My buddy Jaclyn told me yesterday about how she is catcalled every day on the way to work by some men working for a local plumbing firm. She is a proper feisty one when she wants to be, and considered approaching it head on, but - unsurprisingly - didn't feel safe enough to trek past them to the office to try to make herself heard. She emailed the firm's head office and - kudos to them - received a seemingly concerned and genuine reply. Whether it will result in any change to the behaviour of these men remains to be seen, but the interaction was positive.
This isn't just a warming tale of a woman being listened to and respected in an awkward situation - it is also a confession.
I have never been catcalled and sometimes I am jealous of those who have been.
Back up and clarify: I have been shouted at in the street. I don't know a single woman of my generation who has not experienced that. I've had a number of insulting phrases spewed in my direction from wee chancers in trackies to older gentlemen who ought to know better.
I get 'four eyes' thrown at me more than I care to admit - I would like to think adult men are above such playground cheap shots. Since I cut my hair short I've had 'dyke' a couple of time. I've had 'what are you?' and 'what are you supposed to be?' In high school, during break time, boys would line the corridors and yell 'boak' at the girls not deemed worthy of an 'I'd do her.' I've had a flat-out 'ew' -- simple and to the point (7/10).
Added to this, there was an unpleasant incident at a bus stop where a delightful chap spat on me twice. Once for glancing in his direction and the other for asking him not to spit on me.
Thing about these interactions is that there's no straight set of rules to follow to get these men to sit down and shut up. For ages, I just ignored them because I was a scared wee ball of insecurity and nerves -- had I been given a clear right to reply, I'd have agreed with them. Ignoring grows boring once you woman up a bit and realise that you don't have to take this shit any more. Giving a dirty look or the finger is satisfactory, but a non-verbal reply still means these men believe they have the upper hand. Confrontation can go a number of ways: I've had teenagers run away when I've started after them, but there was also the aforementioned spitting.
It's a shite state of affairs all round. Yet, every time this happens I am reminded of being on the sidelines of a conversation in my early 20s. A couple of my friends were bemoaning the fact that they walked past some builders and weren't rewarded with a wolf whistle. In these more enlightened times, we know this is nonsensical: a whistle or a yell from a stranger is not a compliment -- it's a complex power play, subconsciously or otherwise. So why do I get so miffed when I consider that no-one has yelled 'Look at the tits on that' at me?
I'm not sure when it was cemented into society that catcalling was a) something acceptable for grown-ass men to do or b) something women should actively want, but it happened and it is great that there are strong women out there railing against it. But it can all be traced back to this belief that a woman is only worth something if she is wanted; if she is a pretty or sexy or 'slutty' enough to be a prize or an object of desire. And, as is pointed out here, regarding all kinds of shouting at women -- 'positive' or 'negative' -- 'It is all treating a woman's appearance as something you have a right to comment on.'
It's difficult to pinpoint a way for this kind of attitude to be repressed once and for all. At the moment, all women can do is stand up to it -- and they are. There's the Hollaback movement, where women can share their stories of being harassed in the street, support each other and organise events to raise awareness and educate others. Plus, Reclaim the Night is pretty well-known and takes the concept even further -- organising protests and marches against all forms of male violence against women. Added to this, SlutWalks across the UK are doing sterling work to make it clear that what a woman decides to wear or how she acts is not an invitation for harassment and rape.
And these are all good and they are helpful for people like me -- who still have that prodding in the back of the mind that goes against everything they stand for and tells them that they should be flattered or expectant of a comment from a stranger in the street and to remind us that it doesn't make us bad feminists, it just makes us women.
This isn't just a warming tale of a woman being listened to and respected in an awkward situation - it is also a confession.
I have never been catcalled and sometimes I am jealous of those who have been.
 |
| Literally, a cat. Calling. |
Back up and clarify: I have been shouted at in the street. I don't know a single woman of my generation who has not experienced that. I've had a number of insulting phrases spewed in my direction from wee chancers in trackies to older gentlemen who ought to know better.
I get 'four eyes' thrown at me more than I care to admit - I would like to think adult men are above such playground cheap shots. Since I cut my hair short I've had 'dyke' a couple of time. I've had 'what are you?' and 'what are you supposed to be?' In high school, during break time, boys would line the corridors and yell 'boak' at the girls not deemed worthy of an 'I'd do her.' I've had a flat-out 'ew' -- simple and to the point (7/10).
Added to this, there was an unpleasant incident at a bus stop where a delightful chap spat on me twice. Once for glancing in his direction and the other for asking him not to spit on me.
Thing about these interactions is that there's no straight set of rules to follow to get these men to sit down and shut up. For ages, I just ignored them because I was a scared wee ball of insecurity and nerves -- had I been given a clear right to reply, I'd have agreed with them. Ignoring grows boring once you woman up a bit and realise that you don't have to take this shit any more. Giving a dirty look or the finger is satisfactory, but a non-verbal reply still means these men believe they have the upper hand. Confrontation can go a number of ways: I've had teenagers run away when I've started after them, but there was also the aforementioned spitting.
It's a shite state of affairs all round. Yet, every time this happens I am reminded of being on the sidelines of a conversation in my early 20s. A couple of my friends were bemoaning the fact that they walked past some builders and weren't rewarded with a wolf whistle. In these more enlightened times, we know this is nonsensical: a whistle or a yell from a stranger is not a compliment -- it's a complex power play, subconsciously or otherwise. So why do I get so miffed when I consider that no-one has yelled 'Look at the tits on that' at me?
 |
| An unfair representation of men who catcall. I'm sure these men are very respectful indeed |
I'm not sure when it was cemented into society that catcalling was a) something acceptable for grown-ass men to do or b) something women should actively want, but it happened and it is great that there are strong women out there railing against it. But it can all be traced back to this belief that a woman is only worth something if she is wanted; if she is a pretty or sexy or 'slutty' enough to be a prize or an object of desire. And, as is pointed out here, regarding all kinds of shouting at women -- 'positive' or 'negative' -- 'It is all treating a woman's appearance as something you have a right to comment on.'
It's difficult to pinpoint a way for this kind of attitude to be repressed once and for all. At the moment, all women can do is stand up to it -- and they are. There's the Hollaback movement, where women can share their stories of being harassed in the street, support each other and organise events to raise awareness and educate others. Plus, Reclaim the Night is pretty well-known and takes the concept even further -- organising protests and marches against all forms of male violence against women. Added to this, SlutWalks across the UK are doing sterling work to make it clear that what a woman decides to wear or how she acts is not an invitation for harassment and rape.
And these are all good and they are helpful for people like me -- who still have that prodding in the back of the mind that goes against everything they stand for and tells them that they should be flattered or expectant of a comment from a stranger in the street and to remind us that it doesn't make us bad feminists, it just makes us women.
