Thursday, October 10, 2013

Catcalled Into Submission: A Runner's Tale

It is my favorite weather. The sun is warm on my skin, but the air underneath has that hint of bite. The leaves haven't quite changed, but they're thinking about it, curling around the edges and rasping when the wind blows.

In the summer, running outside makes me feel like an ambling brick of melting cheese. The Midwest humidity instantly soaks my skin, even before I'm out of breath, and I fall out of breath quickly, pulling in the wet air in uncoordinated gulps.

But not in the fall. Maybe it's because I'm actually getting better at running, but I think it's mostly the weather. Today, I ran five miles, and they all felt smooth and graceful. I was running through the oldest parts of my city, remembering why I love it and imagining the history those streets had seen as my feet hit the tilting sidewalks. When I got to the riverbank, I felt invincible, and when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the windows of buildings, I saw myself as strong. This is why I run. This moment.

Running feet

Walking back to my house, deeply engrossed in the audiobook version of Doctor Sleep that has been keeping me company on these runs, I passed a man painting a fence on the sidewalk. For a moment, I was distracted from the book by thoughts about how nice it was to see the old fence (in front of what looked like an abandoned building) being renewed to a shine. He said something to me. I pulled my headphones off one ear, "What?" 

"You don't look like you need to exercise to me." 

How does one respond to that? I kept walking, but I was still within his view, and it felt weird to say nothing. I'm running my response through my head. What he said wasn't menacing. It might have even been a compliment, though what the hell does that even mean? If I look fit (which--let's be honest--I really don't, especially if "fit" means "thin"), wouldn't you expect me to be running? I rambled off a response, 

"Oh, I could still use a little exercise." Polite chuckle. 

"I'll work it off you." 

By then, I was four or five steps in front of where he was sitting on an overturned plastic bucket, hunched over the metal fence posts. I rolled my eyes, pulled my headphone back over my ear, and kept walking. But I didn't feel strong anymore. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked down the sidewalk. It felt like when you run through a spiderweb on a wooded path. You know it's not physically possible, but you can feel the web on you everywhere even after you pull it off, the stickiness making your skin crawl for several minutes. 

Spiderweb

Instinctively, I felt myself withdrawing, imagining myself smaller, trying to become invisible. 

As I was running the exchange through my head, kicking myself for not having some kind of witty retort, a group of men called to me from a porch. They were up hill from me, the brick wall of the porch and a steep incline between us. Again, I pulled my headphones off my ears, "Huh?" 

"Are you walking for cancer?" 

The words didn't even make sense in my head. "Sorry? What?" 

"For cancer? Is that why you're walking?" 

"No. For me." 

"Oh. I saw you when you headed that way earlier. Just wanted to tell you you're doing a great job." 

"Thanks." I kept walking. 

A great job at what? Walking? He didn't see me running because this part of the path had been both my warm-up and my cool down. 

The second man hadn't said anything insulting. Sure, it's weird to congratulate someone on walking on the sidewalk, but it's not necessarily sinister, but his words came so close behind the others that they still felt dirty. I felt dirty. 

And that, finally, is what I'm left wondering. What was that painter's aim? 

Did he know that he deflated me? Did he know that my walk home was a victory lap for someone who had strengthened a body that couldn't even run a mile in the recent past? Did he know that I was lost in my own thoughts, enjoying a book and the company of my own footsteps? Did he know that moments before I had been running along a smooth sidewalk, catching glimpses of myself in windows and feeling powerful and (dare I say it) even a little sexy?

And did he know that after his words (I'll work it off you), all I felt was a deep desire to fold inside myself, to vanish into thin air, to get his eyes off of me? 

Or did he not think about what his words meant to me at all?

And which is worse? 

Photos: Eva the Weaver, Yash Gupta 

7 comments:

  1. Hi Michelle, and thanks for this post. I don't usually comment, but this has been something that has really been bothering me. I live right next to Tower Grove Park, but I can't bring myself to walk or run because of the inevitability of catcalling. And my response has varied. I've ignored people, spoken to them politely and even called them out (once). It's just so infuriating that I feel tied to my apartment and cannot bring myself to walk alone--and I really can't afford the gym. Anyway, thank you again.

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  2. When I first moved to Orlando my apartment complex had a gym and I was doing good using it for a couple of days when another tenant (a man) started talking to me. I had my headphones on (for me, a clear sign that says "don't talk to me"), but I politely responded to his questions with short answers and repeatedly put my headphones back on to give him the hint that I was done talking. This was nearly 4 years ago now, so I don't remember what he said, but eventually I felt uncomfortable enough that I left, but was also afraid to go home because I was worried he would follow me. I never went back to the gym, but even after that he tried chatting me up at the mailbox, again, making me uncomfortable.


    These encounters made me so angry because I had a right to use that free gym, but I was intimidated from using it because some douche couldn't take a hint. We shouldn't have to use gyms like Curves (which is the only gym I have ever used long-term and saw results at) just to exercise with peace of mind.

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  3. Even though I've learned to do a pretty good job at identifying the real reasons folks catcall -- basically all of which boil down to some kind of deficiency on the part of the cat caller -- I still feel helpless and humiliated when I'm basically used as a sounding board for their douchebaggery.

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  4. I don't mind people talking to me (though I do think it's a little weird to try to talk to people who are actively exercising with headphones on). But I don't know it what world "I'll work it off you" could be conveyed as friendly. That's offensive and definitely sexual.

    In fact, part of my problem is that because I had just had that said to me, the next interaction felt inherently dirty to me even though it wasn't necessarily sexual. The sexual, violating experiences are so disturbing that it often tints all of our other interactions as well, putting us on guard and less likely to be open to legitimately friendly interactions, hurting a sense of community all around.

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  5. I don't mind people talking to me (though I do think it's a little weird to try to talk to people who are actively exercising with headphones on). But I don't know it what world "I'll work it off you" could be conveyed as friendly. That's offensive and definitely sexual.

    In fact, part of my problem is that because I had just had that said to me, the next interaction felt inherently dirty to me even though it wasn't necessarily sexual. The sexual, violating experiences are so disturbing that it often tints all of our other interactions as well, putting us on guard and less likely to be open to legitimately friendly interactions, hurting a sense of community all around.

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  6. Thank your writing this enlightening article. I'd like to comment from my seat as a Man who had never heard of street harassment until a year ago, which is when I started to actively engage in Social Media. First and speaking for myself, before hearing that this was an issue I always took clues from the woman, via her smiling first, body language, and the host of other clues that Men and Women give to each other. Also, this could after being at the same coffee shop a dozen times or more. Now, I won't elaborate or take to much space on my upbringing, background and values that I grew up with which taught me to treat all women with respect, that, along with social skills is "everything' when it comes to not offending or harassing women. I'll admit that many men don't have these skills and have no intention of getting them. Also, when you add in the construction / frat boy, dudes on the block group element, harassment goes up to an outta control and openly shameful level. So I really feel for what you all must be going thru. However, what continues to surprise me is that I haven't met a man who has even heard of this,(street harassment) and what folks here in "new media don't seem to understand is that along with it being a deep and "manly' tradition that has to be overcome (getting phone numbers, notches on the bedpost, etc.) there is a huge awareness issue with Men just not having a clue when it comes to street harassment. I know it seems like 'everyone' is aware but when you step outside of the few thousand that read this and follow others in social media that write about street harassment, to be 100% honest, it's just not "out there". In closing there needs to be more 'awareness" campaigns like the STWTS that's being done by Tatyana Fazlalizadeh . Again from where I sit, without seeing her work and articles like this, I wouldn't have known this was an issue, Thanks for your time and consideration.
    Michael W

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  7. I do think that awareness is an issue. (A friend of mine linked to this video of Kamau Bell talking to men and women on the streets of NYC about it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WH7b4QCPuXc) I do think a lot of men genuinely think that hitting on women is the type of behavior a "real man" is "supposed" to exhibit, and that's often a result of the horrible messages we send boys about masculinity. (We spend a lot of time talking about the messages little girls are getting, but if we don't spend an equal amount of time talking about the messages boys are getting, we're not really fixing the problems with our gender assumptions.)


    That said, I have a hard time believing we really need an awareness campaign to know that complete strangers do not want to be propositioned for sex while walking down the sidewalk. Maybe there's a need for some discussion of reading the social cues you talk about in your post, but many of the stories I've heard (and experienced myself) about street harassment aren't issues of misread cues; they're issues of an utter lack of respect for the woman receiving the advances as a human being.

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