The Fear Women Face on Public Transport
Tara Harrison,
Constantly aware of the uncomfortable eyes on me and hoping to not be approached. I sit on the single-seat next to the stairs. I don’t like people sitting next to me.
No one likes when the trains crowded, and everyone is squeezed together and there’s no room for anyone to get up at their station without brushing past shoulders or squeezing by passengers who stood in the aisles because all the seats were full.
I don’t like full trains. I don’t like strangers coming up and sitting next to me, when they sit too close or look at me. I’m scared when I’m on the train, uncomfortable. When a stranger sits next to me and I look around to find rows of empty seat they could’ve chosen. When I have to gather my things to get up and pretend the upcoming station is mine, only to quickly turn and go upstairs onto the above carriage. When I feel their eyes follow me as I walk, follow me as I get off the train and I can see them through the windows still staring.
“There was a man who stared at her for what felt like an eternity… She moved to the other side of the train; he kept staring. Finally, he got up, moved towards her seat and banged on the plexiglass barrier next to her seat several times, seemingly to alarm her, before exiting the train.” (Powers, 2018).
Even worse, when it’s not just their eyes following me; when they move with me into a new carriage or get off at my station. I feel nervous and sweaty and shaky. I feel paranoid. I feel bad, guilty as if I’m accusing an innocent person who’s not doing anything wrong outside my own delusions.
And then they touch me. Their hand on my thigh or pressed against my back at the door. Or leant forward on the seat behind me to press their face close to the back of my head or my neck. To smell me, to sneer or ogle, or grope. Grope me or grope themselves.
“I’m always aware of it, every time I catch the train, I’m on guard.” My 17-year-old friend, Chloe said.
I’m on guard too. Because I know I’m alone, even in a carriage full of people, there is no one to help me but myself. It’s a dog-eat-dog world apparently, every man for himself. Every woman for herself. Every child.
“She wished someone had stepped in to come to her defence as she floundered in her attempts to ask him to leave her alone. There were plenty of people around… but no one said anything.” A quote by a girl named Megan, sharing her story. (Powers, 2018).
“These experiences that happen very early on — because they’re so dramatic they make you so scared — they have quite a lot of impact. They may taint your use of public transportation and public settings for a very, very long time,” Quoted Loukaitou-Sideris. (Powers, 2018)
There is a way in which I’m not alone. I’m not alone in the fact that it’s just me. I’d ask my friends, tell my teacher’s, my mum — and it’s all of them. They’ve all experienced what I’ve experienced. As a woman on public transport, we’re not comfortable, and we’re not safe. And I’d bet if you asked your sister, your mother, your wife, your friends… your child, they’d likely say the same thing too. Women are vulnerable and preyed on every day on trains, at bus stops, at stations. It goes beyond just a women’s issue but extending further — a civil rights issue. An issue of equal access. (Powers, 2017).
“A depressing but foregone conclusion: If you’re a woman who rides public transportation, you’re almost guaranteed to experience the kinds of demeaning or threatening encounters that fit squarely within the bounds of the #MeToo conversation.” (Powers, 2017).
I live in Sydney, Australia, I grew up here, I work here and I go to school here. I’ve never questioned how safe my city is, I’ve never thought of myself in danger. Of course, I don’t walk around at night alone, and I never go anywhere without at least one person knowing where I am or without my phone. The usual precautions every women and girl follow without a second thought. It’s a sad reality all over the world. But since I started commuting to school via train, I’ve noticed I’m a lot more alert. A lot more aware of eyes on me, and a lot more nervous around men. And I know it’s because of the multiple bad experiences I’ve dealt with on public transport.
Fighting against harassment on public transport and fighting for its change is not a new movement, and many have come up with resolutions and precautions that are desperately needed. Small steps that include better lighting in dark stations and bus stops for safety. More staff that know how to and will deal with situations, to do a better job responding. For Incidents to be logged to provide data on the where’s, when’s, how’s and who’s, so that repeat offenders have better chances of being caught (Powers, 2018). Institutional changes such as clarity laws to aid law enforcement in responding to incidents (Legena, 2018) as well as the presence of said law enforcement or security in peak hour crowded stations or trains as deterrence. Further measures in areas of high reported harassment such as spaces and onhand services.
“It is important to create systems where women are encouraged to report harassment or assault that they experience on public transit — and to feel confident that their accounts won’t be belittled or ignored.” (Powers, 2017).
Outside of structural design change, social change can be the most impactful. A lot more can be done towards prevention in the future. Challenging toxic masculinity and empowering bystanders (Legena, 2018) can create safer communities with fewer offenders and more protection. Through targeting younger generations in classrooms and teaching them. Through educating offenders. Advertisement on platforms and public transport; hotline phone numbers for help. Mental health services should be more available and pushed for, most offenders don’t require punishment, but rather help. Prioritising the protection of passengers and the safety of our local community is the number one goal.
All anyone wants is to feel safe, safe for themselves and their loved ones. The high number of harassment on public transport is even higher than we know. Incidences left unreported, ignored or dismissed lowering both the statistic and the trust in the system.
