Catcalled in the Philippines: This Ends Now
A recent online trend, #MeToo, in which women across the globe share their personal experiences of being sexually harassed or abused, has been steadily picking up the pace with over half a million stories (and counting!) posted across Twitter and Facebook. The trend was started way back in 2014 by Tarana Burke for the March Against Rape Culture movement in Philadelphia, and this year American actress Alyssa Milano has rekindled the use of the said hashtag: encouraging more women to continue speaking up. It didn’t take long for the trend to reach the Philippines, and I have compiled entries shared by my friends, including my personal experience as well.
What’s remarkable about these stories is that the more you read, the more you will notice how many forms harassment takes. How did such a problem become rampant, and who is to blame? Is it the short skirts women wear, or male entitlement that persists until today? More often than not, street harassment flies under the radar of the law because it’s not considered as grave as the sexual harassment defined in R.A. 7877, or better known as the Anti-sexual Harassment Act of 1995. R.A. 7877 only provides for harassment encountered in the workplace or school, and that the act must be done by the employer, teacher, or any person with moral ascendancy over the harassed.
There's also R.A. 9262, the Anti-violence against Women and their Children Act of 2004, which although addresses a wider variety of harassment, but still does not fully include street-level harassment. This is why the recently passed Anti-catcalling Ordinance in Quezon City is important, because it gives women the power to fight back against street-level harassment.
Street-level harassment, defined
To begin with, what is street-level harassment? And what has the law done so far to address it? While there is still no standardized definition for the term, an organization called Stop Street Harassment has put together a working definition as of March 2015:
"Gender-based street harassment is unwanted comments, gestures, and actions forced on a stranger in a public place without their consent and are directed at them because of their actual or perceived sex, gender, gender expression, or sexual orientation. Street harassment includes unwanted whistling, leering, sexist, homophobic or transphobic slurs, persistent requests for someone’s name, number or destination after they’ve said no, sexual names, comments and demands, following, flashing, public masturbation, groping, sexual assault, and rape."
From this, we can then classify what counts as street-level harassment and what doesn’t. For example, you whistle at your girlfriend who’s standing across the street and she responded with a smile: is that considered as catcalling? No, it’s not. A beautiful girl you don’t know wearing a tight pencil skirt that accentuates her curves walks by and you whistle at her, but she doesn’t seem to like what you just did by walking a little faster to get away from you: is that catcalling? Yes.
As a woman I can attest to the fact that most (if not all) of us do not find such gestures as compliments, and to the men who do this, we do not owe it to you to thank you for “appreciating our beauty.” We don't need your affirmation to justify our existence. I find that these situations aren’t given much weight because street-level harassment has been normalized, which makes it more dangerous. To finally have this issue addressed would certainly validate the fear that women feel whenever they walk alone out in the streets.What’s so hard to understand about street-level harassment that many men still do not get why it’s wrong? Coleen O’Leary writes:
“Men do not often experience street harassment, resulting in their inability to recognize the harmful nature of street harassment. This then reinforces the invisible nature of men’s dominance over women and their ability to act upon women without restrictions. Because men are not normally victims of such harassment, they are likely to interpret women’s experiences of street harassment as isolated events.”
I find truth in this statement, as young girls are often taught by their parents to adopt ways to prevent being harassed: that we shouldn’t wear clothes that are too revealing, that we shouldn’t walk alone at night, that we shouldn’t draw too much attention to ourselves when in public. It’s us on whom the burden of responsibility falls, and that the moment harassment happens to us, people automatically assume we are to blame: that it’s our fault for not being careful, that we asked for it. This thinking only fosters the idea that men aren’t to be held accountable for their actions.
Real women with real experiences
Below is a short collection of stories I have gathered from my friends with their consent:
Rogin:
I don’t even consider myself to be “pretty”. I’ve always seen myself like that even as a child, so imagine my surprise when I realized that that’s not the case. Sexual harassment doesn’t choose [its victims]. Probably my worst experience was when I went to an “ukay” in Taytay. I was by myself and was asked what my age was, I said I was 17. The two men who were selling to me said, “this will do.” Until they forced me to give them my [phone] number. Mind you, they looked about 30 years old. They won’t let me leave until I give them my number. That also happened with the other store I went to. They won’t stop pestering me until I give them my number, they also didn’t want to give me the bag I wanted to buy until I said yes to whatever they’re asking. The street leading to and from the store in Taytay was dark, so I was really shocked when I was followed out. Two men who were taller than me, obviously stronger. I just kept running until I saw a security guard. I ran to a crowded place, the nearest was McDonald’s. I was so ashamed of thinking that the safest place I could have gone to was the place where you can buy a Happy Meal. I called my mom immediately and explained what happened. While waiting for her outside McDonald’s, the two men saw me from across the street. They called my attention. I said no, but they approached me. Good thing my dad arrived. I told the story to my mom. She blamed me for wearing short sleeves in that kind of place. I wasn’t even wearing shorts, I was wearing a long skirt. I didn’t know that my worth as a woman depended on my clothes. So yes, #MeToo. Will this go anywhere? I hope so. But this really happens. Promise. What’s scary is that it’s getting worse that it seems normal.
Raia:
That feeling when I was having a good first day back at work until some guy outside my office tried to look up my skirt. #MeToo
Cee:
Still can’t believe that one time I got catcalled INSIDE A SHOPPING MALL. You’d think it’s a safe place because it’s indoors. Just because I passed by a little too close (there were a lot of people that day and it was rather crowded). I don’t want to remember what he specifically said but it was something like, “Come home with me, sweetheart.” To this day I still feel disgusted. #MeToo
Mar:
I took a trike to get to my gym from home (it’s only three blocks). I get down a block away and right beside the trike behind an electrical post I noticed a man hiding--he was peeing. So I made sure to ignore him and place myself over 6 ft from where the crossing was just to get a good distance without losing my peripheral vision of him. The trike driver also noticed the guy and from where I could (sorta) see him he was at this point when he was directly staring at me, his penis still sticking the f*** out. See I’m a little b**** about pedestrian crossing and never go on a red light but before I knew it, the guy disappears from my view and the trike driver stops in front of me and goes, “Miss, you can cross the road now--” Then hurriedly shouts “hurry, cross now!” So I jump into the street and was almost hit by a car but didn’t look back ‘til I got to the other side. When I did, I turned to see the trike driver gone but the man still penis in hand, standing where I was 2 seconds ago. Thank you Mr Trike Driver for looking out for a random stranger. I’m sorry Mr Car, it’s my fault you almost hit me as I ran at a red light. F*** you pervert, for thinking you can just f***ing go near me. And I’m not the only woman who experiences this often, too! In fact, a part of me wishes I went back to kick him in the bare nuts coz this isn’t my first street rodeo and I’m so tired of this s*** happening all the f***ing time that it makes me want to beat people up. #MeToo
Mika:
I was walking home after rehearsals at CCP. It was around 11pm. The area was reasonably lit and beside two high end gated communities. I had no reason to expect I would be groped by a random person, who even laughed after I broke free and yelled at him. I ran to the village’s guard to report the incident (just a few feet away) and the guard told me, “let it go, ma’am, you didn’t get hurt.” And I don’t like recounting the fact that one of the main reasons why I left my very first ballet school was because a senior guest artist was sending me (17 yrs old then) incredibly inappropriate and lewd messages. I don’t even know how he got my number, I certainly didn’t give it. (Fortunately, we never crossed paths ever again.) There are other stories, other men. If all the people who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote “Me, too” as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem. #MeToo
Anne:
I was working the night shift when this happened. I was walking home late at night, and I was less than a kilometer away from my own house when a man in a motorcycle drove towards me and stopped right in my path, blocking my way. He looked at me and said, “Get on, babe. I’ll take you home.” When he had done that, there was no one on the street, except for the two of us. Luckily, a barangay tanod started patrolling nearby and my eyes immediately went to him. He must have noticed the tanod’s arrival too because he left immediately, and I walked as fast as I could home.
And finally, my own:
I was with my friend whom I accompanied to buy pet supplies in Cartimar, when, on our way back to the LRT, a man who looks like he did his own supply run as well, approached us and asked for my number. He also asked for my name, which I refused to give, and I repeatedly shook my head to say “no” to everything he was asking. He continued to walk with us, which was already making me worry for our safety. I wasn’t even alone and yet this man still had the gall to pursue us. He kept on pestering me for my number and asked if we can be “textmates”, and I repeatedly said, “No, I’m not interested.” The man didn’t look like he was from around here. He looked and sounded Indian/Middle Eastern. My friend and I tried our best to walk faster, almost to a run, in the hopes of losing him in the crowd. We made our way into the LRT station when I noticed the man turned out to be not too far behind. I grabbed my friend as we hurriedly entered the train. I was only able to feel some relief when the train doors closed and we left the station.
The list could go on but the message remains the same: harassment doesn’t choose its victims. It’s not the clothes, not the “prettiness”, not the time nor the place. It’s male entitlement. As Libby Allnatt wrote in The State Press:
“There are a number of factors that contribute to this problem. Examples of rape culture are abundant. But rape culture doesn’t always mean the act of rape itself. It refers to the societal ideas that trivialize sexual assault and normalize male dominance over women. Contributions to sexual assault are often subtle, and they usually involve feelings of entitlement to another person’s body and treatment of women as sexual objects… Unwarranted touching of another person means valuing your gratification over his or her comfort. Regarding sex as something to “get” from girls reduces women to mere objects and denies their humanity. An important step in ending sexual entitlement is eliminating the outdated model of men as predators and women as prey…”
This now brings us to how the law could be used as a tool to help put an end to this problem, by giving women something to count on by penalizing acts that constitute as street-level harassment.
The Anti-catcalling Ordinance
The ordinance was introduced by Councilor Lena Marie Juico and approved by City Council on March 7. It was signed into law a few months later by Quezon City Mayor Herbert Bautista on May 16 last year. It is the first local government in the country to penalize the street-level harassment of women, aiming to “change the cultural mindset of males toward females while empowering women at the same time.” Under the measure, the following are now prohibited:
- Light violations, such as cursing, catcalling, repeatedly asking the subject for a date or her contact number, or taunting a woman with constant talk about sex, which tend to ridicule, humiliate or embarrass the woman, are punishable with a fine of from Php 1,000 to Php 5,000 or a jail term of up to one month.
- Stalking, making an offensive mouth, hand or body gestures with the intention to demean or threaten a woman are considered medium violations with the same range of penalties.
- Severe violations include acts such as unnecessary touching, pinching or brushing against the subject’s body; public masturbation or lascivious exhibition directed at a woman, and inserting any object into the genitalia, anus or mouth of any person whether of the same or opposite sex.
For a third offense, persons who commit light and medium violations will be jailed for 11 up to 30 days or asked to pay a fine of Php 5,000 while those who commit severe violations will be jailed from six months up to a year. These penalties were the maximum allowed under the Local Government Code.
This is a huge step forward in the right direction, even inspiring online petitions for other cities, such as Manila, to follow its lead. Although the passing of the ordinance sparked arguments online, the need for it actually exists--as Quezon City itself isn’t perceived to be one of the safest cities in the metro. In an article for Rappler, Fritzie Rodriguez reports:
88% of respondents ages 18 to 24 experienced sexual harassment at least once. Thirty-four percent of them experienced the "worst forms" of sexual harassment: flashing, public masturbation, and groping. Across all ages, 12 to 55 and above, wolf-whistling and catcalling are the most experienced cases… Such abuses can happen on the streets, in and around public transportation, schools and workplaces, public washrooms, and other public spaces. In the Philippines, 58% of such incidents happen on the streets, major roads, and eskinitas. Physical forms of sexual harassment occur mostly in public transport. Other reported areas are the church, internet shops, parks, stores and malls, school grounds, and terminals and waiting sheds. In fact, 1 in 7 of the surveyed women experienced sexual harassment at least once every week in the past year. Victims, according to UN Women, may bear psychological impacts such as anxiety, fear, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder.
What’s more alarming is that the perpetrators of such abuse are mostly complete strangers, comprising at least seventy percent of the responses. Additionally, a majority of these incidents happen in daylight, with only four percent reported occurring during nighttime.
I see no reason for this law to not exist: it’s a long overlooked issue that’s finally being addressed and I believe something like this should be magnified into a nationwide scale. To the naysayers who claim that it’s not necessary, funny that these are the same people who are usually on the side perpetrating the abuse.
To end, let me share this story by my good friend Reina as a testament to the ordinance at work. She writes:
Before the Anti-Catcalling Ordinance, I remembered saying that for all the time I spent fielding catcallers in Manila, I’d been catcalled more times in the three months since I moved back to Quezon City than in the five years I stayed in Manila.
One time, a man followed me home from a random pedestrian crossing, only stopping when he realized I had entered a military camp and he wouldn’t be able to give the gatekeepers any reason for him being there. That same week, a security guard at the Araneta Center jeepney terminal catcalled me and I had no idea what to say. At that time, I felt overwhelmingly powerless at the reality that I couldn’t report harassment to the authorities because the authorities were the harassers.
It was in QC that I really felt that harassment was a threat to my safety instead of merely a nuisance, and I got tired of just letting it happen without a word. The first time I responded to a catcaller, I was with a friend and we had just crossed the street from Camp Aguinaldo to wait for a jeep to Cubao. A truck driver was stuck in traffic by the pedestrian lane, and he said something along the lines of, “Hi, miss!”
And I shouted back, “Tangina mo!” (“Fuck you!”) The truck driver was shocked. And it was that look on his face that stayed with me, that moment when he realized that he couldn’t do that to girls and expect that they were just going to accept it forever. That moment cemented my resolve to keep clapping back at catcallers--provided I could do it safely, of course.
Later on, I thought about how it wasn’t enough to just say “Tangina mo!” A mere burst of anger did not a good call-out make; the harasser needed to know what I was holding him accountable for, what behavior I was pinpointing as bad. After that, my default response to catcallers became, “Tangina mo, bastos ka!” (“Fuck you, you’re perverted!”)
Fast forward to this August, I was walking to Cubao Expo with another friend. A man was by the entrance, eating a midday snack. As we approached, the man made eye contact with me, grinned, and said, “Hi, honey.”
By now, the response was reflex: “Tangina mong bastos ka!” (“Fuck you, you pervert!”) But that day I was feeling a little more feisty than usual, compounded by the facts that it was broad daylight and I had a similarly tough friend with me. So I went with my instinct to take a threatening step towards the man and keep shouting at him: “Ano, ha? Honey-honey ka dyan? Tangina mo, bastos ka!” (“What, who’re you calling honey? Fuck you, you pervert!”)
His face took on the same expression as the truck driver's--s-hock at my audacity to fight back, panic at being the center of attention of everybody in earshot, humiliation at having his ego shattered and being exposed as a harasser. He picked up his food and scurried away.
That was a particularly triumphant moment, but it wasn’t over yet. A man in the Araneta Center maintenance staff uniform approached me and asked what was the matter. I replied, “Binastos po niya ako.” (“He harassed me.”) For a split-second I felt a moment of apprehension--if he dismissed what I was shouting about, I felt like I could shout at him too. Instead, he said, “Gusto niyo, ma’am, ipahuli natin para madala?” (“Would you like us to apprehend him, ma’am, so he’ll learn his lesson?”) Of course I said YES.
And they really tried! The maintenance staff man pulled out his walkie-talkie and got someone to try and run after the harasser while we followed at a brisk walk. The whole time, he explained to me that that kind of behavior was no longer tolerated within Araneta Center, and if that ever happened to me again I should call the attention of the Araneta Center staff or security, and they would be obliged to help me.That was a significant step-up from being catcalled by an Araneta Center guard at the jeepney terminal!
Sadly, in the end, the harasser got away. He must have turned the corner out onto Aurora Boulevard and disappeared because the security and maintenance staff came back empty-handed. They apologized and asked if that was okay. I said, “Siyempre hindi okay sa akin na binastos niya ako, pero okay na po sa akin na ginawa naman natin lahat [para mahuli siya].” (“Of course it’s not okay with me that he harassed me, but I’m okay with the fact that we did everything we could to catch him.”) I thanked them, shook hands, and we all went our own ways.
I think it worth mentioning that I used to work in a big-name call center in Araneta Center, and at one point my manager catcalled me within the office. I tried to report the incident to Human Resources, expecting that I would be protected by our company policies against sexual harassment. Instead, I was met with doubt and victim-blaming by the ladies at HR, so I swallowed my shame and let it go.
I find it ironic that the same thing could happen to me on the streets with vastly different results. On the streets, I called out a harasser and the burly, rough maintenance men responded immediately and didn’t hesitate for a second. And not once did they ever suggest that my appearance or my clothing had invited that behavior.
While I feel a tinge of regret that we didn’t catch the harasser, I feel like a bigger victory had been won by the fact that people believed what happened to me and believed that his actions deserved retribution. For certain, it feels as degrading and infuriating as it ever did to be catcalled. But the mere knowledge that in my city, the law recognizes my right to safety as a woman, no longer makes me feel powerless.
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(Note: This piece was originally written as a paper for my Legal Philosophy class. I wanted more people to be able to read this hence publishing it here in my blog and adapting it into an article.)
