Tag Archives: slut shaming

Control & Support Groups

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I have been fairly pissed the past couple of weeks, because for some strange unknown reason, the manager at my club just stopped scheduling me. I’ve worked there almost two years! The first week was the week that made me most mad- it was my regular shift I signed up for, and I have a really limited availability since I work during the week. I was frustrated all week about it, and primarily because my manager just did not communicate with me about why I wasn’t scheduled. He just didn’t tell me anything about it. If it was a mistake, that’s fine- tell me. If there’s a reason, that’s fine- tell me. No communication is just immature, unprofessional, and disrespectful. And then this past weekend, I sent in my shift request late and it was for a shift that I never work, so I expected not to be scheduled. Still, when I wasn’t, I was frustrated.

But it finally gave me a kick in the pants to move beyond my comfort zone and go audition at other places. I auditioned at one new place this past week, and it was exhilarating to be in a new space with new people. I’d like to audition at a few other places and ride the energy of exploring new places. I am such a creature of routine that it usually takes me getting pretty upset or frustrated with something before I try to change it. So here’s to some change!

And I realized why it got under my skin so badly. It reminded me of my experience with school this past year, and someone else controlling how and when and where I use my body. My professor told me, in essence, I needed to choose between education and stripping. And the manager at my regular club told me, by not scheduling me, that I was not going to strip at his club. The lack of agency I felt was overwhelming. Now that I recognize that that was the underlying drive and feeling, I have been more relaxed, knowing I can find another place to dance if need be.

Similar to the constraining feelings of control- this piece on Stripper Economics was recently published by the Portland Mercury, and delves a little bit into the independent contractor versus employee issue. It’s a little flat, but decent coverage of how the work environment is in Portland clubs. It doesn’t seem like the reporter talked to many dancers, which is unfortunate.

In other sex work-related news, I am starting a sex worker support group through SWOC and my work. I am stoked about it! I have had some interesting conversations with various people about it, and I am really excited to have my first one in just over a week. If you’re in the Portland area, 18+, and currently working in the sex industry, feel free to get in touch if you’d like to attend.

This is Belle Knox’s most recent article; it’s fabulous. I love the term “whorearchy.” The sentiments she discusses are spot-on and exactly what I’ve felt the past couple years working in the industry myself. It’s also something I am wary of as I begin the support group: I want to make sure workers of all stripes feel included and respected within the group. Ideally I want the group to be a space of understanding and solidarity. Hopefully that’s what it becomes.

#YesAllWomen

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~My good thoughts and prayers are with the Isla Vista community~

I thought it would be worth collecting my favorite media responses (so far) to the Elliot Rodger incident, and posting them here. I have many thoughts and feelings about the shooting, and many others have already responded articulately and comprehensively. Many of my own thoughts have been encapsulated by others, and while I have been distressed over the shooting, I feel heartened reading all of the strong, emphatic responses by other feminists. I am distressed and saddened, knowing this will likely not be the last incident of its kind, and yet strengthened knowing that so many people I know, men and women, share a vision of gender equality and non-violence.

Laci Green on Upworthy

Jessica Valenti on #YesAllWomen

Your Princess is in Another Castle

When Women Refuse Tumblr

Dude, It’s You

Yes, All Men

Why It’s So Hard for Men to See Misogyny

I posted the Laci Green video on my Facebook wall, and I was not prepared for an acquaintance from high school to side with Elliot’s misogynistic beliefs and attitudes. I have been feeling embarrassed to have such grossness on my Facebook wall, so I keep countering his comments with my own- I can’t let him have the last word on my wall, can I? I have been thankful to my friends who have also been stepping in, bolstering the side of equality. A good friend of mine, too, sent me a message that she had received from a friend of hers who was going through the exact same thing. It was inspirational, and reminded me that I didn’t need to be an “expert” in order to argue with this guy and I didn’t need to apologize to anyone for his behavior and beliefs.

My #YesAllWomen contributions (not that I am on Twitter, but if I was, these would be mine):

Vigilant when I walk by large vans

Cautious when I open my front door at night

Thought about how fast I could run if I need to escape an attacker

Worried that I haven’t taken self-defense and that if I am attacked I will be criticized for not fighting harder

Worried that if I am attacked someone will out me as a stripper and I will no longer look like a “good victim”

Thought about getting an actual guard dog so when we are walking around our neighborhood I would have another form of protection

Do you have any favorite articles on the subject that I don’t have listed? Please share! Reading other people’s thoughts, opinions, and analyses of what happened is helping me process 🙂

Politics of Respectability

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About the politics of respectability, and how having an education and other successes in life clouds our other, more taboo, experiences, despite their worthiness and depth in our lives:

The Erasure of Maya Angelou’s Sex Work History

Or, how the politics of respectability makes our collective experiences look crazy, strange, or shameful:

Stripper with a PhD

The politics of respectability are those that I have tried countless times to discuss on here in relation to my own struggle as both a lover of school and education and desire to work in the mainstream, and a lover of the strip club stage. How can I be both? Perhaps I am neither? Am I a feminist? Or not? Perhaps both? Am I a slut? How complex can I be and still be accepted? How complex can I be and still love myself? Can I respect myself and be everything that I am? Will others respect be despite, and hopefully because of, everything I am?

Thank you Maya

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I love this Maya Angelou poem. I especially love the line about diamonds, as it reminds me of my bedazzled g-string I wear at the club. And, I deeply love the strength, resilience, and power she describes. May we all rise despite adversity, showing ourselves and others what true strength looks like.

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928 – 2014

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

 

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

 

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I’ll rise.

 

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

 

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don’t you take it awful hard

‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.

 

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

 

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

 

Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

 

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

Recent Reads & Views

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I hafta throw it out there (with everyone and their mother) that the strangers making out video is outrageously delightful. I also love that there are two same-sex pairs in the mix. Watching the transformation from awkward to blissed and happy is awesome. (Thanks Jezebel for womping down the mood- it is an ad for clothes. Oh well.)

Feminism is having a wardrobe malfunction: I want the whole damn pie, thank you very much!

Hot Sex…with 35 People: practice safer sex folks! Get tested, use barriers, talk to you partners 🙂 Also, how cool are these commercials? Sexy, arty- a lot like Xart, no?

The Duke student and porn star pieces. This woman is fucking fantastic. All the power and love to her. Slut-shaming and patriarchy and sex work-negative culture has barraged her, and while that sucks, I am also so proud of this person for finding the courage to speak publicly about her experiences.

–I’m The Duke University Freshman Porn Star And For The First Time I’m Telling The Story In My Words

–I’m Finally Revealing My Name and Face As the Duke Porn Star

I am also making my way through my first book on BDD (Understanding Body Dysmorphic Disorder)- it’s like a whole huge part of myself is articulated and written down. I’ve been reading it, feeling hopeful and then depressed and then relieved and then more depressed. But overall, it’s been so helpful to know that what I’ve been dealing with for the majority of my life is a thing that I haven’t been making up.

Anything good on your phone/tablet/computer/nightstand recently?

Life is Short

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My heart was racing, my body was trembling. I read though my letter one final, agonizing time, and pressed print. And then send.

And then it felt finished. Mostly finished anyway.

I wrote a letter to the faculty and staff at the school I just withdrew from, explaining my reasons for withdrawing. It took me about two weeks to write it. J edited it a few times, and a friend of ours did as well (thank you both for helping me with the nitty gritty part of making it sound all professional and intelligent).

Here’s my favorite part; it happens to be the concluding paragraph:

“I highly encourage the faculty members to reconsider the process in which they evaluated my experiences, to examine their own personal values and perspectives related to sex work and social justice, and to be more mindful of the messages they give to students regarding sharing personal information and the potential ramifications of sharing that information. I also request that the faculty, on behalf of future and current students, consider how they will include and exclude various populations from this profession for which they are gatekeepers. If sex workers, in the opinion of this institution, cannot become competent and ethical therapists, then perhaps the school should include that piece of information in the application process as well as consider the ethics and legality of such a claim.”

I have mostly felt really good about my decision, with the occasional twinge and shade of regret and questioning that seeps into the back of my brain (are you sure that was the right decision? why couldn’t you just stop dancing and agree with your professor so you could stay? most people would think you’re crazy! what if you were just being idealistic and radical? what if there isn’t a program that will feel right? you should have just stayed!). And then I shake it off when I remember the absurdity of the situation and try to imagine myself staying there given the atmosphere. This has been my mantra lately; I love this quote so much that I got a wall decoration with it:

Life is short break the rules forgive quickly kiss slowly love truly

Life IS short. Why waste it on an institution that clearly is un-supportive of my perspectives and experiences? Especially when I can be me somewhere else?

I am talking to a reporter about my experience at my school. We’re waiting to see if I receive any kind of response from the school before moving forward with a formal story. I’ll keep y’all posted on that one for sure.

Social (In)justice: Who Says?

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During the course of talking to my advisor yesterday (who, thankfully, is totally on my side), I was informed that not only are the other faculty members outraged at the ethical violations inherent in being a stripper while also training to become a therapist, they are outraged at how being a stripper contributes to further injustice in the world.

Apparently, stripping supports The Patriarchy, contributes to the objectification and violence against women, and supports trafficking of girls.

Holy $h!t.

Like I discussed earlier about patriarchy and stripping, I think this world is full of “both/and,” and far less of “either/or.” I will not disagree that by participating in stripping I am supporting the “male gaze.” I also think there is more to my story of stripping.

What matters, to me, is the personal intention, awareness, and small-scale action that takes place within oppressive structures.

What about my classmates who work at Target, an anti-LGBTQ company? Or classmates who are all about the bling (one, in fact, owns more than 500 pairs of shoes) and thus pay more attention to their material acquisitions than the fact that their consumerism and materialism contributes to the oppression of the poor? What about classmates who smoke and contribute to second-hand and third-hand smoke? Or, heaven forbid, what about my classmates who go to strip clubs as patrons?

This is about sex and it’s about sex work.

Like another student said to me yesterday: It’s pretty terrible how many times faculty in our program force others to sacrifice personal justice in the name of “social justice.”

Who gets to decide how an individual contributes to social justice or injustice? Especially over something so gray as the work that one does to support oneself?

The professor I met with said: It’s not about the exotic dancing.

But it is. There’s no way around that one.