Marissa’s Story

My boyfriend and I had gone out for a nice little evening last summer with his friends. As I was waiting for him to say goodbye, I crossed the street in front of Johnny’s. I stood on the corner waiting for him to catch up. Meanwhile, two men came up behind me and slapped my butt, catcalling along the way. I immediately felt violated, so I decided to give them my all.

I chased after them (by this time they were in the middle of the street) and I confronted them. I was kind of hysterical at that point, using a loud voice and making others quite aware of what happened. I basically embarrassed the crap out of them. I told them directly that what they did was categorized as harrassment and that they sure wouldn’t do the same thing if their grandmother was around, so they’d better not do it ever again.

The sad thing was that afterwards, even though I had confronted them, I still felt terrible. I felt like I had been treated like a hooker on a corner. My ass “available” to spank any time a man felt like it.

I immediately stormed to my car, trying to hold back tears. Once I got inside, I started bawling. My boyfriend had not even seen the situation unfold. He was mad that I had walked away and that I had left him when I ran to the car. I could barely get the words out to tell him why. If he had been there, would it have happened? Probably not. But why was I thinking that… I shouldn’t have to have a man by my side in order to avoid street harrassment.

I deserve a better world than that, and so do all the other women.

Breaking the Silence

by Becca

OK, Hollabackers; I have a confession. I’ve been an angry street harassment blogger for almost a year now, but until recently, I’d never actually said anything to a guy who was harassing me. It’s happened several times, as I’ve noted in other posts, but for whatever reason–safety, embarrassment, lack of sheer nerve–I never in the moment found my voice to tell someone that what he’s doing is wrong. Until last night.

First of all, this has been building for a while. In the last month, the nice weather has brought out the ugliest parts of some people, and personally I’ve gotten too many catcalls, car honks, and comments on my appearance while jogging, walking down the street, or basically anytime I’m alone, or with only other females, in public. Enough is enough. It’s time we all (myself included) started speaking up more in the moment.

So last night, I was out with the cast of Drake’s ‘The Vagina Monologues’ (aka some of the most badass feminists in the metro area) for a reunion pole party at Kees Camp in West Des Moines. If you’ve never been to one, a pole party is a fantastic way to spend an evening bonding with your girlfriends, enjoying some beverages if you wish, and learning to do cool stuff on-yes-poles. None of these activities involve stripping, tips, or an audience; mostly it’s a lot of sweating, but feeling amazing. It’s all about you having fun, seeing what dazzling tricks you can do. Who will you dazzle? That’s, again, all up to you; maybe a special someone at some point, but probably just yourself, and definitely not some random dudes on the street who offer to “make sure you’re getting your money’s worth.”

So yeah, following this awesome time, a group of us were walking to our cars not more than ten feet away from the studio entrance when three rude men began to shout from down the strip mall, “Hey, we have your poles down here! Come show us what you got!” Oh, for sure, I’ll get right on that! We all looked at each other, in that moment when you decide whether or not it’s worth confronting, and it was. My friend Cate (who is a total badass) and I stepped up to the sidewalk and together, we told these guys that what they were saying was disrespectful, that what they were doing was harassment and we didn’t like it. We told them, directly, that we were not there for their entertainment, and that we were getting our “money’s worth” strictly for us, not for them. We challenged them to speak to us like real men, with respect, to our faces, because real men don’t harass.

What did we get? First some laughter, some continued baiting to come and put on a show, then some silence, and then a “Whuttttt?” when we decided we were done and got into our cars. Done deal; you’ve just been Hollabacked!

It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, and my legs were shaking for probably five minutes afterwards (which was a little scary since I was trying to drive in 5-inch stiletto’s), but it was worth it. It was time to break the silence and confront the harassers calmly, but firmly. It helped not to be alone, and I might not have said anything had I been by myself–which just shows me how much we need solidarity, and good bystanders, to join together against harassment.

The time is now, Des Moines. Do you have our backs?

This “Big Girl” Doesn’t Want a Drink

By: Erin Meek

Today I saw something that made me go from disbelief, to rage, to on the verve of tears in a mater of seconds. A local bar, that I pass on my way to work, was advertising a new drink special. Ladies Nights and female-only drink specials are problematic enough, but this advertisement goes far beyond generic sexism and into the realm of body image, ageism, and outrageous assumptions about female self-esteem.

$2.50 for a beer, not bad as far as downtown bars go. But this beer special was for “Big Girls With College ID.”

Think about that phrase for just a moment. $2.50 beers for big girls with college ID. What is a “big” girl? How large does my bosom have to be to satisfy this bar’s working definition of “big”? My hips? My ass? How BIG is TOO BIG? Who can I ask to get a ruling? Because I sure as hell don’t know how to make such an important judgment. Even further, is this special just for “girls”, or can WOMEN get in on it as well? At what age am I no longer a girl, and this special no longer applies to me? If I’m a driven, confident, and self-assured woman, does my beer cost more? If I am no longer in college, but am instead a young professional, looking for an establishment to grab a drink after work- do I need to find my happy hour elsewhere?

This sign enraged me. I hope it enrages you. It preys on the tenuous self-esteem of the average American woman. It encourages women to have an unhealthy image of themselves, regardless of their size. Women who are no longer “college-aged” will feel alienated and undesired. I, a self-classified “big girl” found myself feeling momentarily disgusted about myself. This is not acceptable, and it is NOT okay.

I felt harassed by that sign. Just as I feel harassed every time a someone hurls catcall out of a car window. Or harassed an anti-queer slur as they walk past me on the street. This bar is just as sexist, it is just as wrong, and it is not okay. I will not disclose the name of the establishment on this website, because I don’t believe in slander. But I can tell you that it is in the East Village of Des Moines, and under no circumstances will they ever receive a dollar of my business.

Holla.

V-Day is coming up! Find a performance near you!

by Becca Lee

“V-Day is a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls. V-Day is a catalyst that promotes creative events to increase awareness, raise money, and revitalize the spirit of existing anti-violence organizations.”

Generally, V-Day events center around Eve Ensler’s play, The Vagina Monologues, which she wrote based on numerous interviews with women about sexuality, rape, and abuse. Ensler created a non-profit in 1998 through which she allows organizations to produce her play, or other related works, once in February, March, or April of each year and use it to raise awareness about violence against women, and fundraise for local anti violence against women non profits. Whether it be to stage a performance of the play, screen the documentary, or host workshops — the message is the same: violence against women is very real and needs to end.

Erin G.’s Story

It around 10 PM on a Thursday night and I was walking to my car, which was parked about 20 or 30 feet away from my friend’s house. A guy driving by in a burgundy van slowed down and asked if I was “looking for money” and I ignored him and continued walking. He started to back up a bit as if he was trying to follow me but then he drove up the street. As I got closer to my car I realized he was getting ready to turn around and he was yelling at me but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I got in my car, locked the doors, and started to drive away. Right when I turned onto Forest Ave I saw him come around the corner and pass me. Then I saw him again as I was about to turn onto University. I thought he was going to follow me but he didn’t.

I’ve been harassed before but this was the first time where I felt really unsafe. It also pissed me off that he assumed I was “looking for money” (I was walking to my car, carrying my laptop and a loaf of bread for christ’s sake.) and then got belligerent and threatening when I had the audacity to ignore him.

I’ve lived in Des Moines for a year. Prior to this incident I had walked by myself at night (and in this same neighborhood nearly every night for two months) without any problems. I prefer not to walk alone at night but I never felt unsafe. Now I don’t even feel safe coming home at night if I see one or two men hanging around in the parking lot.

The 12 Days of Hollaback!

Cross-posted from the main site.

Thank you so much to everyone who came to our HOLLAday party this year! You can check out the photos from the event on Facebook, here.  Happy HOLLAdays from all of us at Hollaback!

On the First day of Christmas,
Hollaback! said to me
It’s my right to walk-safely!

So on the second day of Christmas,
A subway creep said to me,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the third day of Christmas,
Hollaback! said to say:
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the fourth day of Christmas,
A subway creep said to me,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the fifth day of Christmas,
Hollaback! said to say:
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the sixth day of Christmas,
A subway creep showed to me,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the seventh day of Christmas
Hollaback! said to me,
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the eighth day of Christmas,
A creep tried to grab me,
Not before I smacked him
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the ninth day of Christmas,
Hollaback! said to me,
Let’s end street harassment,
I think I’ll smack him
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the tenth day of Christmas,
A creep jerked off in front of me,
We have the power,
To end street harassment,
I think I’ll smack him,
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
Hollaback! said to me,
Report him to the cops,
We have the power
To end street harassment,
I think I’ll smack him
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
Emily May said to me,
Join the revolution,
Report him to the cops,
We have the right
To be safe on the Subway,
I think I’ll smack him
Put him on the net,
His disgusting penis,
I’ll take a picture,
He’d like to bang that,
That’s not appropriate,
Nice rack baby,
It’s my right to walk-safely!

“I wasn’t in the mood for screaming back at him.”

As I’m walking to the capitol from my car (this is right in front of the capitol) I hear a faint whistle that I wasn’t certain was directed at me. I wasn’t certain until I heard the very unique (sarcasm), “Mm, girl, can I get some fries with that shake?” I wasn’t in the mood for screaming back at him, so I threw him the bird without looking and continued on my way.

Hey, Edward: You’re sexist and I know it!

by Becca Lee

On this Thanksgiving, I wish I could say that I am thankful for a world in which people aren’t subjected to portrayals of sexism as “sexy.” However, what I am thankful for are all the people who aren’t afraid to speak out against blatant sexism everywhere we go.

So in this vein, I would like to direct your attention to this wonderful new campaign, Sexy or Sexism, which takes a look at the most popular TV shows in our prime-time line-ups and analyzes their rhetoric for sexism. (For anyone who’s been boldly taken by Zooey Deschanel’s good looks and charm in the new series ‘The New Girl,’ I wildly encourage you to take a look at their site–though, of course, feel free to disagree and engage!)

The blog, which is powered by the Women’s Media Center, focuses on TV shows, and so with that field covered, I’d really like to talk about film. Specifically, what’s really killing my media buzz is all the swooning over this weekend’s blockbuster Breaking Dawn. The fourth installment in Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight saga, the book/film really ought to have been titled Breaking Bella, Breaking Bones or if I may be so bold, Isn’t It So Sexy When I Terrorize My Girlfriend, Part IV? SERIOUSLY.

So let’s talk about why this kid Edward Cullen is the very opposite of “sexy,” from the very beginning of the saga. We’ll start with an evaluative true/false quiz to determine what we commonly desire in our intimate partners. In your head, decide how much you agree with these questions.

• I think it’s sexy when my partner forcibly isolates me from my family and friends.
• I think it’s sexy when my partner stalks me.
• I think it’s sexy when my partner intimidates me with looks, threats, and outbursts.
• I think it’s sexy when my partner violates my privacy.
• I think it’s sexy when my partner threatens or does harm to me, my loved ones, and/or themselves.
• I think it’s sexy when my partner controls how I look, what I say, and where I go.

If the statements above describe the love of your life, I’m deeply concerned for you. If, however, the voice inside your head screams NOT A CHANCE IN HELL, then I think we have some common ground for reaching the Edward = controlling asshat conclusion.

This quiz is a modification of the Power and Control Wheel–a way of conceiving domestic violence through (typically) eight spheres of behavior: harassment, intimidation, privacy violation, threats, male privilege, limiting independence, humiliation, and isolation. Under this model, we can see the correlation between everyday behaviors that become a gateway to intimate partner violence, including physical, sexual, verbal, and emotional abuse.

So, while it may be difficult to immediately recognize Edward as an abuser, think about the statements above. Then think about Twilight. Do you see scary correlations? I sure do.

Edward stalks Bella: he appears in her house unannounced and uninvited, he watches her sleep when she doesn’t know it, he follows her (and her scent), he eavesdrops on her conversations with other people, he wishes he could read her mind, he keeps tabs on her future through Alice, etc., etc., etc.

Edward also threatens the crap out of Bella, as much as she says that she trusts him and feels safe. He is intentionally intimidating, breathtaking, pointing out how defenseless Bella truly is against him. It is always clear that Edward is physically and mentally stronger than Bella. She is cast as accident-prone, weak, and defenseless, which seemingly justifies Edward’s attitudes and behaviors as necessary protection.

Bella is also a really flat character, aside from her relationship with Edward. Truth is, she’s probably pretty awesome by herself, but the lens of the story doesn’t think she’s important at all. She’s only significant as Edward’s love interest–because he controls her life. She doesn’t even have a story to tell until she meets him. And, as Edward explains, he is genetically programmed to attract her through looks, smell, voice, and charm. Of course she’s infatuated! This calls her whole love for him completely into question, because it’s established from the very beginning that Edward has this power over her.

But let’s go with it; she loves him, whatever. A long-term commitment means Bella needs to be a vampire. This wouldn’t be problematic if it weren’t for this fact: in order to become a vampire, Bella must never again see her parents, other human friends or her very close friends, Jacob and the werewolves. She also must DIE.

One could make the counter-argument that Edward does not force this–Bella chooses it–but she does so under the following conditions: first, Edward will not have sex with her until they are married. This is fair enough if you’re traditional like that. But then second, Edward will not have sex with her unless she is a vampire. They consummate the marriage just once while she’s human–an encounter in which Edward breaks the furniture and leaves Bella bruised from top to bottom. (The film mitigates the description of her injuries given in the book.) In the morning, Edward feels terrible; he’s apologetic (cue the “Honeymoon Period”). But more importantly, rather than change his own sexual behaviors and learn to be a more gentle lover, Edward just refuses to put out after that. Bella tries again and again to get her freak on, but Edward won’t relent.

See here, Edward withholds a fundamental human need in a dangerous paradox: either Bella remains human and keeps her family/friends and some degree of agency (as much as she can have with Edward stalking her every move), but not sexual love, or she gets a sexual relationship with Edward at the sacrifice of all relationships with non-vampires and her own very life. What is the crux of this ultimatum? Edward is always in control of the situation; his demands take precedence. It’s not about what Bella wants for her life, but what Edward wants for her. I suppose it’s considerate that he doesn’t want to hurt her in bed, but he ultimately leaves her no choice since they are then married. A romantic and sexual life with Edward means sacrificing her own self.

But then the sexism continues, and Edward has a new realm of control over Bella–though his frozen sperm! As soon as she is married, Bella’s sexual desires become entangled with her reproductive functions–reassuring us that sex is only for babiez. Bella becomes pregnant from her only romp in the sack,  and then spends the last of her human days on bed rest, looking like crap, sucking blood through a styrofoam cup. Is she surrounded by her family, friends? Does her mom hold her hand and bring her ice chips during the delivery? Nope. She is entirely at the mercy of the Cullen clan and Jacob–who pretty much crashes the party and then stands guard to protect her from the wolves (who want to kill the vampires and the baby). Isn’t it strange that the last time Bella the human sees her parents is at her wedding? Isn’t it also strange that most of her friends either lose contact or see her as an enemy once she is married/pregnant?

And of course, the pregnancy wrecks the hell out of Bella’s human body, so extremely that she literally must choose between her own life and the life of the fetus/baby*. But it is only in these scenes where Bella asserts her will against Edward–which is that she will have the baby. He concedes, and then has to bite the baby out of her during delivery, while it breaks all her bones and destroys her from the inside out. Daddies often assist with delivery, but someone tell me why Bella’s fate always comes down to Edward? He, of course, must be the one to turn her into the vampire with his venom. He gets the baby out and then it’s up to his supernatural powers to decide whether she lives or dies in the end of the situation. And strange enough, she lives by dying. She DIES for Edward and this baby. She continues as a character as a vampire, but she is DEAD.

You could argue that life is perfect as soon as she’s a vampire**; she is fierce and more like Edward than ever before, but all because he: wooed her through stalking and intimidation, essentially coerced her into marrying him in order to have sex with him, then turned her black and blue knocking her up, and finally killed her during childbirth so that they could spend their eternity together. She literally loses her own identity in order to be with her husband. I realize that we often change, lose parts of our independent selves to be part of a family, but Edward doesn’t change at all, so this is entirely unequal. It’s also controlling, manipulative, and–here it comes–abusive.

Here is where I stand: Mature, healthy relationships allow both partners to be sexually and emotionally fulfilled within the partnership while maintaining independent interests and outside relationships with family and friends. They allow equal decision-making.