My Broken Fiat
  • Blog
  • About / Contact Me
    • My 'Reversion'
    • Why "MyBrokenFiat?"
  • The Archive
  • Prayers
  • Blog
  • About / Contact Me
    • My 'Reversion'
    • Why "MyBrokenFiat?"
  • The Archive
  • Prayers

The One Time Cat-Calling Made Me Cry

10/29/2014

8 Comments

 
You guys have all seen this by now, right?  

Heck, let's be honest.  I'm willing to bet we've all got stories like this.  Smack a hidden camera to follow any woman and you're likely going to come up with something similar. 

I grew up in North Philly.  At birth, you're instantly gifted several things as a Philly girl.  
These are all non-negotiable:

You are also gifted an invisible layer of titanium skin that shields you from the onslaught of cat-calling you will inevitably learn to ignore with the skill of a ninja.  

I've worn this armor well.  I don't think I remember a time in my childhood or adolescence in which name-calling, cat-calling or even outright bully-ish language used against me caused me much grief.  I always just shook it off and kept going.  I never - EVER - cared about what other people thought of me.  

However, it does eventually take its toll.  There have been times where I've felt thoroughly unsafe as men approach to "compliment" me.  Plenty of times.  There have been times where I've had to physically defend myself against these entitled jerks who believed it was their right to touch me because I happened to have curves.  There have even been times where male friends of mine have had to step in to protect me against another imposing male who would not accept that his "harmless flirtation" was inappropriate, unwanted and incredibly degrading.  

This is not an experience that is unique to me.  It is shared by many (if not all) women.  

I'm not suggesting that all men have thus been guilty of this phenomenon, but enough seem to think this sort of behavior is acceptable / appreciated that the majority of women are nodding their heads in agreement with me.

A few months ago, I was the victim of a particularly upsetting cat call.  I remember being so upset about it that I didn't go straight home.  Instead, I drove to a store - pointlessly - just so I'd have an excuse to not go home right away.  

When I DID finally go home, my husband asked why I was so upset.  I explained I was fine, but I just wasn't ready to talk about it yet.  He understood and let it go, knowing I'd come around (our communication has gotten SO much freakin' better!).

Anyway, later that night, after crying in the shower like an idiot, I came downstairs and had this conversation with John:

Me:  I'm ready to talk now.

John (putting his video on pause):  Okay.  Come sit down next to me.

Me (sitting down with him):  I get this is going to sound really ridiculous, and I KNOW it's going to be a funny story later, but try not to laugh just yet because it really upset me.  I'll be able to laugh about it later, but I can't right now.

John (curiously):  Okay...

Me:  While walking home [through Center City Philadelphia], a man started yelling at me from across JFK Parkway [which, BTW, looks like this:]

Picture
Me (cont.):  I ignored him, obviously, but he sprinted across all 5 lanes to catch up to me.  He kept saying, "Hey baby, you got a black boyfriend?"

I walked faster, but he started jogging until he was right next to me.  I finally said, "I've got a husband.  Just stop."

He said, "I ain't mean anything by it.  You're just built like a black woman.  I could be your man."

This guy was African American.  

I didn't respond, because what the heck do you say to that?  He continued, "You've got a negress ass."

A NEGRESS ASS.

Again, WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

I ignored him and kept walking as if I hadn't even heard him.  But I did, and I couldn't stop churning it over in my mind.  


So I tried to explain to John why I was upset.  When he first told me I was built like a black woman, I was incredulous for two reasons.  Firstly, it seemed like an incredibly racist thing to say. I know he was implying that I was curvy, and I know for certain he thought he was complimenting me, but saying I was built like a black woman somehow implied that white women don't have curves.

Secondly, this guy suggested that I must have a black boyfriend because my physical appearance wouldn't be attractive to white men.  At least that's how I took it.  I didn't know how else to take it.

Finally, the "negress ass" comment just blew me away.  I felt like that was a generally racist comment not just against me, but against black women.  I mean, again - WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

He was obviously trying to tell me I had a large butt.  He was obviously implying that black women have notoriously large behinds which again, by default, means white women don't (or at least shouldn't) have large rear ends.
PictureMy gluteus maximus - and Faith. :)
I admit that really upset me.  

While not normally a vain individual, I know I've gained a few pounds (15 to be exact) this past year.  I didn't need some stranger pointing it out to me on the street. 

The fact that he had to run across 5 lanes of rush-hour traffic to do it just rubbed salt in the wound.

And I know he thought he was complementing me which just drives me even more insane.  

I just don't understand why men feel the need to be this aggressive.  Do they think women will want to date them after an interaction like this?

I assure you, I didn't think to myself, "Well hey!  This guy thinks I've got a nice butt.  I should totally drop everything I've got planned - including time with my husband and son - and run off into the sunset for some cheap sex.  'Cause wow... I'm just SO turned on by his complete lack of decency and superfluous racism!"

It's just - ARGH!

At this point, John's giggling.  I was near tears, but I was grinning, too, because I recognized just how ridiculous the situation actually was.  In my mind, he called me fat.  I don't think he intended to call me fat, but that's precisely how I translated his cat-call.  And it frustrated me that I was upset about it.

It's not like this was my first rodeo.  However, this was the first time I was feeling especially self-conscious, so his aggressive comments forced their way through my armor and crawled under my skin.

I've been annoyed, frustrated and even slightly scared of some cat-calilng situations, but I've never been legitimately upset by it before.  I subscribe to Eleanor Roosevelt's paradigm "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

I had somehow given this man consent, and it frustrated the heck out of me.  

Ah well.  I'm able to laugh about it now, but that's the only experience I can think of where I was actually upset by something a man yelled out at me.  

That being said, I still find the entire idea of yelling out at women to be degrading and off-putting. If you want to say "Hi" or even complement me, fine.  I'll smile and nod appreciation.  Just don't be a creep and expect some sort of flushed praise for being intrusive as I'm trying to make my way home (or to work, or to pick my son up from school, etc).  

How about you folks?  What sort of scenarios stick out in your minds with cat-calling?

And if men are reading, can you offer some sort of insight into WHY men do this?

8 Comments
Rita link
10/29/2014 09:39:41 am

Oh, what an experience. I'm sorry you went through that.

Reply
Nicole P.
10/29/2014 10:53:42 am

You have no idea the number of times that I had a black guy tell me that I have "a black girl butt" while we were in high school (and that was one of the nicer ways they put it). I have always had issues with my size, especially because I know (due to genetics) my butt will never get smaller! High school was as good as it was going to get and these guys pointing out to me how big my butt is, is NOT helpful to my self esteem- although they seemed to think it was the highest of compliments.

Reply
Catherine
10/29/2014 11:03:45 am

Nicole,
Do you ever get brain-cramps trying reconcile how grown-up people try to speak about race interaction, with what our experiences of high school actually were? I do.
:-)

Reply
Gina
10/30/2014 02:21:20 pm

I'm beginning to realize that maybe it was just us... LoL

Catherine
10/29/2014 10:59:09 am

The one that still burns in my brain happened when I was around 14 years old at 66th and Old York rd, waiting by myself to meet my mom at a diner. Nobody touched me, but words can be violating; sometimes, you can't get an experience like that out of my head.

Once, just for fun, a friend and I counted how many hoots, honks, and hollers we received over an 7 block stretch- it came to about 13 total. Then there was a day that I left my house to go downtown in my older brother's tee shirt, and army pants. I came to the understanding that no matter WHAT I was wearing, if I was discernibly female, this invasive, and totally unsolicited one-directional barrage was to be 'expected'. NB- This is not imply that I'm pretty, merely that I am recognized as having ovaries, and that is therefore sufficient enticement to the men in this group. These experiences definitely cause women (particularly from where Gina and I grew up) to look at the world from a defensive stance. Happily, I found out that the world beyond Philadelphia is quite a bit different, in many respects. But Gina, your photos made me tear up, just a bit. The pretzels, in particular. Much love :-)

Reply
Gina
10/30/2014 02:23:47 pm

Isn't that completely creeptastic?

And you're right - even as a young girl the cat-calling was part and parcel of having ovaries. I developed young (as I'm pretty sure you did, too), and it was like open season the second even a hint of a bud of a boob developed.

And you're right - it doesn't matter what you're wearing. Someone is going to say something regardless.

That being said, you can certainly cut down on the more aggressive ones by dressing more modestly, but for some reason, there will always be at least one idiot who wants to shout "Hey baby" to you when you're wearing a moo-moo and hair net.

Heh.

P.S. - I should've added Tastykake.

Reply
Amanda
10/30/2014 09:48:34 am

Is this just a Philly thing?

I mean, I spent most of my life in a small town (2000-ish people), so from ages 12 or so to 18 I guess I wasn't even in a situation to be cat called, because everyone knows you and your parents in a small town.

But, I have lived in St Paul since I was 18 and have honestly never experienced this, including 4 years working downtown.

Reply
Gina
10/30/2014 03:11:20 pm

Hrm. That's surprising to me. Maybe because this is all I've known my entire life I just expected it was exactly like this everywhere.

I've had it happen in NY, Philly, Jersey, Virginia, Florida, Vegas and Jamaica.

The only place I noted that it did NOT happen was when I spent some time over in Ireland. Granted, I was with a boyfriend at the time, so maybe that cut down on things, but I didn't get a creeper vibe over there.

It's definitely an inner-city thing, but it's happened in suburbia, too. What I've found is that inner-city people are more aggressive with their language but suburban men are more aggressive with their hands.

Suburbia is full of entitled jerks, and I guess that explains why they're more handsy (at least in my experience).

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Top Rated Entries

    My Darkest Secret

    Do Animals Have Souls?

    10 Things a Parent of an SPD Kid Wants to Say

    Fun and Easy Lenten Crafts

    Tattoo Taboo

    Blessed Mother as Intercessor

    Loss of Life

    Women Priests II

    Animal Sacrifices

    Render Unto Caesar

    Veiling

    The Godparent Poem

    Broken Friendships

    Miscarriage Reflection

    NYT Anti-Catholic Ad

    Categories

    All
    180
    Abortion
    Adoption
    Adoration
    Adultery
    Agnosticism
    Angels
    Animals
    Annulment
    Apparitions
    Art
    Atheism
    Bahamas
    Baptism
    Blessed Mother
    Blessed-mother
    Blogging
    Books
    Boycott
    Breastfeeding
    Bullying
    Cafeteria Catholic
    Cafeteria Catholics
    Cats
    Ccd
    Celibacy
    Chaput
    Children
    Christmas
    Churches
    Confession
    Conscience
    Contests
    Contraception
    Cookies
    Corapi
    Crafts
    Creation
    Cross
    Defense Of Faith
    Depression
    Divine Mercy
    Divine Providence
    Divine-providence
    Divorce
    Dolan
    Donation
    Dreams
    Easter
    Education
    Eucharist
    Euthanasia
    Evangelization
    Family
    Feasts
    Food
    Forgiveness
    Free Will
    Friendship
    Fun
    Gaza
    Guest Post
    Hat Tip
    Health Care
    Heaven
    Hebrew
    Hhs
    Holy Week
    Homeschooling
    Homily
    Homosexuality
    Illumination
    Incarnation
    Incorruptibles
    Indulgences
    Infertility
    Inspiration
    Intentions
    Intercession
    Intercessions
    Interview
    Islam
    Jewelry
    Kidney
    Komen
    Language
    Lawsuit
    Lbm
    Lent
    Lightbulb Moments
    Liturgy
    Mandate
    Marriage
    Martyrs
    Mass
    Media
    Medjugorje
    Mercy
    Mexico
    Miracles
    Miscarriage
    Moderation
    Moses
    Motherhood
    Music
    Myla
    Nuns
    Old Testament
    Parenting
    Parishes
    Pedophilia
    Pentecost
    Persecution
    Personal
    Philadelphia
    Philly
    Pilgrimage
    Planned Parenthood
    Poetry
    Politics
    Poll
    Pope
    Prayer
    Pregnancy
    Priests
    Prophecy
    Propoganda
    Purgatory
    Question Box
    Quick Takes
    Random
    Recipes
    Reflections
    Relics
    Religious Freedom
    Reviews
    Ridiculous
    Rosary
    Sacrament
    Sacrifice
    Saint
    Saints
    Scandal
    School
    Science
    Seed
    Sewing
    Sexuality
    Sin
    Social Issues
    Social Issues
    SPD
    Spiritual Dryness
    St Anthonybd986ec1d5
    Steubenville
    Suffering
    Tattoos
    Terrorism
    TLM
    Triduum
    Trinity
    Trust
    Twa
    Vatican
    Veiling
    Veils
    Vincent
    Visionaries
    Wedding
    Women Priests

    Pages I Stalk

    A Woman's Place
    Dymphna's Road
    Having Left the Altar
    Fr. Z @ WDTPRS
    Spirit Daily
    These Stone Walls
    St. Joseph's Vanguard
    Catholic Sistas
    Catholic Icing
    Liturgical Time
    Traditional Latin Mass
    Shameless Popery
    Life Victorious
    Catholic Dads
    S'aint Easy
    Truth, Beauty and Goodness
    The Way Out There
    Written by the Finger of 
       God
    Little Catholic Bubble
    So You're a Church Musician
    There and Back Again
    Make It - Love It
    St. Monica's Bridge
    Seeking Renewal 
    Picture

    Archives

    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    February 2017
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    January 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    October 2011
    September 2011
    August 2011
    July 2011
    June 2011
    December 2010
    October 2010
    October 2005

    RSS Feed

Copyright 2021