What you lookin’ at?

This past Wednesday morning, still groggy from the forcible readjustment of my sleep schedule (alarm clocks are your friend), I was running to catch the 94 Wellesley bus when a complete stranger decided to humiliate me in public. Picture this, will you? This goon, sausage-like in build, had the leering, ruddy face of an alcoholic or a heavy drinker. He was stuffed into a black polo and a cheap leather coat, squinting in the early morning sunlight. All of a sudden he spotted me running for the bus and slowed his stroll to a cocky saunter. He then screamed at me from across the intersection: "Yeah, you run, baby! Lookin' fine."

I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. I felt sick when I realized there was a small crowd of people nearby, witnessing my humiliation from the bus stop. My legs started to slow down before I was even really conscious of what I was doing, and I turned to face my harasser in the middle of the intersection. The words that came to me in that moment (more expletive than eloquent) may not have been the strongest choice, but they got my message across loud and clear. And the look on his face when I told him what I thought of his "compliment" was well worth it. He was absolutely shocked; his face went slack with surprise. Satisfied, I rushed to the stop and got on the bus. When I got on, the driver smiled at me and fellow passengers actually applauded as I took my seat. I cannot tell you how gratifying that was. Later, when I recounted my brush with harassment on Facebook (naturally), I received overwhelming support from my friends and peers.

Corny as it sounds, I feel like I've learned a practical lesson. If you stand up for yourself rather than ignore harassment, you get results. Like me, many of you may have learned the hard way that silence, an averted gaze, and a harried gait does not deter potential harassers. In our often backwards mainstream culture, silence is implicit consent on the sexual stage. As women, we are taught to be passive. We are conditioned according to gender scripts that tell us we'll be labeled as unfeminine or too aggressive if we speak up. Too often when we do say something, we're told that we are being "touchy" or "overly emotional." We're told that women have no sense of humour about these things. But humour goes both ways. If we're not laughing, that's because it wasn't funny. It was hurtful.

Harassment is a lose-lose situation, be it in a professional setting or on the street. There is no benefit to keeping silent. I don't know what the convoluted logic behind choosing to verbally harass someone on the street could be, but I don't really care anymore. I am now certain that it can be defeated by simply telling people where to get off. Of course, this is heavily dependent on context. Much as I sometimes like to believe I can literally smash the patriarchy with my fists, going up against a bunch of bad dudes in a sketchy situation is different than speaking up at a public bus stop in broad daylight. It is also different than, say, going up against your boss. In that case, you would be advised to avoid my methods and go through an HR department or the like. It wasn't so long ago that sexual harassment was perfectly legal in every context (and of course, on the street, it still is).

And if it weren't for the tireless efforts of feminist icons like Anita Hill— the Rosa Parks of sexual harassment— it would be perfectly kosher in professional settings as well. They stood up, and so can you. Remember: the sisterhood is behind you – and as I learned, so are regular people who don't like to see women humiliated by sexual harassment. Stay safe and be smart, but stand up for yourselves, ladies!