From small town to big city: The shock of catcalling and other offenses

I am from a town just outside of Albany, New York. Both kids and adults know about the bubble around our town, constantly sheltering us from the world.

To escape this bubble, I decided to go to college in Boston. I figured, besides a lot more people, Boston would not be overwhelmingly different. I was accepted into an awesome school (let’s go Boston University!) and it was right in the middle of Boston. Students are friendly and helpful and kind.

Well, I never thought about what also can come with a city. A lot more people means a lot more of the strange and immature people of the world.

Back home, with a few exceptions, girls were never catcalled. Although sexual abuse and rapes occurred in Albany and occasionally in towns nearby, my town rarely had this sort of problem.

Boston on the other hand was a wake up call. Especially during the school year when there are a lot more immature frat brothers around and, just in general, weird guys around. It was common to hear someone catcall me, my friends, or a group of girls in passing on the side walk, in parties and clubs, and even when they drove past us in cars.

When my roommate and I came back from the store one night, we both nearly lost it. Not only was it getting late and even colder outside, but it was pouring rain and windy. We did our best to race back to our dorm with our hands clinging to our grocery bags. Even if we had remembered an umbrella, neither of us had an open hand to hold one. So not only were we clearly annoyed and in a rush, but we were also drenched. I remember my roommate making a comment that even though we looked horrible, we probably would still have trouble on our 15 minute walk back. Well, she was right.

Sure enough, we passed a group of guys on the sidewalk. The guy in the front looked at us and slowed down to say we looked nice and should come back with him and his friends. Well, we kept walking, a little faster paced now, hoping to avoid having to actually talk to this guy or have anything bad happen. And then he yelled calling us “bitches” for not even acknowledging his complements. My roommate and I nearly stopped, looked at each other, our eyes getting bigger and trying to hold back screaming and swearing at him.

Instead we kept going.

It’s better not get into trouble because people know what happens when you try to confront a guy like that – you either end up in the police station, hospital, or possibly even dead.

For weeks after that my roommate and I could not stop talking about what happened that night. Not only do some guys have no respect, but they just want a reaction, they just want trouble.

As for his “compliments,” no matter how many times you call it a complement, a catcall is and will never be a complement.

Since arriving in Boston, my friends and I can tell many stories of disgusting men yelling at us, pointing at us like we’re not human.

The best way to deal with these guys is to just keep moving on, not to look back or make any comments. Some times we are so shocked we can’t even say a word, either because of how disturbing a comment was or by how weird the comment was.

It’s not every day you get bird-called rather than catcalled

My friend and I had our space bubble invaded when a guy walked up to us in the Prudential Center to gobble (or some sound like that) at us. While we thought this was even a little bit comical, it became evident the man should not be taken lightly after we watched him do the same thing to another woman, but this time he followed her. And then we watched security tackle him. It takes a lot for the security team at the Prudential Center to actually escort someone out, let alone full on tackle someone in the middle of the center in front of dozens and dozens of people.

Boston for the most part is an extremely friendly city, especially during the summer when there are less college students everywhere. Unfortunately, though, I have found myself growing a bit uneasy recently, not because of cat callers, but for reasons related to three people I came across.

The first, a man sitting outside of Fenway Park. Normally, the people who ask for money and spare change are very nice and love talking with people. Well, I hadn’t seen this guy before, but it was clear I would not even look at him, let alone talk to him. The man was holding a sign asking for money so he could “get drunk and get molested by two women.” I don’t think I have to explain how uncomfortable and wrong that sign is.

The other two people I came across were concert goers – a boyfriend and girlfriend. Boston Calling Music Festival is an incredible time. When you are against the barricade, you quickly become friends with the people around you and you do your best to protect each other. My newfound friends, including a group of high school students, a security guard, and some event photographers, and I did not think we would have to deal with a situation quite like what happened.

The man and his girlfriend, both in their mid or upper twenties, started thrusting on one of the fifteen year old girls. They groped her and muttered comments. We had already warned our friendly security guard when the couple first came up to our section, but it was only a few minutes later that we had to scream for him to come back. We grabbed our friend from them and got her room in the front next to us.

We tried confronting the guy and his girlfriend, find out why they thought it was a good idea to assault someone, let alone a minor. Well, it backfired and the guy started attacking us. One of our photographer friends tried to calm down the 15-year-old while a few others tried to take photos of the man and his girlfriend. I bet before that, Disclosure never had to watch their front row scream for security to try and find two people who should really be arrested for assaulting a minor, and I know for a fact Howard Lawrence of Disclosure looked at us and saw that there was something wrong.

It has been about a year since I first came to Boston, and the disrespect to girls and women still amazes me. What’s even worse, is friends from places like Atlanta, Georgia, say that Boston is wonderful compared to where they’re from.

In some ways, I miss my town, despite all of its problems. Although they make up for it in other ways, at least they have enough decency not to catcall or do some of the other unwelcoming things I’ve found in Boston.