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I was walking down the street when I heard some guys yelling from a truck. I was used to that, so I didn’t turn around. Then, I felt something hit my butt — they’d thrown a little pack of ice at it. They cheered when they hit their target. For some reason, this made me feel really humiliated and foolish.
Growing up in Los Angeles, from the time I was in my early teens I could not walk down the block with out getting cat calls by men . I would get cat calls from old men, young men , teenage boys etc. As an attractive female I felt trapped that no matter where I went i would get verbally harrased and in some ocassions stalked. I did not always live in the greatest of neighborhoods in Los Angeles, my family was low income and my transportation was public transportation. While standing at a bus stop or even a stop light, men would pull up their car next to me and try to pick me up as though I was a prostitute. I could not even begin to tell you how many times I was cat called and hollard at while I was a teenager going on to my 20 s. Its unbelievable what being an attractive female is like living in a big city. The attention that these men displayed is not the kind of attention that I wished for. I could appreciate a compliment here and there , but to hear them everyday on a regular basis really starts to affect ones mental state and at the end of a long day a woman doesn’t feel beautiful, she feels like a piece of meat .
This was several years ago now, but my freshman year of college I would commute by walking down my street and catching a public transport bus to campus. On three separate occasions while walking home I was catcalled at. The first time was from two guys in a car going the same direction as I was (so they didn’t even see what I looked like from the front), and the passenger stuck his head out of the window as they passed, trying to get a better look at me, and stretched his arm towards me as if asking, “What, you’re not even giving us a response?” The second time I was walking on the other side of the street and I got yelled at from the passenger of a car coming from the opposite direction in which I was walking, and that made me even more tense since I saw them more clearly than the other guys. The third time was from a school bus with middle school-aged boys who yelled, “Nice ass.” In all three cases I didn’t outwardly react at all because I was afraid of provoking them further, but I felt extremely uncomfortable, angry, and confused-on none of the days had I been wearing anything even remotely revealing, tight, or “provocative,” though even if I had, that would not have been any excuse. The middle schoolers made me particularly angry and sad because it showed how these harmful behaviors and views of women are being pushed even at young ages.
The saddest part was when I complained about the catcalling on Facebook, and a female friend of mine said, “You should be flattered ’cause it means you’re attractive!” This is by no means the kind of attention I want, nor the type of people I want to be attracted to me, and telling someone to be flattered by harassment is absolutely the wrong response to harmful ideas and actions concerning women’s sexuality.
A young man in a small burgundy car yelled something about his penis and “having the papers to prove it”, and then, “Suck my cock.” I wish I could have called the police, but they sped away and I did not get the license number. This happens to me every few months, and it makes me feel unsafe in my small community.
I am pretty typical in build, appearance, dress, etc. There is no reason to target me. None. If this happens to me fairly frequently, it makes me wonder how often it happens to more vulnerable members of my community, or those who appear “different”.
I don’t have much of a story. I just wanted to document this. It gives me a bit of power in a situation that otherwise leaves me feeling powerless.
Was walking downtown on a Sunday afternoon when I noticed someone close behind me and getting closer. I quickened my pace and moved to the side of the sidewalk when he groped my ass. He apologized and I told him to fuck off. 20 minutes later I saw him again, I took his picture and yelled at him, he told me not to take his picture and I told him not to grope women. He looked terrified. I reported it to the police and they did not even want to look at the picture.
I went for a walk yesterday afternoon in my residential neighborhood to enjoy the beautiful fall day. A car came up behind me, honking the horn obnoxiously. As it passed me, I saw 2 or 3 men inside, and one of them shouted something unintelligible through the open window. Then they sped off…like cowards! I didn’t have my phone on me, or I would have snapped a picture of their license plate. Once and for all, street harassment is not about trying to pay a compliment or just being nice. It’s about making it very clear that the harasser’s time and space are far more important than the victim’s. And that’s bull.
At the time i was 15-16 i was alone going to a bus stop and this guy followed me there and asked me where the streetcar is and if i can show him, i said there is none here… Then he walks away and comes back and asks me to bring him to the subway i said no and he’s just staring at my boobs then he left and i called my friend crying and he came running back and i screamed “leave me the fuck alone or I’ll kill u!!” And he just came so close to me in the bus shelter staring at my boobs and my crotch and i told him to leave and he just stood there, slowly walking away. I was screaming cry cause i was alone then these couple came to the bus stop and i felt relived and he asked me whats wrong, i told him , and he said the same guy did the same thing to his gf across the street and said if he came back he would kick his ass so i felt safe. The next morning i woke up to go pick up my phone from a store and the same dude was infront of my condo and tried to hug me i dodged it and ran as fast as i could to a school and called the cops, when i was talking to the police they got a message that they arrested him half way through the interview. I also went downtown to hand out resumes and i needed to push a button to get into this one store, and the guy let me in and he was the only one working, he was like 60 and called me beautiful and was rubbing my leg asking if i was a virgin and he tried raping me.. I was 15!! I ran as fast as i could out of the store hoping i didnt need him to open the door for me to leave, i ran across to the grass and started crying and called the police. Other then that I’ve had about enough of this shit feeling unsafe going anywhere. I’ve had men on subways stalk me i have seen men just stare at me or down my shirt, I’ve also seen a guy masturbate on the subway and laughed about it thinking it was hilarious everyone saw and there were kids there… Like wtf?
This dirty old man would not stop looking at me and grinning all the way home. 30 minutes later, there he was still just looking and grinning. I finally put my book down, fed up and glared at him letting him know silently his stares were unwelcome. He looked sheepishly away. Well, that won’t work for everyone but this creep got the message. Took a quick picture but only part of him came out.
dude on the street says i am a fucking bitch
you a fucking bitch!
you ain’t too good for me
keep on walk’n bitch!
so i keep on walking
because it was daylight
and my dog was beside me
and i had faith, even if small,
in witness testimony
if dude decided to kill this bitch
because we all know what happens
when bitches refuse
we wake up in this city
with a fight right outside our door
we get dressed
knowing the eye-fuck disrobes the thickest layers
and the world
of all its pretense to justice
we brush our teeth and ready our faces
not for the catcall or the hand on the arse
but for ourselves
when we leave the house
we know the real issue isn’t us
but the men who feel entitled to our time, our bodies, our lives
and threaten to make our world contract
like a blast rewound
but a blast rewound is a blast in motion
lets break the rotation of this storm
when the streets hold you hostage
turn around and bounce a bomb into
the eye of that storm
explode this cyclone
when the red fire of his words
hits the hillside of your flesh
fling that grenade
take in all the oxygen and
starve that fucker of hate
we are not on the supply side
of male demand
we are soldiers in lipstick
with our own game to kill
in this average city
where breathable sidewalks
This happened just now. On my way home, a man (or boy? he seemed younger than me!) passed me on his bike and – slapped my butt! I was stunned and speechless for a second, then I couldn’t think of anything better than asking him if he’s nuts… then I started running and almost caught up with him as he was going really slow, and shouted “Better drive more quickly or I catch up on you and smash your face in!” And that little *** started pedalling for his life. Then I shouted an insult at him that I am not very proud of and I could suddenly see his breath vaporize as he took the next turn in a hurry. I am so mad, and that is why I’m almost glad I didn’t catch him. I wouldn’t have been any better if I had really tried and hit him.