I love walking through cities at night, I mean really love it: the cool air on my skin, the reflection of car headlights on the wet pavement, the clouds that form in front of me every time I exhale. Walking down Mendocino Avenue at 7:30 p.m., cold flushing through my veins, I feel invincible.

All it takes is one loud and obnoxious catcall from a passing vehicle and my confidence begins to fade and fear takes over. Everything I’ve been taught tells me to shrug it off; it’s nothing more than a compliment. But the uncomfortable sensation in my gut is nothing like the warm giddiness I feel when receiving a compliment. It’s enough to make me grip my cell phone a little tighter and walk a little faster, robbed of the freedom and confidence I felt.

It turns out there’s a term for the catcalls, wolf whistles and verbal assaults most women (and a few men) endure on a regular basis. It’s called street harassment, and it has nothing to do with flattery and everything to do with a lack of respect for womens’ bodies.

Street harassment is a broad term that includes leers, vulgar gestures, inappropriate comments and stalking. It’s a slippery slope from a seemingly harmless comment to something as serious as rape or murder.
In modern society we fail to recognize street harassment for what it really is—harassment. Sadly, it often begins around puberty. In a 2008 study of 811 women conducted by the online resource center Stop Street Harassment, almost one in four women said they had experienced street harassment by age 12. The tender age of first kisses, first bras and first periods should not coincide with one’s first experience of sexual harassment, yet I and many other women can confirm that number is perfectly accurate.

Walking home the other day, I groaned as a carload of 20-something men slowed down at a stoplight and delivered a stream of impolite remarks, the mildest of which was “Work that, li’l mama.” Luckily for me, these gentlemen remained within their vehicle and their comments ended as soon as the traffic light turned green. My fear is that it’s only a matter of time before someone who makes a habit of verbally assaulting women gives physical assault a try.

Even if the harassment remains verbal, it causes plenty of emotional damage and confusion. Street harassment reinforces the idea that a woman’s body is not her own, but merely an object for other people to gawk at and drool over. “Shake that ass.” “Work that body.” These aren’t compliments. They’re negative messages that endanger women’s safety and give men a skewed idea of how they should treat women.

We need to stop teaching young women that street harassment is a compliment and start teaching young men that derogatory comments are no way to address a woman, or anyone, for that matter.

I would like to wear a short skirt in summertime (heck, any time) without being whistled at by men twice my age. I would like to have compliments spoken directly to my face, not shouted at my back. I would not like to ever have to put my purple belt in Aikido to the test.

In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy my walks in the cool night air, and hope that someday I will be able to do so free of fear and humiliation.