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writing-art/memoir
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It was just an ordinary morning, in fact it was a Wednesday. I hopped on the crowded train headed to school. As I stepped on I did my routine scan for seats and found none. I looked for people who might be getting up before the train reached the city (a practice based on the movements of the people in the seats) and still no seats so, I decided I would lean on the door and listen to my headphones to pass the time. I watched as a flood of people entered the car, but hardly any got off. I closed my eyes and let the music take me away and forgot about my incumbent school day and the mundane train ride. When I finally opened my eyes I spotted a slightly over weight man. He towered an entire two inches over my 5'9 frame. He wore a baseball cap and worn out clothing. His hands appeared to be dry and rough, as if he was a construction worker. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and dismissed him as one of the everday strangers on the subway. |
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| As the train doors opened
and people exited, the entering crowd began to shuffle on. The train was
still crowded, but not as tight. Again, I opened my eyes and searched
for empty seats. But there weren't any so, I continued to stand in the
same spot. But before I could delve back in to the sweet somber of my
headphones, the same heavy set man caught my eye, this time I got a better
look at his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and his creamy complexion
looked like fermenting milk. To put it plainly he looked like he was deteriorating.
When we approcahed the next stop, more people got off, and the train became even more spacious and breathable. The stranger moved closer to me as if he was getting off the train. The train rocked back and forth, as it went from one express stop to the next. The rocking made the crowd move slightly back and forth like a seasick ferry ride. As the crowd shifted the stranger next to me exaggerated his movements, and proceeded to rub himself on my side. Initially shocked, I quickly calmed down and thought for a second that my imagination was making this into something it was not. I felt him get closer, but still just to be sure I violently took off the left side of my headphones to make sure they hit him in his face. He moved back slightly as my headphones just barely brushed his nose, and for a brief moment stood away from me. I was pissed, hurt, and annoyed all at the same time. I thought he might have stopped but he didn't, The next train stop he again moved closer and continued his unwanted physical advances. |
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| I looked the other way and tried to
pretend it wasn't happening. I searched the crowd for someone who could
help me, save me, for someone who could be my hero. But when his advances
became unbearable, I turned around told him to back up! He looked at me
shocked with guilt in his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.
He ran from my car into the next one. Now not only was I furious with him but with myself. I leaned on the train door and fought back tears. I had always thought myself to be strong and assertive but at that moment I had shown nothing but weakness. It didn't make sense I was angry, yet I did nothing. When I finally sat down small tears ran from my eyes. I realized this wasn't the first time I had been harassed on the train, but I didn't know nor did I understand why this incident was so hurtful. Needless to say, he ruined my morning and made me question my abilities to protect my own rights and feelings. |
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Leaning back, I began to remember horror stories girls have told me
about their own incidents. At the time they were either comical or so
bizarre it was hard to think that stuff like that really went on. I
thought about all the harrassment I had witnessed first hand. I remembered
seeing a women being violated on the train and how she cried out when
a man rubbed himself on her and nobody came to her aid. A friend once
told me that a man had once become erect and kept rocking back and forth
in front of her face. Another time a man masturbated in front of my
sister and myself, while staring at us intensely and one time a man
rubbed his crotch on my leg, but quickly stopped when I looked back
abruptly. I share this tale not to incriminate every man who rides public transportation, but to say to women all over , that this sort of thing has happened to many and it must stop. We must not be afraid to stick up for ourseleves. This behavior will countine to happen until we fight back. |
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