Thanks for the ride, though. :’)
My name is Emily, and this is my catcall story:
So yesterday was a beautiful, hot spring evening in Toronto, and having just missed my bus, I decided to take the 15 minute walk home from the station, despite having left my iPod at home that morning. It was about 9:00pm, but still quite bright out. I was really enjoying the walk, when about halfway home I passed a truck with it’s windows down. The man sitting in the driver’s seat said, in a leering voice, “hey babe, want a ride home?” Obviously I knew to pay him no mind, so I just continued my walk attempting to ignore him. Luckily, the situation ended there, and the rest of my walk was uneventful, but that one comment got me thinking for the rest of my walk about catcalls and what they’re really all about.
If there’s one thing I know about catcalls and all other forms of unwelcome attention by strange men, is that they have nothing to do with attractiveness. Really. Nothing. What it really is, is a form of power-play, or bullying. Men have been raised in a culture that tells them that in order to show off their masculinity, they must have control over women, and this is seen every day in the fact that men have no qualms about shouting rude, and sometimes not even sexual things at women whenever they please.
My favourite example of this happened to me about a year ago. I was waiting alone at my usual bus stop, wearing a long black trench coat, since I was expecting rain (so essentially my outfit was not revealing). At one point a van passed me, carrying what I imagine was a large group of guys about my age or younger. One boy decided it would be hilarious to shout out “Enjoy your bus ride, bitch!” I heard the rest of them laugh raucously as the van drove off. This all happened in a second, but I was so shocked. I didn’t know these boys, I had never spoken to them before in my life! How could they possibly know what kind of girl I was, let along assume I was a “bitch”. That’s when I realized that it didn’t matter who I was, the point was that I was a girl and therefore inferior to them. That meant that they could say whatever they wanted to me. I was completely dehumanized to them.
Many could argue that this was an isolated incident, which I will admit to, but I have many other experiences with this kind of attention, so I can tell you, this was no fluke. This is how I can with a good conscience, relate “harmless” catcalls on the street, to rape. It is a form of violence that happens because of the dehumanization of women in our culture. Rape doesn’t happen because men are just penises without brains, and they just can’t help themselves around a pretty girl. It happens because these men want to control something in a violent way. (And that’s why women can’t protect themselves from rape by the way they dress, but that’s a whole other story)
Now, I’m not saying that all men are like this 100% of the time, but I do think it’s a major problem that absolutely needs to be addressed. Do you think that man actually thought I would turn around and say “oh yes, thank you, I’d love a ride home, by the way let’s have sex!” Of course not. That wasn’t a pick up line, it was harassment. And this kind of thing needs to stop so that women like me can feel safer walking home on a beautiful spring evening.
This is my call to other bloggers and women out there, to tell your catcall story, and why you think it’s wrong. Maybe, with enough participation, we can bring a little more attention to this issue.
what the fuck are you fucking with me are you actually fucking with me do you want me to kill myself or just reblob this until i die omg
Crazy In the Deep — Adele vs Gnarls Barkley