For years I worked in Washington D.C.
Like most cities, if you commute to a job in the city you are forced to encounter all sorts of people. Many complain that courtesy and manners are lacking in contemporary public life, especially in the city, but I generally find people to be very polite and well intentioned.
As a younger single guy, I also see a lot of young ladies who catch my eye. If this were a club or party I could strike up a conversation with these women, but on a commute, whether bus, subway or street there is usually no pretext. Many times I told myself, "there goes another one" to my regret.
I thought something was wrong with myself. I'm not confident enough.
I wanted to get to know these women I saw on the subway, hold onto them, greet them, compliment them, anything. There was pent up energy. I didn't just want them to slip away at the next stop or traffic light. Why didn't I take my chance? Was there something wrong with me? But I held back. My feelings were grounded solely in lust- a perfectly valid reaction yes, but not an honest foundation for a relationship.
A few days ago I discovered this site called Hollaback DC. Hollaback DC is "fighting street harassment in America’s capital by empowering Washingtonians to speak out against gender based public sexual harassment." From Hollaback DC I discovered that not only do a lot of guys act on the urges that I had, but it hurts a lot of women more than I thought. In one case a man in a car drives up to a woman and yells "hey, sexy!" and she feels scared and physically threatened, then angry and degraded. In another a man walks up to two women with his penis sticking out of his jeans. In another a man approached a woman at a metro stop slapper her ass and ran away. In another a man chases a woman across the street asking her out, while refusing to believe her answer that she has a boyfriend. Apparently there's these sorts of sites for many cities.
Admittedly my first feeling was a strange relief. Apparently I'm not the only man who's had urges, lots of men have had more extreme ones and acted on them. Previously I thought there was something wrong with myself. Secondly before viewing this site, I never really saw things from the woman's point of view, I realized. One story reflects something I came close to doing many times. It goes down like this
he kept looking me over and I just knew he was going to say something.(...)
Him: You have beautiful eyes.
I turn my head slowly and look him in the face.
Him: Your eyes? (he gestures to his own) They’re beautiful.
Me: (slowly and forcefully) “I don’t care what the fuck you think. I don’t need your fucking compliments. So shut the fuck up.”
He is absolutely astounded. “Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?”
Me: Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me at ALL?
Him: We’re on the subway together–
Me: That doesn’t give you the fucking right to talk to me.
Him: You don’t have the right to talk to me like that. Maybe next time I’ll say something derogatory. How bout that?
Me: Leave me the fuck alone.
Him: You need to watch the way you talk to me.
Me: Then why don’t you quit talking to ME?
Him: No wonder New York is so shitty…
Me: Yeah, because it’s got you in it.
Him: Oh, me? You’re nothing but a white racist.
Me: I’m not racist. I’m not even white. And you’re a sexist.
Him: Not white, oh, what are you then, orange?
Me: Now you’re going to tell me what race I am? [I should have said, "Oh, we got an ethnographer here!"]
At this point it just turns into a stupid repetition of the first few exchanges. I finally just ignore him and go back to my book. He is still reveling from my decline of his compliment and the demand for privacy and peace… Finally, after a few minutes…
Him: (Shaking head) Well I will say this, you got spunk.
Me: Shhh. (keeps reading) [Should have said: If you ever have a daughter I hope "spunk" is enough to keep her from getting raped.]
Him: Did you hear me?
Nothing else is said, but he keeps making these mock astounded gestures and huffy noises.
(...)
If I was a man he wouldn’t have said a word to me. If there was true “equality” I would be granted the same silence and respect as a man. I will NEVER take my silence, broken by clumsy implications of my alleged “beauty,” as a compliment. Never.
I think this story in particular made me think about what I don't understand about seeing things from the woman's perspective. It's easy to look at the random showboating pervert or the ass-slapper and be horrified. This guy in this story though could have been me. It could have been, a few years ago, one of my own desperate attempts to strike up a conversation. Why did she react so strongly? What's so bad about receiving a compliment? Why was she so offended, and hurt?
I mean think about it- men get aroused much more often than women. So chances are, in 100% of these situations, it's the man who's aroused by the woman, the woman is not aroused by the man. So she gains nothing from the situation.
Now I'm imposing on her time. She's reading a book, or thinking, or resting, and here I am trying to "get to know her" or "pay a compliment", but without a valid pretext my words are transparently dishonest. I am really saying "I want to fuck you" and of course she knows it. That is very rude in itself. But maybe she's afraid that I won't stop pestering her, or will slap or pinch her, or worse. For me, it's always a choice of whether to start and how far to go. For the woman, it's always dependent on how far the man will go.
Now think of the numbers. Attractive young women are a small percentage of the population. Straight men are almost half. So this kind of thing might happen to her a lot- all the time even. To her, it's a constant reminder of how straight men see her by her body and looks only, not her mind. So it reminds her of a struggle she always has to fight to be taken seriously as a person.
I mean, she knows that almost every straight man she encounters is probably aroused by her to some degree. If these men, mostly strangers, don't control themselves, she will always be objectified, and whether they harass her or worse, try to hurt her is out of her control. So there's an element of fear. And apparently, a lot of men don't control themselves.
Then I thought of living like this day in and day out, constantly dealing with this kind of thing, throughout all of adult life thus far and in all facets of life, and the deep impact it must have on some women. Then I started to realize that if I were in that situation, I might be really offended and insulted, to the core level, by something as seemingly innocuous as what went on in the above story. I could easily have reacted in the same way. Had I been born a different gender, the narrator could have been me too.
There are of course more normal channels for meeting the opposite sex. I am dating someone now, one that I met at a friend's party. The right channels are just more available to some than others. My friend was kind enough to play a bit of match maker. Nonetheless, I have gained a much better understanding of sexual harassment over the past couple days, how far it extends, and a more firm grasp of why it is more extensive and harmful than it seemed to me at first. I will never think about hitting on women on the subway the same way again.