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I was just trying to throw out my trash. it was a bit late around 9pm. we live on a main street and there are always people going by. While walking to the trash I hear someone call “hey, hey girl.” I turn around and this guy on a bike is riding up my driveway. I know I looked terrified and begun to start walking towards the door. He keeps coming at me saying ” let me talk to you come here.” I’m like “nah” and get up on the porch thats when my boyfriend come outside. The dude looks shocked and finally starts to back up to the street again. my boyfriend shouts” hey homie WTF do you want.” the guy just says ” just trying to sell some tools.” and heads off. Cant even be on your own property these days
Submitted by Monique
Have you ever wished there was some sort of garbage disposal hotline to call when confronted with ugly street harassers? We’ll put that on our holiday wish list. Something else on our holiday wish list?? Some green from YOU, about $5 worth.
In a follow up to her “New Phone Apps Aim to Combat Harassment” article published in the NYT on Monday, reporter and now HollaHERO Karen Zraick publishes her own personal hollaback in today’s City Room blog.
As if we couldn’t have guessed, within hours, there are 47 comments all containing one, two, three, and sometimes more, horrifying stories of women’s own personal experiences with street harassment. And it isn’t over yet. NOW THAT IS ONE HELLUVA HOLLABACK!
“It’s infuriating to see this described as a ‘quality of life issue’, writes one woman. “This isn’t a ‘quality of life’ issue, okay? It’s not my neighbors having a loud party, or a dog barking next door!”
At Hollaback, we couldn’t have said it better.
Now this is one holla the city will NOT be able to ignore. Read Karen’s story and the accompanying comments here.
If I had a dollar for every NYT reporter who has come forward with her own hollaback…well, I wouldn’t have very much money. But if I had $5 from every woman who read this story, including you, now I might have something to talk about…raise us $5?
In NYC it seems like I can’t step outside of my house without being verbally attacked, but the scariest attack happened to me when I was going to the Jacobi hospital on a Saturday. It was around 10. I came out from the hospital and I’m walking through the back of the hospital building trying to get to the bus stop. All of a sudden I feel a something following me when I look to my side there’s a van right next to me, the guy has his window down and he started screaming “Honey, I was checking you out your so fine come over here mamacita”. I was terrified shitless all I could do was grab my phone and call my mom. He probably thought I was gonna call the cops, but what were the cops gonna do? When the guy saw me take that action he just left really quickly. Through all of this all I could think was “OMG I could have been kidnapped”.
Submitted by Shani
A little donation goes a long away—we developed the new iPhone app using $5 and $10 donations from friends and lovers. What can we develop next? A LOT—new international Hollaback sites, to be exact! Wanna help?
One July morning, while on the L train from Brooklyn to work at 1st Ave and 14th I was a victim of what can only be deemed digital voyeurism. I noticed the man sitting opposite me on the train was staring intently at his Blackberry, probably watching a music video or something of the sort. What was strange was that he held it upright, in line with his eyes and not in his lap like most folks usually do. When I moved, he moved and at times he would glance at me. The lady next to him was looking at me too, as were the other two ladies standing next to him. My self-conscious self wondered if I had spilled my breakfast on my shirt, so I looked down, started rearranging my skirt and noticed that the culprit seemed mildly perturbed by this. I was convinced that he was videotaping me on his phone. I glared at him, but he kept on videotaping. I kept my head down, the way celebrities do when they’re avoiding paparazzi. I moved to another side of the car. When I got off at my stop, the two ladies who were next to him, stopped me and asked me if I knew he was taping me. I asked why they hadn’t alerted me earlier and chose to be complicit viewers of this injustice. I was outraged and felt completely defiled. I wish there was a way to report this. The sad thing is that two weeks later, the same thing happened again, on the L train. This time I was quick to act. The culprit was pissed when I changed seats and got off at the next stop.
Submitted by J
You’re a fighter—or you wouldn’t be here. Help us fight the war on street harassment, at the frontlines. We’re using brains, not brawn. Send us weapons. The green kind.
It’s a shame that in this day and age, taking the bus can be a bit of a scary experience. I was on my way from work and had to wait for a while at a connecting stop. A man who I noticed was on the bus earlier had walked over to my stop and sat at the bench with me. He kept his distance but I just tend to stare face forward with my mp3 player on and my phone in my pocket. Eventually he says hello. I say hello back but continue to look forward. Minutes pass and he tells me his name. Noticing he’s waiting for a response I just tell him my name is ‘Marie’. It’s not real, it was just the first random name that came to mind. It got even more uncomfortable when he would periodically ask where’s the computer lab, do I go to school here, and so on. It got worse when another bus showed up but he decided to wait for MY bus to get here. He said, “I WAS going to get on this bus, but do you mind if I get on the same bus as you?” I didn’t answer so he took it upon himself to do so. I should have just walked into one of the university buildings ages ago, but I just wanted to go home. Eventually my bus gets here and I sit near the front so I could be by the driver and he sits towards the back. He later comes to a seat just behind me and asks if I had a place for him to stay during the night and gave him a firmly toned NO. He went back to his seat but it didn’t stop me from getting off my stop and looking around to make sure he didn’t follow me. The walk home was so scary because the apartment complex I’m at seems to have no interest in getting the street lamps fixed and the entire walk was me rushed in a zig zag pattern with my hand on the number 9 on my phone. Later when my boyfriend came back, we went out to get some pepper spray and so far, I will wait for him to give me a ride, even if I have to wait for hours.
Reading the rest of these entries makes me feel more empowered, but there needs to be more! I want to do my part for this website and tell my friends about it. I also think it would be a wonderful idea to have this for all universities and public transportation systems. Thanks.
Submitted by Menia
While walking to my car this morning a man who was driving slowed down his vehicle just to make “smooching” sounds to me. I gave him a disgusted look and got in my car. I sat in my car for a moment, and then realized that the man had driven back around and was sitting in his car, stopping traffic to stare at me. I was very scared because I was trapped between two cars, and him, and had no way of driving away. He eventually left, but it was not the best way to start my day.
Submitted by Desiree
This is a constant occurrence on the A train at the Rockaway Boulevard Train Station in Ozone Park Queens (At least for me). I enter the station and head for the Manhattan-bound A train side of the platform. My entrance is the one at the front of the train and I usually walk to the middle area of the platform and wait for the train. This morning, reminiscent of many others, there was a man already waiting for the train on the platform close to the top of the stairs.
I passed him on my way to my waiting area. When I got to where I usually wait, he was right behind me, casually reading his paper. I felt awkward and walked down to the area about ¾ of the way to the end of the platform. When I turned around to check, the man had followed me down and was half a car-length away from me. The train started pulling into the station, so I walked down the platform some more to make sure there was a car and half between me and him.
I got on thinking he would be in the other car that pulled up right in front of him, but then saw him getting into the same car, one door away from me. So I sat in the seat facing the back of the train, with my back toward the door he was standing at. Two stops later, he moves to the door that my seat is facing and is casually reading the paper and stealing glances at me.
At this point, I’m disgusted because he’s not the first guy that’s followed me down the platform, but was definitely the first to follow me all the way down, into the car I was in, and into my face. That’s when I took the first picture of the creep. He spent the whole ride (from Rockaway Boulevard to Fulton Street) creeping me out with his looks. I was sure he was waiting for me to get up and follow me off the train. He stopped reading his newspaper after Jay Street and was just staring at me the rest of the way.
I was pretending to doze off as I waited for the train to let a bit more of the crowd off at Fulton Street. At Fulton Street, I had had it with the creep staring me down. He had no intention to get off while the crowd was unloading so I pulled out my camera and snapped a picture of him with the flash on. The crowd around me looked confused but didn’t question my extremely disgruntled face as I took the picture of him. The shot shows the guilt on his face and surprise that I would actually take his picture. He disappeared into the crowd (or ran off right before the doors closed) right after my picture.
If there’s anything that gets me upset, it’s disrespectful creeps on the train. Don’t follow me, ESPECIALLY at 8:30AM when I’m half asleep. Had I been awake, I would have caused a stir on the train. Though I think my quiet decision to shame him with a flash photo in front of a crowd worked too. He wasn’t there to follow me off the train. I don’t appreciate creeps pretending to casually stand around after they follow me.
Even if this post doesn’t cause the creep to get arrested, at least I feel better that I made him nervous by taking his picture. It would be really nice to not be followed by douchebags.
Submitted by Maria
One day while I was running errands I came across a group of men who were hanging out in front of a barber shop. All I heard was “drug store, blondie” and they followed me for five blocks harassing and stalking me until I lead them the wrong way. After that experience I don’t go often near that block.
Submitted by Samantha
I was walking home from [law] school last night around 10:20 p.m. My walk is only about 15 minutes, from Tribeca to the Financial District, and I normally walk very rapidly.
I’m always aware of my surroundings, especially at night, and am careful to remain in well-lit areas where other people are as well. As I was walking down Broadway, I noticed 2 boys in front of me. One was on a razr-type scooter, the other one (orange polo) was just walking.
Eventually I passed them, and as I did, the one of the scooter, who had been going around in a circle said, “Hey gorgeous.” I ignored him and walked faster. After about 30 seconds I could hear both of them behind me, and they were beginning to keep pace with me. They followed me all the way down Broadway, to Fulton Street. Along the way, they were muttering things to each other like “Yeah, she does have a nice ass though.” I probably behaved pretty stupidly, but I thought because there were people all around me, that these guys would give up and leave eventually. They seemed younger and weren’t overly intimidating. I pulled my phone out and had 911 ready-dialed in case it escalated too quickly. They continued to follow me down Fulton Street, but eventually the guy on the scooter pulled back. The second guy was still keeping stride, though, and as I neared a cross street, I heard the scooter guy yell, “Now, Man (Max, Mac?)” and the guy in the orange polo said “Now?,” began running past me, and grabbed my ass. He then slowed, stood at the next corner, and watched me pass. I felt so violated and completely degraded. I took a picture of him with my camera phone as I walked by him, because it\’s all I could think to do, but it came out very blurry.
I’m so glad this site exists, so people can share there experiences and realise they’re not the only ones – well done guys!!! I’ve had many unfortunately, but I will just mention a few. My city has no official blog yet.
As a introverted and shy teenager, I was carrying 2 heavy bags of shopping (and looking pretty rough, old jean and sweatshirt) in, A circle of at least 10 drunk guys surrounded me, blocking me and not letting me walk off. They were wearing novelty costumes (a stag night, maybe). I felt so intimidated that a froze. The “ring leader” came forward, and said, “we won’t let you go until you give us all a kiss”. I was still frozen. He started to move his face closer to mine, it was so disgusting. I squeaked, “I have a boyfriend” (I didn’t) and pushed past them. And they were all laughing, I felt so humiliated and sick for the rest of the evening.
Not too long after that, another woman I didn’t know and I were walking down a narrow street with scaffolding in the pouring rain and wolf whistles started from the builders. We both turned around and one went “No, not you, you train wreck” I don’t know which of us the attention was aimed at, but again this made my day just a little worse.
Another time drunk guy in club maneuvered me into a corner and wouldn’t let me go until I gave him my (fake) number.
To top this off, I went abroad to a certain foreign country (religiously conservative and by some standards 3rd world) for study reasons, where street harassment is the norm. In fact sexual responsibility and “sin” falls almost entirely on the women’s side. Women are belittled, some are not allowed out on their own, and stared at constantly even if they are dressed extremely modestly (as I was). Some women particularly of minority ethnic origins, have stones thrown at them (I think since I was taller than most of the men, they didn’t dare with me). Also if a man is staring at you, they won’t stop staring even if you make eye contact – they think they have the right. They would talk to me, even though it is meant to be unacceptable to talk to women they do not know.
Yes, I was aware of this behavior before I went, I am aware it is a different culture and values and I am a guest in their country etc etc but it still made me feel sick and it doesn’t make it right – I talked to many women who lived there and they all hated the harassment too, but they felt powerless about it. I felt under siege. Another sent flowers to my school and tried to negotiate with the school principal to marry me. Urghh. At a tourist festival, all the local men were photographing US, western women, more than we were photographing the festival itself. The one time that was almost funny was when I was visiting a local landmark and a rich looking man started filming us even though he was with his family! Then his wife saw and smacked him hard across the head and a torrent of verbal abuse was aimed at him by the women. Hah! That showed him!
It got more serious though. There was one incident where I felt my life was genuinely threatened, when I was stranded due to circumstances beyond my control. A man I didn’t know (whose unwanted attentions and sexual threats I had rejected) accelerated his taxi at me, almost running me down while I was alone on a dark night and deliberately intimidating me, then drove off in the night. In that moment my brain flashed to the attacks that’s had happened in South Africa, where a gang ran women down with cars to disable and rape them. I was so scared and numb. I stood for 10 minutes in the dark in the pouring rain, waiting to get in through the gate to my house (gatekeeper was in the toilet), all the time thinking he was coming back. The feral (and sometimes rabid) dogs prowling about added a nice atmospheric touch.
After 2 months of this, the effect on me, in addition to my other experiences, was profound. I’m sorry if this sounds cliche but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel tears pricking at my eyes as I typed the previous paragraph. Since I’ve returned home I’m very sensitive to street harassment.
When I go out, I tend to wear hoodies and jeans, and don’t call attention to myself. I walk tall and confident and with purpose, but I don’t feel that way, even though I’m 5’7 and reasonably attractive. I keep my face blank, carry keys or perfume in my pockets (for defence if needs be) and my phone in other. I tend to be hyper-vigilant and I get really angry, mostly inside, at street harassment, particularly by drunks. My body language becomes very defensive even if a man is being respectful and friendly in showing interest in me, I blank them and turn my head away.
Even now in my mid twenties I feel vulnerable going out alone wearing skirts and dresses (although I will with a group of friends, rarely, in house parties or places I feel safe), even though I love girly dresses, especially retro ones. I want to go out and feel beautiful within myself and respected, and you know what, one day I want to meet the right guy, get married and be happy – but if keep acting this way I worry I’ll never get that close to a guy again. Its sad but I think I have had more negative contact from guys in my life than positive.
Things are getting a little better now, I feel happier and more confident than I have in years although the emotional distance is still there. I have travelled alone to many countries, made new friends, skydived, climbed mountains. If you met me in a social situation you would probably never guess any of it – I would come across a pretty, friendly girl, not a wallflower.
But I have to say this – Guys, please be considerate. Try not to be obnoxious assholes who stare and and yell and grope. I’m a nice, funny, person and although I try to be strong, I have a thin skin and these things still hurt me. And it has been these little incidents, the harassment which guys don’t even seem to think about, and which still happen to me occasionally, which make it worse.
Submitted by A.