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A woman relates her hardships with catcalling and street harassment.
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How many leers, how many unwanted comments and touches does it take to take away your right to walk on the same sidewalk, to ride the same subway, as anyone else? How many times must you watch the smile on a stranger’s face widen in perverse excitement at your revulsion? Once a month? A week? More? If my experiences were limited to the above encounters, perhaps I would know.
I was sexually harassed on a regular basis from the year I turned fourteen until the year I left for college. I tried so hard, every day, to ignore it. But I couldn’t. It changed me. The irrepressible nervousness when a stranger approached. Being afraid to look any man on the street in the eyes. Worrying I was being followed. Not wanting to leave my house unless I had to. Crying. Not crying until I got home, then crying. Hating myself for crying. Playing the faces of dozens of men back in my mind—I remember them all. Wondering what would have happened if I had bumped into them in a deserted area. The rape nightmares.
-- Alice Xie, "My Street, My Body, My Right"
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Although many men, maybe even most men, are gentlemanly enough, I don't imagine this problem will ever go away. The sexual hunger is perhaps too strong and constant. Men are hurting, too.
(Photo: "American Girl in Italy" (1951) by Ruth Orkin)
_ _ _
How many leers, how many unwanted comments and touches does it take to take away your right to walk on the same sidewalk, to ride the same subway, as anyone else? How many times must you watch the smile on a stranger’s face widen in perverse excitement at your revulsion? Once a month? A week? More? If my experiences were limited to the above encounters, perhaps I would know.
I was sexually harassed on a regular basis from the year I turned fourteen until the year I left for college. I tried so hard, every day, to ignore it. But I couldn’t. It changed me. The irrepressible nervousness when a stranger approached. Being afraid to look any man on the street in the eyes. Worrying I was being followed. Not wanting to leave my house unless I had to. Crying. Not crying until I got home, then crying. Hating myself for crying. Playing the faces of dozens of men back in my mind—I remember them all. Wondering what would have happened if I had bumped into them in a deserted area. The rape nightmares.
-- Alice Xie, "My Street, My Body, My Right"
_ _ _
Although many men, maybe even most men, are gentlemanly enough, I don't imagine this problem will ever go away. The sexual hunger is perhaps too strong and constant. Men are hurting, too.
(Photo: "American Girl in Italy" (1951) by Ruth Orkin)
