How Early in the Morning Do I Have to Walk My Dog to Avoid Street Harassment?
I thought 8:30 am was a good time. I’ve estimated that’s when most of the hard-working blue-collar folks of my neighborhood are on their way to work, and while I may get a lot of “male gaze” from passers by, no one has the time to stop and bother me. The later I go in the day, the more likely men are going to slow down and “ask me about my dog.” When I got Brue, I had visions of meeting my future partner at a dog park, just like in the movies. But Brue hates other dogs, and one day in mid-January he started a fight he couldn’t finish at the dog park. After a trip to the emergency vet, we haven’t been back. And honestly, I hate small talk. I hate being hit on, and I avoid those interactions at all costs. These obvious attempts at engaging me in conversation annoy me and make me feel unsafe and uncomfortable. Luckily, everyone assumes my dog is aggressive with people (he’s not) so none of them try to get within the 16 feet of his retractable leash. Small victories.
For a few months now, 8:30 am has been a safe enough time. But earlier this week I walked past a man mowing his lawn to beat the summer heat. I waved - like I do to all the neighbors I pass. He commented that I “stay walking that dog,” indicating he has seen me on my daily route before. I laughed and kept walking. “You gotta start bringing your boyfriend out here, too.” And there it is, a neighborly interaction turned into an invasive exploration of my sex life.
My first reaction is to respond that I am very single, thank you very much. I have spent most of the last 6 years single, and I’m damn good at it. For those participating heavily in patriarchy, the house, car, and business I own all by my big-girl-self is a strong indication of that. For those who find worth outside of capitalism, it is my dedication to my mental health, self-love, and creative exploration that allow me to find happiness in myself. However, in these situations of cat-calling, I know saying that I’m single only invites more inquiries I don’t want to deal with.
Secondly, I’m bi. The assumption that my partner is a cis-gendered heterosexual male, or that I’m even interested in men, always pisses me off. I want to throw some retort back about my girlfriend being too busy making bank to walk with me in the mornings. But I also know that could lead to an escalated form of harassment.
In this particular situation, I had forward momentum to my advantage, so I kept it pushin’ and didn’t respond.
The third option is the one that enrages me the most, but is also the most safe: to simply say I have a boyfriend or husband. I was walking with my friend a few weeks ago, and as she was being hit on by some random dude, I blurted out that she was taken. She was thankful for the disruption. I was mad we had to rely on a mindset that we belong to some man in order to prevent another man from trying to possess us. It was the same when we abruptly changed direction one day as two men stood on a path ahead of us, waiting for us to reach them. Another time I realized we were being followed, resulting in a half-mile detour when we were only a block from her home. But hey, we had to ensure he didn’t know where she lived.
There is a very important aspect of oppression we don’t often address. Consider what it must mean for a person’s humanity to not respect the humanity of another. Think of the degradation of their soul in the pursuit of superiority. When we talk about the moral obligation of equity, it is also about the moral deficit created in oppressors. Yes, there are social wins to being the oppressor, but the cost to oneself is devastating. In your desperate scramble to maintain whatever power you believe you have, what have you already sacrificed?
At this point I suppose I’m talking to like-minded folks here. But y’all can share it to your social media, and send it to that problematic brother/uncle/cousin/friend/dude who won’t leave you the fuck alone. Tell them I say fuck off. It isn’t a compliment. It isn’t cute. It will absolutely NOT get you my number or in my bed, or anywhere near this house and life I run by my damn self.
I am a whole fucking person. I wish the same for you.