Verbal

Deacachimba!

Saturday’s field investigations led to the shocking conclusions:

 

1.Patriarchy is still the foundation of our society
2.It sucks to be a woman in said society
To make a short story long, it began last week. My friend Glow, the child-prodigy photographer extraordinaire and I, decided to meet up and get all artsy together. The plan was to for me to slap on some draggish makeup, and flit around downtown Managua playing good photographer/crappy model. FUN. The first location (namely, in front of a white wall in my house) was a bit limited. “Egads”, said I “A park would present a world of backdropsical possibilities!” So off we trot to the Parque Japonés. We got off to a fairly good start, and Glow got one or two really incredible shots until-

 


these pieces of shit started harrassing us. I believe they began to whistle, make kiss-y noises, and holler something about the effect of Glow’s dress, or my top, or whatthefuckever. Being a dedicated, if mediocre model, I tried to avoid breaking concentration; hence my simple, but elegant response: I gave them the finger. 

Bad idea.

The shouting became incessant. They started approaching us. We started to get very, very nervous. Now, I’m not so much a delicate flower as a holy terror in a mosh pit. But you can’t overlook the fact we’re still two 5′ 0″ teenagers with a backpack full of clothes, and they’re grown-ass male fuckbags with a whole pack of grown-ass fuckbags behind them. This is the point where it’s generally advisable to run.

Not today. Glow stood up and began screaming, along the lines of “WHY ARE YOU SEXUALLY HARRASSING ME?! I COULD BE YOUR DAUGHTER! WHY ARE YOU SEXUALLY HARRASSING ME?! WHY?! WE’RE JUST TRYING TO TAKE PICTURES! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!” Not to be outdone, I felt the need to add “WHY WON’T YOU LEAVE US ALONE?! THIS IS A PUBLIC PLACE! WE’RE MINORS! STOP SEXUALLY HARRASSING US!”

Well, that sort of did the trick. They turned and ran to the other basketball court, though not fast enough to escape Glow’s lens. But best of all, not twenty seconds afterwards, two security guards came running up to us. After explaining the situation (much to their credit, they didn’t scoff or dismiss verbal assault as a waste of time, like some policemen I know), they told us to be careful, and that they would be sitting nearby now, even if they couldn’t kick them out of the park (why not, I still don’t know). But by then we were too weirded out and scared to stay any longer. We thanked them and left.

But since male privilege does not pertain exclusively to gang-y fuckbags in parks, as a few blocks away, we were verbally assaulted by another pair of cockmonglers.


This time I walked close enough for them to hear me and asked why felt the need to say those things to us. Being cockmonglers of the weaselly breed, their Cockweasel-in-Chief came up with some smirky story of mistaking me for their niece.

Riiight.

So, that’s the sad story of two girls who had the audacity of being young, female, and pedestrians, but more importantly, young female pedestrians with NO MALE CHAPERONE! The horror! They were asking for it!

Hmmm. At least we got some great pics out of it. Props to Glow, whose deviantart boasts some of the more succesful shots from the first two locations, and to the two security guards at the park: authority figures who deserve that responsibility. And as Glow said, “I bet those fucks have never been questioned by a girl in drag queen lashes before.”

Submitted by Christiane in Nicaragua

 

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Verbal

A Ham On The Way to Eat my Nachos

 

At 12:05 p.m. today I was feeling a bit peckish so I headed over to Taco Bell to get some nachos. As I was crossing Manhattan Avenue (at India Street), I heard a man yell “Hey Mami”! Over and over. 

I stopped and took his picture. Unlike most people I photograph, this asshole was hamming it up for the camera. Given that he was operating a commercial vehicle, it begs one to wonder what his employer would think of his conduct. I for one thought he was behaving in a decidedly UNprofessional manner.

Submitted by Miss H from www.newyorkshitty.com

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Verbal

Iain and Dylan Save the Day from Cockweasels!

I was walking through town to get the bus, wearing dungarees, a Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt and a pair of manky Converse, and some baldy 23-year-old dick went “Excuse me.” I was deep in thoughts of Iain Banks and Dylan Moran:

(Iain)

 

(Dylan) 

(at one and the same time! This is quite absorbing, and useful at work to make the day go faster…) and so looked at him vaguely and said “Whuh?” He made the universal gesture for “You have breasts and I am a cockweasel!” and said “You’re a bit lopsided there!” I looked blank, my mind was (considerably) elsewhere. “Ah, yes. Thanks.” I said, and wandered off. He looked disgruntled and his pal laughed like a monkey and poked him, and I and my dirty thoughts won the day. 

To be honest I wish I’d said something scathing, but really, I was distracted.

Submitted by Susanna, Scotland

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Verbal

Serious Question

As I was walking to school the other day, I had a little adventure…

A man accosted me on the street and started a conversation, which went like this:
Man: in his best sultry bedroom voice, “serious question.”
Me: “what?”
Man: “has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Me: “serious question.”
Man: “what?”
Me: “has that ever worked for you?”

I walked off. He proceeded to follow me, calling me a “bitch,” a “cunt” and so forth. He told me he just wanted to tell me how beautiful I am, I must be frigid, I must hate sex and, now, he’s changed his mind and I’m ugly. I continue to ignore him and, finally, I see my chance–I duck into the school bookstore to escape. The last thing I hear as the door closes behind me is, “and yes, it has worked for me! All the time!” I tell the woman who works there, who I’m friendly with, what just happened. She says, “wait, hang on,” and she describes him to me perfectly. She asks, “is that the guy?” I answer, “yes, absolutely.” It turns out that he was in the school bookstore not 10 minutes ago, making passes against her and rubbing up against the books.

Submitted by CJ

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Verbal

Lexington Avenue LOSER!


Lexington Avenue near 86th Street, 7:45 p.m., Thursday night.

Walking towards the subway I see two guys eyeing me, but try to ignore them. Then I hear one of them say, “Hey baby, how you doin’? How you feelin’? COME SEE DADDY!” (impossible to put into words how creepy and disgusting that last part is.) I turn around to confront the guy. “How can you talk that way to someone you’ve never met before? I don’t know you! Why don’t you learn some manners? Why don’t you go home and ask your mother to teach you some manners?” All he can manage during this tirade is to repeat “go away, aw, go away.” Funny, he wanted my attention so badly a moment ago.

I turn and keep walking, but then remember my cell phone, so I go back to look for him. I spot him and his silent friend through a window, inside a small store. I step in and aim my camera at the back of his head. “Hey, loser!” He turns around and I snap his photo. He realizes, too late, what I’m trying to do. “Oh, no” he says, as he tries to step away, but there is no room to go anywhere. He says again, “go away, go away.” I respond, “You’re going on the internet, loser!” and walk out of the store.

Submitted by Nancy

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Assault, NYPD FAIL, Verbal

The Price of Ignoring

http://www.wftv.com/news/11315838/detail.html?subid=22105266&qs=1;bp=t

A woman was walking down the street, and chose to ignore the catcalls some asshole was yelling at her as he drove past. Apparently he thought he was so entitled to her attention that he turned the truck around and ran her over. In other words, “that’s what you get for ignoring me, bitch.” Hard to hollaback from underneath your harasser/assaulter’s vehicle. 

The woman was taken to the hospital and is in serious condition. The driver of the truck is still at large. If he’s ever found, police say they may charge him with attempted murder.

Submitted by Ann

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Verbal

Never too Young

Although I do not live in New York City, I was recently in a gas station near my school in a different city. I was buying a pack of gum before school with my mother and sister. I came in alone quickly. I walked up to the wrong register and the cashier smiled and said other counter. I am normally very friendly and polite so I smiled and said okay.

As i was buying the gum, the man had enough gut to say “You are very pretty. How old are you?” My smile quickly faded. As i turned deep red, I mumbled something and ran out. I was so mad that some random man could just ask me a question like that and assume it’d be okay. I felt very violated. i know that my story isn’t nearly as bad as most of the other’s, but I wanted to share it.

Be careful out there, girls. Even we are at risk. The harassment has already begun.

Submitted by K.

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Verbal

Thanks for Making Me Feel Unsafe in My Own Home, Assclown

It’s bad enough I have to live next to a construction site that wakes me up every morning at 7am, but as an added bonus, one of the workers has managed to make room for me in his (I’m sure very busy) harassment schedule. When I walked out my door this morning, I got to hear all the things that had crossed his mind re: my cunt since the last time I passed. And though I’m sure his boss and macho coworkers would sooner cut off his balls off than have him talk to their daughters that way, on the job all they do is laugh. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it short of sending his picture to HBNYC because the guy knows exactly where I live. Thanks for making me feel unsafe in my own home, Assclown. I hope it shrivels up and falls off.

no comments 
Stalking, Verbal

A Walk Home

Tonight I was walking home with a friend from a wonderful dinner/girls’ night out in D.C. Normally she would have just taken a cab and I would have walked home, since the restaurant was in my neighborhood.

 

Art by Eric Drooker

But she was concerned about my safety (which I thought was silly, because that’s how I am) and we were engrossed in a good conversation. A few blocks from the restaurant, a completely trashed guy came up behind us and started walking along side us/just behind us, speaking loudly. “So, where you ladies been? Was it nice? Where you off to next?” I ignored him and kept walking, while my friend gave very abrupt, short answers.

Eventually, when it appeared he wasn’t going to back off, I stopped with my friend and told the guy to go on. He turned around and muttered something about us “being like that” and moved along. The entire thing was so jarring, a firm reminder of how vulnerable we were on that street. I couldn’t help but feel at once relieved that he hadn’t been more agressive and threatened by the idea that I could have been alone. I couldn’t help but wonder how that might have altered his behavior and I felt like a complete moron for thinking previously that I could walk home alone–clearly a luxurious privilege to which I am not entitled as a woman.

While I’m fairly sure he was just a drunk asshole and that either way it would have been fine, the entire thing was a reminder of how free men feel to violate women’s personal space and to continue doing so, even when it is very clear that they’re uncomfortable and not at all interested in pursuing the conversation.

It also pissed me off. I’m a grown woman. I shouldn’t have to feel stupid for considering walking home alone for five blocks in my own neighborhood. I also shouldn’t have to feel that I need to take a cab everywhere in the city not because I’m too lazy to walk, but because I’m afraid of the insensitive and unpredictable predators that I might find along the way.

When I got home, I found this blog by accident through Blogger’s Blogs of Note. I’m just sad it didn’t occur to me to take a picture, but next time, I’ll certainly try. This is a wonderful idea and means to give voice to the small disturbances and demeaning experiences women face all the time, and pretty much accept as part of their daily lives.

Dude, if you’re out there and reading this, you should be ashamed of yourself. I’m ashamed for you.

no comments 
groping, Verbal

Expect it but Don’t Accept it

Perhaps I thought it was normal, or maybe I just accepted it, but I refuse to anymore. 

The first real incidence was when I was 12 or so, kneeling down looking at books in a bookstore. There was a man in sweats reading a book at the same section. I get totally absorbed when I read but he kept moving closer and closer. Next thing I know hes about 2 feet away and has a giant boner sticking out of his sweatpants. I quickly got up and went to a different part of the store (It disturbs me to this day that I didn’t do anything, perhaps because that man has or is molesting a child, and I could have done something to prevent that. I would like nothing better then to go back in time and change my reaction).

The second time it happened I was interning in DC. A man sat down next to me in the metro and proceeded to start asking me all sorts of questions. Did I like to party? What kind of partying? Do I like to have sex? How much do I like to have sex? The metro was extremely crowded and I was afraid of making a scene. I would have made a scene had it happened to me now. Then he started to try and touch my breasts. I jumped up and got the hell out of there. While I probably was in no actual danger, I felt disgusting and shaken.

The third time was a few weeks later when I was in London. My friends and I were in a large group because the premiere of The Last Samurai was in town and we were trying to get a glimpse of tom cruise. There were so many people and we were all crushed up against one another. All of a sudden, I realize that there is someone behind me trying to grab my breasts again, with one hand on my ass. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t even tell which person it was, but I freaked out and got out of there quick.

These three accounts don’t even begin to describe all the catcalls and obnoxious words I have heard on the street while just minding my own business, trying to get to or from work up and down Third Avenue. It doesn’t take into account the hundreds of times I have seen men do it to women other then myself. The above stories were simply the most terrifying and disgusting.

I kept running away. Well, I am sick and tired of running away. Hollaback NYC has given me back what was brutally taken from me, and that is my respect and my power. It sickens me to think that these men think they have a right to demean a woman like that. What sickens me more is that I let them up until now. Who teaches them that such a thing is an acceptable way to treat an other human? It is just another example of how, in this world, women very often are not considered human. I have my camera ready to show them next time that not only am I human, but one who is able to Hollaback. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent, and I am not giving mine any longer by being a passive observer of abuse.

Submitted by Katie

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