Touched by a stranger…

cross-posted from jspot.org

No, not in the good way.

I consider myself a feminist. A proud and public one. Most who know me would emphatically agree. I also consider myself good at confrontation. It feels awkward to use the word “good,” but it’s the right one. While I don’t revel in them, typically , I manage difficult conversations very well.

So why oh why, is it so ridiculously hard for me to tell a creep on the subway that the way he is invading my space is inappropriate and unacceptable? Bloody hell, it’s next to impossible for me to turn to the person beside me and say, hey you, stopping touching me.

Is it just me? I know it’s not. I’ve had this conversation with friends and co-workers. And I know I’m not the first woman to make the brilliant observation that men often take up more than their fair share of space.

Last night, I’m on my way home. Riding on one of the new NYC subway trains with the long blue seats. I’m sitting at the far right, next to the handrail. The train isn’t very crowded. After a few stops, a young, thin guy sits down next to me. For no legitimate reason, he could fit a soccer ball between his legs.

My legs were crossed away from him, so he had to stretch to touch my
leg, but apparently it was worth the effort. His leg was in constant
touch with mine and whenever the train “conveniently” moved, his arm
also lightly pressed into me.

I sat there fuming, critical of
him and frustrated with myself for not saying anything. Mentally
writing this blog post to distract myself, over and over in mind I
asked myself why it’s so hard to say something.

Dude, stop touching me. Move over. Excuse me. Any of them would do. But it’s scary. Really scary.

Are you putting yourself at more risk? Is it worth it? Will the people
around you side with you or him? Will he actually stop or just do it
more? Will he follow me when I get off the train?

As almost
always, the burden falls on the woman. While she is the one mistreated,
she is also the one solely responsible for confronting and rectifying
the situation.

The MTA does a small, but significant, part. Once in awhile I see those signs
, which are very important, saying “A crowded train is no excuse for an
improper touch. Don’t stand for it or feel ashamed, or be afraid to
speak up. Report it to an MTA employee or police officer.” Many thanks
to the women and men that helped put them there. It’s time for the next
several steps. More on the MTA’s campaign from TransitBlogger.com .

Back to my subway ride home. After considerable aggravation and
anxiety, when the train shifted I subtly, lightly, but noticeably
pushed back with my left side and shot him a very dirty look.

And it worked! Oh the glory! It’s amazing the impact a small victory
can have. My state of mind shifted from belittled and demoralized to
satisfied and triumphant. My victory was short lived, the train shortly
turned into an express and we both got off at the next stop.
Nonetheless, it was significant. I don’t know if it will be any easier
next time, but I’m thrilled that I stood up for myself last night and
it ended in success.

To the creep on the subway, maybe you’re
not a creep at all, but your behavior was out of line. And to all the
men that strive not to be creeps, check your space invasion in public
spaces…especially around women, who were taught to not take up space
and not speak up.

It doesn’t start or end with space on the
subway. Let’s work towards the day when women won’t have to call men
out and men will be mentally and physically aware of their place in the
world. And just as importantly, intentionally make equal space for
women everywhere.