Women deal with street harassment
all the time. Usually it comes in the form of being stared at, or a comment
directed at our appearance. It’s irritating, but not usually worth responding.
There are times, however, when a response is necessary.
In the winter of 2017, I encountered
two instances of aggressive public sexual harassment. The first one happened on
the street as I was coming around a corner. A man was there asking for spare
change, and when he saw me he turned and said “Whoa, baby”, while looking me up
and down. Then he asked for money. I told him I didn’t have any and kept
walking. He started following me, continuing to ask for money but in a tone
that was sexually suggestive. I turned around, looked him in the eye, and said “I
have nothing for you.” He looked shocked and stopped talking, so I turned back
around to walk away. He called me a bitch and something else I didn’t hear clearly, but I didn’t care. He
wasn’t following or talking to me anymore, which was the goal.
The second instance happened a few
weeks later on an L platform. As I was waiting for the train, a man came up the
stairs onto the platform and said “Damn! She is fine! Look at that ass!” He was
so loud that the whole platform probably heard him. I didn’t
think he was talking about me,
though, because I wasn’t anywhere near him. But then he walked up to me and
started talking about my body, what it looked like, and what he’d like to do to
it. I told him to leave me alone, but every time I opened my mouth to speak, he
spoke louder in order to drown me out. So I stopped talking, turned to face
him, and looked him square in the eyes. I didn’t blink or flinch, just kept my
gaze locked with his. Eventually he got the point, called me a bitch, and
walked away. Later on, after we’d all gotten on the train, he caused problems
in another car. It was so bad that the conductor had to get off the train at
the next stop and walk down the platform to sort everything out. The
conductor had to physically remove him from the train, almost resulting in a
fist fight.
Both incidents were upsetting and
scary, and things could have gone much worse if I had handled them differently.
The men I encountered were predators, and predators feed on fear. I wasn’t
afraid of them, though. I was angry. Livid, actually. How dare they treat me
like a plaything? I am more than that, and I let them see it. I am also proud
because I didn’t let the anger take over and cloud my judgement, and instead I used
it to fuel the faith I have in my ability to protect myself. In these
instances, I didn’t have to do any more than stand tall and look them in the
eyes with no fear. I was willing to do more if I had to, and was standing
strong and ready, just in case. They saw this and considered me to be more
trouble than I was worth.
I know many women who would have
been afraid of these men, and they would have
let that fear show. Because of that, these kinds of situations
could go very poorly for them. It makes me mad, both that there are women who
don’t have the training I have, and also that they need it. I want the world to
be a better place, and there are things I can to do help make that happen. I have
been an assistant teacher at Thousand Waves Martial Arts and Self-Defense
Center for three of the six years I’ve been training there, and these two
incidents inspired me to expand that role. I am now a full martial arts
instructor, and also an assistant self-defense teacher.
I am strong. I am fierce. And,
because of that, I am safe. I strive to reach as many people I can, sharing my
experience, tools, and skills so that they, too, will be safe.
Tabitha Olson
1st degree Black Belt
Seido Karate
Thousand Waves Martial Arts and
Self-Defense Center
Facing Street Harassment
Women deal with street harassment all the time. Usually it comes in the form o
f being stared at, or a
comment directed at our appearance.
It
s
irritating, but not usually worth responding. There are times,
however, when a response is necessary.
In the winter of 2017, I encountered two instances of aggressive public sex
ual harassment. The first one
happened on the street as I was coming around a corner. A man was
th
ere asking for spare change, and
when he saw me
he
turned and said
Whoa, baby
while looking me up and down. Then he asked for
money. I told him I didn
t have any and kept walking. He started following me, continuing to
ask for
money but in a tone that was sexually suggestive. I turned around, l
ooked him in the eye, and said
I
have nothing for you.
He looked shocked and stopped talking, so I turned back around to
walk away.
He called me a bitch and something else I didn
t
hear clearly, but I didn
t care. He wasn
t following or
talking to me anymore, which was the goal.
The second instance happened a few weeks later on an
L
platform. As I was waiting for the train, a man
came up the stairs onto the platform and said
Damn! She is fine! Look at that ass!
He was so loud that
the whole platform probably heard him. I didn
t
think he was talking about me, though, because I wasn
t
anywhere near him. But then he walked up to me and started talking about
my body, what it looked like,
and what he
d like to do to it. I told him to leave me alone, but every t
ime I opened my mouth to speak,
he spoke louder in order to drown me out. So I stopped talking, tu
rned to face him, and looked him
square in the eyes. I didn
t blink or flinch, just kept my gaze locked with his. Eventually
he got the point,
called me a bitch, and walked away. Later on, after we
d all gotten on the train, he caused problems in
another car. It was so bad that the conductor had to get off the t
rain at the next stop and walk down the
platform to sort everything out. The conductor had to physicall
y remove him from the train, almost
resulting in a fist fight.
Both incidents were upsetting and scary
,
and things could have gone much worse if I had handled them
differently.
Th
e men I encountered were predators, and predators feed on fear. I wasn
t afraid of them
,
though. I was angry. Livid, actually. How dare they treat me like a pl
aything? I am more than that, and
I
let them see it. I am also proud because I didn
t let
th
e anger take over and cloud my judgement, and
instead used it to fuel the faith I have in my ability to protect my
self. In these instances, I didn
t have to
do any more than stand tall and look them in the eyes with no fear. I
was willing to do more if I had to
,
and was standing strong and ready, just in case. They saw this and considered
me to be more trouble
than I was worth.
I know many women who would have been afraid of these men, and they would have
let that fear show.
Because of that, these kinds of situations could go very poorly for them
. It makes me mad, both that
there are women who don
t have the training I have, and also that they need it. I want the
world to be a
better place, and there are things I can to do help make that happen. I h
ave been an assistant teacher at
Thousand Waves Martial Arts and Self-Defense Center for three of the six years I
ve been training there
,
and these two incidents inspired me to expand that role. I am now a ful
l martial arts instructor, and also
an assistant self-defense teacher.
I am strong. I am fierce. And, because of that, I am safe. I strive to reac
h as many people I can, sharing
my experience, tools, and skills so that they, too, will be safe. Facing Street Harassment
Women deal with street harassment all the time. Usually it comes in the form o
f being stared at, or a
comment directed at our appearance.
It
s
irritating, but not usually worth responding. There are times,
however, when a response is necessary.
In the winter of 2017, I encountered two instances of aggressive public sex
ual harassment. The first one
happened on the street as I was coming around a corner. A man was
th
ere asking for spare change, and
when he saw me
he
turned and said
Whoa, baby
while looking me up and down. Then he asked for
money. I told him I didn
t have any and kept walking. He started following me, continuing to
ask for
money but in a tone that was sexually suggestive. I turned around, l
ooked him in the eye, and said
I
have nothing for you.
He looked shocked and stopped talking, so I turned back around to
walk away.
He called me a bitch and something else I didn
t
hear clearly, but I didn
t care. He wasn
t following or
talking to me anymore, which was the goal.
The second instance happened a few weeks later on an
L
platform. As I was waiting for the train, a man
came up the stairs onto the platform and said
Damn! She is fine! Look at that ass!
He was so loud that
the whole platform probably heard him. I didn
t
think he was talking about me, though, because I wasn
t
anywhere near him. But then he walked up to me and started talking about
my body, what it looked like,
and what he
d like to do to it. I told him to leave me alone, but every t
ime I opened my mouth to speak,
he spoke louder in order to drown me out. So I stopped talking, tu
rned to face him, and looked him
square in the eyes. I didn
t blink or flinch, just kept my gaze locked with his. Eventually
he got the point,
called me a bitch, and walked away. Later on, after we
d all gotten on the train, he caused problems in
another car. It was so bad that the conductor had to get off the t
rain at the next stop and walk down the
platform to sort everything out. The conductor had to physicall
y remove him from the train, almost
resulting in a fist fight.
Both incidents were upsetting and scary
,
and things could have gone much worse if I had handled them
differently.
Th
e men I encounteFacing Street Harassment
Women deal with street harassment all the time. Usually it comes in the form o
f being stared at, or a
comment directed at our appearance.
It
s
irritating, but not usually worth responding. There are times,
however, when a response is necessary.
In the winter of 2017, I encountered two instances of aggressive public sex
ual harassment. The first one
happened on the street as I was coming around a corner. A man was
th
ere asking for spare change, and
when he saw me
he
turned and said
Whoa, baby
while looking me up and down. Then he asked for
money. I told him I didn
t have any and kept walking. He started following me, continuing to
ask for
money but in a tone that was sexually suggestive. I turned around, l
ooked him in the eye, and said
I
have nothing for you.
He looked shocked and stopped talking, so I turned back around to
walk away.
He called me a bitch and something else I didn
t
hear clearly, but I didn
t care. He wasn
t following or
talking to me anymore, which was the goal.
The second instance happened a few weeks later on an
L
platform. As I was waiting for the train, a man
came up the stairs onto the platform and said
Damn! She is fine! Look at that ass!
He was so loud that
the whole platform probably heard him. I didn
t
think he was talking about me, though, because I wasn
t
anywhere near him. But then he walked up to me and started talking about
my body, what it looked like,
and what he
d like to do to it. I told him to leave me alone, but every t
ime I opened my mouth to speak,
he spoke louder in order to drown me out. So I stopped talking, tu
rned to face him, and looked him
square in the eyes. I didn
t blink or flinch, just kept my gaze locked with his. Eventually
he got the point,
called me a bitch, and walked away. Later on, after we
d all gotten on the train, he caused problems in
another car. It was so bad that the conductor had to get off the t
rain at the next stop and walk down the
platform to sort everything out. The conductor had to physicall
y remove him from the train, almost
resulting in a fist fight.
Both incidents were upsetting and scary
,
and things could have gone much worse if I had handled them
differently.
Th
e men I encountered were predators, and predators feed on fear. I wasn
t afraid of them
,
though. I was angry. Livid, actually. How dare they treat me like a pl
aything? I am more than that, and
I
let them see it. I am also proud because I didn
t let
th
e anger take over and cloud my judgement, and
instead used it to fuel the faith I have in my ability to protect my
self. In these instances, I didn
t have to
do any more than stand tall and look them in the eyes with no fear. I
was willing to do more if I had to
,
and was standing strong and ready, just in case. They saw this and considered
me to be more trouble
than I was worth.
I know many women who would have been afraid of these men, and they would have
let that fear show.
Because of that, these kinds of situations could go very poorly for them
. It makes me mad, both that
there are women who don
t have the training I have, and also that they need it. I want the
world to be a
better place, and there are things I can to do help make that happen. I h
ave been an assistant teacher at
Thousand Waves Martial Arts and Self-Defense Center for three of the six years I
ve been training there
,
and these two incidents inspired me to expand that role. I am now a ful
l martial arts instructor, and also
an assistant self-defense teacher.
I am strong. I am fierce. And, because of that, I am safe. I strive to reac
h as many people I can, sharing
my experience, tools, and skills so that they, too, will be safe. red were predators, and predators feed on fear. I wasn
t afraid of them
,
though. I was angry. Livid, actually. How dare they treat me like a pl
aything? I am more than that, and
I
let them see it. I am also proud because I didn
t let
th
e anger take over and cloud my judgement, and
instead used it to fuel the faith I have in my ability to protect my
self. In these instances, I didn
t have to
do any more than stand tall and look them in the eyes with no fear. I
was willing to do more if I had to
,
and was standing strong and ready, just in case. They saw this and considered
me to be more trouble
than I was worth.
I know many women who would have been afraid of these men, and they would have
let that fear show.
Because of that, these kinds of situations could go very poorly for them
. It makes me mad, both that
there are women who don
t have the training I have, and also that they need it. I want the
world to be a
better place, and there are things I can to do help make that happen. I h
ave been an assistant teacher at
Thousand Waves Martial Arts and Self-Defense Center for three of the six years I
ve been training there
,
and these two incidents inspired me to expand that role. I am now a ful
l martial arts instructor, and also
an assistant self-defense teacher.
I am strong. I am fierce. And, because of that, I am safe. I strive to reac
h as many people I can, sharing
my experience, tools, and skills so that they, too, will be safe.
