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This person masturbates publicly while staring at first graders. I was overseeing them on a trip and beyond disgusted. Luckily they did not see him. I went and stood in front of them and made it obvious that I had noticed.
There’s a man named Mike. He was my brothers friend. He was 19 I was 15. Super creepy vibe from him. One day at the Middle country public library, I was reading a book. He was there and found me while I was down in the basement area reading a book. Well no one was around and he decided it was a good time to get on top of me and hump me. I was freaking out. He then shoved his tongue down my throat I pushed him away and I ran like hell. Never went back to the library after that.
Waiting for 38 bus and man yells at me from his car while at a long red light to suck him and made gestures to me
I was on my way to a gig with my violin on my back, wearing a long formal dress that covered most of my body. A man stopped directly in front of me on the street (after angling himself into my path coming towards me) while I was obviously in a hurry, blocking my path. He then started saying “Ahh god you are so gorgeous, mmmm so sexy mami”. I swerved around him and I swear that the level at which I growled “leave me the fuck alone” was so strong that it dislodged his giant shades. As I sprinted away I could hear his stunned and immediate apology. This is the first time I’ve ever received an apology for something like that from a douchebag on the street and I feel powerful.
I know it’s not always possible for everyone to respond to harassment for concern of self-preservation, but I encourage you to speak up. Yell back. Challenge the authority being thrust upon you by a complete stranger with no reason for entitlement aside from birth into an crooked patriarchal culture.
Two men harassed and yelled at me for pulling up my pants and then called my stomach fat.
Usually when I or my female friends are harassed (which happens at least once a day in hot weather) I tell our harassers to “keep their [expletive that varies] eyes ahead.” Well, today on my walk home from the train, a man (speeding waaaaaay too fast before and after the incident) pulled up to me and screamed at me, what I think was “HOE.” It was really primal, loud, and sudden so I am not sure if that was it, but I don’t see what else it could have been (it was definitely not “hey” but even if was, still not ok.) As a result, I scream in shock. He laughs and speeds away. I am too shaken to even curse him out like I normally do to harassers. It was humiliating and so unexpected, happening in my quiet neighborhood. Afterwards I calmed myself down with deep breaths, telling myself that 1. he’s an idiot who will most likely never achieve what I’ve achieved in any given month of the year and 2. his goal was to freak me out and humiliate me, so if I continued hyperventilating and feeling embarrassed and guilty, he wins. This helped me get back to normal as I continued my walk home. After so many incidents of street harassment, I am proud and thankful that I am able to get back to normal quickly and use each incident as motivation for more confidence.
I tried to steady my breath as I hid behind a stairwell on 19th and Gramercy Park West.
My first instinct was to text my friend and roommate Emily. As I typed to her frantically, I watched the flow of pedestrians on the corner of 19th and Park Avenue South. I caught a glimpse of the catcaller walking up Park Avenue South and let out a shaky sigh of relief.
Just a moment before that, I had been walking home from Union Square. It was rush hour and the streets were packed with people. I heard a voice behind me say, “Hey beautiful.” By the time I realized the comment was for me, a man two heads taller than me walked up to my left side. I kept my eyes ahead and I immediately started to think of escape routes. He followed me for a block saying “Hey beautiful” “Where you heading to today” “Hey babe I just wanna talk to you.” He kept dipping his head down and leaning in towards me, trying to catch my line of sight.
I figured I would ditch him at 19th street by going left instead of straight ahead. I made sure to walk at a pace that would ensure me a smooth get away. I picked up my pace and at the curb, I stopped suddenly in hope that it would throw him off guard. It threw him off guard a little, but not enough. As I went behind him and to my left, he grabbed my right arm by the wrist. I tugged hard once and couldn’t free myself from his grip. A fraction of a second after I tugged again and finally broke free. He tried to lurch forwards and grab me again, but I ran as fast as I could across the intersection. The light had just stopped flashing the red hand.
I could hear him shouting after me. “You fucking racist.” “Fuck you cunt.” “Go back to your country.”
When I made it to the other side, I took a short loop and came back out around to Gramercy Park where I texted Emily in a frantic panic and decided to file a police report for an assault. I called 911 and then a police car came and picked me up to do what they call a “canvassing” of the area. The two policemen in the front seat told me to keep a lookout for the guy, but we didn’t find him. 15 minutes later, the policeman told me that unless he saw the act happen the man couldn’t be filed for charges even if we found him. He said this was harassment, not assault. His partner then turned on the radio and asked me where I lived. They took me home.
Everyday I get catcalled at least once. Shorts, jeans, t-shirts, jackets, dresses, parkas…it’s really not a matter of apparel. I’ll be anticipating it as I walk by a group of construction workers or when a man on the subway makes a point to stare at me with inappropriately lingering eyes. I keep my eyes down and my music loud through my earbuds. I hear their shouts and whistles between song lyrics and I shut it out of my mind. Sometimes I can’t help it and my I can feel my face starting to get hot. I’m always torn between snapping back with an insult, but I don’t think it’s ever worth creating an even more dangerous situation.
When the police officers dropped off at home they said a simple, “Bye. Have a nice day.” I closed the door behind me as they sped off. I stood there on the side of the street, my hair getting caught in the wind of passing cars as I found myself being slowly swallowed up by the masses of people getting off work. I slowly crossed the street, feeling strangely alone and very vulnerable. I felt like nothing had changed. Why did I even call the police? I was back on the street with all of the perverts and catcallers and people who make my skin crawl. Looking at all the people swarming around me, I wondered to myself: Why didn’t anybody say something? Why didn’t anybody stop to help?
I guess maybe I don’t really have a point I’m trying to get at. Of course, women deserve to be respected whether they’re covered from head to toe or wearing absolutely nothing at all. It would be nice for women like me to not have to walk briskly past a group of leering men, ready for the barrage of words we’re already ready to hear. I don’t want to be “used” to verbal and physical harassment. I don’t want to turn up my music and avert my gaze. I don’t want to pretend I can’t hear what they say they wish they could do to me. The nauseous, hot feeling I get in my chest – I can only hope that I never have to feel it for another day of my life. That’s all I have to say for now.
I was walking with my friend at a public garden with not many other people around. A group of loud men entered the vicinity and started commenting on our appearance. Saying things such as “That a** is fat. The purple haired one is cute. Want to come get this d***?” We continued to walk away in silence as one of them continued to yell at us from afar. After reaching a safe distance, I turned around and yelled SHUT UP. The guy made some dejected comment, and later his friend tried to apologize on his behalf. My friend was too shy to say anything, I felt bad for her and she looked disturbed. I tried to avoid them but it bothered me for a while afterward and tainted our outing.