Street harassment is public sexual harassment. Those who can expect to go about their day without being examined or assessed by strangers don’t seem to treat this as a real issue. Street harassment is:
Being able to appear in public without experiencing harassment is a right that should be extended to all human beings. Instead, almost all women experience some variety of this during their lifetimes:
Hello beautiful
Hey mami
What’s your name? What’s your number”
Hey sexy!
Every. single. day.
It’s not flattering. It’s not respectful.
Walking through a busy park, a man on a bicycle makes kissy noises at me. I curse at him, loudly, before I have time to deliberate if that would be an appropriate way to respond or not. This is on the same day that a motorist throws an empty bottle at me while coming off the I-84 ramp near the state capitol building.
I’m getting over a cold and wearing sweatpants. These aren’t the kind with words stamped on the back. These are plain, dowdy sweatpants. A man approaches me with the usual language of “looking good.”
A man drives slowly next to me. I hear, “psst, psst hey.” I don’t respond. “Hey, I’m talkin’ to you.” I think to myself, “No, you’re not talking to me. You’re trying to assert power over me. That’s not a conversation. That’s an attempt to dictate. Learn the difference.”
On an average day, if I am out walking, I get 2-4 remarks from strangers. I’ve counted as many as eight within half an hour. All races. All ages. In a variety of languages. I am not alone in experiencing unwanted suggestive and sometimes lewd comments or actions. Recently, while a friend was walking her dog, four older teen boys said they would tie her up and rape her. As if this weren’t horrifying enough to hear, they then called her a “whore.” Then they laughed, because assaulting women, as we all know, is hilarious.
There are too many stories to relay. The times I have spoken up or taken a type of action, like pretending to call the police, the harasser stopped immediately. When I have chosen to say or do nothing, the harasser continues talking or behaving obscenely until I am out of sight/earshot.
It seems that everyone has an answer for how to deal with this, ranging from the victim-blaming (“Why were you walking alone?”) to the semi-victim-blaming (“You shouldn’t even look at them. Make sure you cross the street.”) to the learned helpless/hopelessness that favors evasive action (“It’s always been that way and there’s nothing you can do, so you might as well drive everywhere to get away from it.”) to the more active (“You should carry a whistle”).
Maybe, instead of telling the victim what s/he should be doing, we offer options for action (or inaction) so that the victim feels empowered to make some of her own choices. The entire scenario offered up with street harassment is one in which the objectified person is the victim of an attempted robbery; her agency and dignity is what she is expected to hand over. She’s already been told to smile, answer when she is being spoken to, give her name, give her number, give over rights to herself…she does not need someone telling her how to respond to all of that.
There are options. In every situation, the person needs to assess the best type of action to take. She needs to consider what the possible consequences will be of taking action. There are split-second assessments to be made: how many people are there? Is this a young adolescent or a large teenager, or someone else? If need be, can she outrun this person? Is he all talk, or is there potential for immediate violence? Is this happening in a busy area during lunch time or on a side street late at night? Are you in an area where people often “settle disputes” with guns, or is it a relatively tame neighborhood? Is the harasser mentally ill or impaired due to substance use (i.e. not predictable)?
“Ignoring it” is an option. So is saying, “Do not speak to me.”
But women are socialized to be nice and polite, not confrontational. That needs to change. We should not feel the need to justify taking action when we are being harassed or assaulted.
An action that can be taken is to hollaback, whether you have a phone with a camera, or no cell phone at all. Taking down a license plate number and reporting it to the police is an option. We only ever seem to hear about schoolchildren reporting creeps to the police, as if adults getting harassed have no legal rights until the actions escalate beyond verbal harassment. Actually fighting back, if attacked, is another option. In every scenario there is a decision to be made that we do not know the outcome of until we have taken an action. Most women have been raised on a steady diet of horrible made-for-tv movies, myth-based emails, and word-of-mouth horror stories about what can happen. There’s no need to remind anyone about what the worst case scenario could be.
What it comes down to is that we have the right to respond. None of this is to say that the person being harassed is responsible for causing or stopping such behaviors. The onus of stopping street harassment is on those who harass. But this does not mean that those on the receiving end should be expected to silently endure.
“Boys just being boys” is not acceptable. That it may just be “all talk” does not make it acceptable. Call it what it is: bullying. Verbal assault. Threatening.
If these young folks know this behavior is a problem, why don’t those twice their age know it?
What have you done to respond to street harassment? As the object of it? As a witness to it?
Disclaimer: this post is intended as discussion, not advice. That should be glaringly obvious, but I’ll spell it out for those who lack critical thinking abilities.
TC
Thanks for writing this.
Ryoot
I can’t imagine having to deal with this. Its scary enough to think my daughter will someday (later, hopefully not sooner) have to contend with this behavior. I think, as a man, we need to check ourselves and others around us to relay the message that this is not acceptable behavior. Personally, I’ve always been of the midset that if a woman wants to be approached then she will make it clear to me. Otherwise, leave them alone fellas.
Steve
Word.
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Robin @ Bird In The Hand
Thank you for writing this! So sad that it is so true.
Damian
The perspective of a fella may be different but still insightful, so here’s two scenes from my experience; one sad, one not sad.
1) I walk through Goodwin Park regularly. I expect it to be nice and safe because it is. Mostly I just have to look out for speeding cars.
A few weeks ago I was taking my daily constitutional, enjoying the air and trees. I noticed an SUV parked up ahead on the roadside. It wasn’t speeding, so I went on looking at trees and stuff on my side of the road.
As I passed the big car, loud gunshots rang out and my heart leaped into my mouth. Five or six shots went off before I realized that the knucklehead in the SUV was playing a recording of gunshots on his hi-fi stereo just for me. Incredibly, within a split second my better instinct took over and I turned to him and nodded as if to say ‘hello’.
Do you know what the dumbfxck did? He flinched! He ducked and blinked. Why he did so I may never know, but I suspect the same thing that made him a little terrorist in the first place is what made him flinch. Maybe he was afraid, and always afraid of being afraid.
As I continued walking and the little child in the big car drove off, a flood of anger swept over me. I thought of getting a permit and a pistol and righteously defending my feeling of safety in my park.
Incredibly, again, after maybe just a minute, that blind anger sublimated into sadness …for every fool who behaves that way or is driven to behave that way or to violence and abuse and the cycle that continues on and on…
2) I was strolling down Maple Ave., just across from the old Cafe 880 Jazz Club, when I heard a girl’s voice shouting at me,
“Daaaamn, you UGLY!!! You UUUUGLY!!!!”
Having grown up in the South End I recognized this aggressive screeching as a flirtatious come-on. Being demure, I played coy and looked down, hiding a smile that was starting to form on my lips. Then I heard an angry,
“LOOK AT ME!!!!!”
I couldn’t help it. Trying to keep a straight face, I looked up into the open window of a passing school bus only to see a teen-aged girl’s face trying to give me a hard stare. But when she saw me concealing that little smile, her hard mug just broke, and as the bus passed, both our faces contorted with laughter.
_______
I don’t know what it is to be a woman and to experience some combination of the preceding 2 scenes every day. Maybe I understand a little, I don’t know. But I do think this is true: the actions of the people who behave that way are a reflection of what’s missing inside of them. Mostly they’re weak and afraid inside, and they need what they most lack – their own love and respect for themselves.
Kerri Provost
Thanks for your response.
On a sidenote, how sad is it that we have to look out for speeding cars inside of parks?
Damian
Goody used to have speed bumps; what happened to them is a mystery.
Cars don’t belong in parks, anyways. Parking lots for parks ought to have separate entrances, like in Pope, although that design didn’t prevent a tragedy.
Most of the trash in the parks proliferates along the roadways, too. In fact, the relationship between cars and garbage is so strong, you’d think only bad people drive cars.
elizabeth
Wow. Humans are so inventive. Applying the obnoxiousness of an aggressive sound system to the sound of real physical danger, now there’s a humdinger of a way to be an idiot. I’d say the flea in the SUV flinched because, for a nanosecond, he thought you had the REAL gun.
And, for what it is worth, Damian, over the years this woman has come to this conclusion: that if I were a man would my vulnerability would diminish in many situations and bloom in others.
Damian
Yes, thank you.
In that first minute of emotion after the flea-brain took off I was actually blaming myself, wondering if I looked like an off-duty cop, or just too straight-laced or something.
And, I think your conclusion is spot-on.
Julie Beman
I recall so many instances of street harassment.
When I was a teenager in my suburban hometown, a man pulled over in a truck. Thinking that he was going to ask for directions, like so many drivers before him, I paused. The next thing I knew he was telling me that he wanted to take me out for dinner and drinks, and then back to his place. I can’t remember what I did, but I know I felt shame.
Why should I feel shame because of the bad behavior of someone else?
Another time I was at the library and again, a man in a truck pulled up. “You have a fine shape,” he said. I didn’t quite know what to make of that one. So eloquent. So creepy.
One sunny day I was walking my puppy Ladybug up Maple Avenue, across from Goodwin Park. I was probably singing, which I do a lot when I walk. A man pulled over in his car. I remember it was an older car, gray or tan or some nondescript color. I know it was an older car because it had pointy edges, if that makes any sense.
At any rate, he smiled at me. I smiled back, whatever, expecting him to ask for directions. After he remained silent, just smiling, I realized he was masturbating. So I walked away. He started driving next to me, keeping pace with me, still smiling, still masturbating. Then he drove up the street. I felt relieved, until I saw him stop. And then he started backing up toward me and Ladybug again. He was still smiling, still masturbating. I know I didn’t say anything. I was feeling quite confused.
And then I turned around and walked back down Maple, away from him.
But I was still confused, and believe it or not, even though it was 13 years ago, I’m still confused.
I wondered things like, “What did I do to deserve this? Am I wearing something that marks me for this treatment? Do I look like a person who would enjoy his behavior? Am I sending some kind of message somehow? Should I have been walking somewhere else? Did I move to the wrong neighborhood? Can I walk alone here? Am I going to have to walk with my partner all the time?”
Julie Beman
And to be super clear…I should be able to wear whatever the f*ck I want. Nothing I could wear “marks” me for that kind of treatment.
Kerri Provost
Absolutely! That was my point about the story with me in sweatpants. Doesn’t matter if I’m dressed up for a night on the town or if I’m wearing ugly jammies or a burlap sack…the harassment still happens.
Danika
No, nobody deserves this kind of treatment. Unfortunately, when faced with the female of the species, many men (and sometimes I am close to giving up on all of masculinity) turn into lower life forms with just one thing on their tiny, amphibian brain: “vagina” and the logically following “must introduce penis.” Any and all harassment activity, however stupid, however clumsy and obviously (obvious to women) ineffective, is geared towards this goal. You are witnessing primal, primate, hard-wired mating behaviour. Ridiculous and pathetic. As I’ve said before: If I were a man, I’d be walking around feeling ashamed for the actions of my fellow men most of the time.
PS: You think it’s bad in the suburban US? Imagine the possibilities in a Middle Eastern Country (one of the more “open,” “modern,” “westernized” ones.
PPS: That being said, “civilization,” or whatever we mistake for it, does not prevent sexual predator behavior. Look at the current DSK affair, or even Arnold’s dirty laundry.
Julie Beman
If this is “hard-wired mating behaviour” then it’s also an opportunity to meditate on the Darwinian notion of natural selection.
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