Someone was hollering harassment at female athletes on the West Drive in Central Park. This time it sounded like it was coming from a male so young his voice hadn’t changed yet. A glance over the shoulder showed a group of seven boys on bicycles. They looked the right age for Junior High School.
Their leader had already developed the intuition for picking out unaccompanied women. There are just a few seconds to choose a course of action when someone comments on the body of every woman he sees. On a less crowded day it would have been possible to speed up and avoid them. Rolling the eyes in exasperation was a valid option: I was twenty-six and these kids were twelve or maybe thirteen. Really, does one have to put up with this from children?
Instead I slacked pace just a little. Sure enough, the little alpha wolf-pup comments about my butt. When he catches up I turn to looked him in the eye and answered, “Girls don’t like it when you talk to them that way.”
“Uh-oh!” a couple of his friends exclaimed. They expected a challenge. They’ve heard put-downs and curses before.
Instead they hear something they weren’t prepared for. The thought in my head at that instant was maybe the grown men who had made street harassment a habit could have been reached at some point when they were young. So I used a regular voice, one human being to another: “You see men talk that way, but they aren’t getting anywhere are they?” His friends fell silent.
He was listening so I continued. “If you think a girl is pretty just talk to her like a regular person. Say hello, start a conversation. You’ll do a lot better that way.”
The mask of bravado had completely fallen off his face. He was thinking about the grown men he had been imitating. “Then why do they do that?”
“They don’t know any better. The ones who act that way are kind of dumb.”
One boy called out from the back of the pack. “Yeah, it’s a dumb thing to do.”
The leader studied my face, then in a quieter voice replied, “Thanks.” I smiled back but he probably didn’t see. He was already slacking his pace. His group fell behind as I continued to work out. There weren’t any more inappropriate shouts from them that afternoon.
– Lise
Location: La Mesa, California
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