Opinion: Catcalling isn’t a compliment
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I can still vividly remember the first time someone catcalled me from a moving car. I was about 14 years old and enjoying an unexpected Portland snow day with my friends when some jerk yelled something obscene at us from his compensating-for-something truck. We were wearing snow pants, and I know for a fact that we looked like kids. Our conversation was cut short, and we all nervously laughed for a second because we didn’t know what else to do. My hands were shaking in my pockets.
As gross as that moment was, it was almost validating for me at the time, which disgusts me now. I wasn’t a particularly cute kid, and I was acutely aware of it. I was dealing with braces bulging out of my mouth and completely untameable hair, all while experimenting with awkward fashion statements and trying to figure out who I was. I was starting to want more positive attention for my appearance but found none.
At the same time, I constantly heard my friends complain about annoying guys with crushes on them and tell stories about being catcalled on the way home from school. The only conclusion I could draw was that I was unspeakably ugly and must look like a gawky monster next to them, so naturally, I was awash with jealousy. More than anything else, I wanted people to see that I was “pretty” the same way. I was sure I wanted the same attention.
When I polled my friends on social media about the age they had first been catcalled, the oldest was 15, and the youngest (unfortunately reported by multiple people) was just 10. Most hovered in the 12-13 range. Many noted that since becoming adults and attending college, they experience it far less frequently. It’s completely unacceptable to catcall adult women, but objectifying preteens is just vile.
My experience is a little bit different from that of my friends. I could count on one hand the number of times people hit on or harassed me when I was underage. In contrast, I’ve had countless afternoon walks ruined by catcalling here in Eugene, and I’ve learned to hate the sinking feeling of realizing someone I see as a potential new friend only wants something romantic or sexual from me. Maybe it’s because I’m more confident in myself now or because I’m in a happy relationship, but the unwanted attention seems to be everywhere now that I’m not craving it.
UO junior Olivia Duff shares many of my experiences, explaining that “at first, you might think it’s a compliment” when you’re a kid before you realize the real implications. “When you do, it’s like, where is this coming from?” Duff said.
She recounted to me a period when, as a college student, she was catcalled and followed home for three days in a row, noting how unsafe street harassment made her feel. In her case, she pretended to have a relative on the Eugene police force that she could call at any moment.
For Duff, the bottom line is that we as a society need to put an end to this unsafety. “As a woman, being catcalled or objectified or taken advantage of is one of the most terrifying experiences, and it needs to stop,” Duff said.
Looking back on my early teenage experiences as an adult, I’m so mad that I was made to feel that my worth derived from whether some strange older man on the street found me attractive. I hate that women are made to compete for male attention as a mark of success (because obviously the most important thing a woman can be is beautiful and sought-after, right?) when none of us asked for it in the first place. I’m sick of the whole concept of beauty being tied to self-worth, but it’s even worse when that worth is imposed by someone speeding down the street, so I can’t defend myself from it. There’s no reason street harassment should still be going on, and it’s time for us to demand to be acknowledged not as sex objects but as people.