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I planned to start off this article with my worst street harassment story, but then I came to a pretty messed up realization: I didn’t know which story to use because there are so many to choose from.
Nevertheless, here’s a tale that I think makes a pretty big statement: Once, during sophomore year of college, I was sick with a nasty cold. I was walking down the cold streets of D.C., heading back to my dorm and clutching a bag of recently purchased cough medicine, when ridiculousness struck. Out of nowhere, a man drives past me, slams on his breaks, literally leans his head out of his window and starts trying to hit on me.
My outfit: A well worn pair of jeans, a sweater, a hoodie and a massive scarf. Super tantalizing.
So often we’re fed this notion that cat-calls and leers have some rhyme or reason to them. We’ve seen it in television and movies, when a woman walks around with a short skirt or a skin-tight blouse, eliciting reactions from clusters of men. It’s easy to buy into this myth, that short shorts, tight pants and ample cleavage are the holy trinity of attracting horny men. It’s easy to put the onus on ourselves, for daring to wear a short skirt on a hot day, or daring to put on that pair of pants that makes our butt look great or daring to have breasts.
The fact is that no matter what we wear, some men will still see us as nothing more than sex objects. I’ve been harassed walking around Brooklyn, driving in my car in L.A. and heading toward the Tube in London. I’ve been harassed wearing heavy coats and baby doll dresses. The number of times I’ve had to fabricate imaginary boyfriends to escape relentless strangers is distressingly high. I can’t even begin to count the number of times that I’ve had my peace of mind violated while trying to run a simple errand, all because some stranger thinks that he is entitled to my attention, as if I should be flattered. Yeah, right. I don’t feel flattered, I feel insulted and demoralized.
So here’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth: Nothing you wear or don’t wear will curb street harassment. The only thing that’ll reduce street harassment is men not harassing you. You aren’t to blame for a random man’s inability to treat you with common decency. He’s the one with the problem, not you.
As much as I want to lash out against my harassers, it’s so much easier said than done since these interactions usually happen so quickly; by the time I process what happened, I’ve already walked past them. I hate to think that there’s nothing that we can do to feel more powerful in the face of street harassment. Action groups such as Hollaback provide resources, personal stories, and even a smartphone app to help victims of street harassment. They’re seriously awesome. But what else can we do to put harassers in their place?
What are some of your experiences with street harassment and how do you handle them? Do you have any suggestions for those of us who feel stuck? Tell us in the comments!
Sexist Lego Construction Workers Catcall Girls!
Once I was in a store with my mother, and I had wandered off to find some headphones, and a man wolf-whistled at me. I ignored the whistle and proceeded to look for the headphones. He followed me around the store until I decided to use my MMA and I almost broke his nose.
That’s that you get for hitting on me.
Once I was walking the block between my house and a store to run an errand and a man went by on a bike and yelled something at me. I payed no mind. Around a minute later, the same man appears, agitated, and screams the same thing back at me. Apparently he went around the block in his bike just to shout the same nonense again. And did so a third time, thankfully I was just getting to where I was going because it was starting to seriusly freak me out. This happened on the middle of a summer afternoon, while I was wearing jeans, a tee and flip flops, so I can say that I vouch for what you´re saying, it doesn´t matter what you wear.