TW for street harassment, violence against womenInviting Street Harassment: When ink, piercings, a v

TW for street harassment, violence against womenInviting Street Harassment: When ink, piercings, a vagina and black skin intersectBy Lebohang ‘Nova’ Masango“Nova reflects on the white supremacist capitalist society that expects her to be okay with white women flipping her dresses to see her tattoos, black men who shout out ‘magosha’ and ‘ama-tatoo’ as she walks the streets and black women who ask ‘innocently’ “do you know how beautiful you would look without all of that?” She is ever more adamant that their ignorance and fascination with the body that she loves is their problem and not hers. I’m a black woman. Street harassment is a violence I endure daily. I’m a pierced and tattooed, black woman. The burden of strangers’ leers, remarks, unsolicited physical contact and unwarranted aggression is a rarely spoken violence I contend with in addition. This latter harassment doesn’t come in a package that I can easily categorise (e.g. black men in public spaces) in order to maintain my guard, so I never know when and how it will come at me next. The incident with the white woman is significant because I have always considered Wits University to be my safe space. Although there will always be mutters and gasps as I walk past, I hardly notice and more importantly, I’ve always been guaranteed that I am safe from violence and that the right to my personal space is recognised.My existential conundrum in occupying his body and also transgressing normative constructs of how society perceives it leaves me open to experiencing the worst that humanity has to offer on a normal day. I fight back in whatever way I can. I’m now accustomed to having to conduct my daily affairs ready to shout down men in the street and snatch my limbs away from the grips of strangers. Every day includes me imagining scenarios I might find myself in, creating escape strategies and having my meanest glare ready for quick retaliation. Loved ones often warn that I should just ignore them but I seriously refuse to accept that anyone can disrespect me and walk away, unscathed.I love my body, my skin and every, single choice that I have made in adorning them. I take up space and assert my right to exist as I am, wherever I am. Even when I am walking through the streets of the Johannesburg CBD – a terrifying place to be young, brown-skinned and a woman with a penchant for short shorts – I insist on not covering up. I will not suffer the oppression of my autonomy, in a pointless attempt to control men’s choice to behave violently towards us women. I will live and move as I please. Your ignorance or fascination with my body is your problem. Do not make it mine.”Amazing essay! This is just an excerpt, click here to read the full piece. -- source link

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