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   After turning on the radio this weekend and hearing Meghan Trainor’s song, “No” it really got me thinking about sexual harassment. If you haven’t heard the catchy song with an important message, check it out here.

My name is no
My sign is no
My number is no
You need to let it go
You need to let it go
Need to let it go

  Sexual harassment is rampant in the hood. I never knew it at the time, but the fact you can’t walk down the street full of brothers without all eyes on your body, or an insistent brother trying unashamedly to get in your pants is a part of that hood mentality. And trying to tell a brother “no” is like telling a monkey to get it’s hands off a banana. They think its theirs. Not all brothers are overt in advancement of a female they are trying to pursue; many Black men are respectful and courteous to women. Still, no means no.

    Sexual harassment doesn’t only occur in the hood. It’s funny that going from a Black neighborhood to a small town means the White, Conservative men view me with thinly veiled animosity and have a look that calls to mind a bad taste in the mouth whenever I encounter one. I do not know what is more debasing sometimes, being a sexual pariah or being a sexual target because I am a Black female.

    Whether these advances are on campus, in the hood, at your job, at the grocery store, or at the club; remember that you have the right to say no. If they can’t read between the lines, here’s a motherfucking punch line.

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