By JESSICA ARENDS
Photo credit: Jessica Arends
On a hot July evening after work, I walk west through the 38th Avenue Park along the bike path, cross the bridge and circle back on the scruffy, littered path next to the pump house where three men stand at the corner.
My safety instinct kicks in. I assess the situation: Their clothes are clean; they are laughing and seemingly at ease. I locate a few other people farther down the path in case I need help.
“Hey there, beautiful!” one man calls out. His eyes scan my body up and down. He makes a lewd gesture.
Heat flares up from my collar. His buddies laugh. Determined to show them I am not an object, I make eye contact.
“What’s your name?” he asks. Another body scan.
I hear myself say, “Be nice,” and continue walking.
“I’ll be real nice if you come over here.” More laughter.
I turn to join the path, sneaking a look back to be sure I am not being followed.
A recent Center on Gender Equity and Health national survey found that 81% of women and 43% of men experienced street harassment and/or assault. This includes verbal, nonverbal, sexual and/or physical unwanted attention, such as whistles, leers, grabs, flashing, stalking, blocking someone’s path and remarks that are sexual in nature — all of which is illegal according to Maryland criminal law (statute 3-803).
Eager to know more about these incidents in our community, I posted a call for street harassment stories on the HOPE (Hyattsville Organization for a Positive Environment) listserv and received four responses from female residents, all desiring to remain anonymous. They shared stories of harassment from men walking by, passing in cars, working in neighbors’ yards, and visiting friends or relatives of neighbors.
Two of the women avoid jogging or walking in certain areas, including downtown by the courthouse, mechanic shops or construction sites, and in the Arts District, due to repeated harassment. One woman identifies as gay, which, she said, makes the attention from men feel especially unwelcome. Two were followed by men after trying to ignore them. Another said she is harassed about twice a week and is sometimes afraid to leave her house.
Hyattsville resident AJ McCormick, who volunteers with the local chapter of Chalk Back, an international organization committed to ending street harassment, said they receive about 100 stories of public harassment a month from victims in the DMV area.
Volunteers then write what was said at the location of the incident with sidewalk chalk, take a photo and post it on Instagram.
“When I am chalking people will stop and tell me ‘You can’t write that, there are children around here.’ If that is the case, then maybe people shouldn’t be speaking it,” said McCormick. “You can’t ignore it when it is written on the sidewalk.”
According to McCormick, victims who share their stories gain agency around a situation they had no control over, as they can decide what words will be written and broadcast over social media.
To learn more about prevention, I contacted local organizations that teach youth about healthy relationships, respect and empowerment, including DeMatha Catholic High School, Men’s Challenge Initiative of Prince George’s County, Becoming a Man youth program in D.C., University of Maryland’s Health Center and several faculty at the Harriet Tubman Department of Women’s Gender & Sexuality Studies at University of Maryland.
I made phone calls, emailed reminders, and chatted with front office personnel. After three weeks, I opened my inbox: crickets. Reminders sent. One reply: the coordinator of a men’s program directed me to their women’s program.
I pause: Is the assumption that this is primarily a women’s issue part of the problem? Whose responsibility is it to prevent street harassment?
“It takes a village,” said Michael Casamento, State D.A.R.E. Coordinator, who did respond to my interview inquiry. Casamento coordinates the social and emotional learning D.A.R.E. workshops in Maryland schools, including Hyattsville.
When D.A.R.E. volunteers helped a local school work with a group of boys who were cyberbullying, the boys had a chance to realize the damage they were doing.
“They thought they were being funny,” said Casamento. When asked how they would feel if someone bullied them, they felt sorry and apologized. “They realized they were not getting the reaction they wanted,” Casamento said.
According to Casamento, being aware of how one’s actions impact others can be a first step in preventing more serious forms of harassment later on in life.
During an online Street Harassment Prevention Workshop offered by the national organization Right to Be, Director of Training, Alberto Lorenzo, presented the five D’s which victims or bystanders can use to de-escalate harassment: Distract (drop something, ask for directions or the time); Delegate (ask an authority figure for help, ask the victim if they want the police called); Document (take a video and give it to the victim); Delay (ask: Can I sit with you? Can I help? What do you need?); and Direct (set a boundary, tell the perpetrator what they are doing is wrong). I was starting to feel more equipped, but how do you know which response is the most appropriate?
“Staying safe is the top priority,” said Lorenzo. “And trust your instincts. The more we practice the better we will get.”
According to Right to Be, 79% of victims of street harassment said it helped when someone intervened. So why doesn’t intervention happen more often?
“It takes courage to be the first person to speak up,” Lorenzo said. “My biggest hurdle is to convince you that in those small moments we can change this. We’re not trying to achieve perfection. What we want is progress.”
According to interviews in Passing by: Gender and Public Harassment, male perpetrators viewed their actions as flattering, trivial, or welcomed, which assumes women desire to have their attractiveness affirmed by heterosexual men — a power structure sustained through social and cultural institutions, according to the author. Perpetrators also often view street harassment as harmless fun, a way to alleviate boredom, or facilitate bonding among other men according to current research conducted by Rutgers University.
Lorenzo explained how we should focus on the behavior, not the person, as most people are good people. As a woman who is expected to endure harassment simply because of the shape of my body, it can be challenging to remember this. There are so many ways we are continually told we are less-than.
My anger began to soften and dissolve, watering tiny buds of understanding. People harass others because they want to feel more powerful. As a woman, I can relate to that desire.
The following weekend I had a chance to try out the five D’s as I took the train into New York City with my sister. Despite being on an uncrowded train, a man decided to invade my sister’s personal space by standing above her seat with his arms and legs widely extended. After several minutes, she managed to extract herself and join me at the other side of the car, a ring of terror around her eyes. Only then did I realize she had been texting me for help.
Okay, let’s see — distract, delegate, dismember … no, not dismember … direct!
“Excuse me,” I said, as I approached the man who was now sitting in my sister’s spot, my voice a calm tone cutting through the coursing adrenaline in my head. “I want you to know that you made her feel uncomfortable.”
His head lowered, and he mumbled something. I was standing above him. People were watching. I was emboldened. I repeated myself. He squirmed in his seat, eyes shifted around. Satisfied, I walked back to my seat.
I don’t know if my words will change his behavior, but I found a way to address the situation without expressing anger. When I walk among strangers now I feel more confident. I can choose something other than swallowing my fear and shame.
Back home in Hyattsville, I am flooded with friendliness on my morning run. “Way to get those steps in!” the postman shouts. I wave back. The male waste collector swings a trash barrel aside and apologizes even though I am in his way. “Good morning! Pardon me!” I say back. He smiles, gives me a little bow. We see each other. There is kindness here. And hope.
Jessica Arends is the arts, culture and lifestyle columnist for the Life & Times.
