Disclaimer:

I am a feminist. I believe in chivalry. I am in a relationship. I wear dresses and paint my nails. These qualities do not make me less of a feminist or less of a woman. I am NOT an extremist, or a man-hater, as real feminists aren't. It is the simple and collective belief that women deserve to be treated with respect. Though this article is easily categorized as a feminist article, it can apply equally to any gender or walk of life. All genders, specified or not, deserve to be treated with the same amount of respect. Now, as stated in the title, this is a rant. So here goes.

All girls have been catcalled at some point during their lives. Everyone develops at different ages, and once that journey to womanhood has started, it's as if open season begins for select members of the male population to acknowledge the fact that you now have woman parts that they can take charge of.

It comes in all forms, and what isn't as well understood is how it's done. It isn't always a strange man commenting on my body, sometimes it's actually a compliment being given. What makes it, or anything for that matter, harassment, is context. It doesn't matter what's said, or where it takes place, or what you're wearing, or how you reacted.

I've had many experiences being catcalled while living in New York. Some were more derogatory and offensive than others. Some of the worst were in perfect daylight while I was a hostess on the patio of a restaurant. But one of the most innocent experiences stands out to me the most.

I woke up on a Sunday morning, and I left my dorm to go get breakfast. Now, on my campus the dining hall is right across the street. I'm on my way, and there's a man coming up towards me on the sidewalk. In passing he was just close enough for me to hear him say, "Hey beautiful", in a voice that cut me to the core. I was instantly infuriated and fed up with men bothering me lately that I turned around to flip him off. After seeing my reaction, the quiet harasser started screaming at me all the way up the block! And he didn't stop until I was out of sight. I was called a slut and a whore, and how he wouldn't let me near him, and that he should teach me a "lesson."

The experience had me shaken up, and I didn't know what to make of it. I talked about it almost in tears, thinking of what could have happened there on the sidewalk. I thought, "I was always told to just ignore them, why did I react? I had to have set him off, that was a bad idea." Then, I stopped myself and I was angry, not at him for a brief moment, but at the world. I had nothing to be sorry about. I did nothing wrong.

Sure, maybe a middle finger isn't the most ladylike gesture in the world. But harassing a young woman who clearly isn't interested in your implied and active sexual advances isn't the most gentlemanly thing to do either. And to clear the "was she asking for it" question, I was wearing baggy sweats, no makeup, and a messy bun. So let's just say if this was an experiment, the ruling is out.It doesn't matter what you are wearing. The victim is never asking for it. You know what I was asking for? Pancakes. You know what I got? Threatened.

If I'm being honest in retelling my story, I have to include that I took karate for 9 years and taught women's self-defense classes, as well as the fact that I carry pepper spray 99% of the time. I can handle myself for the most part. However, I would be crazy if I said that these things make me untouchable. There are a million unknown factors when you walk into a situation and you can prepare yourself for as many as possible, but you cannot prepare for the unknown. There will always be a wild card.

However, I think the thing that bothers me most is what I didn't realize until later. I was in a crowd of people. There were construction workers directly to my left, other students all around and people, in general, using the campus as a shortcut. There were several witnesses to the initial action and the screaming repercussions. No one said anything. I remember turning around, trying to make eye contact with anyone, just to confirm that it actually happened. No one would look at me. No one stopped the man on the street. No one came to my aid. It wasn't that they didn't hear it because it was quite hard not to. They didn't care enough to act. Just like women are taught to ignore cat-callers and harassers, people have accepted the fact that ignorance is bliss.

The problem goes so much deeper than it's made to be. People have stopped caring for one another. Even a kind-hearted, "Are you alright?" would have helped. But the whole situation was ignored. What if the situation turned dangerous? Would I be on my own then too? Some people might even say that because I live in New York City, it's more likely that this would happen. Again, wrong. It doesn't matter where you live. Where there are predators there are victims. I'm sorry, do you think that they have their own community on the Upper East Side where they hang out? Probably not. The problem isn't the location, it's the people.

Or maybe it was the fact that I was a stranger. Maybe if it were their sister, mother, girlfriend, wife, or whoever they care about that was in my shoes that day, they would have cared. They didn't know me, so why should they care.

With that said, there will always be people in this world that you cannot control, including those who sexually harass others. In a perfect world, there wouldn't be, but you can't arrest someone for saying, "Hey beautiful." However, what's equally as wrong and disturbing as those harassing others are those who let it happen. Society has accepted it as such a societal norm that no one even bats an eye to hearing a woman being called out on the street. When did we stop caring about each other? If you're not helping society, you're hurting it.

A woman shouldn't be scared to walk to her apartment one block away, or feel belittled as a plaything when she could be the next president for all we know. I used to be scared, but now I'm just angry. Angry at how anyone could let another person be preyed upon or hurt. My situation was minor, but to think about people's reactions and to think about what the situation could have been....that is the part that is truly frightening.

You can't control others, but you can keep yourself from being one of them. We won't stop sexual harassment by raising money or putting out fancy public service announcements. We'll stop it when we can all find the human decency to band together and protect one another.Because that is what humans are supposed to do; take care of each other.