“Hey sexy…want to come home with me?”
It was 7 a.m. I was on the way to work. I felt sick as I entered the subway station, like a stranger had just undressed me with his eyes. His words were actually harmless, but the way he looked at me made me feel dirty.
I was 23 and teaching at a middle school in New York City. The girls in the school—who were probably closer to my age than many of the other teachers—often crowded around my desk, probably because I seemed—and looked—more like an older sister than a teacher. They talked to me very openly about things that were going on in their lives, including being catcalled on the street. It was one thing for me, an adult woman, to have to deal with such behavior. My reaction was clear—I didn’t like it. For my students, girls emerging into their sexuality, it was much more complex. There was definitely a part of them that didn’t like being catcalled, but there was another part that felt complimented, appreciative of the sexual attention from older men, even if it felt creepy.
Continue reading.
Follow us on
No comments:
Post a Comment