I was sexually harassed inside my house,
By someone very close to me.

Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.

When I first started work, I used to talk to the clients in a very professional manner, saying "sir" and "mister", and I would find them replying with things like, "Sure, beautiful," and "Yes, love."

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 saw a 7-year-old boy physically harassing a girl.
I was confused.
How did the boy know which parts of the woman’s body
to touch?
How? He’s only seven!

Every time I walk down the street
I’m scared some pig will beat me up,
Or throw acid at me,
Or harass me,
Because the look on their faces is terrifying

A bit before we were supposed to meet up, he told me that he didn’t go out a lot, and that it would be best to meet at his place.
I didn’t think much about it.
I thought it impossible for him to do anything untoward.
So, I went.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment

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.”

I heard a girl scream as I ran towards the crowd.
I started pulling people out of the way, trying to reach her, but I was shoved out of the circle of men surrounding her every single time.

The day, since the very beginning, was filled with leery looks, catcalling, men rubbing against me, pestering me, and hands trying to grope me.
Whenever I lean forward to pick something up, everyone starts staring at my breasts.
The first taxi I stopped:
- "Garden City?"
-"Who could possibly say no to a beauty like you?"
-"Let me out here!"