STFU Catcallers

When I was 13 years old, I was tall enough and mature enough looking to look about 16-17 years old and I had gone with my family on vacation to my mother's home country (I will not say the country name in case of a stereotyper) in Asia. Over there, it was occasional to see a few white American men, but rare to see a white female (although I'm half Asian, I look white) I would get stared at walking down the super crowded streets with my family and at first I liked the attention, but then men ages 17 to around 50 (yes, middle-aged men!!) would "accidentally" brush up against me in inappropriate parts. That's when I started to hate the attention and walked with my arms folded.

But it got worse. We went to a small island off the coast to go swimming and I was wearing a bikini where the only thing really holding it up was the tie in the back. Well, we went swimming with whale sharks and there were plenty of other asian tourists around us, but the thing was that the people who brought us by boat to the whale sharks... were men. Older men in their late 40's. At one point when I was in the water with my back to the boat, I had gotten salt water in my eyes. I heard someone jump in the water when I knew my family was already in, but I couldn't see. Next thing I knew, the bikini top that I had carefully knotted as hard as I could three times came undone! I was struggling to see and keep my top from falling off! I had to get my mother to retie it and when I could see again, I looked up at the boat and saw one of the men dripping wet and he winked at me. The rest of the day I felt sick and angry at him for ruining my day.

As we were checking out of the hotel to leave the island, my mother and sister (who looks asian) had gone ahead, but I decided to stay and wait for my father who was returning the hotel key. It started pouring down raining and I ducked under an awning for shelter from it. I didn't know there was a group of 30 year old looking men sitting under there and when I turned around, they were all looking up and down my body. I felt discusted but couldn't move. The asked how old I was and I told them 13. One of them said I looked like I was 17. I smiled at them, said thanks, and walked as fast as far as I could get from them. This time I wasn't feeling sick or discusted, but scared.

When we went to another island and we went swimming, this man kept following us around and when my sister and I would pose for a photo, he would stand slightly away and take a photo, too. He kept staring at me and I kept telling my mother I would like to go back to the hotel, but she would say, "Just a few more pictures." He followed us around without her noticing until we decided to go back to the hotel.

I didn't go out walking down the streets again or go anywhere in public if I could help it. I hated the attention the men gave me as they would say "Hey beautiful", "Wow! You're beautiful!", "Are you American? You're so beautiful" And wink or brush against me. I was only 13 at the time and after those incidents before, I was scared to go out and get seperated from my family in the heavily crowded streets where I never seemed to go unoticed (espically since I was taller than the women and some of the men).

 A particularly unsettling occurrence happened on the subway train on my way to work one morning last summer. I was standing on the crowded train, attempting to lean against the side of the train, as it made a sharp turn and I lost my balance. I stumbled a little and regained my balance quickly. I was fine and didn't need any help, but unfortunately a man decided this was the opportunity to move in and force me into conversation. The train had cleared out after the first few stops, so I sat down in the seat closest to the door, keeping my eyes to the floor. A man with his bike, probably 15 or so years older than me, was holding onto the pole directly in front of me and wouldn't stop staring at me. I was clearly not interested in talking to anyone, but he asked me if I was okay and needed any help. I told him I was fine, leaving it at that, but he persisted and started talking again. I don't remember exactly what he was talking about, something to do with his bike, but then he started staring at my legs and telling me how "sexy" and "fine" they were. I didn't know what to say and felt grossed out, so ended up awkwardly laughing and ignoring him, even though he continued to stare at me the entire time I was still on the train. The worst part was that the train was delayed and was taking forever to get to the next stop, where I could escape. After he made the comment about my legs, I ignored him and waited for what seemed like forever, finally getting to my stop and running off the train. I never rode the train without headphones in again, even if I wasn't listening to music. 

Things like this still happen all the time when I go to NYC to visit my sister, yelling, staring, lewd comments, whistling, and other atrocities. It doesn't matter what area you are in, it happens everywhere. I am fed up with men thinking this kind of behavior is okay. Do they seriously think they are going to attract women in this way? It makes me sick. 

For the record: It makes me unhappy when people mention what they were wearing when talking about catcallers, because that just reinforces the idea, however subconsciously, that revealing clothes somehow mitigate harassment. However, I *will* talk about what I had on when this whole thing happened, because it's a sad, sad example of how wearing something revealing apparently makes you a free-for-all for sexual advances.

I spent part of my college career in Southern California, adapting to the local customs and adopting the local dress code, including the shorts. Teeny tiny itsy bitsy shorts. I never had much trouble with that. People don't usually bother me much because I'm pretty clear about wanting to be left alone, and for the most part that's enough.

However, this fateful Superbowl day, I was walking over to a friend's house wearing a pair of shorts I knew got me the wrong kind of attention, because I liked them, damnit. I wanted to wear them. They were cute and comfortable and looked great with my sweatshirt and I made it halfway to my friend's before a car passing me actually slowed down to check me out.

I started regretting it.

Still, I got there, we started watching the game, happy and content, until one of the guys there who had kind of been expressing interest in me but never been clear about it before started massaging my feet. Aaaand when I let him, started stroking my thighs. And commented on how great my ass looked in those shorts.

At that point I kicked him off, made some dumb excuse about being ticklish and stayed away from him. We watched the game, it was fine, it was fun, we hung out and eventually I headed back home, now in the dark, still in my sweatshirt and still in my shorts. Made it just about to the point where the guy in the car had made googley eyes at me when I noticed two guys (presumably from my college) coming towards me on the sidewalk. I had my earplugs in, but I could still hear them yelling, "Hey, you. YOU WITH THE SHORTS. Hey, wait up!"

Dear Cat Callers,

  I have two questions: why do you do what you do, and what do you hope to gain?

  Before I go any further, for those who have been lucky enough to never experience cat calling, it is essentially someone in their car, calling out to someone one the street. What they’re calling out is usually something slightly rude or sexually aggressive, along the lines of  “Hey Ma!” or “Ay yo shawty” hoping to get their attention and to talk with them further. Generally speaking it’s males calling out from their cars to attractive females they see walking on the street.

  Which brings me back to my questions, first of all, why do you it? You’re better off starting a conversation with someone at a bar or a coffee shop or just somewhere where you both are stationary. Clearly you’re driving somewhere and clearly the person you’re calling to has somewhere to be. Why do you think they would pause what they’re doing to see what you have to say? Especially when you get their attention so aggressively.

But more importantly, what do you hope to gain from this, Cat Callers? What is your best-case scenario? That the girls you’re calling to will come over and chat you up? That, maybe you’ll hit it off and go back to your place, hook up and fall in love?

Plus, how do you even know you’re right for each other? I once got cat called by a dude in a lime-green impala while I was wearing sweatpants and a shirt with The Flash logo on it. Right off the bat, did you think we had something in common? Maybe opposites attract, but in my experience an interest in comic books and tricked out cars don’t usually go hand in hand. But I could have been wrong, sorry I didn’t give you a chance. Also I was on my way to the library that day; if I did decide to stop and talk with you, do you honestly think we would have had anything other than a basic understanding of the English language in common?

  My advice to you cat callers, perhaps find a method with a higher success rate. Go somewhere you like going, like a car show for tricked out cars (that’s a thing right?)

Because what are the chances that you’re going to cat call to your soul mate?

  Sincerely

A lot of things that still sit in my heart to this day (I am 33 now)

- passing car calling me ass whore, tramp etc when I was morbidly obese

- gangs of young men saying an uninvited ''hello'' to me while smiling with satisfaction, usually when they find me alone at night in a bus station (this also scares me cause I dont know what else they can to)

- trunk men talking to me sexually

in most cases above I am dressed almost like workman, I show no flesh or body shape, but i am a beautiful woman,

Today, I was waiting outside high school for my mom to come pick me up. It takes a long time to get to my school, so I started walking on the main road. This 18-year-old looking guy with another guy yelled out "I'D FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU". I'm a freshman. All I was doing was waiting for my mom. I wanted to scream NO YOU WOULDNT BITCH but the car drove by really fast and I didn't have the time (plus I was right outside the school). Fuck these people. Who do they think they are, yelling shit at girls?