I’ve been subjected to bad things ever since I was a child.
It started with the bullying I’d get at school,
Because of my thin body and dark skin.

I entered the women’s metro car, and as usual, found men there.
Usually I fight them, but that day I wasn’t feeling well, so I said nothing.

I just couldn’t wait to grow up to be a man.
Whenever I’d see women waiting in line in front of the kiosk,
I’d go press myself up against their bodies.
The most any of them would do was just walk away.

I was taking a walk with two friends,
When I looked behind us,
And saw a man catcalling us from afar.
I kept an eye on him,
Until he caught up and started walking beside me.
He kept saying disgusting things.
Then he said, “I want to marry all three of you.”
harassment; the street, friendship

When I first started wearing those pants,
The way people looked at me changed.

Inside me,
Is a man called Mohamed.
He comes out in different situations.
Like when Sara goes out alone,
Or goes out with her girl friends.

I teach the first grade.
I make them go to the bathroom in groups.
One day, a boy told me,
“Ms., someone from sixth grade took a boy to the toilet,
And did bad things to him.”

I was driving across the May 15th Bridge on my way to Alef Bookstore. All of a sudden, I was bombarded with catcalls from a car full of seemingly drunk guys. It’s okay; this happens.

All of a sudden, a car closed in on me, and I fell off my bike.
One of my knees hurt. I decided to walk back to the starting point.
I left the bike with them and turned back.
That’s when the comments started.
“You fell down, sweetheart? I wish I were that bike.”

One time, I was followed by a tok tok driver who shouted all sorts of obscenities at me.
“You’re disgusting”, was all I managed to muster.