“Can I get your number?” – The Ultimate Threat

We have been socialized to feel flattered by people stopping us in the street, catcalling us, asking for our number, or telling us we are too pretty not to smile! Whether it occurs at the gym while you are catching your breath, grabbing a coffee while clearly preoccupied with listening to Cowboy Carter for the 100th time or walking your dog the morning after a night out.

I am new to New York, but I am not new to this kind of attention. On a sunny Saturday afternoon, I ventured to Harlem to get my hair braided at a shop my friend recommended. After two trains, an hour and 16 minutes later, I was just three stops away. I was actively engaged in my reading – All About Love by bell hooks for the second time – when a mid-30s white male entered the train and sat next to me, not too close. I suppose the new water damage my book endured from my bottle on my way here caught his eye, and he asked me what book I was reading. I simply told him the name, and he went on a tangent about a completely unrelated book about endurance and pushing yourself outside your comfort zone to "keep going." This was so random that I ignored most of what he said and kept nodding blankly. I kept an eye on the train's upcoming stops. "Only one more stop!" I thought quietly. Once the man was finished talking, I gathered my things to exit the car. Unbeknownst to me, he had gotten up to follow a few paces behind. Once he caught up, I was startled and quickly scanned the scene, as I have been taught to do, for people, objects, and most importantly, the quickest exit. I did not stop walking. He said, "Sorry when I connect with someone, I have to get their contact information. Can I have your number?" Oh no, Sophia. What are you going to say? Are you going to be attacked if you say no right now? Rho Bashe's viral video flashed into my head, and I was scared.

On Sunday, September 3rd, 2023, Roda Osman, known on social media as Rho Bashe, shared a sickening video with social media that documented her claims of having been bashed in the face with a brick after she refused to give a man her phone number.

"Y’all, this man just hit me in my face with a brick, and all these Black men just watched. This man...grabbed a rock and hit me in my face because I wouldn’t give him my number," she says in the video. Now, in the hospital, she goes on to say, "What have I ever done to anybody in my life to deserve this? I have never done anything in my life to hurt anybody. Literally, a man asked me for my number, and I said 'No.' And he picked up a brick, in front of so many men, and was like, 'What are you going to do?'"

This argument is not about blaming Black men for not protecting this Black woman when she seemingly needed it the most; it is about why she is being vilified and victim-blamed after being assaulted for saying no to a man… And more importantly, it is about why she was attacked.

It is already overwhelming to be a Black woman in this world. The constant unwarranted attention that we receive on a daily basis due to misogyny, adultification, sexualization, and racism is extremely tiring and demoralizing. It shapes our experiences and limits our freedom to exist without constant scrutiny and objectification. Moreover, it exacerbates the vulnerabilities and risks we face daily. This is a direct result of the systemic neglect within both societal and institutional frameworks, which often leaves black women without adequate recognition or justice. To be exposed to violence because of said attention is not new to most. Data from the 2020 National Coalition Against Domestic Violence shows that 45.1% of Black women have experienced intimate partner physical violence. As a result, 31.8% of Black women have experienced one or more of the following impacts: being fearful, concerned for safety, any post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms, injury, need for medical care, housing services, victim advocate services, and/or legal services, missed at least one day of work or school, and contacting a crisis hotline (5). According to the NYC Mayor's Office to End Domestic and Gender-Based Violence, NYPD reports from 2017-2019 that Black women are disproportionately affected by domestic violence-related homicides6. Black people account for 45% of domestic violence-related homicide victims while only accounting for 21.9% of NYC’s population. Black women are exposed to life-ending violence at an alarmingly higher rate than others.

This data is sad but not surprising, as our society has normalized gender-based violence against Black women through controlling images created by dominant groups since slavery. Patricia Hill Collins introduced five main images in her 1986 Social Problems article “Learning from the Outsider Within” to describe the stereotypes that provide the basis for the dehumanization of Black women and the exploitation of their bodies and labor (2). Firstly, The Mammy. She is a dedicated, submissive servant. The Matriarch is a strong, working single mother. The Welfare Mother is a lazy economic drain on state resources. The Black lady is a politically respectable middle-class professional woman. Lastly, The Jezebel represents a gold-digging hypersexual and hyperfertile deviant. These images have reinforced differences among social groups and imply superiority in social relationships, leading to the objectification of and domination of one group over another (1). Our society has been taught to devalue Black women, while Black women are left battling with either internalizing these images or seeking to resist them.

Black women and girls, when they decline or resist advances from males, often are met with more violent acts in response. This is because their actions challenge the stereotypical role of being subservient and respectable. Unfortunately, this has led to the criminalization of acts of survival and resistance, creating an abuse-to-incarceration pipeline, as described by Mariame Kaba (3,4). Black women are often criminalized and even incarcerated for defending themselves against their abusers4. In the case of Rho Bashe, she cried out for help but was met with vilification instead. Her social media was scrubbed to find any justification for what she had experienced. She, of course, is not a perfect victim. Mariame Kaba reiterates that perfect victims are submissive, not aggressive. They are innocent and respectable. “The reality, however, is that there are no perfect victims” (3).

This story is not about ways in which Black women can better minimize the risk and possibility of violence coming their way. This is unwarranted behavior linked to systemic racism, patriarchal ideologies, and an incredible deal of entitlement over Black bodies. It is also a call to men to make a conscientious effort to acknowledge their privileged position when approaching women. The intention may be pure, but putting women’s safety and comfort should always be the first step in engaging with them. "What have I ever done to anybody in this life to deserve this..." This rings in my head. This sits with me. This was at the forefront of my mind when the man on the train followed me off and asked me for my number…

I said, "No."

References

Black Feminisms. (2020). 5 Controlling Images That Affect Black Women. https://blackfeminisms.com/controlling-images/
Collins, P. H. (1986). Learning from the Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought. Social Problems, 33(6), S14–S32. https://doi.org/10.2307/800672
Kaba, M. (2021). We do this 'til we free us: Abolitionist organizing and transforming justice. Haymarket Books.
National Black Women's Justice Institute. (2022, October 24). Black women, girls, gender-based violence & pathways to criminalization and incarceration. https://www.nbwji.org/post/black-women-girls-gender-based-violence-pathways-criminalization-incarceration
National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. (n.d.) Domestic Violence & the Black Community. https://assets.speakcdn.com/assets/2497/dv_in_the_black_community.pdf
New York City Mayor's Office to End Domestic and Gender-Based Violence. (2020, September). https://www.nyc.gov/assets/ocdv/downloads/pdf/ENDGBV-Intersection-DV-Race-ethnicity-Sex.pdf

“Can I get your number?” – The Ultimate Threat

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