When the Washington City Paper ran a cover story this week called, "Nice ass!: Not even grandmas are safe from D.C.’s street harrassers," I picked it up, and then read about it again on the blogosphere.
Where, I must admit, I was a bit shocked by the criticism the authors took for it, particularly in reference to Kimberly Klinger’s companion pieces, "I’ve Got Your ‘Hey Baby!’ Right Here" and "Diary of a Catcall Hater." Because even after reading Feministing’s critical take on the pieces, I was still left with the same feeling, that regardless of the potentially racist undertones or naivety and varying degrees of sensitivity of the reporter, I was glad it was documented.
And honestly.
Because to me, what is important (and harmful) about street harrassment has everything to do with its affect on those who are harrassed–the women and girls simply trying to make their way around the city.
So I appreciated Klinger’s honesty in documenting those affects–the frustration, the growing disrespect, the mistrust, and, yes, potentially, racist sentiments (however illogical she admits they are)–and the ensuing conflict and confusion she feels as a result.
Because they are an honest outshoot and piece of the experience.
And yet another great reason to end it.
Because the point is that if behavior is unwanted, it should be stopped. There is no need to discuss it within a framework of race or culture or diversity.
When women feel unsafe, the behavior is not okay. Full stop.
I guess I was far less concerned reading the article about the racial undercurrent and discussion, perhaps because I was so busy being horrified by the behavior the women experienced on the streets, and by the sense of entitlement shared by the men who did it, over the women’s reactions, space and sense of self. A few samplings:
It’s tough in D.C. Especially with white girls. They are stuck up, man. Bi#@$.
It depends on what she looks like. If she’s a slut, you have to treat her like a slut. If she’s not, I say, ‘How you doing young lady?’
"F-you bi#*%, you ugly anyway.’ (Street harrasser to a woman who confronted him.)
The reporter states, "I’m thinking maybe Klinger’s approach is a bit too academic. Contreras seems like a good guy on the lookout for a good woman. Maybe the shouts are just men trying to pick up women, no different than starting a conversation at a bar, just more…matter-of-fact."
Yeah, no. And here’s why. Because at the core of Klinger’s feelings–and the feelings of many of the women interviewed in the article–is not racism, or even mild irritation, but fear:
I"ve become scared and angry. And I f-ing hate it…I can’t hate them for any reason connected to their race…I can, however, hate them for the way they disrespect me.
I guess I would [appreciate the compliment] if I weren’t feeling annoyed, threatened, and scared. The tone of most harrassment is very hostile. Sometimes it escalates to full-on yelling.
It hurts, it really does. It takes away from your self-esteem. It’s hard to hold my head up when I deal with this on a regular basis.
The armchair sociologist in me knows it’s all about power–that the men who harrass are just trying to look tough in front of their friends or assert their dominance…but what i hear is all about sex and shame. Shame on my part, anyway, as I hunch over to hide myself when I hear some jerk tell me what he’d like to do to me. It’s great fun.
(For more on women’s experiences with street harrassment in D.C., visit Don’t Be Silent: Speak Out Against Street Harrassment in D.C.)
Because a woman in a bar is surrounded by other people, is in a safe zone, and can be said even to perhaps be, by location, making herself available to social interaction with strangers. To someone wanting to strike up a conversation, and from whom, she can, if she wants, safely extricate herself verbally, and if necessary, with assistance from those around her.
Walking down the street, alone, is a different experience, and one that makes come ons, pick-ups and catcalls from men you don’t know very different from being approached in a social setting. It is scary, and puts women in a vulnerable position.
Something that should not be part of any woman’s life experience, no matter where she is from, where she is walking, or what she is wearing–or what the harrasser intends. Because a compliment is no longer a compliment if it doesn’t feel good to hear it.
So I’m glad, as we approach selecting local nonprofits for this year’s Leadership Awards around health and safety, that this issue has been raised and documented locally–in all of its confusion, conflict and ugliness.
Because our Portrait Project revealed among its findings on local women and girls that:
- Despite the overall decline in violence, local women and girls expressed an alarming sense of personal insecurity. Vulnerability to violence and lack of personal safety were two of the strongest themes that emerged when women were asked about the issues that affect their lives.
- More than 22,500 reprots of violence against women were made in 2000 alone in Washington, D.C.
- That same year, women made up 50 percent of all reported, violent crime victims in the District of Columbia.
- The rate of reported rapes in Washington, D.C. from 1997-1999 was markedly higher than other jurisdictions and exceeded the national figure.
As Denise Snyder, executive director of the D.C. Rape Crisis Center–which offers training in dealing with street harrassment [and is a Grantee Partner]–said in a Salon piece, "Too sexy for my shirt", "Women who’ve lived lots of places tell me it’s worse here than anywhere else."
The article goes on to say, "Quantifying an essentially untraceable phenomenon is extremely difficult, but it’s certainly true that street harassment is a historically controversial topic here. In 1990, a summer series of three Washington Post articles on street harassment — one journalistic, one essayistic, and one op-ed — caused a firestorm."
And history repeats itself.
I just wish that we could focus on the real root of the problem–the harrassment, and the power imbalances and disrespect for women that it indicates, and on stopping it–than on discussions of how it’s talked about or who is doing it or what it means or whether or not it’s just innocent or if it’s really that damaging.
Because it is.
As Klinger said in her article, "Why should we accept that? Why can’t I hate that?"
Exactly.
All issues of race aside, that seems pretty black and white to me.
