demonstration, Verbal

SR’s story: I wish I could just shrug it off, but I can’t.

Me: crossing Woodward with my boyfriend. Young guy in the passenger seat of car stopped at the Woodward red light: yells “SEXY” etc etc at me while I wait for the Congress light to change. This is about thirty, maybe forty full seconds of yelling. He’s far enough away that I can’t tell what he’s saying, so I ignore him until some other college girls walk towards the intersection and he yells at them too about their clothing (skirts). I turn and yell at him to fuck off, notice the asshole is *holding a camcorder* and presumably had been filming my ass the entire time. Light changes, he laughs with the driver as they zoom off. Wish I had a photo or a license plate number but I don’t, wish I could just shrug it off and forget about it but I can’t. All I can do is sit around thinking of things I wish I had said and I hate that feeling.

one comment 
demonstration, Verbal

Kate’s story: Increased anxiety is a side effect of street harassment

Last Friday after work I decided to go for a run, it was a cool evening and it was starting to rain, which quickly turned to sleet and then light snow. I was less than a 1/4 mile into my run when I heard yelling — my ipod was between songs, otherwise I might have missed the specifics of it. There was a guy (I am assuming high school age) leaning out the window of a car on the other side of the street who screamed out, “Nice ass………WHORE!!!!!!!!!” I have to be honest, it wasn’t just the words that upset me, it was also how he said it — there was anger in his tone, and it felt threatening.

I tried to shake it off as just a bunch of immature kids with poor judgment and kept running.

Maybe a mile later I was on Beacon St in Cambridge when the same car drove by me again with this guy again hanging out the window screaming at me — I had my ipod cranked up so I don’t know what he said but the tone was, again, unmistakably angry & threatening. I was freaked out that this was the 2nd time they’d driven by me, and I was getting into less residential neighborhoods where there were fewer people on the streets — I had visions of the next time they drove past me, what if they pulled over? got out of the car? pulled me into the car?? I decided to listen to my gut, cut my run short, and turn around & head back for more populated streets & home.

Unfortunately I was not wearing my glasses & did not get the license plate #. I am getting over this but had an anxiety dream about it Friday night that involved me being cornered by a large man and calling for help that never came. I remain disturbed by the fact that somewhere, somehow, the boys/men in that car learned that harassing & threatening a woman in this way is ok.

no comments 
homophobic, Verbal

Sandra’s story: Watch out for the stinger!

There are so many incidents I don’t even know where to start, or when it even really all started.

In high school my sophomore year it got around that I was bisexual after some nasty girl found out that I was dating another girl at school. Walking home with her one day we were confronted by a group of guys from our school. They followed us for blocks saying obscene things and trying to get us to “let them show us what it’s like to be with real men since we obviously had never been with any man with a big enough cock.” and asking us how we like being ate out since, y’know, we pee out of there. i got so fed up with it and turned around and asked them if they liked it when their girlfriends gave them head because “y’know, you piss out of that.” After that they just kind of left us alone.

That was the first real time I stood up for myself when it was happening. I was so freaked out.

A few years later (this was right after I’d turned 18 and moved to another town) I was walking to my boyfriend’s work down the road about 12 blocks from where we lived and this group of guys were following me. At this point I was so used to stuff like this that i’d taken to carrying something called a “Stinger” (it’s basically an extendable metal rod with a ball on the tip and a large rubber grip for a handle) with me whenever I walked alone. They just kept leering at me and whistling, making loud comments about my “curves” and my “sway” and talking loudly about how’d they’d “tap that”. At one point they were following too close for comfort and several times it felt like they were trying to sniff my hair or grab my ass. Fed up with it I finally turned around and asked them what they wanted, as I did so I sneakily took my “stinger” out of it’s belt holder (which was hidden under my shirt). When they went to answer one said something like “We just want your attention sweetheart.” some other guy said “You’re so juicy, we just can’t resist.” I flicked the rod out so that it extended out to my side and I glared at them and said “Well, I don’t want yours.” They kind of freaked out and backed away from me. They never bothered me again.

It feels good to be able to do the same thing to them that they do to us women daily: Have some sort of power over them by scaring the crap out of them. It’s a nice turn of the tables, to make them feel like we do every time they do that kind of stuff to us, but at the same time I still think it’s sad that I’ve had to resort to carrying something so dangerous (and I think technically even illegal to own in my state) in order to make sure I can protect myself because stuff like this happens all of the time.

one comment 
The Movement, Verbal

Emmaline’s story: Fifteen and pissed!

First off, may I say that I am 15 years old, and I have been harassed on the street since I was 12 years old! My most memorable experiences:
I was 12 and walking back from a Neighbourhood festival with a friend of mine and this beat up pickup truck drove by; some 40-something year old guy with a cowboy hat honked, and leaned out the window to shout some obscene remark to us and took off.
Two summers ago (age 14), I had finished up a play at the local high school, and a friend and I were walking to a Culvers a few blocks over. It was about 10:30pm and we had one block of a dark, deserted street. This Honda Pilot drove down the street, and we saw the driver look out his window, slow down, and deliberately whistle at us. He then drove to the end of the street, made a U-turn, and drive even more slowly past us AGAIN, and whistled once more. Luckily the director of the play pulled up next to us and asked if we wanted a ride, so we didn’t have to risk him passing us again.
This past summer (age 15), I was at a metro bus transfer point and was waiting for my mother to pick me up, and some guy started to walk towards me. The alarms went off in my head, so I grabbed my bag and walked to the Walgreens across the street. Lo and behold – he followed! I tried to trip him up by weaving randomly through several aisles, but he still followed. I finally ducked into the bathroom for about 10 minutes and waited till he left. He never said anything, but that was the creepiest part!
About two months ago (still 15) I was taking a bus out to my theater (I’m in a youth Shakespeare group) with a friend to watch a rehearsal because we had school off, and this guy was on the bus. At first he overheard us talking about the theater and asked some polite questions, but then he started asking our names and where we went to school, and it felt too personal. I shortly afterwards became homeschooled, and take a bus out to the school each day for a chemistry class. I saw him again frequently, and he would always smile and stare at me, and stand or sit in a way so as to always have a clear view. One time, in a nearly empty bus, he sat down right in front of me, then turned his entire torso around to face me, and smiled at me while staring at my chest. It wasn’t a glance, either – this stare was for several minutes! He never said anything, and didn’t touch, but his very presence and the way he was blatantly staring just made me feel violated. I finally told him “Okay, stop.” And got up to get off the bus (thankfully my stop wasn’t to far after he got on. I haven’t seen him since, but the experience always sticks with me as my creepiest.
A very recent one (this past Friday), I was on State Street with my dad and sister to see a movie as part of the Wisconsin Film Festival. It was about 9 at night, and we had stopped in a little market to buy my sister something to eat, and I stood near the door looking at magazines. As I was flipping through one, I heard something along the lines of “come here, sexy!”, I look up and there are some college age guys passing the door and staring at me. When they saw that I heard them, another leers at me and calls out “HHEEEEYYOOO” and they leave. It was unnerving – even if they couldn’t see my dad – that this would happen when I was with family, and even more that my dad didn’t hear it.

Other less creepy ones, but still unnerving nonetheless was when actors of my theater gather to perform scenes on Capital Square (during the Farmer’s Market) in order to advertise the Theater, there have been several instances when an elderly man would walk up and give me money – to “support the arts” they say – while leering at my chest. Some old sweaty man was staring a friend and my chests while trying to find out our schools and where we live. We brushed him off.
Also, once, when I was still in school, I was walking to my health class, and there were two classmates of mine and some random other friend of theres sitting on the floor in the hallway. I was wearing a dress that day, and the random guy leaned forward, then looked at my face and asked my name. I realized he had looked up my skirt (sucks for him – I wear shorts under all dresses or skirts).
One time I was at the mall and I went to a store in the food court to buy some water. I didn’t have the right amount of money with the tax added in (about 50 cents short), so I was trying to say “nevermind” and go somewhere else, when the guy insisted to chip in for me and wished me “a nice day, gorgeous” as I left. Slightly flattering if by someone my age who I knew, but out-of-line in the circumstance.
Last one: When I was still in public school, I was walking back to class from the bathroom, and there was this kid (freshman) standing in the hall with a friend of his. As I passed, he said “hey” and I responded accordingly. He then proceeded to plant himself in my path, forcing me to stop, and asked me how I was. I shortly replied that I was fine, annoyed by then. Not getting the message, he then decided to inform me that “I like how you mooove” in a ridiculous voice, making it clear he had been watching my ass as I had was walking by him. I gave him a dirty look and went around him, and that was the end of it.

I don’t get where men have decided that now, today, in the 21st Century, women are to be treated as pieces of meat solely there for the male viewing pleasure, and that we don’t care when we are catcalled, whistled, followed, “complimented” and in any other way violated. It’s awful that it’s become so ingrained in society that when I confided in a friend, she told me to “flip him off, laugh and let it be. It happens”. It happens BECAUSE we let it be! Unfortunately none of my incidents had been easy to report – or reportable at all, in the eyes of the cops – or had happened to quickly for me to actually berate, so they’ve gone without punishment.

one comment 
Verbal

Kate’s story: Ruined run

Last Friday after work I decided to go for a run, it was a cool evening and it was starting to rain, which quickly turned to sleet and then light snow. I was less than a 1/4 mile into my run when I heard yelling — my ipod was between songs, otherwise I might have missed the specifics of it. There was a guy (I am assuming high school age) leaning out the window of a car on the other side of the street who screamed out, “Nice ass………WHORE!!!!!!!!!” I have to be honest, it wasn’t just the words that upset me, it was also how he said it — there was anger in his tone, and it felt threatening.

I tried to shake it off as just a bunch of immature kids with poor judgment and kept running.

Maybe a mile later I was on Beacon St in Cambridge when the same car drove by me again with this guy again hanging out the window screaming at me — I had my ipod cranked up so I don’t know what he said but the tone was, again, unmistakably angry & threatening. I was freaked out that this was the 2nd time they’d driven by me, and I was getting into less residential neighborhoods where there were fewer people on the streets — I had visions of the next time they drove past me, what if they pulled over? got out of the car? pulled me into the car?? I decided to listen to my gut, cut my run short, and turn around & head back for more populated streets & home.

Unfortunately I was not wearing my glasses & did not get the license plate #. I am getting over this but had an anxiety dream about it Friday night that involved me being cornered by a large man and calling for help that never came. I remain disturbed by the fact that somewhere, somehow, the boys/men in that car learned that harassing & threatening a woman in this way is somehow ok.

no comments 
Verbal

Silvia crespo gonzales’ story: Street harassment in Peru

Salgo de mi casa, estoy apurada, no tengo temores, mi único afán es llegar al paradero sana, para poder coger un micro que me lleve directo a la universidad sin ningún inconveniente.
Al caminar por la av. Tinoco para dirigirme al paradero de la av. Panamericana, siento temor, temor, en este lugar siempre camino rápido, antes lo hacía escuchando música para salir de la realidad y no dejar que los otros me atormenten. Voy con unos zapatos altos que compre con mi mama en Miraflores un día anterior, voy con un vestido azul que me llega hasta las rodillas, ¿muy provocativa?, no lo creo.
Ahora estoy con los oídos abiertos al mundo y comienzan. Paso por una obra en construcción y comienzan, quisiera que en ese momento la tierra me tragara, quisiera estar vestida como las musulmanas para que ninguna parte de mi cuerpo quede al descubierto, malditos solo quiero que se callen y me dejen de molestar. Sigo caminando y mas trabajadores de construcción vienen en bandos, en grupos, muchos hombres pasaran a mi alrededor, mis odios siguen abiertos, quiero taparlos con cera, no quiero escuchar, me atormentan su comentarios tan groseros, quiero llorar, estoy sola, sola ante esa gran cantidad de hombres que me ven con lascivia. Me siento reducida, quiero recuperarme pero continúan uno tras otro, y ahí vienen más, diviso a más hombres, los miro fijamente pero esto no parece perturbarlos, más bien les gusta. Miro al suelo para que no se den cuenta de mi presencia, solo quiero llegar al paradero, solo quiero llegar al paradero sana y salva en mi moral, subir al micro, que nadie me moleste, tener un viaje tranquilo.
Por esta situación de acoso pasan muchas mujeres en el Perú y el mundo. Yo paso por esto cada vez que quiero ir al paradero a tomar un carro, cuando quiero caminar tranquila por las calles, hay hombres que ven a la mujer como un pedazo de carne apetecible y quieren apoderarse de ella. Comienzan a emitir palabras con contenidos sexuales como lo que me dijeron a mi esta semana “quiero hacértelo”, “que rica estas”. En una ocasión trataron de tocarme, pero gracias a mi reacción lo impedí. Desde los 12 años cuando iba al colegio en un micro y un hombre me quiso meter la mano, he sufrido acoso por hombres en la calle, acoso verbales y en algunas ocasiones se han querido sobrepasar.
Pero que se puede hacer contra ellos, si solo pronuncian esas palabras groseras y se van, ¿detenerlos a increparles?, yo cada vez que salgo siento miedo, miedo ante estas palabras miedo ante este acoso, por eso los odio, por eso tengo temor de caminar sola.
Acaso piensan que nos alagan con estas insinuaciones tan vulgares, porque no pueden dejar que una camine libremente por las calles sin que nadie te mire o moleste, esto daña, y daño en el fondo. Con esto han conseguido que me vuelva un ser listo para la lucha, agresiva ante estas situaciones, ahora no se puede confiar en nadie, ya basta.
Esto lo paso día a día, cuando me dirijo a cualquier lugar, yo no lo busco porque no voy con ropas provocativas, no me exhibo, pero ya basta de este acoso, estoy harta que los cobradores, choferes, taxistas, albañiles, trabajadores, obreros, molesten a las chicas. Porque las palabras te atormentan, de eso no hay duda, ya basta de este abuso verbal que solo hace que quieras desaparecer, ya basta.
La próxima vez que me suceda algo así mi reacción puede ser fatal, pero ellos se los buscaron con sus insinuaciones indecentes día a día.

http://escritosrosas.blogspot.com/

no comments 
demonstration, homophobic, The Movement, Verbal

Monika’s story: I will stand up

This happened the day before spring break, before I found this site, and I feel terrible for not saying something.

I’m new at my school, so I don’t get a lot of attention, which is a good thing. I was sitting next to this girl, looking out the window, minding my own business, when I overhear a guy in the seat behind me say, “Hey girl, you wanna get with this?” The girl sitting next to me said, “No, thanks,” and turned back around. For the rest of the ride, he kept asking her if she wanted to have sex with him, how big his penis was, and at one point he even said, “What, you a lesbo or something?” She kept quietly saying, “No,” but he wouldn’t leave her alone. I wanted so badly to turn to her and say, “You don’t have to put up with this, there’s an empty seat up front, you can move,” but I was just too afraid. He kept harassing her the whole ride, even as I was getting off.

I really wish I had said something, but now I promise myself that the next time I see another woman being harassed, I will stand up and I will speak.

no comments 
Verbal

Katie’s story: Just trying to wait for the bus!

So, I get to Union Station about an hour and a half before my bus is supposed to arrive to take me home. It’s about 5am, and I’m checkin’ Facebook on my phone. This guy in his 50′s (I’m guessing) comes to where I’m sitting and asks what time it is. I reply. He then takes that as an invitation to sit down next to me and ask me for money. I tell him I don’t have any. He then points to his swollen eye lid and how someone beat him up. I ask him if I should call 911. He starts swearin’ at me and telling me that it was a cop who punched him, so 911 isn’t going to help. He asks me to go get him a burger from McDonald’s, but only if he goes with. I’m terrified and getting really inconsistent with what I should be saying (the lack of sleep didn’t help either). I eventually pack up my stuff and tell him I have to go. I proceed to another part of Union Station that is well lit with lots of people and few cops. He finds me about 45 minutes later. He tells me he’s forgiven me and asks if I have a dollar. I reply no. He calls me a bitch under his breath and walks away to go ask more people. He eventually left Union Station about 10 minutes after that.

no comments 
Assault, Verbal

Skyla’s story: Bad end to a wine tasting

My friend and I were walking back to my house from downtown Saint Petersburg, FL, last night after enjoying a glass of wine at A Taste For Wine. She and I are both attractive women. As we are walking on Central Avenue, a drunk man in his 20s walks up behind us and begins verbally harassing us. He was yelling obscenities at us and like an instant reflex, I turn around and spit in his face. He says, “I can’t believe you just spat in my face! Nobody spits in my face,” and pushes me. Three women walk over to my friend and I and begin taking up for me since they had witnessed what happened. This scares the man and he walks across the street still screaming obscenities and threatening to harm me. I get my cell phone out of my pocket and dial 9-1-1. A minute later the police are on the scene. One of the police officers gives me the option of pressing charges or make the man go home. I tell the officer that I do not wish to press charges. I am a firm believer in karma and know that it will pay this guy a visit unlike any other. I begin taking mixed martial arts this week so that the next time something like that happens, I will be prepared to defend myself.

no comments 
Verbal

Maggie’s Story: Creep in the liqueur store

This happened to me the other day and it probably wasn’t that big a deal but it made me feel really uncomfortable. I had gone to the LCBO (liqueur store) with my dad.

My dad went to the other end of the store to the wine section. I was looking at some of the other liqueur bottles (I like to check out the bottle designs) when I yawned. A man who must have been around 60ish (I’m 21) came over to me and said “someone’s really tired.” but he said it in a more than just friendly way, if that makes sense. He also gave me a smile that was not creepy per se but more than friendly. It looked like he was going to say something else but at that moment my dad came over to ask me something and he just kept walking.

It could have been just friendliness but something about the way he said it reminded me of other times I’ve had men say disturbing things to me, and all those times started out as just friendly remarks too. But the fact that I was there with my dad just made it feel much worse.

I am not what would be described as hot by any means. I am a rather large girl and wear boyish clothes (baggy pants, t-shirts, etc) and yet I still get creepers talking to me. It just goes to show that no woman is unattractive enough to not get harassed.

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