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If you’re a woman in NYC, without fail this happens to you every day. When I lived on the UWS there was this spot right by my apartment door where men congregated and they would catcall me every day. (It’s a basement level barber shop on W 83rd St. between Columbus and Amsterdam). There were days I didn’t want to leave. There were times I felt ashamed, or embarrassed. And there have been many many times I have felt unsafe. I have also been followed by men. What people around the country don’t realize when reacting to your PSA, is that in NYC everyone HAS to walk to get around. There is no way for women to avoid this. And as your video shows it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. I have been catcalled when I was dressed conservatively, on bad hair days with no make up, and in winter wearing a giant puffy coat. Across the board, every woman I know in NYC deals with this problem, no matter their background or appearance.
I’m technically male but am more comfortable by dressing to look androginous and/or more female. I wasn’t dressed as a girl exactly, but while walking to my flat a guy who was perhaps in his mid 60’s, who was just standing there doing nothing, grabbed me and felt my private parts through my trousers quite thoroughly. As I looked at him in horror, he nodded, grinned and said “just checking.” I ran and called the Police. They came down and interviewed me. They then asked me what I was “expecting them to do about it.” I was very upset but I managed to ask them to press charges. They refused and just left. They weren’t rude to me,but he was still out there later. I just feel so vulnerable and powerless as if the Police won’t help me, what can I do? I’m still trying to work out who I am and how I feel and this has really set me back and hurt me. Why did he feel to need to check me like that?
Night time in the Mission, I’m leaving dinner to meet up with a friend at a bar 8 blocks north. It was later in the evening, most businesses were closed, and the amount of people walking on the streets were fading with each passing block. I was near my destination, and after spending the entire day in Mission, I felt comfortable enough walking to my next destination alone. In San Francisco. I thought, I’m from Detroit and feel safe back home, how sketch can SF be?
It got to the point to where I needed up put my hood up. The only people left roaming the streets were those severely intoxicated to the point of not being able to hold themselves up, groups of men, and the occasional cooky stung out homeless character. Having my hood up and hands in my pockets you think would indicate I am not walking around to have a chat. This man walks up to me and starts walking the same pace as me. Comments on the weather and continues to try to make small talk. I do what Detroiter’s do: look him in the eye, give him a civil head nod, and continue on my way. Apparently this isn’t enough of an indication to this man that I am NOT trying to have a chat.
He asks me if I’m going home, and tells me how beautiful I am (I’m wearing a freaking hood, you can barely see my face). I pick up my pace, so does he. I slow down, so does he. We are the only ones on the street and there are barely any cars driving by.
Finally I look at him and put my hands in front of me to suggest “halt” and say look, I’m not trying to talk. He makes a couple more comments about my hair and my legs and continues to follow me (mind you, I am wearing jeans, sneaks and a baggy coat).
Suddenly he is gone, as if to duck behind an alley. I put my hood down to ensure my peripheral vision is clear. Then luckily see a cab across the street dropping someone off. In a bit of a panic I run across the street to catch the cab, and went back to where I was staying. There went my comfort zone, my plans with a friend I hadn’t seen in over 2 years, and my ability to feel safe in this beautiful city I was visiting.
Short and simple. Walking down the street on a hot summer day, wearing a tank top because its 95 freaking degrees, not to get cat called at. This huge built man walks by, looks straight in my eyes and says “nice titties”. I couldn’t believe my ears. I forever hate that word now.
So recently i moved to Padova Italy to work there for a while. And since i got here i noticed that the amount of catcalling and streetharrasment is much higher than it was in my home town, which is also a big town. It made me feel very unsafe. When i go out of the house i get catcalled almost every 15minutes. And last week a man followed me for at least 10minutes. Iv never been in a situation like this where is so overwelming and so constant. The friends iv made here are experiencing the same, and even worst than me. Today I saw a short documentary about catcalling and street harrasment and it was very inspiring. I usually ignore my harasser’s but talking back seems like an empowering thing to do naturally when a man grabbed my arm on the street not half n hour later all I did was run away and try not to make eyecontact. Baby steps.
I work in the Financial District of Manhattan, a male dominated environment to say the least. As a female professional in this area, I am dressed in business attire daily, and I am frequently the recipient of verbal commentary and gestures on my walks to and from work, as well as on my walks to and from picking up lunch. Today on my walk back to the office from lunch, a man walking with a co-worker turned around as I walked by and yelled “Hey, how are you gorgeous?” and of course, I kept my head down and kept walking. To my utter disbelief, I then heard his friend say to him, “Come on man, have you see that video with the girl getting cat-called? You’re not helping our case.”
As feelings of satisfaction and purpose and joy overwhelmed me, I felt I had to share here to make it known that you are TRULY making an impact. Even if it remains this small–and it won’t–it was remarkable to hear this man calling his friend out for the unsolicited “compliment,” and it’s all because of this movement. THANK YOU for what you are doing, and thank you for spreading the message in a big way.
As an avid runner, I wanted to go for a longer run today as it was nice out. I put on a race shirt thats a little to big for me and my leggings (most comfy to run in) I then began my run. I usually run in residential areas, but today I ran into town. I was heading into the town just running as usual when the first car honked. I disregarded it. 10 minutes later, another honk. To top it off I was outside starbucks on the sidewalk with other people. It was a slowish area due to a yellow light when a car drove slowly next to me with two men in their late teens/early twenties. Note: i am 15. I had my headphones in so I couldnt hear what they said, but one of them leaned out the window with a big grin and started saying something. I just ran away. I was scared. I’m 15 years old. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to run outside of a starbucks at 3:00 in the afternoon.
It’s not just one event, being harassed happens to me as often as I wash my hair. For every day in Neukölln I walk the streets freely and assault free, there is another where young men, old men, guys in groups, fathers with their children walking beside them, comment my appearance, insult me, tell me to have sex with them or grab my butt. In 99% of the cases I don’t dare doing anything because the people who witness the assault and my response would attack me and support the offender! Of course I hate being harassed, but I fear for my safety if I do anything.
I am not asking for it.
I had a lovely walk this morning as I was on my way to an interview at the most adorable little tea place. My interview went perfectly and I am 99.9 percent sure that I nailed the job as a cute little tea enthusiast. Can I enjoy that feeling right now? No. Would you like to know why? As I’m walking back home and the weather is still fantastic, my serenity is interrupted by a male in a pick up truck yelling, referring to me as “sexy”. I shake my head and ignore him, but can’t help but overhear him inviting me into his truck and muttering the things he would do to me.
I make it a good 20 yards before another male, a construction worker this time, starts yelling “hey baby” and making kissing noises. More construction workers join in, hollering, staring at me, some even walking onto the sidewalk to get a better view of me.
The remaining blocks that I had until I was home were the most uncomfortable, anxiety-inducing minutes of my entire life. I haven’t never felt more uncomfortable, I have never felt more unsafe. I am a strong female that does not put up with any man’s nonsense, but for those few minutes, I felt like a scared little girl.
My outfit was conservative; professionally. Nothing about it was attention seeking or revealing. Attached is a (blurry) picture that I sent my boyfriend right before I went to my interview. I was all excited and giddy.
Harassing women is not okay. It is not funny. It is not acceptable. But what is even worse, is their intentions.
I didn’t have a phone, otherwise I would have called the police, at least just to tell them where I was and to keep me company, but instead, all I could do was rush home, keys in between my knuckles, constantly looking over my shoulder. When I finally got home, I realized I had tears in my eyes and my lips were quivering.
The point of me writing this post is to 1.) Tell all you women out there to be safe.
and 2.) Tell all you men out there to treat a woman with respect.
The world is too beautiful a place to be soiled by such degrading scum.
I was not asking for it.
I went on a trip to London with my college and we travelled on the underground. when we all got on I had to stand next to two men sat down on seats as the carriage was really busy. one of them patted the space between them saying “you can sit here if you like, babe” and, scared, I looked away pretending I hadn’t heard. they then kept grinning at me, trying to catch my eye the whole journey. when me and the others on the college trip were getting off one of the men kept trying to trip me up. I said and did nothing, mainly because all of my classmates who had seen it either acted like it was nothing or were finding it funny. I don’t know why, but I was terrified. I felt like crying afterwards