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I walk every night. I carry my phone with me and listen to a book as I walk. I live in a nice area made up of residential homes, but even so I still am aware of my surroundings. Along the main road sometimes some people lean out their window and stare or or say something rude to me. Some people try to see how close they can get to me without pushing me off the road. But tonight I experienced something that was really odd.
I hear a car coming and I glance back. It’s a police car, the car slows and I think the man Is going to stop and talk to me. As I look back again he slows until he’s about ten feet behind me then sits there. He crawled along at me at me walking pace for about five minuets. He then proceeded to pull up to the stop sign in front of me and stare at me through his rear view. I crossed to the opposite side of the road not wanting to be near him. I stop and look for oncoming traffics to see if it is safe to cross. No one was coming. I cross to another street the whole time aware of his gaze on me.
When I’m just about getting out of his sight he pulls up and continues to follow me. After a few mins he drives down my street and out of view. I understand the police have a duty to watch people who might he showing suspicious conduct. But all I was doing was walking. And if he had a problem he should have spoken to me. If it had been anyone else in a normal car following me I would have called the cops. But what do you do when it’s the cop who’s the problem?
He knew he was making me uncomfortable and yet he continued. I kept checking over my shoulder the whole way home he made me so nervous. I shouldn’t have to feel that way from someone who’s there to protect me. My gut was telling me it was wrong.
Just for context, I’m a trans woman, socially transitioned but very early in medical transition. Although I don’t like the term, I ‘pass’ some of the time, but have tended to get the most harassment/unpleasant comments on public transport, where I’m stuck in close proximity with a group of other people for a while. I’ve had a few incidents this year – several unpleasant comments, and one case where I got followed off the train by someone – but this is the first incident that really shook me.
I was sitting on a central line train to Bank at around 6:50pm, when a group of three men got on next to me – one sat down next to me, while the others stood around him. At first, they were just snickering among themselves, and I didn’t really notice what they were talking about – I’ve felt safest by simply ignoring people in the past, and so generally just listen to a story or music on my headphones. After a while, though, they began to talk more loudly, pointing at me, making ‘jerking off’ motions, and leering at me. I couldn’t get the gist of what they were saying – I think they were speaking in Italian? – but I got a strong impression from their body language and from little I understood that they were making mocking/sexualised remarks against me. I hope that mentioning this is in line with Hollaback’s anti-discrimination policy – I appreciate why this exists, but think this is worth mentioning because it helps explain why I didn’t want to react to what they were doing at this stage, either in terms of confronting them or trying to move down the crowded train – I was scared of confronting them in any case, and, if they hadn’t been discussing me, I’d have felt really embarrassed and self conscious, and perhaps would have caused them to actually start harassing me. I’m a fairly small person, and react quite badly to this kind of physical situation, and so continued to pretend it wasn’t happening.
After this had gone on for a few minutes, they began to talk directly to me (in English), asking me ‘what’s under your skirt’ and telling me to ‘go home with them, and they’d show me a good time’. I didn’t respond or acknowledge them, and had my headphones on to try to block them out, but rather than losing interest, they got a bit more aggressive, asking if I was a ‘perv’ and a ‘ladyguy’ – still trying to proposition me, but in a more demeaning and unpleasant manner. I felt uncomfortable and unsafe at this point, because I was stuck next to them by the rush hour crowd, two of them were standing over me, and none of the other passengers had given any impression that they had heard anything the matter. Finally, the train arrived at Bank, where I got off and they stayed on the train, but as I stood up, one of the two standing guys grabbed and squeezed my crotch area through my skirt. Especially in light of their earlier comments, this made me feel really uncomfortable – I was really worried by the way they kept alternating between sexual harassment and transphobia – but was also really bad for my dysphoria, because I feel really awful about my genitalia and don’t want strangers (or anyone for that matter) grabbing/outing me.
This happened two weeks ago (16/7/14), and I’ve been mulling over whether or not I wanted to do anything about this. On the one hand, it was really upsetting, and I want to do something about it – this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but it’s been the first time someone’s actually tried to physically rather than verbally harass me – but on the other, the strain of transitioning hasn’t really left me with many emotional resources to pursue this. Having to jump through a million hope with gatekeepers etc., going out every day in a body I hate being read by most people as a ‘confused weirdo’ (at best) has really exhausted me, and I don’t want to have to go through all the strain of pushing BTP to do much about it.
Man approached me late at night, invading my personal space and calling me “baby,”
Man leered at me as I walked home and made comments about my breasts.
One walk. Four blocks. Three separate incidences of street harassment by three separate “men.”
1. Smile for me, Baby
2. Hmmm hmmm and other moaning noises
3. Man told me to smile at him so he can give me “something to stick in my mouth”
I left my house in Leon, Nicaragua at 6pm. At 6pm and 5 secs, 2 guys rode by on a bike (same bike, one on the handle bars). 1 of the guys started staring at me moving his tongue around his hand like he was giving oral sex. I firmly & disapprovingly made eye contact as I kept walking. I wish I could have pushed them off their bike, but it probably wouldn’t have been safe or changed anything. How cowardly people are when they can ride away quickly. And how grossly violating. Sad, sad men.
I once asked a boyfriend why guys whistle at girls and he said because they are cowards and don’t have the guts to ask the girl out.
I repeated the same to a guy in a truck once who so sleazily whistled at me. I stepped up onto the stairs of his truck, told him what my guy said and he was humiliated…. LMFAO.
R.E.S.P.E.C.T… find out what it means to me …
While I was out for a run around 4pm, I decided to cross the street at a crosswalk so that I could run on the nearby college campus (less cars, less people, sources for water). When the it was my turn to cross the street, a large SUV started creeping into the path of the crosswalk. I turned to give them a dirty look because I wanted to convey that I thought it was unsafe to be creeping into the crosswalk towards pedestrians. When I turned, they rolled their window down, whistled at me and made a kissy face. I just shook my head and took off running. It made me question my decision to wear a tank top and spandex workout pants. But I am wearing those things for comfort, not to have my body judged. I was just out for a run for my own personal health and I did not want any sort of attention.I hate that is how it made me feel: that I disliked being outside or made me reconsider what clothes I was wearing.
I was walking from my apartment late one morning to get to class. It’s a 10 minute walk from my front door to my desk. That day, I was slumming really hard, I don’t care what I look like for a 10 am algebra class: black gym shorts, grubby t shirt. My apartment is on the corner of the intersection. I was about halfway through the intersection when a car suddenly turned left onto the street I am crossing. The driver stopped his car right in my path.
“Where you goin looking like that, you wanna come with me?”
When confronted, my first instinct is to become combative, and this was no different. I screamed at him: “get your f*cking car out of my way, it’s none of your business where I’m going.”
“Aw baby you ain’t got to be like that,” he said as he pulled away.
Ok, dude, you ain’t got to block my path with your whole entire CAR as I’m walking to class. I don’t CARE how short my shorts are.
And this is but a single instance. Where my neighbors were protective and kind, the men who hang out at the corner store were vocal enough about harassing my roommate and I that we began to take a different route to leave the neighborhood. Getting on my bike was impossible without some dude saying something to me. Young teenagers half my age would hit on me on the street, in this neighborhood, street harassment is par for the course.
I have been dealing with harassment since my teens (now late 20s), mainly by men who think honking, yelling, or directing some sort of comment at me is the way into my pants. However, I experienced the biggest violation on my way to work one day this summer.
I ride my bike through a slightly sketchy part of town in the morning to get to my job- it’s about a 10 minute ride. This particular morning I was riding and out of the corner of my eye I saw a car get close to my bike on the left side- so close that I thought it was going to hit me. As it came by, a teenage boy stuck out his hand and grabbed my butt while I was still riding and while the car was moving toward a stoplight. He even yelled out a “woo!” as it happened, to the delight of the 3 other guys in the car. Dumbfounded, I sped up trying to catch them…the crazy part is, they went through a red light and illegally went around traffic to try to get away from me. A few lights down the road, I gave them a profanity laced scolding and I took their license plate number down. I sure hope the cop that talked to me gave the groper a speech to remember later that night at his parent’s house.