big deal to some but I was scared that I was going to get assaulted for appearing differently than I should. It happens occasionally, especially to people who appear at all queer. I called a family member to give me a ride home after frantically texting a few people online for support. Those moments waiting for the arrival of my family member were frightening. I was seriously afraid for my safety, as the laundromat was deserted and the men were at a bar down the street.
All in all, I do feel like a dunce for walking so late at night alone. I likely won’t do such a thing again all though I already don’t. I just assumed that it would be safer since it was a small town and I needed to squeeze laundry in real quick before the next day.
I also feel conflicted about my appearance. I usually dress in a way that I find comfortable and admittedly don’t strive to appear like a woman “should”. The incident made me feel insecure about my appearance and whether I should change the way I present myself. I decided not to change anything, yet doubt still lingers about whether I should dress more feminine.
I feel that this incident has also changed the way that I feel about Reed City. I don’t feel like it would be safe to walk late at night around downtown anymore and I feel less welcome in the community even during the day. Rude people don’t disappear in the daylight.
I was interning at the Broward County Public Defender’s Office this summer and every day I would sit outside and wait for my aunt to pick me up (I’m 16, but I don’t have a car). Anyway, it was hot and sunny, so I took off my jacket, but I was wearing a conservative blouse and knee-length business skirt, so I figured it didn’t matter. I had some M&M’s in my hand and I was eating them one by one when a guy got really close to my face and said “Hey, baby, wanna give me some of your M&M’s?” The only thing I could say was “What?” I literally could not believe what just happened. The guy repeated himself, just to make sure I understood, and walked away. I was too scared to do anything, especially because we were in front of a courthouse and I thought he might be some sort of criminal. After that, I never took off my jacket again, no matter how hot it was.