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Hollering in El Alto could make you feel naked no matter how well clothed you are. But keep your chin up. By walking with confidence you’ve already demanded respect.
It’s summer and the outfits are hot. Let the hollering begin.
This week I wore a skirt. Please understand, it was a skirt of normal length that sat just above the knee. I paired it with a simple black top and out the door I went to conquer the day.
I didn’t do much conquering before I encountered my daily serving of hollering. The sometimes-loud, very-much-in-your-face ‘compliments’ that fellow male Alto residents offers us Alto ladies in a swift group of words: “Yo, Ma, can I get your number?” or “Damn girl, you fine.” Sometimes it’s a car honk, a rolling of the window to deliver a stare that could make you feel naked, no matter how well clothed you are.
I call it a daily serving because it happens all the time, it happens to me, my friends, and to women of all shapes and sizes all across the City. But in El Alto, there is a raised level of intensity to the hollering; a more aggressive approach that sometimes leads to inevitable discomfort and a speedier walk up the street.
Better put your poker face on; get prepared to not be phased by the comments. My dear ladies, chin up, back straight and keep it moving. By walking with confidence you’ve already demanded respect
See, this issue goes much deeper. It’s a matter of respect for women, a reminder that our mothers, caretakers, abuelas [grandmas], and families have taught us to respect ourselves, and others, but also to demand respect from our surroundings.
In a conversation I once had with Rosita Romero, Executive Director at the Dominican Women’s Development Center (DWDC, or El Centro, as it is commonly referred to locally) she told me that women are sacred, that we should be cherished, but sometimes we forget to teach our daughters to feel that way, and our sons to treat women that way.
The outfit we are wearing should not determine the way we are treated. We should be conscious of the way we carry ourselves, acknowledge that there is a place and time for each outfit. Whether we’re wearing a plunging neckline or a business suit, our outfits don’t determine our right to respect.
It’s an issue that’s engrained in our culture, and often validated by popular culture. The music I love to dance to sometimes include the lyrics that encourage this type of behavior. The hip-hop I live by doesn’t call me a woman, it calls me other things not appropriate for print, but I still bop my head and listen to it on my way to work. Yet it doesn’t make us less respectable, less intelligent, or less refined.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the men of El Alto who are gentlemen. Men who embody the chivalry that our abuelos [grandpas] were masters of, men who give a compliment more along the lines of “How many sugars with your coffee, beautiful?” I find comfort in knowing that these men still exist and will raise a generation of equally respectful children.
We live with this in our neighborhood, but we don’t have to. The lack of respect towards women is an issue that begins at home and carries out onto our streets. It’s a concept that our young girls are growing up with, and allowing them to think that it’s the norm is unacceptable.
Next time you holler at us Alto ladies, consider the possibilities. We’re women, sacred beings deserving of love, respect, and a compliment. Deliver a nice one.
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