One of my favorite blogs, Gender Across Borders, made me aware that this is Anti-Street Harassment Week, or Street Harassment Awareness Week. Two days ago, I read the GAB post titled "She's Not Asking For It: Street Harassment and Women in Public Spaces," which was the inspiration behind this post.
Like most women, dealing with street harassment has been a regular part of my life since puberty. Like fewer women, I went through puberty at age 8, began wearing a bra in the third grade, and was my full height and only slightly smaller than I am now as a curvy thirty year old by the age of twelve. What this meant for me (and my poor mother!) was that much older men began hitting on me before I was even a teenager. And of course, the cat calls began very early on.
For some reason, when explaining my experience with street harassment I want to explain the physical characteristics that make me susceptible to harassment, such as my DDD breasts (even modest clothing can seem revealing when you're dealing with D+ cleavage) or my very pale skin that really stands out in summer. But my appearance is not the point! None of our appearances are the point. We all look very different and we all must navigate through harassment in public spaces. And my initial reaction to explain why my appearance leads to the harassment just shows how ingrained the gender power system is in my own mind as well (me, a self-described feminist since the age of 7 or earlier!), because I seemed to be ready to essentially support the excuses of unenlightened men who participate in and defend street harassment. Pshh. How could I!?!
Growing up in the suburbs in a neighborhood with very little car traffic and even less foot traffic, cat calls were usually limited to my walks on more main roads - when going to Carvel, to the 7-11, or to buy CDs at The Wall. Then I went to college in Philadelphia, and the cat calls starting coming from strange and sometimes intimidating men who were standing within feet or meters of me, instead of the "safe" distance of a car. I was young and living in West Philadelphia, so of course I almost always walked with at least one other friend at night. But even then, we would be harassed in groups by groups of men or sometimes frat boys. One time the harassment turned into assault as a girlfriend and I walked home on the main walk through campus and were both physically touched, my skirt being lifted off my body, by a group of drunk guys on the swim team (idiots were wearing their team jackets - not that us being able to later identify them did the guys any real harm - maybe the coach lectured them).
After college I worked in Manhattan and shortly thereafter moved to Brooklyn. Since walking in urban areas has been my primary mode of transportation for the last 8 years, the street harassment has been regular and plentiful.
But did I feel like it was hindering me from participating in... well, in life? In doing the things I enjoyed? Certainly it did effect some of my clothing choices, as I think it does for all of us women. Which isn't fair. But not until recently, until my move from Brooklyn to Union City, New Jersey, did the street harassment really start effecting me.
In the last three months, I've had to get used to the fact that every time I leave the house men will harass me in some way. In one week in January, three times that I went out on walks with my dogs, men approached me and walked with me, continued talking to me and hitting on me after I told them I wasn't interested, after I said I have a boyfriend that I live with, still pursued. Asked me personal questions and lingered for so long that on each of those walks I had to walk out of my way to be sure to not let the men see where I live.
Since that experience, which shook me up a bit, I haven't been walking my dog much further than two or three streets away and have only taken her to the dog park a couple of times. I also tend to stay home when no one else is home - if my ex-boyfriend or our friend that is staying with us are in, it seems less scary to venture out. It's getting warmer out, and I'm someone who seldom wears pants - I'm always in a dress, in summer, often strapless - but since the move to this neighborhood, I may be uncomfortable wearing my normal wardrobe.
I'm a jogger. When I run, I know my ass is hanging out in tight black leggings. I've gotten a few "nice ass" cat calls while on runs in this neighborhood, but that didn't bother me much. Sure, the men shouldn't feel it's okay to say, let alone yell, such things about my or any other persons body, but I wasn't made to feel uncomfortable. In general I find work-out clothes garner me less male attention, perhaps because I look empowered. So I'm left living somewhere where I can more easily go for a run than a casual walk with my dog!
So I wonder, what can I do in honor of Anti-Street Harassment Week? How can I contribute to ending this problem? Well, I think talking about it is the beginning. I should share my experiences with it, you should share yours. We should talk to young people about it. Girls and boys alike need to know not to participate in it and not to accept it from other.
On a positive note, when walking my dog around the block for her last walk of the day two nights ago, a couple of young men - probably between 18 and 20, approached from behind and crossed the street to allow me to walk on my side of the sidewalk undisturbed. I heard the conversation, and one young man suggested crossing the street to the other man and explained that that is what you should do when you see a woman walking by herself, unless you want to walk behind her to protect her from something. Yeah, I heard this right around the block, in this neighborhood where I have otherwise found the street harassment to be on steroids! So there is hope! Hope in the young!
Like most women, dealing with street harassment has been a regular part of my life since puberty. Like fewer women, I went through puberty at age 8, began wearing a bra in the third grade, and was my full height and only slightly smaller than I am now as a curvy thirty year old by the age of twelve. What this meant for me (and my poor mother!) was that much older men began hitting on me before I was even a teenager. And of course, the cat calls began very early on.
For some reason, when explaining my experience with street harassment I want to explain the physical characteristics that make me susceptible to harassment, such as my DDD breasts (even modest clothing can seem revealing when you're dealing with D+ cleavage) or my very pale skin that really stands out in summer. But my appearance is not the point! None of our appearances are the point. We all look very different and we all must navigate through harassment in public spaces. And my initial reaction to explain why my appearance leads to the harassment just shows how ingrained the gender power system is in my own mind as well (me, a self-described feminist since the age of 7 or earlier!), because I seemed to be ready to essentially support the excuses of unenlightened men who participate in and defend street harassment. Pshh. How could I!?!
Growing up in the suburbs in a neighborhood with very little car traffic and even less foot traffic, cat calls were usually limited to my walks on more main roads - when going to Carvel, to the 7-11, or to buy CDs at The Wall. Then I went to college in Philadelphia, and the cat calls starting coming from strange and sometimes intimidating men who were standing within feet or meters of me, instead of the "safe" distance of a car. I was young and living in West Philadelphia, so of course I almost always walked with at least one other friend at night. But even then, we would be harassed in groups by groups of men or sometimes frat boys. One time the harassment turned into assault as a girlfriend and I walked home on the main walk through campus and were both physically touched, my skirt being lifted off my body, by a group of drunk guys on the swim team (idiots were wearing their team jackets - not that us being able to later identify them did the guys any real harm - maybe the coach lectured them).
After college I worked in Manhattan and shortly thereafter moved to Brooklyn. Since walking in urban areas has been my primary mode of transportation for the last 8 years, the street harassment has been regular and plentiful.
But did I feel like it was hindering me from participating in... well, in life? In doing the things I enjoyed? Certainly it did effect some of my clothing choices, as I think it does for all of us women. Which isn't fair. But not until recently, until my move from Brooklyn to Union City, New Jersey, did the street harassment really start effecting me.
In the last three months, I've had to get used to the fact that every time I leave the house men will harass me in some way. In one week in January, three times that I went out on walks with my dogs, men approached me and walked with me, continued talking to me and hitting on me after I told them I wasn't interested, after I said I have a boyfriend that I live with, still pursued. Asked me personal questions and lingered for so long that on each of those walks I had to walk out of my way to be sure to not let the men see where I live.
Since that experience, which shook me up a bit, I haven't been walking my dog much further than two or three streets away and have only taken her to the dog park a couple of times. I also tend to stay home when no one else is home - if my ex-boyfriend or our friend that is staying with us are in, it seems less scary to venture out. It's getting warmer out, and I'm someone who seldom wears pants - I'm always in a dress, in summer, often strapless - but since the move to this neighborhood, I may be uncomfortable wearing my normal wardrobe.
I'm a jogger. When I run, I know my ass is hanging out in tight black leggings. I've gotten a few "nice ass" cat calls while on runs in this neighborhood, but that didn't bother me much. Sure, the men shouldn't feel it's okay to say, let alone yell, such things about my or any other persons body, but I wasn't made to feel uncomfortable. In general I find work-out clothes garner me less male attention, perhaps because I look empowered. So I'm left living somewhere where I can more easily go for a run than a casual walk with my dog!
So I wonder, what can I do in honor of Anti-Street Harassment Week? How can I contribute to ending this problem? Well, I think talking about it is the beginning. I should share my experiences with it, you should share yours. We should talk to young people about it. Girls and boys alike need to know not to participate in it and not to accept it from other.
On a positive note, when walking my dog around the block for her last walk of the day two nights ago, a couple of young men - probably between 18 and 20, approached from behind and crossed the street to allow me to walk on my side of the sidewalk undisturbed. I heard the conversation, and one young man suggested crossing the street to the other man and explained that that is what you should do when you see a woman walking by herself, unless you want to walk behind her to protect her from something. Yeah, I heard this right around the block, in this neighborhood where I have otherwise found the street harassment to be on steroids! So there is hope! Hope in the young!
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