“Hey, Baby. I like your dress.”
“Gimme a smile, sweetie.”
*Car Honk * “Damn, Babe!”
A simple stroll down Fordham Road often elicits these remarks from passing cars and bystanders alike.
When I first heard them, the comments were unsettling. Sure, I had been catcalled before but never at this magnitude or frequency. So, little freshman me just tugged her skirt down, grabbed onto her purse tighter, and walked at an elevated speed.
Nowadays, I hardly react. It’s like an annoying fly in the room; you know it is there but you hope that if you don’t pay attention to it, it will leave by itself. But it hardly ever leaves.
Now, my poker face is indestructible. My eyes glaze over as I stare straight ahead and block out anything and everything. Any honk, whistle, or shout goes in one ear and out the other. I do not even flinch at the sound of an obscenity shouted at me.
However, indifference and apathy should not be the solution to a problem that should not exist in the first place.
At some point, it was decided that shouting at a woman was the best way to pay her a compliment. Any complaint about this practice is simply deemed as an overreaction. “He was just being nice. He said you were beautiful.” Sure, he did say I was beautiful, but I felt anything other than that.
Catcalls are not compliments.
Rather, catcalls evoke the opposite emotion of a compliment. Compliments produce happiness and self-assurance. You feel proud of the outfit you spent hours picking out and delighted that someone likes your new hairdo. When your character is complimented, you feel like champagne: bubbling, sweet, and light. Everything is brighter than before, and you feel motivated and supported.
On the contrary, a catcall feels like a shadow that follows you around, keeping you in the darkness. You begin to question every aspect of your appearance. A comment on your skirt makes you question its length. A remark about your shirt makes you feel insecure about your bra size. Your throat clenches up and you struggle to breathe for a split second as if the wind was knocked out of you. Nothing feels pleasant.
Even after being desensitized to the comments of strangers, each remark leaves behind a small feeling of insecurity. I don’t react in the face of a cat-caller, but the encounter stays with me. I question what I could do differently to lessen the amount of catcalls I receive. Maybe I should wear longer shorts or looser tops. Maybe I should stop wearing makeup and keep my hair up in a bun.
However, no matter how many times you question how you can change the situation, you cannot stop the catcalls. This is because it is not the victim’s fault. What someone wears should not affect his or her general interactions with strangers. No one is “asking for it” by wearing a certain article of clothing. Only the perpetrator is responsible for his or her actions.
Unfortunately, the cat-callers on Fordham Road are probably not leaving any time soon. Their presence will be there as you walk to the D Train or head to Walgreens. But it is possible to change the pattern of this verbal abuse. We have to educate our youth to understand that verbally accosting someone is not a form of flattery and that an article of clothing is not an open invitation.
