In the twilight of evening, we had just met up with our brand new real estate agent who wanted to show us some "properties". In an effort to set the scene here, it was getting dark, I was tired, and we were new to the area. Anyhow, I lost the agent at a stop light, but when the light turn green, I sped up just a little and thought we had caught up with the agent. So anyhow, I am following the agent for a bit, when she starts ducking into side streets rather aggressively and then rather inexplicably drives into a vacant lot. In the lady's defense, my car was heavily tinted (we were living in Arizona, and dang it, everyone has their windows tinted) and my wife was in the back seat with our infant daughter. You have probably guessed what was happening by now, but just in case you are as slow as I was on that day, I had not been following my agent. A very angry Hispanic woman jumped out of her car and started yelling at me. "What do YOU want?!" "Why are YOU following ME?!"
I rolled down my window and told her quite calmly, that I was sorry and had mistaken her car for our real estate agent's car. I turned to get my cell phone, but as I looked back, the woman was still sitting there with a "puzzled/angry/scared as hell" look on her face. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that I had really freaked out this woman. She was mumbling under her breath, and kept looking into the car. At this moment, I was feeling really guilty, because I had honestly meant this woman no harm. It had been an honest mistake.
This woman was terrified, and I felt an obligation to assure her that her fear was born of an honest mistake. I rolled down our back window and told my wife to say something to her (I figured the scary man in the front wasn't going to be able to accomplish this regardless of my good intentions). So, as my wife is arguing with me, the lady notices the voice and decides after some hesitation to take a quick look in the back of my car. There is my wife next to our infant daughter telling me that she didn't have the agent's number either....
The woman convulsed as she ramped down from whatever level of fear that I had inadvertently stirred up inside her. She suddenly realized that someone who was going to hurt her probably wouldn't be travelling around with a wife and infant in the backseat. She looked as if she was going to cry, and suddenly looked confused/surprised/embarrassed at this entire scene. I couldn't think of any way to apologize any more profusely than I had, but I tried again. She waved her hand at me, a dismissive gesture, and walked over to her car. As we left, I noted in our rear view mirror, her sitting in her front seat, legs out the door, crying.
That happened ten years ago, and I still feel awful about it. At the time, I remember thinking (please forgive me) "too much television in that one". Ignorance by the truck load in me, I suppose.
Anyhow, thank you for giving me a glimpse as to why this poor lady was so terrified. I honestly had no idea.
With that stated, if you are getting aggressive attention in a public place, absolutely challenge the pig, and more importantly, challenge the people pretending it isn't happening right next to you.
A few years ago I was jogging on this back road in Snoqualmie, WA called the Millpond road. The road is exactly that. A pond and some woods and a Mill. It runs for about a half mile from 202 to a bridge crossing the river and some neighborhoods. I had jogged it plenty of times before and didnt think anything of it. When you grow up in a small town, you tend to just feel safe, but today, as I jogged around a curve in the road, I saw a construction truck sitting on the side of the road with two guys in it. I ignored them as I went past, but I caught their leers and felt uncomfortable. I was a good distance from 202 and still a good way from the bridge. I rounded another curve and looked at my cell phone. It had no service. I heard the truck start and coming up behind me. It passed me slowly and disappeared around a bend. I breathed a sigh of relief...but then I heard it coming back. 'Oh, what the hell?" I thought as it passed me again, this time going faster. I began to look around for an escape route if I needed one. On one side of me was a swamp with woods. On the other side of me was the pond. I decided that I was a good enough swimmer to swim it if I had to. I heard the truck come back again. This time I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. It roared past me this time it what was obviously meant to be a threatening way. I was kicking myself for jogging alone. But I kept trotting along. What else could I do? There's a little clearing right before the pond ends and the woods begin where fishermen sometimes hang out. I was praying there'd be someone there, but of course, there wasn't. I stopped there anyway. I wasn't sure whether to go on and cut myself off from the water escape route or keep going and try to sprint for the bridge. I considered hiding. I heard the truck coming back again. I stepped behind a tree, feeling stupid for hiding, but it was better than nothing. The truck shot past the clearing and squealed to a halt. It slowly backed up. I stepped out and took out my cell phone. No coverage, but they didnt know that. I put it to my ear and hoped it looked like I was talking to someone. I whirled around and stared right at them as they came into view. I tried to look tough. They stared at me and then started laughing. I flipped my hand open in a gesture that meant like: 'What do you want?" I was livid all of the sudden. They laughed again and took off. I didn't hesitate. I started running faster than I've ever run before in the opposite direction towards the bridge, and I didn't stop until I was across it and in a neighborhood. I was shaking and furious and I cried all the way home. The next day I got in my truck and drove out to the road around the same time of day. I had some idea of confronting the two pieces of human trash if they showed up. But they didn't. Which is just as well. I didn't think of reporting it to the police, but I probably should have.
I hate living in a world where I have to be afraid to walk or jog alone. I can't drive down that road without shuddering and it makes me feel so helpless and angry that two stupid men could make me feel threatened and there wasn't anything I could do about it. Even if they were just kidding around...thats no way to joke! But if it wasn't a joke, it may have been the cell phone that saved me. I now carry pepper spray and stick to residential streets.
Be careful, girls, whether its the city, the country or suburbia...it doesn't seem to matter. I was really lucky. And now Im much smarter.
Hi, I'd like to submit an incident of street harassment which happened to me and my roommate today in Seattle. Unfortunately I forgot to snap a picture with my phone, but next time I'll be ready. Here's the story:
My roommate and I visited Pike Place Market in Seattle today to pick up a couple bottles from a great wine shop nearby. After we made our purchase, we started walking back up the hill to our car. As we trudged up Virginia St. towards 1st Ave, we passed a group of five men about halfway up the block. I was immediately wary since there weren't too many other people around, but as we approached they didn't seem to pay us any mind. However, my relief was short-lived, since as soon as we got past them all five of the men stopped whatever it was they were doing and followed us up the hill whistling and shouting lewd come-ons at us. The situation deteriorated further when we got to the top of the hill and the light changed, leaving us to stand on this corner for the next minute or so while we had to wait for the traffic to subside before we could cross. The entire group of guys stood 4 feet behind us in a group, continuing to holler and whistle at us in an endless chorus of "Hey Mami!" "Sexy ladies!" "You want a Mexican tonight, hot chica?!" etc. Their volume only continued to increase as we ignored them, until it got to the point where I literally couldn't hear my friend speaking anymore, and I turned around and said "Can you PLEASE STOP TALKING TO US!" I wish I had a better ending to this story, but unfortunately they just continued to harass us until the light changed and we crossed the street. It's pretty pathetic that these guys waited until our backs were turned to say anything to us, but I guess it's only pathetic men who do this kind of thing.
I've spent the entire afternoon being livid that I can't walk around my frigging city without being subjected to this, and I wanted to share my story. I wish those assholes would have had some respect and listened to me (and I also wish that I had remembered to snap a photo of them with my phone!) but I also feel proud that I said stood up for us (since clearly no one else who witnessed this seemed to think they should). My friend thought I should have just ignored them, but I told her that being silent won't ever help to change anything. I hope anyone who reads this will remember my story and hollaback the next time something like this happens to them. Even if they don't listen to you, it feels much better to walk away knowing that you're not powerless and you don't have to take anyone's crap.
I was -- uh, I believe the legal term is assaulted -- Thursday morning on the platform at Union Station.
Don't know if you were on the train. Lately I've been sitting in cars farther back -- they're less crowded, quieter, it's easier to get off, etc. So I haven't seen you in a few weeks.
It was a military guy in Army fatigues. White guy, light brown, blondish hair, not crewcut, normal cut, kind of stocky build. I've seen him get on before, I believe at your stop, but I'm not sure. Either BWI or Odenton, I think, or maybe Halethorpe; I don't know. I don't remember. Anyway, since there aren't that many of them, as you know, one tends to notice them. I suppose they go to the Pentagon.
I had gotten off my car, way at the back of the pack, and started walking forward. I had passed him, way on the other side of the platform -- in other words, nowhere near each other -- way at the back. You know how most people don't like walking on the yellow tread-strip near the edge, so that tends to be the fast lane, so to speak. As I was weaving my way forward, I ended up on the yellow tread, where I don't mind walking (it's actually easier on my foot).
As I'm walking along, suddenly, just when a pillar is to the left of me and the edge of the platform on the right, I feel a body slam. And I do mean body slam. This wasn't a bump. It was a shove. It rocked my body out toward the edge -- thank god there was a train there and thank god I hadn't been standing still -- since I was moving forward, the force of his slam was less than if I had been stationary, in which case I believe he would've knocked me over.
There was no chance this was 1) an accident or 2) he didn't feel it. When it happened, I looked immediately to my left to see him pounding by and I said, "Excuse me!" He ignored me and kept walking. I said again, "Excuse me!" Again no response. So I said, "You asshole."
He stopped dead: "What did you say?"
I said, "You just shoved me. When two people bump into each other, it's polite to say 'excuse me.' I said it; you didn't. And it was clearly your fault."
He comes over, puts his hand on my back -- in what I at first, for a milli-second, thought was a conciliatory gesture, as if he couldn't hear me and was trying to lean in to do so. He never apologized, never acknowledged what he had done, and -- get this -- started pushing me. I mean pushing. It wasn't a conciliatory gesture, he was actually pushing me as we walked.
So I immediately ended my own solicitous explanation to him and stopped and said, "Get your hands off me! Don't touch me!"
Of course everyone around us witnessed the whole thing and heard everything, but nobody stopped.
Then I just kept walking, not looking at him, figuring it was over and he would leave me alone. But he came back over to me (!!!!!!!), didn't touch me, but started complaining to me again -- honestly, I have absolutely no recollection of what he said, I just know his demeanor was threatening, and never did he acknowledge what he had done. So one last time, without looking at him, without breaking stride, I repeated what I had said before about his behavior. He said something else, and I said again, "Asshole."
He hissed in my ear: "That's the second time."
Without a glance, I said, "Third time, I believe," and just kept walking. I have no idea if he went off towards the Metro or stood there or followed me for a while or what. I was shaking, absolutely shaking. I knew we were surrounded by people, plus there were cops everywhere, so I mean what was he gonna do? Clock me?
He probably beat the shit out of somebody else later in the day. Or got into trouble at work, or took it out on someone.
But he clearly targeted me, since he came up from behind, and I repeat that it wasn't a bump, it was a shove. An absolute shove.
I'm going to tell the conductors when I get on the train on Thursday, and describe him to them. And I absolutely will not get off the train anymore until everyone else has gotten off. I will be the last person in the crowd. I don't want anyone coming up behind me ever again, especially not him, as I'm sure to see him on future trains.
If this guy gets on at your station, maybe you've seen him. The whole thing was totally bizarre and scary.
If you haven't checked it out already, Racialicious is a terrific blog that talks about intersections of race and pop culture and today they've got a great post up about one woman's experiences with street harassment.
Physical and Verbal Harassment on Capitol Hill—my neighborhood.
05/02/07 Broadway and Denny, directly in front of the Post Office door. 20ish, dirty blonde dreads, scabby guy jumped in front of me and blocked my way causing me to run into him as I tried to enter the post office. I told him to move and he called me a Fucking Bitch and said that I’d run into him. I told him to leave and he said that he’d been here for three years and wasn’t leaving. I entered the post office. Later I walked up the street by Hollywood video. He was waiting for me up there and continued to harass me calling me a stupid bitch. I told him I would call the cops if he didn’t leave and he said, “Go ahead and call the cops. They aren’t going to help YOU anyway.”
This may be true since I wrote an article about corrupt Chicago Police in 2001. I interviewed a mother whose son had been shot by the Police. The Police haven’t helped me since then even when I reported being raped. I have to wonder why this stranger would say that though.
05/01/07 in QFC Harvard Market, a small dark-haired late 30ish guy rammed me in the leg, not once, but twice as we were standing in line at checkout. This guy has followed and harassed me before. In October 07 in the Henry Library (where he took some photos of me) and at the Bagel Bakery on 15th Ave E, Winter 07.
On the streets I’ve experienced quite a bit of verbal harassment before in Queen Anne, downtown and on the hill, but suddenly it has escalated to physical harassment. There have been other recent instances of being pushed or bumped into or smacked with bags, etc.
I live and work on Capitol Hill. I like living in a diverse, urban neighborhood and I expect the odd thing to happen now and then. For me however, it’s every single day. After multiple break-ins and a rape at my former apartment at 221 11th Ave E. I moved a little farther up the hill. Support groups told me to alert all my neighbors about the stalking. I swallowed my pride and wrote the following letter. ____________________________________________________ At the risk of sounding loco, ah well, here goes:
When I Google my name, I usually find articles and reviews I’ve written, some residual items from when I was in Peace Corps and schools I’ve worked for as an ESL Teacher. Last month, I found my name on the page of an Adult web site. It was there for about a week and then suddenly removed. The link remains on Google; my name is no longer on the page. (The link has since been removed from Google.)
I suspect there is some very negative propaganda going around about me as I have had the strangest reactions from absolute strangers since late summer. I have been spit at four times on Broadway near my school; called terrible names on the street; treated very rudely in stores where I used to be welcome and have had one death threat. (I have since had more.) I also had harassment, stalking and multiple break-ins at my old apartment building, and finally a sexual assault during a break-in before I left that building.
I’m former Tenant’s Union and in 2004 I had to defend myself against an unscrupulous Property Management Company. This entailed tracking down the owner of the property and pleading my case. There were several other very unhappy tenants in the building, but I was the only one who came forward. I was released from my lease after documenting a substantial amount of abuse and harassment that I endured during my 40 days in the property on Capitol Hill. The Property Management Company and onsite Manager later lost the account, which included several large buildings in the Capitol Hill area. Since my departure from that building I have been bullied out of three other buildings and experienced harassment at job after job, all beginning from the very first week. (In retrospect, some harassment started before this and I can list a few articles I had written that may have been the catalyst.)
The worst of the harassment has been recent and I listed some of the details above. I can only surmise that there must be some manufactured -- photo-shopped images, blogs, web pages or something depicting me as some kind of nazi pervert or something equally heinous because at work some students have approached me with very strange questions about Hitler and Germany. (I’m from a mixed race family and I choose to work and live among the most diverse population in Seattle.)
Whatever is out there, is manufactured. The case has been turned over to a Detective that handles Sexual Assault and stalking. Please come forward if you have any evidence. Anonymous tips are also welcome. (At this point the police, well, they don’t seem to give a damn about my rights as a citizen.)
Seana Sperling P.O. Box 23302 Seattle, WA 98102 _______________________________________________________ Stalking by proxy is a tool used by wealthy Vengeance Stalkers. It is difficult to prove and the initiator doesn’t appear to be involved. We all have enemies and this could happen to anybody.
Wednesday, April 25th at about 4:15pm I was walking through campus home from work. I turned the corner by the bookstore and was walking on the sidewalk between the bookstore and the MU parking lot. I noticed 3 guys were hanging out farther down on the sidewalk kind of by the quad. I saw them look me up and down as soon as I turned the corner. I felt kind of weird, but just switched sides of the sidewalk to walk past them. At this point I noticed that there was no one else around and thought that was strange. Although I felt weird, I figured I was fine because I was on campus.
After I moved to the opposite side of the sidewalk, they intentionally moved over to that side too to block off my path. As I started to approach where they were, they formed a sort of half circle around me and one guy said “Hey, you about to go up and be a secretary?” Then another guy said “Hey, that’s right, she’s about to be a movie star.”
Now I was almost to them and tried to walk around them, but one of the guys moved to get in my way. I just looked at the ground, then up at him and tried to walk around him again and he said “Hey now.” I looked back at the ground and said “I gotta go.”
As I was walking away…briskly…one of them said “She looks like that Jennifer Love girl. She’s fine.”
After this, farther into campus, I ran into a friend and told her what had just happened and she said “Congradulations!” like it was something I accomplished or something good had just happened to me.
I've blogged about this a few times before and yet again we see the almost never ending well of sexist projection encountered in the everyday. This isn't the stereotypical street harassment we're talking about here but it's related in the same sense in that street harassment (like the offensive t-shirt) stem from stereotypical gender roles which, in combination with a misogynist alcohol culture, perpetuates a rape culture which we see trying to exert itself in increasingly blatant and unabashed ways. - L
Hollaback Pacific Northwest is a collaborative project between Luke Lee and November Papaleo. This website is inspired by the original Hollaback which was started in New York City. Papaleo went to New York and Washington D.C. during a course offered by Oregon State University's Women Studies program. Six students spent two weeks participating in the daily operations of non-profit agencies that benefited and supported women and children. After meeting the staff from "The White House Project," Hollaback NYC, Congresswoman Darlene Hooley, and countless others the students were inspired (and encouraged) to participate in activist projects when they returned to Oregon. HollabackPNW became one of those activities. After proposing a merger between Hollaback Seattle and Hollaback PNW the site began to move beyond Portland and Seattle, including Idaho, Oregon, and Washington in its quest to make the streets safer. It has moved into malls, on campuses, in restaurants ; it has moved pass sexual harassment to include racism, sexism, and classism. Holla has become a site where all stories are welcome and valued. Holla's primary goal is to call out street harassers, critique sexually aggressive/suggestive/sexist clothing, and to reduce sexual terrorism by providing an anonymous outlet to share stories and tales of support. If you would like to donate to the cause or to the OSU program which inspired it all, send us an experience, or voice your support please email us at email@example.com Thank you for Hollar-ing with us, November and Luke
Thomas has kept a dark and disturbing secret for 25 years. An overpowering obsession has nearly destroyed his life. His compulsion led to him being convicted of felonies and serving a total of 15 years behind bars. Thomas is an exhibitionist who says he has exposed himself to over 50,000 women. His guilt and shame caused him to sever ties with his friends and family, and he is finally ready to reveal his truth. Something agitates Thomas as he shares his story. Find out what. Then, join Dr. Phil and Thomas in the green room as Thomas reveals his past to the woman he says he wants to marry. How does she react to hearing the news? Don't miss the strong warning Dr. Phil has for her.
I'm not a big Dr. Phil fan for too many reasons to post here, but this is one episode I wish i'd seen. Apparantly, this guy has admitted to "flashing" over 50,000 women (in 25 year, that's about 5 a day) in his life and he got some YouTube attention because he tries to take some jabs at Dr. Phil and then walks off the show.
Please. I don't even give this turd any credit for coming on the show and being "honest" with his "problem" because, let's face it, he's not being honest. When you refer to what he's doing as "exhibitionism" and hide behind that sorta gender-neutralish term, then that's almost like calling domestic violence "anger issues." Those are 50,000+ women he's exposed himself to so this has very little to do with him getting his thrills on being some sort of an equal-opportunity exhibitionist. The only exhibiting he does is in showing his belief system about women and gender when he does street/sexually harass women. When a man exposes his genitals to young girls on a school yard, nobody would ever call that an "exhibitionist" act. Why suddenly remove the inherently sexist/stereotypical gender-reinforced aspects of it when it's women involved? - Luke
I was on my way home from the grocery store in Portland Oregon one evening, when I sensed I was being followed. I would whip around every now and then, but could see no one. Still I couldn't shake that eerie feeling. The rain had ceased momentarily so my umbrella was tucked under one arm. I also had a huge fountain soda in one hand and a magazine. My hands were full, but I was one block from my house, so I wasn't too scared.
As I rounded the corner a man approached me from behind. He asked if I knew what time it was. I said no and kept walking. He stayed within two feet of me, and moved to block my path and then in a really creepy voice he asked are you sure? That's when I noticed his arm moving. I looked down and saw that his penis was out of his pants and he was jacking off. I flipped out. My first reaction was to throw my 44 oz soda at him. the lid came off and drenched him in pepsi but he kept going! I yelled at him and called him a nasty mother fucker, but to no avail. I then lunged at him with my umbrella, and he started to run. I chased him down the street but I lost him.
Since it was the THIRD time this has happened to me (although it was the first time I was alone) I was more angry than anything. I ran to my apartment, and grabbed a blunt object from the kitchen (ok, it was an ice cream scooper, but I was in a blind rage). I ran back out to find him. I've never felt so angry. This pervert represented every time I've been put into a situation where a man degraded, scared, stalked, or in any other way harmed me. I didn't get far from my door. Right out in front of my building I noticed a parked car with a figure slouched down in the drivers seat. I ran up to the window. It was him! I took the ice cream scooper and tried to smash his window with it. All that did of course was brake the plastic section off the stainless steel based scooper, and the guy took off. I learned two things from this incident. Get a license plate number no matter how out of it you are, and keep a bat by the door. I'm not taking this shit any more. - via email
This happened a while back, but I just found your awesome site & had a pretty good story to share.
I live in Seattle, and I used to work in Union Square downtown. Getting hollered at by some disgusting piece of shit was a daily occurrance and definately nothing new, but typically I wouldn't respond to anyone when these things would happen. Usually I'd just ignore them & go about my business.
On this particular day, I was just getting off of a hard day at work. I was tired, grumpy, and (this may be TMI, but it's an important part of the story) I reeeeeally had to fart. I know, gross. But everybody farts, so don't look at me like that.
Obviously I didn't want to pass gas in front of the swanky clientele we had at work, so I was doing my best to wait until I got to a restroom. As I was crossing the street, there was a man who was walking to the corner at the same time. He looked like a normal guy, obviously out for a jog judging by the hotpants he was rockin'. He glanced at me, and then it looked like he was going to go straight so our paths would intersect, but then he did a double-take, gave me this incredibly creepy look, and as I approached the corner he decided to walk along side me. Well, I wanted no part of this.. I knew what was coming. I did my best to try & scoot along in front of him while holding in my foul gas that was building up fast.. this one was going to be monumental, and all I could think of was getting to a place where I can let it go finally. I was just about a foot ahead of him when we were stopping at the next traffic light, and that's when it happens:
"You've got a beautiful ass!"
I knew he was going to say something, but I had no idea it would be so.. to-the-point.
I thought to myself, "This asshole's got some nerve.. I've had a crappy day, I'm exhausted, and I have to fart so bad it's giving me a stomach-ache.."
So instead of yelling at him, instead of just letting it go, I knew what I had to do to get him away from me as quickly & efficiently as possible. I had to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. And that's exactly what I did.
Right in front of him, practically in his face I let it go, and it felt damn good. Immediately after, I turned around to him & said, "Still think it's beautiful??" This is the part where I'd explain the look on his face, but there really are no words that can paint a good picture. It was priceless. Shock, disgust, and complete disbelief is the best I can do. I have never been so delighted with myself for farting in public. As the traffic signal changed, I couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off my face.
As soon as I got off at my bus stop, I told my boyfriend about what had just happened. After a good, long chuckle, he said to me, "See? I could never be with anyone else because no ohter girl that I know of would have the balls to do that."
I highly recommend this method to any lady who's sick of dealing with assholes who just can't contain themselves. It's the most effective way I've ever gotten a douchbag pervert off my ass.
Plain old harassment is something I've learned to deal with over the years, I've never felt there was any effective recourse. (Until I found this site!) But what drives me into a raging fury is when men make sexual remarks concerning my ethnic background or skin color. Recently, while shopping at a local supermarket, a man told me that he wanted "some of that brown sugar" as he passed me in the aisle. I've been told various times by various men that sex with me would be much more exciting because of my ethnic background, that they have fantasies about my "naked brown body" against theirs, that my "ghetto booty" really turns them on, etc. Excuse me? Women are sexualized for so many different reasons: hair color, breast size, intelligence. It's all disgusting. But I'm so tired of listening to this "jungle fever" crap because I happen to be a different color than them.
Walking home after dropping off some papers today... Didn't seem too excited to be walking out in the cold- you know the whole bit- cold December days in Corvallis... blah weather...Minding my own business I happen to look up and catch eyes with an approaching male. Nothing special and nothing wanted, I looked back down as I walked... though this irratated the male who had been checking me out while crossing from his own side of the MU quad to mine. Riding along on his longboard he decided to show me his disgust by flicking his cigeratte ashes in my face as he passed... I don't know if it was full on street harrassment... but it was just a very rude interaction between one person and the next. I didn't appreciate it and I was just walking trying to mind my own business...
On Sunday I was walking up Madison between 3rd & 4th Streets and this guy walking down the hill starts to cut me off and starts leering at me and saying, "Three American dollars! Three American dollars!" I'm a twentysomething Asian American woman, so the implication was pretty clear. I was SO stunned by how gross and rude that was that all I could think to say was, "F*** you!" He just laughed and kept walking down the hill. That is by far the most offensive, RACIST thing anyone has said to me.
Then today I was walking downtown on Pike Street talking on my cell phone (in English given that I don't speak any other languages) and some white guy starts talking to me in some random Asian language--I don't even know if it was real or fake Asianese--and making obscene and overtly sexual gestures like miming kissing, etc. I get really pissed when this bullshit happens (probably once a week at least), so I turned to him and said, "EXCUSE ME... I don't have a clue what you're saying, because I an AMERICAN -- I speak ENGLISH." Then he had the nerve to get pissed off and curse at me as if I was in the wrong!!
I will never understand how men think that it is OK to treat Asian women (or any women for that matter!!) this way!! I seriously want to buy a camera phone so I can start taking pictures of these jackasses.
Right now we're promoting Hollaback PNW heavily in the college/university/school circuit but if you would like a bunch of cards to have yourself/give out to your friends (I can send you about 5-10 at a time) then feel free to email me and i'll send them to you in the mail free of charge! Help us spread the word!
If you know the name Tom Leykis, you know the name of a sexist asshole. Leykis, the radio host who is disturbingly popular with young men, often has idiotic recurring bits on his show and one of the most awful ones is "Flash Friday" where men are encouraged to drive during the daytime (on a given Friday, of course) and/or have a sign on their vehicle that says "Flash Friday" or "Leykis 101." Female listeners/fans of the show are then encouraged by Mr. Leykis to flash whoever displays their Leykis fan membership. Today while driving on I5 South to work, I saw this guy in his truck with the sign prominently displayed in the rear. Sorry for the crappy cell-phone camera quality, but I can assure you that it does indeed say "Flash Friday." - Luke
So I Was Sitting In An Excercise Sport Science Class At OSU And Was Just Sitting There When This Kid Next To Me Decided To Pull Out His Cell Phone And Take A Picture Of This Girls Butt And Underwear That Was Exposed Because She Was Bending Over. I Can't Believe This Would Happen Right In Front Of Me And No One Said Anything While He Was Showing His Friend Next To Him What He JustDid....HORRIBLE!! - Via email
Hollaback Pacific Northwest is now up and running!
Send in your stories and pics of street harassment to hollabackpnw[at]gmail[dot]com and if you see an offensive sexist, homophobic t-shirt at the mall, on the street or on the web, send it on in as well!
Also, don't forget to check out some of the links on the sidebar which may answer some questions you may have about "Hollaback" as well as some other great blogs across the world.
Hollaback Pacific Northwest, in the tradition of Hollaback NYC, is currently under construction and will feature organizations from Washington (Hollaback Seattle), Oregon and Idaho so please stay tuned for our official launch date! If you or your organization would like to join us at HBPNW, feel free to email us at HollabackPNW@gmail.com