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9AM-ish. I decided not to bike because, well, it was cold.
There was only me and this young man on the platform. I was employing my usual tactics: podcasts, phone game, and of course the don’t-talk-to-me face.
The man walked up to me, stroked my arm, pulled one of my earbuds out and told me I was “beautiful” and “did anyone ever tell you that before?” asking me where I was going, if he could come too.
The train was still 6 minutes away, and I said nothing, just put my earbud back in, and focused on This American Life.
The train got there. He followed me, and sat in front of me, just staring. The next stop I hopped out and got onto another car.
He didn’t follow me onto the other car.
I’m a 13 year old girl. I was attacked and assaulted on Walnut Avenue. I was scared to death. I was waiting on my parents after a movie/date with a boy that I really liked. As I waited, the boy showed back up with 6 of his friends…the grabbed me and took me on the side of the building..they each proceeded to touch me and talk to me like I didn’t have feeling like I was nothing. It took everything in me to get away. I am so happy now though that they are locked up. I’m just terrified that it may happen again.
I’ve lived in Atlanta, Georgia for pretty much all of my life. I am originally from New York City. I love going downtown because I love to just hang out shop and eat, but in the summertime I really try to avoid going to the Underground Atlanta, as much as I love it. I just hate that you can’t shop in relax or eat in peace due to the men outside on the street selling drugs and trying to talk to you and grope you up…. trying to front in front of their friends….. Then certain ones get mad at you just because you don’t want to talk to them and they wanna call you all types of bitches and hoes. Or make you feel like they didn’t want you anyway.
I was sitting in a Decatur coffee shop a few weeks ago after a very stressful day writing notes for a project I had to complete before summer’s end. I walked up to the counter to refill my coffee when a man approached me and grabbed my leg from behind, saying “You have very nice thighs, let me touch them some more…in private.” I smacked his hand away, told him to leave me alone and said “would you do/say that to your mother?” and promptly went back to my seat. The coffee shop was full, other people had seen this go down, and the baristas had told him not to harass me, so I assumed that would be the end of it. I sat back down and not twenty minutes later the man returned right behind me, asking me what I was reading, how I was doing, and again started touching my legs and stroking my hair from behind. I was so humiliated that I yelled at him to please please please leave me alone, that I had mace, etc, along with various profanities. He just shrugged and grinned, then shuffled out of the coffee shop.
About five minutes later I looked out the window only to see the man pointing inside at me, talking to another man who I’ve had previous encounters with, all of which have included some degree of harassment. They were both laughing and making lewd gestures of some kind. I reported all of this to the baristas, who sort of shrugged it off but told me the most they could do was kick him out of the store. I left very soon after that shaken and frightened and disgusted, and haven’t seen him in the area since.
Funny that immediately after reading up on the Hollaback ATL and NYC blogs for the first time, I left my apartment near L5P for a quick run and *immediately* experienced street harassment. Just after walking out of my door, I walked past a sketchy-looking bearded man; he was lumbering/stumbling down the hill towards me with his hooded sweatshirt up (despite it being a gorgeous 70 degree sunny day) so I quickly registered the odd energy he was giving off and gave him more than 2 feet of space as we passed – but just as I was right next to him, I felt something wiggle against my buttcheek closest to him. For a split second, I brushed it off…maybe I had imagined it, maybe it was just a bug crash-landing into my ass, maybe whatever…but then I realized, this is exactly what I had just been reading about. There is no write-off for harassment – I knew exactly what it was when I felt it. I stopped the mini-mental excuses and I physically stopped, turned turned on my heel, and called him out in front of the growing line of cars waiting at the stoplight. He spun around wild-eyed like he never expected me to say anything. I did not break eye contact and told him several times that I did not want him touching me or any random woman ever again. I kept staring him in the eye and did not show my fear when he threatened me, saying things like “no YOU don’t touch me, I’m gonna git my girl and come f**k you up” (Because clearly, I enjoy molesting crackheads in broad daylight? I will never know where his logic came in that I touched him). I finally stopped repeating myself and turned to continue on my way as he continued to shout incoherently, and although I continued on a bit shaken, I felt stronger. I will no longer let anyone disrespect me again, verbally or physically. Thanks Hollaback!!
I´m a young teen (18) and went to a party. Once it ended my car did not start so I had to take the subway. I was wearing a very short skirt and tight top – very sexy for the party but not for the subway.* It was about 11:30 pm and I got in a subway car that was empty. On the next station a guy came in the train. First he kept staring at me, then I moved to another train. He followed me. I decided to look away, and 2 minutes later he started sayin nasty stuff like “come and suck me,” etc. So the next station I change trains again, and he followed me. This last train stop was long, and when I looked at him he had his thing out and was jerking off looking at me. I looked away, and he mas moaning and making dirty noises. Once the train stopped I was going to get out, but he grabbed me and started touching me all over my boobs, and between my legs…then the door opened and I ran.
*Editor’s Note: It does not matter what clothing you are wearing or where you are — sexual assault is the fault of the person who commits the act, never the victim.
On Friday night, two girlfriends and I went out to a costume party in East Atlanta. There were photographers everywhere, and people were eager to have their pictures taken with their homemade get-ups. This one guy kept coming up to my girlfriends and I and asking us to take pictures with him. We were all dressed to the nines, having spent hours on our costumes, but it still made us uncomfortable, the number of times this dude came up to us and asked us to pose in photos with him. We kept dancing our way to other parts of the dance floor to avoid him, but he would always find us. During the last photo, when he posed, he kissed me on the forehead and grabbed one of my friend’s breasts. Then he darted off into the crowd, leaving us all too shocked to react.