Street Harassment, or a Tale of Every Woman
#yesallwomen
An important thing that came out of the #YesAllWomen hashtag and movement of a few weeks ago was that women started sharing their stories more openly, started recognizing that all women have a shared experience.
I shared a video I saw via Upworthy the other day from Vocativ about street harassment. Every story in the video hit home with me, even if I hadn't had those same experiences.
I'm going to share my personal experiences, to add context. They were just a few years apart, and neither was the worst thing that could have happened, but they are representative of what happens to women every day in every city in America. And, probably, the world.
I was 21 and an intern at the Courier-Journal in Louisville, Ky., for the summer. During my last week, I was walking to from the newspaper's building in downtown to the courthouse a few blocks away. I was going to cover a hearing when an older man (I can see his face in my memory, to this day - squarish features, white hair, mustache) reached out, grabbed my left breast and said, "Nice tit!"
He kept walking down the street. I was frozen to my bone for a second. I glanced back at him, I knew where the police station was, right next to the courthouse. I was only two blocks away. I ran there, figuring there was a chance for this asshole to get his due.
I got there, quickly explained what had happened and got blank stares in return.
I don't remember exactly what they said; it was all a blur. But, basically, they told me there was nothing they could do. "He's only a couple blocks away and I can identify him!" I said. They told me there was nothing to be done.
I marched my fanny back to the newsroom and straight into the city editor's office. I told him what had happened and he was in shock. I was probably crying at this point. The hearing I'd gone to cover would go uncovered - they needed to get someone there! (Side note: The hearing ended up being not really anything, but it was something I could hold onto and project as the important thing.)
The editor called the police chief, and my mentor took me to the cafeteria to help me pull myself together. By the time I got back, I had an apology from the chief of police and a bouquet of flowers on my desk from the newsroom.
Flash-forward a few years. I can't remember how many, exactly.I was leaving an outdoor music festival in West Palm Beach with friends. We were walking back to our car, and laughing and chatting. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my butt. I glanced over and saw a man walk past. No one else was there at the moment, unless it had been one of my friends who'd done it.
Instinct took over. I marched after this guy, shoved him hard in the back and yelled, "You don't do that to women!"
He looked at me, a fake look of bewilderment on his face. "You don't grab women's asses! Fuck you!"
Completely embarrassed, he turned around and fled. I turned back to rejoin my friends, only to see that in addition to them, a few other people were watching.
They began to applaud. Men and women.
These are small stories. I've had worse happen. Some friends I know have had far, far, far worse happen.
But the point is, #yesallwomen have experienced this. Some urge fighting back. Some say that only escalates and can cause further harm.
I don't blame anyone for how they react, because it's very easy to say how you'd react in a certain situation, and another to be faced with it and have to actually react. The point is, until we start sharing our stories and show each other we're not alone, we are alone.
Photo by Aaron Muszalski via Flickr Creative Commons.