around 6pm, man yells at me from behind as I’m waiting to cross the street, “Run bitch, before you lose your pussy or your purse” I ignore the situation as usual and cannot cross yet, another man waiting to cross looks more alarmed at what has happened but says/does nothing
We become young women who can get across campus in 16 minutes and that’s talking the longer route with slightly better lighting. You run the fastest time in the 4×400 meter, while we run relays in the dark just to make the last bus home. Avoid those overgrown bushes, short skirts, empty lots, broken streetlights, unattended drinks, questionable friends. The gauntlet of womanhood requires 2 decades of training. You never missed a track practice while we were sprinting to avoid that shadowy stranger up ahead, doubling back the other way when a car slows down, faster still when its driver whistles at us.
While you were emerging as the star quarterback, we were reminded daily to stay in top form. Keep those senses sharp. Don’t drink, especially not after dark. We walk home with determination and with speed, our phone battery at one percent becomes a stopwatch. We know our surroundings at all times. We memorize street names and license plates and how many drinks and how many steps and where the blue light phones are and incase something happens: the exact shade of red in the stitch on the swoosh of his tennis shoes, because if we can’t recall that, then maybe it just didn’t happen.
We know how to make weapons from fingernails and hair brushes and purse straps and house keys, but you are the top triathlete. We are conditioned from a young age to cover up, walk fast, head up. Vigilance. We know our opponent. often well. Smile back so we don’t make him mad, but prepared to fight back if we need to. If we can.
They say you, you are respected on and off the court, but to us real sportsmanship means we all share a cab so that no one ever walks alone on a Friday night. Being a team player looks like group text chats to let our friends know we all made it safe. Teamwork is playing a game in which one in four of us will be assaulted and what will matter is how we kept each other from drowning when all they talked about is your time in the 50 metre swim.
Oh fuck I’m having the worst experience on the bus some big bro white guy was spreading and i asked him to move he didn’t and I put the bottom of my foot against his leg (the part of his leg than was on my seat. I do this often with spreaders and they usually see what’s happening and move their leg), but he immediately grabbed my foot and started moving it. I screamed at him to not touch me and he started on a rant about how I’m doing a ‘feminist militant thing’ and starting shoving his phone camera in my face. I was ignoring him until he spread farther and farther and pushed out out of my seat and he kept saying ‘you touched me first’ and recording the whole thing. I’m not worried about the video, I was I the right, but I am trembling and feel like I’m going to start crying. Anyway just had to vent. I didn’t want to fight any more. I just want to get to work in one piece.
We are seeking some summer help around here! While we have no MAJOR campaigns planned this summer, we could use some help with blogging, social media, and doing Good Night out Audits.
If you are into any / all of the following:
Feminism, activism, live music, writing, grrl power, music festivals, DIY, urban planning, LGBTQ issues, femme issues, woman* issues, sexual assault, community building, poetry….
we should probably be friends.
If you need some summer volunteer hours, with a flexible schedule – this may work out for both of us!
Email your resume to [email protected]no comments
We stand in solidarity with Lucy DeCoutere, Linda Redgrave, and others who have bravely shared their stories. We stand with Kathryn Borel, Reva Seth, Zoe Kazan, and anyone else who has reported harassment or assault.
This trial offered highly visible examples of injustice, but we recognize that there are many stories going unheard. Stereotypes and snap judgements privilege more powerful voices over others. Many do not feel safe or supported accessing institutions that claim to offer justice, particularly when facing discrimination based on race, ethnicity, poverty, ableism, and/or gender identity and expression. Many have reason to distrust and fear the police, the law, and the courts. These stories are no less true than the few that recently made headlines.
We understand that narratives are influenced by trauma, time, and memory. Too often, people are asked to push their own needs aside and ignore abusive behaviour for the sake of harmony. Insisting on automatic, linear storytelling ignores the realities of lived experience, and further prioritizes the stories of people who have access to traditional power structures and institutions. We believe in your process, whatever that might look like for you.
We know you’re out there. You believe. You remember. You find kindred spirits. You build networks. You share stories and skills. You open doors. You encourage resistance, resilience and persistence. You’re building a better world, one person at a time.
Not everyone is a survivor. We acknowledge the lives that have been lost because of this violence.
You don’t have to share your story with us, and you don’t have to give us your reasons, but we’ll hold space for you to breathe. We see you. We hear you. We’re so glad you’re still here.
Link to .pdf
At the bar (the cambie) with a girlfriend. He comes and sits with us uninvited. Wont leave us alone eveb after polite hints. He strokes my friends hair and shoulder uninvited. Evantually goes away when a male friend shows up but when our male friend leaves he comes back. I tell him he cant touch people without permission. He says in my world maybe but not his. Try and talk to him about street harrasment, he says he regularly hits on random girls on the street. Refuses to acknoweldge there might be something wrong with that. Says I dont know how hard it is to be a a man on the street (because girls dont want to talk to him? Because “girls get sex easier than guys”?) I tell him straight up leave I dont want to talk to you. tries to get the bouncer to kick us out for being unfriendly.
A man keeps asking a women on the bus questions when she is obviously uncomfertable and is trying to listen to music. Asks her where she works, then the adress, then what time she gets off, if anyone picks her up, you see where this is going.
On the bus a man tries to talk to me, I engage a little bit but when I wont tell him where I’m going he gets aggresive. I put in my earphones but he keeps waving his hand infront of my face to get my attention. I hold my mace in my hand discretly or so I thought. He notices and calls me a fucking bitch. I feel guilty for being rude.