Being Amber Rhea

Most of the activism I am really passionate about is related to sexuality. That’s because I am simply unable to divorce sexuality from the rest of my being; it’s such a fundamental part of who I am, that I can’t imagine just taking it on and off like a jacket. I’m not good at compartmentalizing, and I don’t think it should be a requirement for social justice activism. “Yes, work for social justice - as long as you keep this part of you that kind of makes us uncomfortable out of it.”

I can’t do that. To be human is to be sexual; even people who identify as asexual are claiming an identity regarding their sexuality. One of the quotes in my header quote rotation is from Kochanie, and it sums up my feeling on the matter: “I am sex, I am my body, and my sex, my mind and my body have never been separate.”

There’s been a lot of talk here lately about sex work, and I know some people are wondering why I am so passionate about sex workers’ rights activism, in particular. I’ll list a few reasons:*

(1) It’s a basic human rights issue. If, because of what they do for a living, certain people are considered not good enough, less than human, or “not a great loss” when they are murdered… if gang-rape at gunpoint isn’t rape, but “theft of services,” based on the victim’s occupation… then we’ve got a long way to go before we can call ourselves a truly civilized society.

Whatever you, personally, feel about the morality of sex work - put that aside. It doesn’t matter. Sex workers are human beings. I don’t understand why the same people who urge conservatives to put aside their personal preoccupations with the mechanics of gay sex, in order to view gays and lesbians as full, equal human beings deserving of rights and dignity, can’t do the same thing when it comes to sex workers.

(2) Sex workers’ rights are integral to the broader concept of sexual autonomy for women. Many, if not most, sex workers are women. By telling women they can’t exchange sex for money, you’re putting a stipulation on what they can and can’t do with their own bodies. (See? It’s really not all about teh menz.)

A stigma against sex workers perpetuates a stigma against anyone who “steps out of line” with their sexuality. It’s a tacit approval of regulating sexual expression among consenting adults.

(3) I wanted to be a sex worker for a long time. And yes, part of me still wants that. But I’ve never had the guts to actually do it. A nebulous fear held me back, and holds me back still. Yet because of my interest in sex work, I identify with sex workers on a certain level.

I worry that current and former sex workers who don’t know me very well will read this and feel like I’m co-opting their experience or something… or romanticizing it… I don’t know. One time, a (non-sex worker) friend said something to me like, “You know, being a stripper isn’t always glamorous.” That really offended me! As if I was naïve little thing with stars in my eyes and delusions of some Platonic Ideal Stripper, up on a pedestal.

Anyway, whenever I’m around people who are active in social justice movements or whatever (I actually kind of loathe phrases like “social justice” and “activism” and the like, but I can’t think of any synonyms I do like right now) and we’ve never broached the topic of sex work, I’m always suspicious. I wonder if they’re going to be like so many other self-identified liberals/progressives, who talk the talk about being so open-minded and inclusive, but in the next breath they’re spouting all sorts of stereotypes about sex workers - either how they’re amoral drug addicts who destroy families, or they’re poor victims of the Male Gaze who need a well-meaning progressive to swoop in and save them from the horrible oppressive capitalist system.

Then when I confront them on this stuff they will get really snide with me, and suddenly the mask is off and you see they’re just as judgmental about sexuality as your garden-variety Religious Right talking head. Either that, or they’re very dsmissive about it (also very typical), like, “Oh, there are more important things to worry about, but sure, you can just keep on with your little ’sex positive’ crusade there…” I HATE THAT!! (For more along these lines, see Queer Dewd’s Shame affirmative, redux, which is officially the Best Blog Post Ever.)

And in such situations, I wonder: what would they think if I were a sex worker instead of a web developer? Or if I had been a stripper in the past, instead of chickening out? Would they look at me differently? If so, in what way exactly? What would they say behind closed doors? Would they even deign to talk to me at all? Would I be an embarrassment? Would they have the stones to still say all those horrible stereotypical things to my face?

Those thoughts really anger me.

(And you wonder why more sex workers don’t speak up.)

The fact of the matter is, you DON’T KNOW who is or used to be a sex worker. It could be anyone. You really have no fucking clue. To lift another quote from my database, this one from Kim: “We don’t always know what we think we know, and in fact, often we don’t know shit.”

So in addition to the mountains of issues I already have with trust, I find it very difficult to trust people if I don’t know what their position on sex work is. And it’s not so much about them automatically having the exact same views as I do; it’s more about them having an open mind and being willing to listen and learn, and most importantly, to value the voices of actual sex workers over those of people who attempt to speak for them.

* This is by no means an exhaustive list of my feelings on the matter, and I did my best to express myself with words that I often found not quite good enough.