This comes pretty near the top of the epic scale.
Amazing.
Here’s an unexciting secret: the Rookie staff has a hidden Facebook group wherein we discuss themes and ideas and assignments. We also go there to chat and gossip and joke around and blow off steam. Sometimes things get serious, as they did last month, when Jamia told us about a gross incident of street harassment that had happened to her that day. As everyone began to chime in with support and tales of similar things that had happened to them, we all got so sad, and so MAD. It dawned on us that you can take any random group of girls and women, and EVERY SINGLE ONE of them will have multiple stories of terrible things that were said to them and done to them on the street by strangers, as a matter of course. Just the normal state of affairs when you are out in public, being female. Like, we’re not special. This happens to everybody.
We’re publishing that conversation here today. If you’re not a girl, you might be surprised to learn what all your female friends go through. It might help you understand why we don’t think it’s cute or cool or flattering to be hollered at, commented on, ogled, or groped as we just try to get from one place to another. This wasn’t a conversation we had for the public—this was just what came out when we talked about this stuff in private. Any girl you know can tell you her own horror stories, if you’re willing to listen.
Warning: strong language throughout, by necessity.
I was thinking this morning about the first time I could remember feeling uncomfortable with the way a man was looking at me - I was probably 6 or 7 and riding in a car with my dad. I was one of those obnoxious kids who would stick their arm out a window and get semis to honk (I am also one of those obnoxious adults who does that but only if traffic isn’t bad). I wasn’t doing that when this happened. I was reading a book with my legs pulled up on the seat, and this semi was keeping pace with my dad. I looked out the window and the driver was leering at me and I didn’t quite understand, so I just sort of waved and looked at my dad. He was livid, flipping the guy off and speeding up so we could get away from him. It was years until I understood WHY I felt so uncomfortable because of that semi driver, but now every time I think about it I get a little sick.
There are no words to describe coherently how much I HATE street harrassment.
(Source: sparkamovement)
There’s a special place in hell for people that tell you to calm down when you’re already calm during an argument.
(Source: densityschild, via themerrybegot)
Fuck the fuck off you fucking fuck.
