As a female living in the heart of Harlem, there is no end to the male attention I receive. That African American men can engage in this particular social interchange so easily, happily and habitually surprises me, since I have spent the majority of my adult life in circles where men barely make eye contact. Talk about culture shock.
On my four block walk to the subway, I am chatted up, given random compliments, stared at, and, last week, 'offered' a 'part' in a movie. As long as these overtures occur before sundown, I usually respond to all attempts with good-natured friendliness.
Guys who wish me a good day get a friendly good day back. Men who offer me movie parts get a 'thank you for the compliment' and a goodbye wave. Starers, my least favorite because they feel a little rude, get a brisk head-nod (I see what you are doing) or a curt hello (I'm not impressed). It may be objectification, but I guess I'm not enough of a feminist to care.
Everyone knows that big city life can make a person feel small, invisible and lonely. The skyscrapers alone are a lesson in humility. Add in living shoulder to shoulder with the richest, most successful people in the world and your calibration of your own worth gets skewed. Doesn't everyone want to be noticed, seen as valuable, worth knowing? Is this one of the many small ways to combat invisibility, and put the lie to the insistent idea that one is not good/rich/pretty/important enough to talk to?
Did I just create a rationale for catcalls as an humanitarian good? Oh dear. Well, back to singing....
wooo wooo. hey there!
ReplyDeletei felt it mostly a humanitarian good while i lived in chicago.
Ha! I love this. I think you're right -- the catcalls are sometimes (most of the time?) better than being ignored. And I also appreciate that these men take a risk with very little hope of reward. But they still take it.
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