tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023785422091414496.post1470735714880830231..comments2008-06-18T17:06:50.283-07:00Clebbiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09956562001797104096noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7023785422091414496.post-19203611948983902822008-06-18T17:06:00.000-07:002008-06-18T17:06:00.000-07:00Hi Emma--I'm crazy about this article. You've specifically addressed concerns I've been keeping to myself for years as a New Yorker. I've always interpreted it differently, for myself. My bootay's not that huge-arrific. An African-American friend of mine once explained that I was bound to get harassed way more than other women because I look "like I fell off the carriage on the way to the castle." The fact that I'm nothing but a shtetl peasant means bubkiss. According to my friend, I remind men who aren't white of how powerless they feel in this country. The one power they will always have is power over women, because we're physically weaker. And so they resort to threatening me, to make themselves more powerful, and to put me down. Yesterday a guy said as I passed, "Go back to your grave, you fucking dead whore." Like you, my clothes have gotten junkier and less revealing, and when I pass African-American or Latino men I cower in the hopes that they'll leave me alone. I hate myself for what is, undoubtedly, racism. Lately I've started--and only on crowded streets--stopping to talk to the men, explaining how they've made me feel. It may do nothing to change them, but it sure makes me feel better. Thank you so much for this article!victoriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16123319479666488225noreply@blogger.com