Showing posts with label catcalling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label catcalling. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Joyeuses fêtes ... lakay mwen ...

My pretty card, signed by each student in one of my higher
classes.
Happy Holidays, whether you're caroling, reaching the end of your menorah, wondering when all the inflatable snowmen will go away, or going to a family-friendly pole-dance.
I'm heading out tomorrow to returns to the U.S. to visit friends and family for Christmas. As such, posts will not be at their normal, lackadaisical rigor but in fact even more sporadic.
I already dread putting myself on the plane to come back here. I'm not happy with the small-town life here, nor with the way I'm fitting in it - or rather, with the extent I'm not finding a niche. As a very independent person, I'm struggling with my inability to go out and enjoy what Martinique has to offer, and as a New Yorker I'm frustrated with how little it has to offer. While I love my job and the majority of teacher I work with, and I adore my students, work is, after all, not all there is to life.
That being said, I hardly fit in back home in Alabama. I'm not exactly looking forward to being interrogated and derided by my family for my choices and my failure to start my own family, and that will sting all the more when I know myself (and I'm sure my dad has told them) that I'm not happy. So, I don't idealize going home, but I do need a break to see my more intellectual friends, hold my cat, and be able to come and go as I please.
I'm hoping for renewal and peace this Christmas, and I wish the same to you.

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Umbrella Breakthrough


The random homeless guy who
declared me to be queen of England
(without even knowing my real name,
mind you), insisted I take his picture,
and tried to kiss me.

This last week I suffered a tragedy that actually led me to a breakthrough of the problem of street harassment. As previously mentioned, it's of the worst parts of living here and an injustice I refuse to accept. But this story starts far from the men-filled streets, up in the forest on a hike. Somewhere between sitting down for our picnic in the river at the Absalon hot springs and the end of our long, uphill trek to the nearest bus stop, I lost my only hat here, a freebie from a senior event at Columbia. I was devastated, not because I especially liked the hat but because I was frustrated with myself for losing it and had no other form of physical sun protection for my face.
Last spotting of my dear hat.
On Thursday I had to handle this situation. However, since both straw hats and bucket hats look dumb and I was tired of carrying around my rain jacket, anyway, I decided to buy an umbrella instead of another hat. I paid too much for it in a corner shop and went about my way (as if I was busy).
The change in my quality of life was immediate.
First of all, carrying the umbrella already makes you out as an independent asshole who doesn't care how precious they look, because they're going about with an umbrella up in the sun regardless of what anybody thinks. So, people approach you less.
I have honestly heard the absolute
 weirdest comments about my appearance. 
Then, it's a physical barrier between you and other people. It both hides your face and discourages any comments anyone could logically make about it and keeps them from getting close to you.
I still need to come up with a hat,
though, since umbrellas aren't very
practical on hikes, like the one that
led me to this beautiful view.
Finally, carrying about an umbrella makes you more physically threatening. Apparently men who fail to gather from my crossing the street to avoid them, refusing to make eye contact with them, and walking quickly away from them that I don't want to talk to them can ascertain from the slightest shake of the folded umbrella in my hand that I might just fucking whack them with it. One little flick of the wrist and the guy who was veering towards me is suddenly veering away.
I feel so liberated.
Mind you, I suffer from no illusions about the complete efficacy of this tactic. I'm sure that the most aggressive street harassers will still bother me. However, whereas I endured several instances a day of street harassment sans umbrella, I've yet to suffer a single one since I've had it, and that's a change I can deal with.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Call it what it is: Harassment

Iguanas don't disturb passersby. Apparently they also don't fall for traps that stupid.
Recently, I was walking to work, approaching a corner where a lone man was standing, apparently unoccupied. Oh boy, I thought, I know what this means. Sure enough, as soon as I passed, he started talking to me, not to say "Bonjour", which is legitimately relatively common to say to total strangers while walking down the street here, but to try to get my attention, as if he had a question, leaning quite close to me. I said "Bonjour" and kept walking, the received advice for these situations. He started walking with me, leaning in closer, staying a little bit ahead and to the right of me, leaning into my face and starting to get more rude. As I stepped out to cross the road I couldn't really see around him. Suddenly, a moped came screeching by, nearly smashing into both of us. "See there," the man following me said, "You almost got hit, almost got smashed to bits because you're mal-élevée", a word which here translates roughly to "not raised right". That's correct, the man harassing a stranger on the street, who continued to follow me while calling me rude names for a block and a half, felt he had the moral authority to tell me that I wasn't raised right. At least as soon as he stopped following me, the poor guy on the moped drove past, leaning over to shout, "Désolé!" in apology.
While this guy was particularly nagging, the fact of the matter is that street harassment is *literally* an everyday occurrence for me and other women I see walking about. Every single day, it's not an "if" but a "when" a strange man will follow you, say obscene things to you, shout at you, and even grab your arm as they try to keep your attention. I dare say that it's as bad as it was during my summer in Paris before they passed the anti-harassment laws. Oh, right. They made it punishable by fine to harass people in public, and the problem, while not completely gone, diminished dramatically in scale. Over about a year's time, with the passage of that law, my walking-on-the-street experience went from dreading going out because I knew men would lean in to whisper profanities in my ear and follow me to being genuinely surprised when strange men tried to talk to me.
Why don't they do that here?
One reason, I believe, is all of the apologeticism for it. One woman assistant brought up the issue of street harassment in our orientation, and the local teachers, men and women, came up with every excuse from, "Men here appreciate beauty and want to tell you," to, "It's the heat." "It's a complement," one lady insisted, "it's not rape."
All this reasoning and minimizing is ridiculous, of course, and I said as much in my written evaluation of the orientation. That being said, I think there is a real reason why local women go to such lengths to excuse such behavior: racism. I know what you're thinking, you just see racism everywhere. While that may be true, hear me out: part of Racism as it was developed in the West entailed the hyper-sexualization and hyper-criminalization of black people, right? Perfect: white people are extra paranoid about their pure resources (white women) being appropriated by impure, virulent underclass (black men). So, they're quick to accuse black men of sexual crimes, throughout history and in many countries. All the while, white men are committing sexual crimes against women, too, both in the mainland and in the colonies DOM/TOMs. Yet, accusing a white man of sexual harassment entails much more social and financial risk to a woman, whereas accusing a black man of it comfortably confirms racial prejudices and poses relatively little risk of serious consequences. So, even though black and white men are both harassing women, both in terms of criminal convictions and cultural representations, it seems like black men are the problem. How are black women, especially ones from the underserved colonies DOM/TOMs supposed to feel about this? They may feel a loyalty to women and be frustrated / afraid of street harassment, but I can only imagine that this loyalty, above all to white women, is strained by economic struggle and cultural chauvinism on the part of mainlanders. Meanwhile, they also feel a defensiveness for men of their own race / local origin, who they know are only part of the problem yet the focus of racio-sexual hysteria. Result: they defend black colonized DOM/TOM resident men to the death, even though they're also frustrated and afraid.
My analysis, I admit, is based more on in-class discussions of Muslim / middle-eastern francophone women defending patriarchy, and not so much on conversations with locals, because locals won't discuss it with me. I'll keep poking around and initiating uncomfortably political conversations, though, and keep you posted.