Thoughts on Biden, and What the Future Should Hold

A couple of weeks ago Joe Biden was finally sworn in and became the 46th President of the United States and a sense of relief washed over much of the US. Tensions that have kept us up at night over the past 4 years were released and for many, there is hope of healing in the next four years that will cancel out the nightmare of the previous one. Every part of the nation's expanding population is asking for something different from President Biden, the question is - can he deliver?

All across the US (and beyond) the question lingers in the back of every American’s mind differently. There is much work to be done, but a month in the president has made it clear that he is committed to stepping firmly out of the shadow of his predecessor. But the 45th president ignited extremists that this nation has not had to confront with such gaping self-examination, and they remain a prominent part of the US’ future. 

Moreover, the pandemic continues to cast a cloud of worry over much of the population. Zahra, a Muslim-American woman, expressed her hopes and fears saying:

“I am most optimistic about how the pandemic will be handled under the Biden administration. Trump did a terrible job of ensuring nationwide protocol when dealing with COVID-19 & I am very hopeful that Biden and the COVID-19 task force are going to try their best to make sure the vaccine is accessible and take whatever precautionary measures are necessary in order to flatten the curve. I’m afraid that racial tensions may stay the same. Trump has mobilized and energized violent racists to the forefront. And they are very much comfortable with what they stand for and that genuinely scares and concerns me.”

But racial division and COVID-19 response are inextricably intertwined, no matter how we view the future of this pandemic or this country we must consider all the niches of inequity that exist. Ece, a Turkish-American currently pursuing a dual degree at Sciences Po and Colombia Universities, expanded on this, commenting:

“With Biden already signing to rejoin the Paris Climate Agreement and plans to lift the Muslim-majority travel ban, I’m optimistic to mostly to see the undoing of Trump’s discriminatory and ignorant presidency. Though, I’m quite skeptical of the Biden administration in accomplishing the radical change we need to see now in the US, ranging from massive housing to educational reform. If the outbreak of COVID-19 proved anything, it was that the US reeks of inequalities, most of which have only escalated. I’m afraid that unless the consequences and the continuance of racist and discriminatory practices are acknowledged and confronted, the change we need to see as a fairer and more society will not occur. It’s a matter of admitting that this system does not work, and one of creating a new order that reorients the decision-making towards its citizens and away from waging countless wars in the Middle East fueling a military-industrial complex and prioritizing the demands of corporations all in the name for profit.” 

Looking out at the state of US politics as President Biden takes over doesn’t inspire much confidence. Many feel that this is a return to the regular state of affairs where scandals are swept under the rug and not blurted out on Twitter. That the next 4 years will see merely incremental change. Blythe, a student of Community Organization from Tennessee echoes this less than optimistic sentiment saying: 

“I feel like our country’s administration just changed from a dumpster fire to a regular trash can that ultimately still resides in the landfill of American politics...so my relief is high but my optimism for the Biden administration is low. The light from the dumpster fire did illuminate a lot of cracks in our system, and I’ve started to see people really demanding that their politicians work to fix those. I hope that the Biden administration is able to create “radical” policy that will serve the people of our country. But I fear and expect that this administration will create solutions that don’t dig deep enough to get to the root of the problems. That they, for instance, will work with BLM leaders and activists to create really progressive policy, but will fail to dismantle the prison and military industrial complex in a way that would prevent all their work from being easily undone. I hope I’m surprised though.”

For the youth who have been so catastrophically introduced to political life in the past 4 years, the inauguration meant rest - for a brief moment. Sulan, an IB student and Jamaican-American speaks to much of what many young people are feeling saying:

“I must admit that when Biden was voted in I felt a rush of relief. After four years, I could let go of the breath I was holding in and open my eyes; the nightmare is over. Now that he and VP Harris have been sworn in, I’ve had more time to reset my expectations of this administration to a realistic level. I think most of their efforts will likely be to correct much of the damage that Trump has done in his time as president, like improving upon immigration policies, reversing the Muslim ban and re-entering the Paris Climate Agreement. Additionally, I think Biden will help to get the country closer to recovering from the pandemic. However, I doubt there will be much progress with issues that were prominent during Obama’s administration, like defunding local and federal law enforcement and refocusing the national budget on education and social services. I definitely expect this presidential term to be less eventful than the last, but I hope that other young people share the realization of how important it is to pay attention to the actions of our leaders and demand change when they have failed us.”

Immigrant communities were made particularly vulnerable under the Trump presidency and continue to wait in the wings as the administration plans to wrestle with the growing racial tensions and the ever-changing nature of the pandemic. 

Angie reflects upon her position being the daughter of Mexican (im)migrants as Biden takes the reigns of US foreign policy. “As a first-generation student and daughter of Mexican (im)migrants, I am most excited about seeing the possibilities of immigration policy changes under Biden. After years of turmoil and discrimination against (im)migrants, I hope to see a change for my undocumented family members and close friends to have a chance in obtaining a green card and/or citizenship. However, I fear that no policies will change, and yet another failed promise will eradicate all hope for the futures of my loved ones in this country.” 

At the same time, the Biden administration is working in coordination with the most diverse US congress in history. From the House of Representatives to the Senate, and all the way to the White House there has never been this much representation of the US’ most historically underrepresented identities. This hits home for many, but for Black women especially. Vice President Harris exists at the intersection of many identities that have been not only controversial but constricting. Having the daughter of Asian and Caribbean immigrants ascend to the second highest office definitely resonates with Dr Joseph, a Haitian American historian. As she reflected on the incoming administration saying:

“I am most optimistic about Black women continuing to lead coalitions to push for policy change under the Biden administration. Such change includes addressing the unjust judicial system and the wealth gap.I know that white supremacy is not going away in the next 4 years and neither is capitalism, a system built on oppression of the masses for the gains of the few. But I believe the people doing the work to see that radical shift happen.”

The next 4 years might not see the radical change that I and many others are awaiting, but as we move forward in optimism we cannot forget how the Trump presidency enlightened us to the dark underbelly of US politics. Beyond conspiracy and falsehoods, complicity is the poison that has kept this nation sick for centuries. Whether it is the pandemic that continues to guide our lives or the racism that has gone unspoken for years - the way forward is rooted in accountability. 

The Biden administration, the House of Representatives, the Senate, every facet of local and national politics  must be held accountable on every issue, so find what really matters to you and hold them to their promises. Victory should not lead to complacency.

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

Just Because I’m Slutty Doesn’t Mean I Want to Fuck You

Artwork by Coral Black

“Was I, a feminist blogger who writes mainly about sex and consent, someone who had just sexually harassed one of my friends?”

I love a hibernating flirtation. While I am flirtatious by default, I am respectful in my friend groups to always maintain a respectability. I'm Sense and Sensibility, but with just a bit of ankle showing, and a fire Instagram full of thirst traps. I post sexual content sometimes because I'm a sexual person. I post feminist content because I'm a feminist. I post terrible dog photos because my dog is very dark brown, and also very fast. All of these things I love about myself, but sometimes it leaves me vulnerable.

A couple of weeks ago a friend dmed me. Let’s call him Joe. We had talked previously about wiring in his new house and about getting his cats to start an OnlyFans (OnlyFelines) and whatnot. But this time it was different. This time he led with "would you let me touch your butt." Which was great. I love flirting. And consent. I love when men ask me questions. We teased each other, and he talked about his kinks. We continued the conversation on Signal because it's encrypted and hey, we aren't fucking idiots. Joe sent me a couple of dick pics. He asked me where I wanted him to come. It was sensual and playful and all consensual play in early January between two adult friends. I thought it was chill, until a couple of days ago when I sent him a playful video.

It was set to disappear after one viewing on Instagram, and he told me after viewing it that maybe we should keep it halal, since we were in the same friend group. That's totally fine. However, Joe then went on to tell me that he had been drunk and high a couple of weeks ago when he had first messaged me and that the next morning, he had read over the text messages and realized he had gone too far. At no point did he ever say that to me, and so I had just continued flirting along and thinking things were cool. I felt like a fool for thinking that we were on the same page, and then an asshole, for flirting with someone who didn't feel comfortable with the situation. I hadn't asked the next day about consent because I hadn't known that he was drunk. Was I, a feminist blogger who writes mainly about sex and consent, someone who had just sexually harassed one of my friends?

I worried enough to talk about the situation with my best friend, who wrinkled her eyebrows when I told her the whole story. "Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" was her first question.

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. I had had no idea that Joe was in a relationship. I quickly pulled up his Instagram to see if I had missed the signs, if I had willfully not noticed them, but there was nothing. No vacation photos, no tags, nothing. I was horrified nonetheless and reached out to a mutual friend for confirmation, and the answer was yes. I was in disbelief. He had made me feel like it was me being weird, but really, he was the one who was in a relationship, and who had engaged in our interaction willingly, and deceitfully. I confronted him about it, and he told me that he knew that I hadn't known he was in a relationship, and he had taken advantage of it. I confirmed it with a different friend (who is male) who then told me that "he didn't want to excuse his behavior, but maybe they had been in a rough patch of their relationship, and that Joe had been really stressed about the election."

Time for me to unhinge my jaw and swallow some men whole.

“I was flushed with anger and grief, that I put myself out there as a sexual person because I like sex, but it gets used to do harm towards other people.”

We were ALL stressed about the election. I haven't seen my primary partner in a year due to COVID-19 travel restrictions. But I haven't been a dick about it. I felt disappointed, and angry. I felt awful for his girlfriend, and outraged on her behalf. I was angry that he never told me that he had a girlfriend, and that even when apologizing for taking it too far and making it too sexual, he never mentioned her. Not only that, but I was flushed with anger and grief, that I put myself out there as a sexual person because I like sex, but it gets used to do harm towards other people. I realized that while men fought for the sexual revolution and for the right for women to have more promiscuous sex, it wasn't really for women to be liberated. Here I am, a confident woman in the 21st century, and I keep meeting dickheads to whom consensual, safe, and clearly communicated sexual relationships are not enough for them. For them, the thrill is that it's not consensual. For them, the thrill is exploiting women's sexuality for their own benefit.

I'm tired of feeling like if I'm being sexual, I will get unsolicited dick pics on the internet all day and night. I'm tired of feeling like if I'm being prudish, that I will get mocked, pressured, or teased for not giving in to the whims of men. No matter what I do, it's somehow not the correct move, and that has nothing to do with my sexuality and everything to do with men wanting dominance and power. Men don’t want easy access to sex. They want to have power over women in sexual situations.

“I am demanding more from the men in my life, asking them the ways they’ve planned to take care of me, and how they intend to respect my boundaries, and how they will communicate with me. I am demanding excellence, and respect, both for myself and for my fellow women. ”

How do we move past this power struggle though? These were supposed to be my FRIENDS. These were men who prided themselves on being knowledgeable about consent, about being protective and mindful of misogyny, of patriarchal structures and deep rooted sexism. With friends like these, who needs enemies. As I've always said, women need to treat dating like a team sport. Met a fun man? Invite him to meet all your friends and have them all give you feedback on whether they felt comfortable around him. Know a coworker who once hooked up with the guy your roommate matched with on Bumble? Ask for a report. Now, I’m going to start calling out bad behavior in my friend groups and start asking them to be accountable for it. I am no longer going to try and protect shitty men. We are stronger when we band together, when we can create accountability and call men out on the harm they are doing. It also starts with unlearning the harmful belief that we must protect male feelings above our own. I used to worry that I would blow someone's life up when I called them out on their bad behavior. Now I know that it is not my responsibility to care for them. I told Joe that he had to tell his girlfriend about what happened, otherwise I would tell her myself, and I would bring screenshots. I called my other friend out for making stupid excuses on Joe’s behalf for why he had cheated on his girlfriend with me. I am demanding more from the men in my life, asking them the ways they've planned to take care of me, and how they intend to respect my boundaries, and how they will communicate with me. I am demanding excellence, and respect, both for myself and for my fellow women.

I am going to keep my insta DMs open for now, because I don't want to feel like I've been shamed into abstinence or that I am self-censoring because men have abused the privilege of my feed. But I am going to write about this, and blare it loudly across my platforms. I am going to put a head on a pike outside my inbox as a warning. Yes, I am sexual. I may show my ankles and maybe even my tits and ass. But I still deserve respect, and honesty, and I will no longer settle for anything less.

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The Whorticulturalist is the mother of this magazine. She is a sex-positive blogger and creative who enjoys rock climbing, dancing, and camping. In her spare time, she’s probably flirting.

Artwork by Coral Black. Coral received her BA from Western Washington University in fine arts and interdisciplinary studies. She specializes in figurative and landscape oils, photography, and block printing, all with an emphasis on texture. When she’s not in her studio, Black is—who is she kidding, she's always in her studio. Black lives with her family in the PNW where she operates an illustration and design business. You can find more of her work at coralsuecreative.com

This and Other Reasons Why I Don’t Walk Alone At Night

Artwork by Kay Sirianni

This poem was written at a time in my life where my mental health was fraying and I wanted to express my experiences and the experience of those around me. It gets into some deeply personal first-hand experience I have had with people who suffer from PTSD but my true purpose was to talk about the horrors of sexual assault and the mental scars it leaves behind. Sexual violence is a really horrible thing to experience, but the way in which PTSD prolongs victimhood consistently goes unspoken. So I spoke about it, and I hope it helps others understand that this is also a very female problem and many women are dealing with the traumatic aftermath on the daily.

Rape is like all the ‘nice’ guys I have ever met

He forces his way into your head, and then it's your bed

And now you can't rest

But before all of this

I never had this misfortune of meeting the man himself.

But now,

Now - Rape has moved in

Made a home for himself on the bed across the room

He bides his time during the day

Filters into the background

And at night he comes alive in the room

He haunts it

He preys on it

Hell, I think he enjoys it.

Sometimes I want to kick rape out

But I don't know where to start

When I try, he just comes back

He knows just when to show up 

Knows how to wear us down

He makes it hard to keep living here.

Makes it harder to push him out

His shit is all over the place

Now my room is all stains and clutter and pain

Rape is tricky like that.

He comes back just when you think you are safe. 

I wish Rape wasn't my problem anymore,

But he follows me now.

On my way home in the dark

Alone in my home

Around the men on the street

Rape, 

Well he’s like all the nice guys I’ve ever met

Always there at the wrong moment.

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

The Orgasm Archive: an Interview with Artist Christine Sloan Stoddard

Christine Sloan Stoddard is a Salvadoran-American author, artist, filmmaker, theatre-maker, and the founder of Quail Bell Press & Productions. This includes the namesake publication Quail Bell Magazine. Her newest books are Heaven is a Photograph (a poetry and photography collection) and Naomi & The Reckoning (a novelette). Her newest film, "Bottled," is available on Amazon Prime. Her newest play, "Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares," is forthcoming in a book by Table Work Press.

First of all, thank you for allowing us to publish your work and letting us interview you! We loved your piece “The Orgasm Archive” but felt like we needed to hear more about your process and reasoning for creating it before we published it. How did you first come up with the idea to do an art project about orgasms, and in particular, about the disparities between female and male pleasure?

A grad school project prompt in my interdisciplinary art program inspired me to consider creative ways of representing power imbalances in heteronormative relationships. I focused on pleasure because I was thinking about how art is often thought of as a source of pleasure or decadence, something that isn’t necessary to survival, but on some level, it is. Art is necessary in life just as much as pleasure, including physical pleasure, is necessary in life. I also focused on pleasure because I wanted to portray something that’s common knowledge about heteronormative power imbalances, even if not everyone agrees it is a bad thing. As a personal challenge for myself, I wanted to find creative ways to illustrate this common knowledge. Just because something is commonly known doesn’t mean it can’t be represented in a new way. In some ways, it’s tougher to do that than illustrate novel knowledge.

“Just because something is commonly known doesn’t mean it can’t be represented in a new way.”

“The Orgasm Archive” includes photography, illustrations, GIFs, typographical experiments, sculptures, and installations. It’s quite a vast project in large part because the class project demanded we pursue something generative. Over the course of nearly two months, we were required to produce a new aspect of the project every week and present it for critique. My process in general involves producing numerous things and then weeding out what I don’t want, or at least don’t want for this edit of a project. There were definitely pieces that didn’t make the final cut for my class project but that I still consider a part of that process and intend to showcase elsewhere.

A faked orgasm is an insanely visual and audio performance that represents something that is not quite true, but a production that is meant to entertain, excite, and deceive. How do you think that plays into your visual representations of orgasm?

I wanted to allude to orgasms without creating literal depictions of intercourse or oral sex because an orgasm isn’t just physical. It’s also psychological and can even be deeply emotional. As you mentioned, if it’s faked, it’s definitely performative. And even if it’s not faked, there’s still an awareness of performance and often pride or shame attached to it: “Am I being too loud?” “Is my orgasm face weird?” “I bet I look really hot.” One of the reasons why I love making art is that you rely so heavily on your imagination, but you’re still tasked with tapping into something real. I enjoy making work that feels completely magical or unreal, but I also enjoy making work that captures reality to the point of magnifying it, almost to the point of hyper-observation and obsession. I leaned into both of these impulses, depending upon what quote I was working with.

Obviously a lot of what we understand about female pleasure is the result of less-than-accurate information, or lack thereof, about female orgasm. Did you learn anything you didn’t know before when you were doing your research for this piece?

I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know about female orgasm. Instead, I was reminded that there can be a lot of thinking, research, writing, and publishing related to a problem without real change being effected. Women still aren’t getting off as much as they want to get off.

How did you find and choose the quotes that you used in The Orgasm Archives?

Because it stemmed from a class project, I relied on my campus libraries. I went to the main library and the science library at The City College of New York and gleaned as much as I could in the time that I had. Admittedly, it wasn’t any more systematic than that. I supplemented with online research at home, but I was really invested in what had been published in physical books, including much older ones. This was in part because I figured I might as well make good use of campus resources while I had them, but also because I was thinking about the physicality of some of the artwork I was creating. Scanning and/or photographing books definitely factored into my process and I did use actual books for one of my installations. I was one of those jerks who literally checked out 40 or 50 books at a time because being a grad student afforded me that privilege. And, yes, those books did end up in one of the campus art galleries.

What do you hope people will get out of The Orgasm Archives? What do you want them to take away about themselves and about their relationship to pleasure?

In reality, I think most people will only see bits and pieces from “The Orgasm Archives”—a photo here, a GIF there. They won’t experience the whole archive at once, but I like keeping the project name attached to individual pieces to cue the audience to the fact that those pieces are part of something larger. Depending upon the piece they see, I hope they will respond to the humor or enchantment and feel camaraderie with other women or compassion for women. If they are someone who doesn’t believe all people should experience pleasure in consenting sexual encounters/relationships, then I want to change their mind. Or at least encourage them to question why they think that way!

How does sexuality and pleasure influence your other work? Your other mediums?

It’s really case by case, but I’m definitely interested in those topics and often explore them in my projects. My first published novelette, Naomi & The Reckoning (Finishing Line Press), deals with sexuality and pleasure more directly than most other recently released pieces. This novelette follows Naomi, a young woman with a physical deformity living in Richmond, VA. Struggling with body acceptance all her life, Naomi also comes from a strict religious upbringing. Purity culture further complicated her relationship with her body and, now recently married, she can’t find sexual satisfaction. You can order the book directly from the publisher here. An audiobook and film for Naomi & The Reckoning are currently in production, with actress Donna Morales serving as the narrator for both.

Talk to us about eroticism in the art world, as well as what it’s like to be a woman in art, doing work about sexuality and sensuality. 

Though I’ve experienced cyberbullying and sexual harassment, I haven’t quite been accused of being a “nymphomaniac” yet and even if I were, I wouldn’t care. I’ve grown immune to comments, DMs, unsolicited emails, etc. Isn’t that sad? Yet that’s my coping mechanism and survival strategy. I receive a lot of unwanted attention from men and occasionally women—strangers and acquaintances alike—but I think that’s just by virtue of being a public female figure or even simply a woman, because it happens regardless of whether recent projects have focused on sexuality and sensuality. Even during my more dormant periods, these people seem to feel entitled to my time and attention, or at least they want my time and attention. But I know my boundaries and I set them. I’m not obligated to give anyone anything. I really only make myself accessible to the public as someone whose work they can view, read, purchase, or study. I’m not your girlfriend or fuck buddy because you saw one of my creations in a magazine and now think I must be hot to trot. There’s a clear division between my work and myself as a person. I cannot be bought. I am not a commodity. If you’ve bought a book or painting from me, great, thank you, I appreciate your patronage, but that doesn’t mean you get me. Unfortunately, enforcing boundaries is often necessary for a female artist’s safety and sanity. I keep most of my private life incredibly private.

To find more of Christine’s work, follow her socials and other projects below:

I am always creating and it can be hard to keep up, but I don’t expect anyone to do that. I can barely do that! I only hope that when they do stumble upon my work, some aspect of it intrigues them and they seek more.

Current Projects:

Heaven is a Photograph

Hello, New York—The Living And Dead

Two Plays: True Believer and Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares

Bottled

Virtual Caress

Nessie

Mural commissions

Websites:

You can find out about my other books, as well as my film and video work, like my recent release Moonskating, and my visual artwork, like my murals, at www.worldofchristinestoddard.com. I am available for hire as a writer, visual storyteller, and cultural producer (www.wordsmithchristine.com) and take commissions as a fine artist (www.christinestoddard.com). 

I also run Quail Bell Magazine at www.quailbellmagazine.com and Quail Bell Press & Productions at www.quailbell.com.

Socials:

My Facebook fan page is facebook.com/artistchristinestoddard. I’m on Instagram at @christine_sloan_stoddard and Twitter @csloanstoddard.

Article and interview written, edited and conducted by the whorticulturalist.

My Religion vs My Libido

Growing up in a traditional Christian household, I was taught to be God-fearing, wholesome, chaste, well-mannered, and poised. These characteristics were the determining factors as to how successful of a Christian woman you were.  As I grew older and entered puberty, protecting my chastity became the main topic of concern. My virginity was to be saved for my husband.

During my formative years, I was a devoted “church-goer”. I participated in the choir, youth fellowship, bible study, and attended Sunday School. I’d do bible exams and pass with flying colors. On the outside, it would appear as if I was firmly rooted in my Christian foundation.  But behind closed doors, I was a rebellious teenager, struggling with sexual feelings and my changing body.

13, horny and confused.

Being taught that sexual feelings and actions before marriage were a sin, I found myself in a constant battle. If I was to wait until marriage, why did I feel this way? Was something wrong with me? No one told me that what I felt was NATURAL, just that it was WRONG. I found myself in a cycle of masturbation and guilt – Masturbating to feel better, but having the euphoria quickly dissipate because of the guilt. 

Going through the days plagued by shame changed the perception I had of myself. I was disgusted. I’d attend church and was afraid to speak with persons because I felt like they knew I was sinning. I needed to find a solution; not only did I have this internal struggle, but my relationship with God also began to weaken. Having to continually ask for forgiveness made me feel pathetic, so I opted to just avoid having interactions with him. 

I remember sitting in class one day when my teacher began to have a talk with us about puberty and sex. She touched on the topic of masturbation and assured us it was natural to partake in some self-love. Extremely perplexed; after class, I pulled her to the side to ask her if masturbating wasn’t a sin. She explained that the act of self-pleasure wasn’t bad, but what made masturbation wrong was the lust that accompanied it. I recall feeling an extreme sense of relief. I had no sexual desire for anyone, I just wanted to get off.

The respite I received helped me find peace. Because I now felt comfortable in repairing my bond with God.

15, horny and attracted to boys

That relief I gained lasted for two years. I salvaged my relationship with the Big Guy and I felt as if I was in a better position mentally to balance my urges. However, as time went on and my body continued to develop, my attraction to the opposite sex began to grow, and I was back to square one. 

Masturbation without porn and sexual desire became extremely difficult. Guys began to show me attention, and I was on overdrive. Consequently, I found myself watching porn and imagining my crushes and me in the scenes. The appetite I had for getting off expanded. I could not control my need for relief, which led to the return of the masturbation/guilt cycle. I entered a rabbit hole of self-deprecation and once again began to deviate from my faith.   

I struggled to choose between sexual urges & my Christian values. I felt I had no choice but to put my sins on a metaphoric scale. I weighed them similarly to how crimes were valuated. My solution was to justify my lust and masturbation as low on the totem pole. I wasn’t stealing, I wasn’t killing, most importantly, my virginity was protected.

But, then something happened.

The virginity I worked so hard to protect and chastity I struggled to uphold was taken from me

For a long time, I felt that what had happened to me was somehow my fault and that God was punishing me because I spent all those years succumbing to my sexual deviance. I held my head in shame, feeling that I brought this upon myself.

 “Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually” 1 Corinthians 16:11- The bible scripture mandated to me after my traumatic experience. I was taught that times of hardships and tribulations were the most important times to draw closer to the Big Guy. I was a mess mentally, not only was I grappling with the thought that I brought this on to myself, but I could not and would not be around the opposite sex. The way I felt before the trauma was all gone. The last thing on my mind was getting off. 

Guilt-ridden, I emerged myself in the things I was taught to be right. I was traumatized, it was all my fault and this was the only way to prevent something bad from happening again. 

18, working on things but horny again? 

Time had passed, and I went through a plethora of emotions, phases, and moods. Fully emerging myself into Christian values had brought nothing but pain and sorrow. I had this increased level of detest for religion. If I was doing everything right, if I had asked for forgiveness and repented, why were bad things continuously happening to me? 

No one could provide an answer, all I heard was “stay true, stay steadfast and love God, things will work out” Nah, this wasn’t working. I started questioning if staying faithful and just was the right thing for me. I was miserable, unhappy, and most of all I had denied myself sexual relief. 

I entered a new chapter of my life – COLLEGE. I was moving on to the campus and out of my parents' grasp. I would no longer be forced to attend church and the values I lived by became a choice of my own. 

The guys were looking good, I was looking good and with my virginity already taken away, I was no longer fearful of the repercussions. What was worse than rape? If all I did was masturbate and my punishment was so brutal, how bad could it get if I actually took my power back and have sex voluntarily? 

These questions led me down a dark path. I was no longer bending over and denying my happiness in the name of religion. I was no longer going to live my life to die. I saw moving onto campus as a way I could regain my power, to regain the thing I lost…The right to choose. I was no longer concerned with sinning and the fall out of it.

Fast forward to today. 

Things haven’t magically gotten perfect.  I’m still trying to figure it out. One thing I learned was that my happiness had to come first for me to live a fulfilled life. I could not be concerned with keeping up a battle that was draining my energy. I had to find a middle ground that didn’t cause me continuous pain. Lust and fornicating aren't the only sins, so I chose to uphold the others. 

So here I am 

25, still horny, not married, sexually active, but I have a relationship with God.

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Ashleigh Harris is a recent graduate of the University of the West Indies with a degree in Political Science. She suffers from Epilepsy and as such she has become an advocate for the cause. She is extremely passionate about workplace equity for all and spends her free time relating to her peers on issues of sexism, racism and ageism. She currently works as a digital marketer and uses her platform to create content that spreads awareness of various issues. You can check out more from her at Instagram @ashlerenaee.

Las Pandillas: Women on the Run

In 2018, as an abnormally large number of migrants marched to the US border, they couldn’t have known the hell that would soon befall them. Now, in 2020, the issue has fallen to the background of US politics and out of the public consciousness. Though the so-called “crisis” on the border remains a major challenge to women’s rights on both sides of the line. 

The vast majority of migrants on the border are women and minors coming up from the Northern Triangle, a notoriously fraught region. The NTCA refers to the three most tumultuous and low-income countries south of Mexico - El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala. Two of the most significant challenges to progress and development in these three nations are economic inequality and gang violence. These are harshest on the women in the region. Domestic violence is endemic, and recent years have seen gangs deliberately targeting women and children to extort further the communities they torment. 

Artwork by Lucia Torres

To get a better picture of the current violence that is so widespread in the region, we need to understand a bit of history. The area has been rife with political, socioeconomic, and colonial conflicts for centuries. Military coups and a series of US interventions have kept the region unstable for decades. Long before the gangs, social and economic inequality manifested in all-out civil wars as the poor attempted to usurp their elitist oppressors. The tale of violent conflict within the region is a long and complex one, but the critical event that most informs the turmoil we are seeing today began in the late 1970s in the streets of El Salvador.

Socioeconomic divides that began brewing long before the nation’s independence spilled over into the 1900s and manifested in an attempted coup in 1930. The failure left the poor and wounded under the toe of a brutal military force controlled by the elite they sought to overthrow. Tensions continued to rise, and a string of attempted coups and assassinations came to a head in 1979 when a leftist military junta seized control of the country. After they failed to fulfill their promises to the working class, the five largest guerillas rose up to fight off their new oppressor. Under the National Liberation Front banner, these guerillas began a conflict that soon plunged the nation into civil war.  

The war dragged on until 1992, and by then, the country had been decimated. The blood of 75,000 Salvadorans marred the empty streets as El Salvador attempted to rebuild with a crippled population, no government, and no clear way forward. Hundreds of thousands of Salvadorans fled during the 12-year long war, many of them leaving their children and seeking out better lives elsewhere. They most commonly arrived on the US border; many of them crossed illegally after failing to claim asylum. 

The US had played a significant role in the war itself, providing arms and funds for the authoritarian regime who they chose to legitimize. It was with US sponsored arms and training that the regime would go on to commit 85% of the atrocities against their own people in the war. Though they fueled the most severe human rights violations they felt they owed nothing to the Salvadorans at the border. Their ignorance and ineptitude in dealing with the thousands of people flowing into the country left these refugees destitute. Forced into poor neighborhoods with no papers and no ability to get them, they fended for themselves in inner cities riddled with the kind of organized gang violence that plagues El Salvador today. 

These Los Angeles neighborhoods were the birthplace of Mara Salvatrucha and Barrio Deciocho, gangs that now sprawl across the NTCA. They had innocent beginnings. They were a way for the Salvadoran community to defend themselves from the surrounding gangs that frequently harassed them. However, they soon became full-fledged drug trafficking operations, and while they continued to protect their community, the lucrative business was attractive for all these fresh and jobless refugees. 

In the early 90s, the Clinton administration pushed for tighter restrictions on refugees arriving to and currently living in the US. This came with a wave of negative attention that soon saw many gang members deported back to a home with no infrastructure. Deportations began in 1993, with just dozens of gang members, but only two years later, the Clinton administration had forcibly removed 780 members from the country. 

They arrived to an El Salvador with no ability or will to monitor and control them. Their operations flourished. The wave of migrant parents fleeing and leaving their children behind had created thousands of orphans, and with little else to occupy their time and no family that was fit to provide, the gangs became their refuge. The country was littered with weaponry that soon fell into the hands of the warring gangs that began to carve up the country. In lieu of a formal policing force and a well-established government, with thousands of lost children and abandoned artillery in their midst, Barrio 18 and MS-13 soon became the most notorious gangs in the region, spreading across borders and becoming a powerful economic and societal force.

El Salvador was brought to the brink of disaster in 2015 as its murder rate spiked to 104 per 100,000. That was a wake-up call for the government. After a series of trial and error policies, attempts to control and quell the swell of gang violence are finally yielding success. But as the war on the gangs in the NTCA continues to rage on, and even if the government wins, the seeds of future class struggle have already been sown. Like the nations surrounding it, the country is burdened with the lasting impact of colonial and imperialist oppression.

Economic inequality across the world is rising, but it poses even greater stress on women and girls in the global south. Burdened with all that femininity carries everywhere; caring for children, being economically viable partners, and being good homemakers. The weight of womanhood is extra heavy on women who are attempting to make lives in impoverished neighbourhoods plagued by violent crime. 

Gangs are a symbol of fear for every member of society, but women have been uniquely made targets of their brutal acts. Gender-based violence has become just another weapon in the toolbox, and the victimization of women has become imperative to territorial control and power. 

Women have been forced into hiding. They barricade themselves in their homes, avoid public life, and are still expected to provide for their children. The obstacles are continuing to mount. Femicide rates in the NTCA, particularly in Honduras and El Salvador, are the worst in the world. In 2018, 6.8 of 100,00 women in El Salvador died - the highest femicide rate in the world at the time. In that same year, Honduras topped out at 5.1, while Guatemala saw 2 per 100,000 women die because of their gender. These crimes are ruthless. The thousands of women who were found to be victims of femicide were mutilated and often found to have experienced some form of sexual violence before their death.

Artwork by Lucia Torres

The UN has made many reports that cite gang violence as a key factor in these crimes. Yet, a culture of machismo that glorifies the oppression of women prevents the police and the government from addressing these issues in earnest. As these governments wrestle with gang violence, women’s causes routinely fall between the cracks. Their policies fail to intervene in the places women need community and government support. 

Femicide is just the tip of the iceberg. The gangs have taken up a policy of  forcibly “recruiting” women by making them “novias de la pandilla (girlfriends of the gang).” These relationships have been referred to as modern slavery, marked by sexual and physical violence. Las pandillas in the NTCA have been known to extort families by threatening to take their daughters. They often kidnap these girls with or without the money, making these young girls bargaining chips in this sick game of chance. In this unique context, women have become more than products; they are a currency that ensures community submission to gang rule. 

The options are simple - flee or pay and hope for the best. As the economic situation worsens in the region, and governments remain incapable of containing, punishing, or even rehabilitating gang members, the second is no longer feasible.

Again, all eyes turn to the United States. A country whose increasingly limited and nationalistic rhetoric continues to shut the door in their faces. Migrants coming up from the NTCA know this. They are well aware of the politics at play in the US and the many challenges on their long journey. They are conscious that this path is laced with violence and their success (or lack thereof) is up to fate. Still, they leave not out of any genuinely independent will but out of necessity. Economic hardship, widespread gang violence, and the overwhelming sense that change will never have spurred them into action.

The journey northward is long and arduous. Migrants are guided by “coyotes,” people who have made it their life's work to smuggle hundreds of migrants each year from their nations to the US’s southern border. They charge thousands of USD to make you a part of their group and often raise the price at will. Many families save for years for the chance to send just one person to safety. 

Millions of migrants make the trek each year from the NTCA to the US’s southern border. In 2019 it was projected that 1% of the population of Guatemala and Honduras would attempt to make it to the US border. Less than half of them will actually get asylum. The US government will repatriate the rest, but commonly migrants don’t get far enough to stake their claim.

Today, women and children are occupying the lion’s share of migrants showing up at the border. This is indicative of the violence they are facing at home and the many challenges they are facing to obtaining legal status in the US. 

Under the Trump administration, both Mexico and the US have tightened their border security. As the US becomes more isolationist in its policies, it places increased pressure on its allies to do the same. The crackdowns on the Mexican border with Guatemala have forced refugees into even more perilous routes. In these areas, they face extortion from regional gangs, victimization by human traffickers that kidnap these women and girls for sexual and domestic servitude. 

There isn’t enough being done to protect these women, and this isn’t work they can push for alone. This unique trap has been constructed around them for decades, and escaping won’t be easy. Both international and national efforts to protect these women have to be focused on them - not on the gangs, not on money, or immigration. It has to center on the women who are dying and being enslaved because it is only through giving them justice; we can show them that there is hope. 

The situation in the NTCA is getting better, but the gangs are also getting smarter, and unlike the general public, they are watching every move the government makes. Whether it be more lax immigration policies or harsher anti-gang patrols - they are preparing for it. And that preparation only puts more stress on these women and their families.

What a woman has to be is constantly changing, but in the NTCA, it is unclear if womanhood will ever not be tied to victimhood. There is so much more to being a woman in a society primed and accepting of the violence it enacts against you. It requires a fortification of self, a bravery that is unfathomable to most. These women’s stories may never be told in full, but their experiences represent what most of us can see so clearly - there is no justice without care for women’s rights. 

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

Period Poverty

“When we make periods something everyone is learning about, we are doing our part to uproot this stigma. ”

Every month, 500 million women and girls suffer from period poverty globally. This impacts every aspect of their lives. Period poverty is an inability to secure the necessary products to maintain menstrual health. This encompasses both micro and macro challenges to accessing sanitation and menstrual products. 

There are a plethora of challenges to maintaining menstrual health, especially in nations already struggling to provide basic access to public health and sanitation. The UN has investigated many individual countries, but period poverty remains a global challenge to gender equality and sustainable development. 

Financial barriers like the luxury taxes that remain pervasive in the West force many lower-income families to make hard choices between providing for the women in their lives and meeting more general needs. Globally, around one in ten women and girls cannot afford the products they need. This leads to improvisation, which puts them at risk of the many complications that come with improper menstrual health. 

UNICEF reports that 2.1 billion people cannot effectively access sanitation. This extends beyond homes into schools and other public institutions and businesses. In the global south, where so many governments already struggle to provide public sanitation services, women and girls are disproportionately impacted. 

Moreover, this inability to access the resources needed for good menstrual hygiene can lead to several different health complications. If you grew up in the Americas, you have already been scared straight about toxic shock, but many of us have the means to escape it. Even scarier, being unable to access proper period care can lead to reproductive tract infections, Hepatitis B, and an increased risk of getting cervical cancer, making period poverty a global health crisis.  

But period poverty is about much more than just public health. In many parts of the world, young girls are forced out of their school routines to brave their monthly cycle at home. If we assume that every one of these girls bleeds for just three days a month in a ten-month school year, she will miss a month of class just because she is menstruating, setting her back for reasons entirely beyond her control.

These are the kinds of statistics and facts that confronted Nadya Okamoto when she was just starting as a period activist at 16. She says,” At the time, 40 states in the US had the “tampon tax” — a sales tax on period products considering them luxury goods.” It was at that time she knew she had to do something more. 

When I spoke to her, Nadya had this to say about the founding of her non-profit PERIOD; 

“I was inspired to learn more about menstrual inequity and period poverty after collecting an anthology of stories of their using toilet paper, socks, brown paper grocery bags, cardboard, and more, to take care of something so natural. Learning about the tampon tax, which I had not known about before age 16, was absolutely a big driver for me wanting to [start PERIOD].” 

Today, PERIOD is an international movement, addressing period poverty in dozens of communities all over the world. The organization has three pillars - education, advocacy, and service. It has democratized what it means to be involved in the fight against period poverty. Offering logistical and (more recently) financial support to activists pushing for progress in their hometowns. 

Nadya is no longer involved with the organization. She replaced herself as Executive Director earlier this year in January 2020, but she is continuing her period advocacy. She continues to announce new projects and create greater awareness. In fact, her latest venture was announced just last week. 

In 2018, Nadya released her book PERIOD POWER. When asked why she wrote the book, she said:

“I wrote PERIOD POWER as a way to spark more conversations about periods, and try to create a resource hub for any reader to find more information about periods and period-health, and learn more about the fight against period poverty and period stigma.”

It certainly has done just that. Thousands of people have awoken to the many challenges facing women and young girls, and it has undoubtedly been the catalyst for their activism. 

When I spoke with Nadya, I wanted to know what she saw as the causes of this unique form of poverty. She said, “Lack of access, research, and education are all components that play a role in period poverty. Period stigma is also a huge factor — because our society doesn't currently consider period products a necessity. The tampon tax and the inaccessibility of period products is further proof that our society views them as luxuries. This is a human issue, and it affects us all.” 

When we look around the world, men continue to dominate in political spheres creating even more challenges to change in this realm of activism. As of October 2020, women make up just 25% of the world’s parliaments. Men and boys continue to be uneducated on the realities of periods and the challenges women are facing. The stigma our societies perpetuate stops even our politicians and lawmakers from learning more about these issues. 

As millions of women and girls suffer through dangerously unhygienic periods and lead childhoods marred by a severe lack of education, one of the most significant challenges to uprooting this issue is the overwhelming lack of information on the problems facing the women and girls that matter. 

Education is essential, but the loftier task is normalization. As a society, we need to be challenging ourselves to learn more about periods and period poverty. Talk more openly about your struggles with the people around you, talk with your representatives about it. Bring these issues to the forefront of the political landscape you live in and your social circles. When we make periods something everyone is learning about, we are doing our part to uproot this stigma. 

There is so much more to be done at every level to tackle the issue. One of the crucial areas that need to be revolutionized is the corporate sector that profits arbitrarily from the people who menstruate who need the products they make and charge ridiculous prices. Activism needs to move from being just non-profit work and into the spaces, our oppressors are occupying-business. Nadya too feels that this is a big challenge to overcoming period poverty, saying when asked: 

“I think that the nonprofit industrial complex is something that we need to deconstruct as it is still very much perpetuating inequity around the world. I absolutely think that business, specifically hybrid models and social enterprises that we’re seeing arise, have incredible potential to make a difference. Something that was very frustrating for me while working in the nonprofit sector was that I felt like I had to go fundraise before actually doing the work, and, at a certain point, I found that all my time was being spent fundraising. The beauty of a business is that if you create a successful model, there will be a point where the business is naturally generating revenue, and you’ll be able to dedicate more of your time to specifically making an impact versus raising money.” 

Undoubtedly, the sustainability of both a movement and a non-profit is imperative to progress. And as we go forward in a fight that is so fundamental to so many people, those activists that are working hard to fix the problem must be doing so with everything they have. Nadya has been working in collaboration with her friend Nick Jain to start August. A company that wants to undo the stigma remains a challenge to achieving menstrual equality for all people who menstruate. They are currently focused on building a community that is working towards ending the stigma surrounding periods. In Spring, they will be releasing their very own line of period products. 

As period poverty continues to be a challenge to women’s rights, development, and public health, there is hope that more people like Nadya are paying attention and putting in the work to understand its causes and deal with its impacts. There is so much to be done to combat this growing issue in every single country. I encourage you to get involved, get reading, and get educated. Every single voice counts because, for all the change that needs to be made, nothing will happen if we are silent. 

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

How Sex Work Exposed My White Privilege

In 2020, people throughout the US and beyond have taken to the streets to protest systemic racism and injustice—yet how many of us have considered the effect of racism on sex workers? In my six years working as a professional submissive and switch at a commercial dungeon, I’ve seen firsthand how racism and other prejudices affect the entire sex worker community. In fact, my personal experience as a white sex worker, witnessing and questioning how to respond to acts of racism against my coworkers, is now mirrored by the way many white Americans are examining their own problematic attitudes and assumptions about race. 

When I began working at a commercial dungeon in Los Angeles in 2013, the diversity of the dungeon community was one of the aspects I most appreciated. I worked with Black, Latinx, and Asian-American women, and ladies who’d grown up in countries including Ireland and Russia. Our community was also diverse in many other ways—we were different ages, came from different educational and economic backgrounds, and had different life trajectories, with some of us in college, others who were artists and still others pursuing successful business careers in addition to our dungeon lives. 

The magic of our dungeon environment was that, as sex workers, we all shared a secret many in the outside world would judge us quite harshly for—and that one commonality frequently overpowered the other elements that might have divided us. I felt an instant bond with my coworkers that only grew stronger over time, as we all got to know each other in the often long waits between sessions. In the dungeon, I found a place where women didn’t judge each other by skin color, any more than we judged each other for our histories or our achievements. 

Yet even as entering the dungeon allowed me to join an inclusive community of women, working in this environment also showed me, perhaps more than any other experience in my life, my own white privilege. It was common knowledge that women of color at the dungeon booked less sessions, especially when working as submissives. As my Black coworker Violet puts it, working as a submissive was “not as lucrative as I thought it would be” for two main reasons: One, the dungeon’s clientele consisted mainly of older white men who wanted to spank, tie up and tickle what they considered a sweet, innocent-looking girl. As Violet points out, these men were “trying to relive their youths, [which] did not typically include interacting with Black people in general, so they saw right past me and opted for the slim, pale-skinned, soft brown-haired girls-next-door.” Secondly, clients who were younger were still predominantly Caucasian and typically “felt a sense of white guilt, and were uncomfortable beating a Black woman.”

Similarly, Lulu, who was the only Mexican-American woman at the dungeon when she began working there, noticed “I wasn’t getting as many sessions as the other girls” and “came to the realization that clients favored white females.” Lulu decided to “get better instead of bitter” by “investing more in my fetish outfits” and attending workshops to “expand my experience as a player”—however, her efforts were not always as successful as she hoped.

Due to the exact issues Violet and Lulu describe, in my early days at the dungeon as a submissive, I was often in session making money while my African-American and Latinx coworkers sat in the waiting room downstairs—and the only reason I was working when they weren’t was the color of my skin. Violet describes the frustration of quitting her job to “dedicate my full-time hours to the dungeon,” while “only managing to score three to four sessions a MONTH”—and also having to “listen to my white coworkers complaining that they didn’t have a minute to rest between sessions.” Lulu similarly noted that while her hard work and skill “helped some,” white girls “who put in little to no effort in their craft continued to get session after session.”  

Clearly, as women of color, Violet and Lulu had very different experiences at the dungeon than I did—ones that impacted their relationships with coworkers in addition to clients. And yes, I was one of those women complaining on days I had back-to-back sessions, without considering how my words might affect my fellow dungeon workers. My blind spots kept me from realizing that for some women, the dungeon might not always be the same welcoming, inclusive place I experienced—and my behavior directly contributed to that disparity.

Photo by Deon Black via pexels

As a white woman at the dungeon, I also didn’t have to deal with being confronted by stereotypes related to my race, the way many of my coworkers did. Asian-American submissives booked many sessions—as long as they were willing to play the “Asian schoolgirl.” My coworker Aimi, a first-generation Asian-American, says “there was definitely stereotyping—the worst of which was probably some guy calling to ask if I could speak English. When the desk mistress confirmed that I could, he was disappointed because he wanted an Asian girl who couldn’t.”

African-American women were also asked to take part in sessions that engaged directly with race. For instance, Violet recalls that her “very first client request was a plantation slave/master roleplay.” Women at the dungeon were never required to take these sessions, but even in being asked to do so, they had to deal with preconceptions based on the color of their skin—and I, as a white woman, did not. I was able to do my job without having to think about my greater ethnic identity, an added burden in an occupation that is already emotionally draining.

However, even as a white woman, I found that I couldn’t escape the negative effects of racism at the dungeon, just as none of us can deny the fact that racism affects us all in the larger world. At the dungeon, we had a repeat client we not-so-affectionately nicknamed “Racist Joe,” who liked to session with women of color and took every opportunity to comment on and ask about their ethnicities. One day, Racist Joe booked a double session with me and Lulu. By this point Lulu was a talented dominatrix, and I was always happy to session with her—with Joe, not so much. The two of us had sessioned with Joe before, and we knew what to expect: he wanted Lulu to “teach” me how to dominate him, how to give him a spanking and so on, even though I had already been a switch for a while and I knew how to do my job.

Lulu and I were suffering together through the session, trying to avoid Joe’s sweaty body as much as possible and pretend we were excited about the prospect of “torturing” this out-of-shape old white man, when out of nowhere, despite the fact that neither of us had uttered a curse word, Joe looked straight at Lulu’s lips and said: “You know, I’ve always wanted to wash a Mexican girl’s mouth out with soap, because you all have such dirty mouths.”

Lulu turned and walked right out of the session room, and I didn’t blame her. My shock had overtaken my own emotional reaction, and I knew my responsibility for the moment was to keep Joe occupied for however long Lulu needed to collect herself. I don’t even remember what I did for those minutes she was gone. I was panicked, caught up in a conflict that felt like it was both mine and not mine at the same time. I was disgusted by Joe’s words, but at the same time, I had no idea what Lulu—the person the comment had been aimed at—was experiencing. I could do my best to empathize, but since I had never received a derogatory comment based solely on my race, I couldn’t truly understand.

Eventually, Lulu returned holding the bottle of liquid hand soap we kept in the bathroom down the hall. She showed it to Joe and said, “I’d like to wash your mouth out with this right now,” but because she was a professional—even in a situation where her client was being completely unprofessional—she put the soap down and we finished the session. 

As soon as Joe left and we were cleaning the room, I said, “I can’t believe he said that!” 

Lulu replied, “Yeah, I just…I had to get out of there for a minute.” I wasn’t sure what else to say—or if Lulu even wanted to discuss the matter any further—and for better or for worse, that was the extent of our conversation. When I interviewed Lulu for this article, she said, “I remember feeling so angry and insulted I walked out of the session.”

Although I couldn’t understand exactly what Lulu was feeling, I was angry too.

Shortly after that session, I decided not to session with “Racist Joe” again. There were plenty of other things I disliked about his sessions, in addition to the offensive comments. But somehow, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. I was writing a novel at the time, and without my consciously choosing to include him, “Racist Joe” became a part of my story. He morphed into an unsavory diner owner in the 1950s, who could assault his waitresses and spit out racial slurs with impunity. I spent hours imagining a scene where one of those waitresses—secretly a powerful dominatrix—corners Joe and nearly cuts his balls off until he promises to behave himself.

Clearly, even though the real-life Racist Joe’s comments weren’t aimed at me, they had a strong effect on my psyche. I’m still thinking about what Joe said—and about how I reacted, or didn’t, and what I could have done differently—more than two years after the incident took place. Maybe a part of me sensed this was about more than one isolated experience; now, a few years later, I’m seeing my own struggle reflected on a much broader level. White people who consider themselves on the side of equality are now acknowledging that they’ve contributed to the problem of systemic racism, simply by going along with the status quo. 

I still don’t know what exactly I might have done during this situation: Should I have voiced my disapproval of Racist Joe’s comments to his face, even though he was a client? Should I have offered more support to Lulu after the fact, or would doing so have only made her uncomfortable? But I do know that in the greater upheaval we’re all living through at the moment, white people can’t remain inactive, paralyzed by our worries. We can’t go on blaming the “Racist Joes,” the people whose behavior is blatantly problematic, without acknowledging the larger system of inequality that allows injustice both obvious and insidious to continue.

If the escalating problem of police brutality and the higher impact of COVID among people of color has made one thing clear, it’s this: our society won’t change unless people of all races take part in dismantling systems of oppression. We have to ask the uncomfortable questions. We have to think about how racism, prejudice and inequality affect every aspect of our society, even the ones—like sex work—we might consider unimportant or overlook. 

We have a long way to go, but one thing is clear: silence and inaction isn’t an option. Until we can acknowledge the impact of systemic racism in even the most marginalized areas of our society, we can’t truly take steps toward equality for all humans.

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SC Stephanie is a graduate of the Master of Professional Writing program at USC, and I have been published in the HuffPost, Entropy, and many other publications.

The Guerrilla Girls

I first discovered Guerrilla Girls in 2005 – I had never heard of the group. Not a whisper or casual comment, an article or a headline, title tattle or gossip - you get my point.   I had attended an exhibition called ‘Imagine a World’ at Barge house Gallery in London launched by Amnesty International as part of its global campaign:  ‘Stop Violence Against Women’. 

An exhibition of contemporary art that aimed to make people stop and think about the impact of violence against females.  The exhibition featured paintings, photography, and sculptures.   A wonderful interactive experience in which myself and other visitors were asked to "Imagine a World without Violence" and our responses formed part of the exhibition.

Image via the Tate museum.

The New York Activists Guerrilla Girls first ever appearance caused quite a stir at the Barge house, with their mix of seductive art and feminist politics. As I watched, taking in their greedily, and memorized by the celebrated poster emblazoned with "Do Women have to be Naked to get into the Met Museum,” I had found a new art crush. Crush seems such an infantile word for a moment so powerful so let me explain in another way; My senses felt ignited as if liquid adrenaline had been injected into my blood stream. Around that time, I had connected with third way feminism and had become more and more curious about Protest Art and Intersectional Feminism - A term devised by Kimberle Williams Crenshaw. My eyes had just opened to the fuckery in our social order and I believed and still do that women experience levels of repression caused by gender, color, disability, and class.  In the ‘Guilty Feminist, (2019)  Deborah Frances-Whites writes:

 ‘It’s harder to be a black, queer, broke, deaf woman than it is to be a rich straight, non-disabled, middle class, white woman, and if feminism doesn’t address that, then its part of the patriarchy’ 

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“My illustrious lordship, I’ll show you what a woman can do.”

—   Artemisia Gentileschi 

To me the purpose of art is to make me think, and to make me think is to move me.  Therefore, Guerrilla Girls were a much-needed discovery. Women fighting for justice with furry faces, short muzzles, enormous brow ridges and large nostrils. This resonated exactly with my sense of humor, I was never going to forget them in a hurry! After looking into their work, I relished the activist approach that they had adopted and felt I could connect with this attitude.  They spoke “truth” to me in a witty and powerful way. ‘The Conscience of the Art World’ (Guerrilla Girls 1995- 2020). 

“Speak up. Say something. Your words have the power to change the fucking world.”

— Florence Given: Taken from: ‘Women Don’t Owe You Pretty’ 2020 

Guerrilla Girls use facts, humor, and visuals to expose sexism, racism, and corruption in the art world. True art for me is channelled through the heart and mind, guided by emotions that stir the soul and the imagination.  Guerrilla Girls have the ability in one poster to express a thousand words in a second, and a hundred different stories.

“Fight for the things that you care about. But do it in a way
that will lead others to join you.”

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933-2020)

The GG’s (as I affectionately call them) began in 1985 in New York City. Angered by the lack of recognition for female artists and fed up with being overlooked by  leading institutions of art in the United States including MoMA curator Kynaston McShine who publicly said that anyone who failed to be included in an international survey of contemporary paintings should reconsider his career, decided that they should take the task on of bringing gender and racial inequality into focus. The group (Guerrilla Girls’ 1985 – 2020) consists of founding members Frida Kahlo & Kathe Kollwitz and other unidentified artists/art professionals who have assumed the names of deceased female artists. The group wore gorilla masks to maintain anonymity and "to keep the focus on the issues rather than our personalities." (Guerrilla Girls 1985-2020). 

Image via the Tate museum.

Any establishment who did not represent the work of enough women and artists of color in their exhibitions became a target for the social critics. As a source of inspiration to other female artists and artists of color, they began pasting sly posters with meanings and stickers in visible places near art galleries and museums in New York City conveying strong messages. Their first posters, devoid of imagery, relied on text and graphic design, to make sharp social commentary - A statement directed toward the underrepresentation of women in the art world with bullet points supporting evidence of gender discrimination (Naming and shaming). Specific museums, galleries and individuals were a target for their metaphorical bow and arrows, used to shoot truth in the form of words. The arrows of deliverance getting right into the center of the community to speak reality, sending the GG’s in the direction where they needed to be heard. 

‘

Over the past thirty-five years  Guerrilla Girls have plastered billboards with slogans like "Do women have to be naked to get into the Met Museum?" "The Advantages of Being a Woman in the Art World", Male-Female Pay Gap to Gender Inequality at the Oscars; “Unchain the Women”, and “Acts of Police Violence in the US Are Crimes Against Humanity 2020”. They have written a variety of works, including ‘The Guerrilla Girl’s Bedside Companion to the History of Western Art’ and ‘Hysterical Herstory of Hysteria’ and basically said fuck you to the art world where males hold primary power and predominate and have collaborated with Greenpeace, created over 100 street projects, appeared at museums and universities as well as in the broad sheets -  including British newspaper The Guardian, The New York Times, NBC News, BBC News as well as many feminist and art writings  (Guerrilla Girls 1985-2020).  All under the disguise of the great ape masks. 

The group attracted a fair share of criticism in the early years.  Roberta Smith -Art Critic of the New York Times - was displeased to see her name on a poster that listed 22 critics who wrote about women less than 10 % of the time.

“Hardly any artists had the guts to attack the sacred cows. 
We were immediately THE topic at dinner parties, openings, even on the street. Who were these women? How dare they say that? Women artists loved us, almost everyone hated us, and none of them  could stop talking about us.”

— Anais Nin  (Guerrilla girls 1995-2020)

 ‘As an art critic, I part company with them on their attitude toward the 

notion of quality, which they see as a nonissue’

The GG’s involvement in the conventional and established art world reflects their success in raising attention to racism and sexism.  They have influenced the work of artists such as  Micol Hebron . In her Gallery Tally Project, Hebron counts the representation of women in international galleries. The GG’s also set the stage for other opinionated feminist groups such as Pussy Riot. A Russian feminist punk rock group who tackle LGBTQ rights amongst other issues. ‘To me, they are art world royalty’:  David Kiehl -Whitney American Museum of Art Curator.

There are many more battles to fight but GG’s relentless crusade has played a vital role in edging us closer to true equality and acceptance. 

Image via the Tate museum.

GG’s altered the relationship between art and politics. Activism seems not only acceptable, but vital in the art world. They prompted critics and curators to be more inclusive of women and minorities. The masked crusaders are as valid and needed today, as they were 35 years ago. People need the truth to thrive. Truth is important. Indeed, art and ethics are intimately related, artistic, and ethical values each have unique roles to play in the art world, but neither can operate independently.  Art may please; Art can be a pleasure to look at, but extraordinary art can outrage, move, question, or change perception. The disguised group of gals is still going strong and incognito 35 years after they first announced their mission to blow the whistle on an art world dominated by men. They are everywhere but nowhere.  Those very women could be the solo artist whose show you just saw in Manhattan. (Not impossible).  A curator that gave a talk to you and your friends in a gallery in Soho. (You never know).  Your art lecturer at Long Island University (Wouldn’t that be awesome).  The woman you just brushed shoulders with in Bed, Bath and Beyond on 6th Avenue.  (You kinda wondered why there was a furry mask sticking out of her purse!) 

What will the next 35 years hold? Asteroids? Aliens landing? Seriously though, will there be change in global human behavior? World economy? The Class System? Education?  Whatever happens I want the Guerrilla Girls fighting my corner.   

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Justina Jameson is an emerging writer from the UK. When she is not writing at the weekend, she can be found holding down a 9 to 5 as a Senior Administrative. Justina has  a Social Welfare and Community Degree which examines the quality of human life in a society in all its dimensions. She feels strongly in female empowerment and believes that women should make personal and professional choices that they want  and not let society make them very guilty about those very choices. Justina likes art, dogs, books, laughter and lives with her long tern partner and their dog Cooper-Star.

Lets talk…..Period.

To help keep a healthy body and mind during the second lock down, I have been walking each day. I wrap up warm taking along a flask of coffee. Last week my walk ended abruptly. I felt the familiar wet warmth down below and a cramp crept around my lower stomach - I had an unexpected visit from Aunt Flo, the crimson tide, mother nature’s gift, and any other euphemisms you wish to call it. (Personally, I like to call it the pain in the arse!) Muttering under my breath as I turned back, I grumbled how unfair life was. I know, I know, but in my defense, I am extremely irritable when it is my time of the month. 

Do you know what I did when I got home?  I had a warm soapy bath. Afterwards I grabbed a sanitary pad; a hot water bottle and made a sugary cup of tea. Then as I stretched out on the sofa with cushions popped behind my back, a water bottle on my belly and a hot cup of tea in my hand, I had a reality check. Here was me pissed off that my walk was caught short, yet I can come home and have everything at my fingertips.  What do people do who are homeless or on low income?   What does a person do when they are on the street or have to decide that milk Is more important for the kid’s cereal?

When thinking of hygiene products for the homeless: soap, razors and toothpaste spring to mind. Why has tampons and pads eluded me? Why did I not think of these essential items? I decided to investigate further and started exploring campaigns and charities that help with distributing hygiene products. 

There are many organizations and charities working hard to raise awareness and trying to put an end to period poverty. After an internet search I could see there were many worthwhile causes such as Blossom Project, Dignity-Matters, and Bloody Good Period to name but a few. However, the one that resonated with me was Tricky Period who are based in London.

Tricky Period was set up by Caroline Allouf and a small team of volunteers who were already working to support homeless people on the streets of North London for Street Kitchen.  Caroline wanted to address the horror for many women that live on the street and are unable to afford basic period products. At Street Kitchen Caroline and other volunteers were regularly hearing stories from women with no choice but to shoplift, skip meals and use newspaper to provide their monthly protection.   

‘None of these things we say are an exaggeration,

 I mean in the terms of people literally having nothing.

 Coming in stained, having to steal, using leaves in knickers.’ 

It was then that Caroline realized that something had to be done and the grassroots project was born at the beginning of the year (2020).

Caroline and the gang launched Period Poverty at the Vagina Museum in Camden London in February 2020. The Vagina Museum is about erasing the sigma around the body and spreading awareness of gynecological anatomy. Caroline said, “this felt totally apt”.

The gang distribute pads, tampons with applicators and without, wipes and disposable bags to women’s shelters, refuges, mother and baby units as well as the women on the streets via breakfast outreach. Tricky Period have teamed up with ShowerBox London, a  free and secure shower and changing rooms which travel around London providing support for the homeless and this makes for a good partnership. “It’s a great opportunity to start conversations with the women” said Caroline, and notes that throughout outreach she has noticed a rise in homeless women. “Sadly, and this is a non-scientific approach from being out there, but there are noticeably younger women”. Some backdrop of these cases are of domestic violence, leaving home and then having nowhere to go in lock down. Caroline has come across women that will sleep with men just for a bed for the night. 

Photo by Anna Shvets.

Tricky Period are working with a growing number of council libraries who are acting as product pick up points. They have been collaborating with libraries to provide period products to those experiencing homelessness and poverty. “It’s a model that can be replicated,” explains Caroline. The free supplies to libraries enable the women to come and get what they need under a no questions asked policy. Caroline says “the idea of libraries is that it is one of the few places in the community where everyone is welcome and safe – especially the homeless, people can walk into a library and not be looking over their shoulders or feel self-conscious.” Anyone who needs to use the service can tick off the items on a form and hand it over to a librarian. Caroline adds, “Just like they would go out the back to find a book that wasn’t on the shelf they then come out with the products in a bag”. She is keen to reiterate that this is a no questions asked policy.  

With COVID-19 closing libraries Tricky Period have had to adapt in the lockdown and have been able to use family centers with open access. The future of Tricky Period is to focus on a space where women can feel safe, have a coffee, and enjoy the company of others.  “Not just between 3pm and 5pm, and we are already connecting people to make that happen.” She is also excited to expand the library model.  

I asked Caroline to describe the essence of Tricky Period:

“Tricky Period are just human beings building trust and relationships.

There are other projects, amazing projects out there. What matters to us

is that the people are getting what they need. We want to be able

to develop relationships with the most vulnerable women and support them.”

The realization of the lack of access to sanitary products is shocking. Many low-income and homeless women often don't have access to tampons and pads at all. Women confront the demoralizing task of finding resources to soak up blood and then having to find privacy to change and dispose of used items. Menstruation is not only a physical challenge for vulnerable people, but it’s also a psychological and social issue. I have never had to make the decision on either spending money on food so that I am not hungry or spending it on pads so that I am comfortable and dry. I’ve never had to use napkins from McDonald’s, and I don’t need to rip up a t shirt to line my knickers.

Pads, tampons, and liners are desperately needed. Initiatives, charities, food banks, and shelters distribute them, but they're often in short supply. Even more so in the current climate (COVID-19).  Please check out and support your local and regional organizations and if you can please donate.

Resources:

• Click here for details of Tricky Period

• Follow Tricky Period Facebook

• Follow Tricky Period Twitter

• Click here for details of Blossom Project

• Follow Blossom Project Instagram

• Follow Blossom Project Facebook

• Click here for details of Bloody Good Period

• Click here for details of Dignity Matters

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Justina Jameson is an emerging writer from the UK. When she is not writing at the weekend, she can be found holding down a 9 to 5 as a Senior Administrative. Justina has a Social Welfare and Community Degree which examines the quality of human life in a society in all its dimensions. She feels strongly in female empowerment and believes that women should make personal and professional choices that they want and not let society make them very guilty about those very choices. Justina likes art,dogs, books, laughter and lives with her long tern partner and their dog Cooper-Star.

Unfinished Solidarities

N is a seemingly quiet, perceptive woman in her late 20s whose only caveat before she came in for her first therapy appointment was to ask that she be the last client of the evening. She didn’t fill her intake form which is a preliminary information gathering sheet that helps me get some basic medical and personal history of clients/patients before the appointment in order to better understand them.

A lot of clients either forget or need several reminders to fill it before an appointment. Nothing unusual there. N dropped me an email and asked me if it was ok for her to verbally give an intake when she came to the clinic. I agreed.

We began our session with a cup of tea; she seemed apprehensive, uncomfortable. Again, nothing unusual for first timers in therapy. I assumed it was the sudden exposure to the contemplative silence of a therapeutic setting. Suddenly she burst forth with a single, shaking sentence –“Ma’am, I have to tell you about my job.” My assumption was that she perhaps was unemployed and maybe needed pro bono help or wanted to inquire about sliding scale payments in which clients pay as per financial wherewithal per session. Before I could ask anything, she sighed – “I work as an escort. I am not sure if you counsel people like me. I am sorry if I am wasting your time.”

“People like me” is a phrase that can carry such translucent contradictions; evident yet indistinct. A person using it either feels mousetrapped, isolated in their identity or very sui generis. The only response that felt suitable in that moment was to sit back and listen rather than assume what was N’s story.

Over a period in time as I have gotten to know her, I reckon she is a rarity among those who use sex work in India as their main source of income. N works on her own, can exert some autonomy and makes choices based on her own discretion when it comes to her clientele. This has not come easy to her. She is a high-school dropout who was slung headfirst in Bombay’s chaotic riddle when she was barely 16. The map to her present has been involute. Over the years as she moved from being a dancer in one of Bombay’s infamous dance bars to her current profile of being what she calls a date-for-pay. She is incredibly smart and she has taken time and effort to educate herself on her rights even though the realistic expression of those rights is usually negligible and compromised in a country that pivots on patriarchal supremacy dehumanizing and delegitimizing the personhood of women.

Accessing mental health help is already a thorny path in most parts of the world. Common cultural stigmas, limited funding, poor practitioner-to-patient ratios, disorganized psychiatric epidemiology and a widespread inclination towards a pathologizing, purely bio-medical model that often doesn’t factor psychosocial causation for mental and emotional wellness all contribute to this quagmire. This is especially flagrant in the Global South where poverty, climate apocalypse and increasing ethno-fascist regimes have impaired an already derelict public health infrastructure, if at all one call it that.

“In South Asia, depressive disorders accounted for 9.8 million DALYs (95% UI: 6.8–13.2 million) or 577.8 (95% UI: 399.9–778.9) per 100,000 population in 2016. Of these, major depressive disorders (MDD) accounted for 7.8 million DALYs (95% UI: 5.3–10.5 million). India generated the largest numbers of DALYs due to depressive disorders and MDD, followed by Bangladesh and Pakistan.”

The burden of depressive disorders in South Asia, 1990–2016: findings from the global burden of disease study (Ogbo, Mathsyaraja, Koti, Perez & Page)

The high prevalence of depression-spectrum conditions cause a massive overall health challenge to physical well being leading to increased co-morbidity for diabetes, coronary diseases, poor infant mortality rates and neo-natal health, increased self-harm and suicidal ideation as well as substance abuse. This complex weave is rendered more inelastic due to prolonged wait time for getting any reliable medical assistance and a general lack of affordability. This is exacerbated when you are positioned at the intersection of caste, gender, class and sexual orientation in such a way that disenfranchisement is means to keep an electoral imbalance for cheap political wins.

Sex work till date carries its own taboos irrespective of how progressive a society claims to be. While studying for a forensic course, I was always appalled by how victims of “serial offenders” especially murderers who started their trajectory by attacking sex workers were referred to as “high risk” as if the nature of their work was solely responsible for the inhumane treatment meted out to them, not the internalised misogyny of the those who committed the violence.

In a no-nonsense essay, “How being a sex worker affected my mental health”, British sex worker and activist who uses the pseudonym Mitzi Poesener wrote -

“However, contrary to popular view of sex work, it is not a one way ticket to a breakdown. The difference between us and workers in other industries is that when we seek help we are asked to look at the ways we’ve kept ourselves out of poverty as shameful.”

N’s hesitation towards revealing her profession became more palpable when she described her attempts at visiting a psychiatrist while in the throes of a heavy depressive spiral brought about by her mother’s death a few years ago. She was both mentally and physically violated in a place designated to be refuge away from judgment. This had put her off from seeking any further help till, wait for it, a regular client of hers convinced her to try therapy again and passed her my details. Apparently, he had a significant social media presence and that’s how he’d chanced upon me. She researched me for days before she called my practice for an appointment.

The National Human Rights Commission of India has recently issued an advisory that now lists sex workers as informal workers in India. This move came in the wake of COVID 19 and also to take cognizance of the fact that a lot of sex workers in India are from marginalised sections of the society. The real-time impact of this declaration is something we can only wait and assess over time. A close friend who works towards providing affordable healthcare to sex workers in remote, often neglected red-light districts in two-tier and three-tier Indian cities is not as jubilant about this new development because they believe that systemic corruption coupled with a pervasive casteist, sexist bent of our society won’t let such proliferation make any real dents. Their pessimism has its own historicity.

There is also the more vicious and embittering side of this coin which involves human trafficking, sex tourism and forced prostitution that often sweeps up the most defenseless amongst us. Young girls, particularly from oppressed communities (e.g. lower castes in India or BIPOC and immigrants elsewhere) are often sold into flesh trade and these rackets stretch across a vast geopolitical radius. Socio-economic disparities are growing as capitalism fails to realise most of its promises. Once again, there is limited community-focused work on rehabilitation for those who have experienced these atrocities.

In a study titled “Burden and correlates of mental health diagnoses among sex workers in an urban setting”, the researchers drew a valid and significant conclusion –

Women in sex work faced disproportionate social and health inequities compared to the general population.

Evidence-informed interventions tailored to sex workers that address intersections between trauma and mental health should be further explored, alongside policies to foster access to safer workspaces and health services.

The key challenges to mental health help for sex workers can be listed as follows –

Compound Stigma– Even trained professionals often show stringent biases stiffened by inflexible echo chambers in which they exist. It is harrowing for someone to wade through all the aforementioned complexities that make mental health care usually unreachable to then face reproach or flippant remarks about the nature of their work or worse, character. Clients of mine have narrated abdominal experiences of dealing with GPs, psychiatrists and psychologists that bordered on uninformed, invasive and prejudiced/small-minded abuse. In a world that often invisibilizes people who engage in consensual sex work or, worse, makes them feel chronically unsafe, trusting a professional is an act of courage. This courage extinguishes itself when the professional is unable to remove themselves from a regressive and essentialist understanding of sex and sexuality. For example, a former sex worker and single mother who visited a local hospital for guidance about what she believed to be PTSD and vaginismus, she was repeatedly chided about her past just because she chose to be honest while providing her medical history.

Affordability & Access – Sex work– for a significant percentage of people who willingly engage in it– is still an unsteady source of regular income. If you are not covered by sufficient insurance which again is hard to access if you are primarily working as a freelancer within an irregular setup, being able to find a reliably inexpensive psychiatric or therapeutic intervention is often a pipe dream.

Individualizing of Harm – The most popular contemporary models for assessing mental health tends to lean heavily towards a biomedical model that has its uses but often doesn’t make enough space for psychosocial factors involved in a person’s suffering. One can’t deny that neurochemical and biological markers are relatively important when discussing mental health and illness but we need to be more receptive to the formulation around social inequities linked to race, class, caste, gender and sexuality based discriminations that dent people’s wellbeing on several levels. The DSM or the Diagnostic Statistic Manual which of often used by mental health practitioners to code and diagnose mental illness is a debated creed and for good reason but still it considers/includes both disorder/disease and distress models of mental health. Yet, there is a disproportionate attention paid to pathology where a person’s wellness or illness is often attributed to faulty wiring on an individual level v/s ecology where a person’s response to acute and persistent exposure to debilitating circumstances is relegated to the back-burner.

Marginalisation – Queer and trans folks are further penalised for engaging in sex work and often experience the most dreadful consequence – an ever looming threat to their lives. Fighting for a dignified acceptance of identity is compounded by limited vocational options that respect the whole human being. In a report published by National Center for Transgender Equality, it was noted that in the US nearly 40% of the respondents were denied shelter when homeless and almost 60% reported that they had attempted suicide at some point in their lives. In India, the presence of caste further stigmatizes a transgender person’s right to safety and acceptance. This often enables hyper-sexualization of transgender identities by cisfolks to devastating consequences. Till date, there is little to no inclusion about trans rights in most mental health syllabi used in colleges in India. Queer theorists and academics are working to change this but it is slow. Most research around their health and wellbeing is often carried under a cis gaze as well.

The sizable role played by law enforcement’s frequent viciousness against those in sex work is also undeniable. Most sex workers report frequently barbaric encounters with members of the police force. There have been various news stories and investigative journalism pieces that refer to collusion by members of such agencies in sex trafficking rings.

Sex work is a complex conversation that can’t take place if we begin viewing its entire existence with a jaundiced eye. It involves precarity for those who participate in it. There are evident dangers to mental health and wellness for sex workers but let us also understand and pay attention to how much of that is caused by social prejudice against sex and sexuality. On the one hand, independent sex workers who engage is mutually consented activities are pathologized, limited rehabilitation is available for those women/persons who have been rescued from illegal sex trade that festers across the landscape of the Global South.

Mental health practitioners need to educate themselves and be open to learning as they go. Accessibility for on-time healthcare is a matter of human rights. Antipathy cloaked in “traditionalism” is an offshoot of social conditioning and it needs to be disassembled. This has to be a process that rests on unconditional compassion, not a one-time event hinged on dubious charity. Challenging our own programming as therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists, our implicit scripts built on vague morality and questioning the lack of support for folks merely on account of their profession is only the entry point of this change. Centering the needs of our clients in therapy is the first rule of therapy. This shouldn’t be forgotten or compromised.

Citations:

The burden of depressive disorders in South Asia, 1990–2016: findings from the global burden of disease study (Felix Akpojene Ogbo, Sruthi Mathsyaraja, Rajeendra Kashyap Koti, Janette Perz & Andrew Page) https://bmcpsychiatry.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s12888-018-1918-1

How being a sex worker affected my mental health (Mitzi Poesener, Dazed Digital)

https://www.dazeddigital.com/artsandculture/article/35938/1/how-being-a-sex-worker-affected-my-mental-health

Criminalisation of clients: reproducing vulnerabilities for violence and poor health among street-based sex workers in Canada—a qualitative study (A Krüsi, K Pacey, L Bird, C Taylor1, J Chettiar, S Allan, D Bennett, J S Montaner, T Kerr, K Shannon)

http://bmjopen.bmj.com/content/4/6/e005191.full

Psychiatric morbidity among female commercial sex workers (Marboh Goretti Iaisuklang and Arif Ali) https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5806326/

Burden and correlates of mental health diagnoses among sex workers in an urban setting (Nitasha Puri, Kate Shannon, Paul Nguyen & Shira M. Goldenberg) https://bmcwomenshealth.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s12905-017-0491-y

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Scherezade Siobhan is an award-winning psychologist, writer, educator and a community catalyst who founded and runs The Talking Compass — a therapeutic space dedicated to providing mental counseling services and decolonizing mental health care. Her work is published or forthcoming in Medium, Berfrois, Quint, Vice, HuffPost, Feministing, Jubilat, The London Magazine among others. She is the author of “Bone Tongue” (Thought Catalog Books, 2015), “Father, Husband” (Salopress, 2016) and “The Bluest Kali” ( Lithic Press, 2018). Find her @zaharaesque on twitter. Send her chocolate and puppies — nihilistwaffles@gmail.com. Tweet at her @zaharaesque.

La Violencia Simbólica: Undoing the Myth of Passion Killings

The brutal murder of Chiara Páez by her boyfriend sparked the beginning of the feminist movement of “Ni Una Menos” in Argentina. Her body was found buried outside of her boyfriend’s home; Chiara was just 14, she was pregnant and scared, and she was murder by the father of her would-be child. 

That was just the surface; as the trial unfolded, the details of her suffering rapted the country with intrigue. Only twenty hours into the investigation, her 16 year old boyfriend confessed. He told his father everything, how he forced her to take an abortion pill, how he killed her, and how he buried her and misled detectives by tampering with her phone. He confessed to all of it, and he told the police the same thing when his father brought him to the station later that day. 

Yet, armed with all of this knowledge, the judge sentenced this boy to just 21 years. The penal code in Argentina would have allowed the judge to pursue a life sentence, to threaten him with the same loss of life, but instead, he gave him another chance. A clear path to freedom. The judge said that he based his ruling on the perpetrator’s demonstrated guilt and remorse. 

The murder of Chiara began the movement, which soon spread across the whole continent. “Ni Una Menos” has been one of the most well-known forms of resistance against femicide. While it started in Argentina, it has inspired many other feminists in the region to begin their fight. Her death was a wake-up call for the nation, a big red flag that called into question much more than femicide but the state of women’s rights all over the country. 

There was something special about her death, something that shook the core of Argentina. Maybe it was the fear that laid dormant in every mother that their sons could be so cruel or the shock at someone so young following in the footsteps of the hundreds of men that had the same thing. Maybe they realized they had let these sentiments fester for far too long, and this was just the manifestation of that. No one can be sure, but feminists all over Argentina were happy to be supported, and that June, the first march for the “Ni Una Menos” movement was held. 

Art by Manu Ka

What the people didn't know - what they couldn’t until now was that they built around their sons, a society that breeds male violence. Moreover, one that entices us to accept it and be complicit in the actions of patriarchal and structural violence. Piere Bordieu first theorized of la violencia simbolica, or symbolic violence, and it describes perfectly the way patriarchal oppression is built into our language, customs, and worldviews.

For this article, I had the chance to talk with Ornela. She works with the NGO FENA in Argentina to combat the narratives that symbolic violence creates. She described symbolic violence as:

“[La violencia simbólica] básicamente son un montón de prácticas sociales, culturales, psicológicas que lo que hacen sentar las  bases para que las otras formas de violencia sean posibles. La violencia simbólica es la primera de todas las violencias en tanto es la que permite construir la creencia de que alguien vale menos que las otras personas. ”

“Symbolic violence is a bunch  of social, cultural, and psychological practices that lay the groundwork for other forms of violence to be possible. Symbolic violence is the first of all the acts of violence as it allows someone to think that they are worth less than others.”

It is about the small ways we, as a society, not just allow for violence against women but also incite and normalize that violence. It is the understanding that men have unearned ownership over women’s bodies. It is embedded in the very fabric of so many societies globally.

It is the reason that a young man felt he could unilaterally decide that his young girlfriend should have an abortion. It is the reason that he could ever envision murdering her. The same reason the judge’s ruling on this case came years later spat in the face of all of the goodness that sprouted from this tragedy—another notch on the belt of female oppression. 

To say so boldly that you know what was done and you understand its wrongfulness has been proven beyond a reasonable doubt, and yet find it within yourself to give this boy mercy. It makes a mockery of her suffering, and it fuels a global narrative that seeks to normalize and legitimize male violence.

Symbolic violence is vital to understanding the whole iceberg of violence against women, as Ornela said: “El feminicidio es la más terrible de todas las formas de violencia que pueden haber contra una mujer: significa matarla  por su condición de mujer”

“Femicide is the most terrible of all the forms of violence against women: killing  her just for being a woman.”

A big part of FENA, and by extension, the work of all feminist collectives in the country, is making women aware of this. Symbolic violence is insidious, and it is that embedded nature that makes it so corrosive. It encourages women to internalize and accept their oppression.

Ornela summed this up perfectly, saying;

“Si en un lado tengo a una  persona que no creo que sea superior a mí, y yo, al mismo tiempo, no me creo inferior a esa otra persona es bastante difícil que esa persona me oprima” 

“If, on one side, I have a person that I don’t think is superior to me, and I don’t think I am inferior to this other person, it is very difficult for that person to oppress me.” 

The problem is that there are messages everywhere in the patriarchal system that holds dominion over much of Argentinian society. At every turn, whether it is in your classroom, at home, or on TV, women are encouraged to be complicit in their oppression. Ornela puts this into context, with particular reference to the jokes that are prevalent in Latinx society:

“Todo lo que tiene que ver con la creación de los chistes, de las normas, de los lugares comunes, de las imágenes que nos vemos, de los mensajes que consumimos.”

“Everything that has to do with the creation of jokes, norms, common places, the images that we see, and the messages we consume.”  

The implicit message women are seeing is that their bodies are not their own. This creates problems that stretch far beyond the realm of the crimes themselves. 

Often femicides are reported as “crimes of passion,” a label that coddles and insulates the men involved from the real horror of their crimes. Initially, Páez’s case was referred to in the same way. A young boy overwhelmed and overcome by anger. This is just another way we are creating distance between men and their socially indoctrinated violence. 

Ornela had this to say about the misreporting of these sensitive cases: “Antes hablábamos de crímenes de pasión, ‘La mató por celos’ o ‘No soportó que lo dejara’. Eso también es una manera de violencia simbólica. En los medios por ejemplo, banalizan lo que son los feminicidios, dicen que son crímenes pasionales, que son problemas domésticos, que son temas familiares, que no son problemas estructurales. [...] Tratan de correr la de idea de que te matan por ser mujer, y que te mataron porque tu marido se enojó o ‘es un loco’. Así se normaliza la violencia masculina.”

“Before we talked about crimes of passion, “He killed her because he was jealous” or “He couldn’t stand her leaving him’. That is also a form of symbolic violence. In the media, for example, they trivialize femicides. They say that they are crimes of passion, that they are domestic problems, that these are things you see in a family, and they aren’t structural problems. [...] They try to give you this idea that they didn’t kill her for being a woman; she was murdered  because her husband was angry or he was crazy. This normalizes male violence.” 

Argentinian society is imploring its women to rationalize and accept male violence. In an eerie way, it asks them to simply sit with the idea that the men they live with and love might one day snap and murder them for whatever profoundly personal reason. It is a despicable thing to ask the women of a nation to do, and more and more of them are waking up to it. “Ni Una Menos” is just one reflection of all the many important and prominent ways women are doing away with the idea that they should; “romanticize a myriad of oppressions.” 

As Ornela put it, the country has hit a turning point, or at least a lot of the women have. Women have come to understand that

“No es un loco, no es un enfermo, es un hijo sano del patriarcado.”

“He is not crazy; he is not sick; he is a healthy son of the patriarchy.” 

That hasn’t meant as much as many hoped in the way of actual changes. It has been five years since the “Ni Una Menos” movement began and things have yet to pivot. Femicide rates have reached a ten year high since quarantine restrictions were set within the already fraught nation. This year is set to the worst for violence against women since the nation first began to count femicides in 2012.

One of the greatest challenges faced by the movement is trying to change the heart of the nation. These narratives - the ones that encourage to accept this violence or that attempt to diminish it in hopes of ignoring their true origins are seductive. They entice us to see the world with rose coloured glasses that blind us to the realities of the violence we are seeing. But we must do away with those ideas if we hope to make any real meaningful change. 

That is what FENA works so hard to do. It is about deconstructing the narratives that surround us, and giving women the power to create new ones. A lot of that is rooted grassroots activism, for and by women, but there needs to be more. Argentina is finally understanding what needs to be done, and after this horrific year there are genuine hopes that real systemic changes are on the horizon. 

Art by Manu Ka, Photo by Alejandra Ruiz

In early 2020, the Argentinian government unveiled the Ministry of Women, Gender, and Diversity. The first issue the Ministry is meant to tackle is identifying the root causes of gender based violence, and devising a plan for that the government might use to prevent the issue from growing. What this ministry hopes to do, in truth, is to undo this myth of passion and fervour and identify the true cause of anti-woman violence. Their true mission, however, is to give women the confidence and freedom they need to be “juntxs y sin miedo,” “together and without fear.” 

As the ministry begins its work in earnest, feminists across the country are looking on with rapt interest -  eager to see what happens. 

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Thank you for reading! This is the latest article in a series on femicide, but we here at the Whorticulturalist encourage you to get involved in these issues. If you would like to learn more and/or donate to any of the movements mentioned here are their donation and website links:

FENA, the organisation that Ornela works for, originally began as a photography project. It has since expanded and they conduct workshops, develop and produce resources, and do the grassroots organising that helps to liberate women from the toxic notions of masculinity and violence that trap them. You can donate to them here. 

NiUnaMenos is much more than just a movement, and the organisation offers lots of resources and opportunities to learn more about the situation in Argentina. They monitor femicide and lobby the government for a host of other women’s rights issues. 

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

Late Bloomer

She had been called many names. In high school they called her prude. She didn’t want it to follow her to college. In drunken rounds of Never Have I Ever, with a crowd of new freshmen acquaintances that maybe could be friends, she often lied when the questions turned to sex.

Never have I ever had sex in public! The brunette with bangs laughed as she proclaimed her perceived innocence. She too would laugh along with the others, hoping her own face wouldn’t show the truth, hoping the conversation would skirt the next question that would often come up; when was your first time?

She couldn’t come up with a story that quickly. The vodka cranberry she was drinking in the red plastic cup was going to her head. She was scared she would blurt out the truth. Her turn was next. She chose to change the topic.

Never have I ever done heroin. They could take that as they like.

Tease. Her roommate called her one evening after she turned down the advances of the boy whose dorm was two doors over.

She felt too ashamed to tell them at eighteen she had never been kissed. She was a late bloomer as people liked to call it. And the way he leaned in towards her at that party made her breath catch in her throat, because she couldn’t let that be her first time. She was too in her head, too sober. What if she was bad, and he knew?

Sometimes she would make up stories if the conversation turned to first kisses. She always had a backup to tell. Her first kiss was when she was thirteen at a summer camp. Or fourteen with her friend’s brother. Usually she would steal a story from others if the groups didn’t intersect. Her problem was keeping her stories straight.

She hated tampons. She only had one success story when she nearly fainted onto the bathroom tile. Removing it hurt much more than she anticipated. It had to be ripped out of her, as if it didn’t want to leave. She didn’t try again.

She became an expert at excuses when the time came. Pool parties were skipped for homework. Sometimes she had a migraine. Sometimes she would absent-mindedly forget to wear her bathing suit. I’m so stupid, she would tell those who would listen.

She had her first kiss at long last, late into her nineteenth year, drunkenly in the middle of a dance floor with a twenty-four year old serviceman on leave. The night ended with him lying down in a bed begging her to come over, while she retched into the toilet with the door closed. She continued to tell others her first kiss was at a summer camp.

She scheduled a doctor’s appointment for the pill in her twenty-second year. Her friends told her gynecologists gave it out like candy. The first doctor refused a prescription, scaring her with stories of fatal blood clots. She left the appointment and cried in her car.

The next doctor took her excuses of not needing a pelvic exam.

I already got one at the last doctor but she wouldn’t let me go on the pill. But I’m not using it for sex. I’m a virgin. I just want a more regular cycle.

The doctor wrote her a prescription without hesitation. The pill made her anxiety spike but she didn’t have to fake migraines anymore.

She continued to avoid tampons, feeling intense shame as she handed a pack of pads to the cashier at Target. Often times she would buy unnecessary purchases just so they had something else to scan.

---

She met him in the summer on a dating app. She liked that he spent time outdoors and he liked dogs. She wondered if her standards were too low. He suggested they meet up at a rooftop bar in Greenpoint. It was packed with other twenty-somethings, all who could most likely have sex, she thought.

He was a tad overweight and shorter than he seemed in his photos. But his confidence made up for it. He ordered for her, handing over a vodka soda. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she preferred a glass of wine. She drank it anyway, even though the vodka tasted cheap.

He spoke only of himself. I know Matt Lauer, he bragged. Back when it was something to brag about. She counted how many times he asked her questions; only once, when he asked if she wanted to go to his place.

My roommates are gone, we’ll have it to ourselves. And it’s not far from here.

Okay.

She didn’t really want to, but she was twenty-four. She needed experience.

He led the way to the Bedford Avenue L train.

I thought you said you lived not far from the bar.

Yeah, only three subway stops away.

They rode deeper into Brooklyn. She wished it was walkable. She started getting nervous, and wondered if she was about to get assaulted. She pushed down her fears. They entered his apartment. It was covered in half-drunk water glasses and a fine layer of dust over the Ikea furniture.

Nice apartment, she lied.

He led the way to the couch where they began to make out. His body on top of hers in a strangely comforting way although she felt it difficult to breathe. He struggled to unclasp her bra beneath her tank top. She continued to lie there, kissing him back, with her bra unclasped but her top still on. She wondered what the point of it was.

Can we take it to the bedroom? She asked.

Yeah, okay.

He led her down the hallway into a small room. His bed was undone with its brown sheets still scrunched up from where he got up that morning. She felt uncomfortable with her chest chafing against her tank top. She thought longingly of her bra lying on the couch.

He took off his white t-shirt and she followed as he stared at her breasts. She always felt insecure about them. They were too far apart, too pointy. Only one other person saw her breasts in college. Back then she had baby hairs that surrounded her nipples. She always wondered if that’s why he broke up with her the next day. She shaved them from then on.

Come here, he whispered.

She followed, sitting next to him on his dirty bed. He pulled her hips close and pushed her down onto the bed as he followed a line from her navel to her neck with his lips. His grunts made her uncomfortable, but she pretended to like it as his lips met hers. His mouth tasted like vodka. She wondered if hers did too.

She straddled him in her jean skirt. His hand inched towards her lace underwear that she only wore for special occasions. She often preferred the kind that covered her whole ass. But the lace made her feel confident. Like someone who could have sex.

They continued to kiss, her mimicking how the women do it in movies, as he pecked her neck in a way that reminded her of a bird. She tried to open her mouth into an O but the movement felt foreign.

She felt a small thrill as he slid his stumpy fingers close to the lace. He struggled with getting around the fabric; she felt his fingers fumbling against her skin. She pretended to like it.

When his finger went up inside her she yelped so loudly she made herself jump. The sharp pain lingered.

Are you okay?

Can we stop?

She stood up before he could answer, running to the bathroom. She stung where his finger just pinched. On the toilet paper she drew up blood. While taking in slow, deep breaths, she asked herself if she just lost her virginity. She decided she kind of did.

Is everything okay? He asked when she walked back into his sweaty room. He was laying down on the bed, looking bored.

Yes. That hurt me, so I don’t want to continue.

He grunted. That’s okay. But she didn’t feel that he meant it.

He asked if she wanted to sleepover. She agreed, only because she didn’t want to take the subway alone at this time of night. She borrowed one of his many college t-shirts to sleep in. He went to Michigan. His room was hot as he refused to turn on the air conditioning.

It’s too hot, she said as he tried to spoon.

Eventually he rolled over to his side and fell asleep. She stayed wide awake.

The next morning he asked if she would like to go to breakfast.

No thank you.

She left his apartment in her jean skirt and tank top that felt like too much for a Saturday morning. She felt proud she had one sexual experience to boast about. Even though there was nothing to boast.

The boy and her never spoke again.

She didn’t know much about her body. She was a late bloomer. Her period came on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, around the time her doctor began threatening blood tests to figure out what’s wrong. She didn’t know what the clitoris was or what her vagina looked like. She knew she bled monthly, but her cycle was a mystery.

She still couldn’t use a tampon. Sometimes she would buy birthday cards to accompany her pads. She had a drawer full of unused ones. Deep down she believed the inability to use tampons meant she wasn’t a real woman.

Her friends suggested that maybe she had endometriosis.

Yeah, maybe. Except her periods were fine.

Are you sure you have a vagina?

I’m pretty sure, yeah.

Well I read a story about a girl who didn’t have one. She had to get surgery.

She shrugged. This conversation isn’t helping, she thought.

Her pain didn’t seem like chronic pain. It only happened when something tried to penetrate her, and would always be partnered with fast breathing. Sometimes she felt like she was going to faint. She knew the symptoms of fainting. She was used to it.

Sometimes she would skip a period if it coincided with a family beach trip. She turned back to Tinder. She came across a profile of a guy with glasses and messy brown hair that she always found attractive. He too liked the outdoors and dogs. And he had a photo of him and his mother. She swiped right.

It was the fall. Her and Mike met at a bar in Williamsburg. He didn’t order for her, but he paid. He asked her questions. He seemed like he did love his mother, but not in a bad way. Their relationship started off slowly with a soft kiss in Domino Park. She liked how he gently held her face in his hands, and swept her hair behind her ear before going in for it. They ended their night with a quiet goodbye as he hailed her a cab.

The next date they spent at McCarren Park. Then to the Cooper Hewitt on the Upper East Side. then they would meet up for coffee or ice cream. When he invited her to his place she happily accepted. They kissed on his bed. His sheets were gray, not brown. They didn’t need air conditioning.

We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. He said it like he meant it.

They continued to kiss, the kind of kiss that felt like it wouldn’t end. It felt easy with him.

And yet. She felt the familiar panic as things started to get heavier. He pulled away.

Are you okay?

She was surprised he noticed. What do you mean?

You’re clenching up.

Oh. Well. She wondered how much she should say. She decided to go for it.

I’ve never had sex before. Or done really…anything.

Oh.

If you want to leave that’s fine. She said this as she remembered it was his apartment.

No. It’s just a surprise. That surprises me.

Yeah. Me too.

All they did was kiss. She spent the night. The next morning she stayed for breakfast. He made eggs.

She continued to see him. The longer they dated the more they tried sex. She enjoyed the kissing, but when he got too close she would freeze. She had rules. No fingers. No surprises.

She shocked herself with how little she knew about her own body. The boy taught her the terms of her own vagina. She struggled with saying the word vagina, preferring to call it the short “V”.

Friends tried to help.

Maybe try anal? My friend and her boyfriend have anal all the time.

Yeah, maybe. But she didn’t have much desire to.

Eventually, he got tired of the rules. He got tired of not having sex. They both got tired of the arguments. Once out of frustration he changed into his clothes to leave.

If you want to go, just go. She cried from her bed.

He stared at her from the doorway as if deciding his fate.

What are you doing? She asked as he crawled in beside her.

I don’t want to go.

They laid like that, him clothed, her naked, arms tangled, knowing it was over.

---

She felt she failed. She felt she was a failure. Google became her therapist.

Can’t insert tampons? She typed.

It showed a how-to of tampon insertion; Just breathe, wash your hands, insert at a forty five degree angle. But that didn’t help. She couldn’t do any of that without her hands shaking and her heart racing. She couldn’t insert anything without the sharp pain. She searched for other things.

Sex hurts me?

Endometriosis again. Nothing helpful.

She scoured the deep pages of Google. Eventually she found a definition that actually made sense. When your vagina spasmed uncontrollably when foreign objects entered, causing intense, uncontrollable pain, it was called Vaginismus. It was an unexplained anxiety, usually stemming from trauma. But she didn’t have trauma.

Was there treatment?

Yes. Therapy. Both mental and physical. She ordered a set of dilators. She used the dilators every day.

Lying down on her yoga mat, she practiced pelvic yoga exercises and listened to calming, meditative music as she would slowly enter the plastic sticks covered in lubricant inside herself, starting from the smallest, similar to a pen, until she graduated to the next size up. The largest mimicked the size of an average penis.

Are they like dildos? Her friends asked.

I guess so.

Except they hurt. Even the one barely bigger than a pen. But she willed herself. She wanted nothing more than to be normal.

The boy and her stayed in touch. She ran into him several times on the streets of Brooklyn. New York could feel so small.

She started dating again. Or tried. She kept swiping left. There was always something, and she couldn’t satisfy anyone. She felt nothing anymore.

She found a therapist who charged one hundred dollars per session. She stared at the person she was expected to spill all her secrets to. She chose her because she was younger than others. And a woman.

Are you familiar with vaginismus?

Yes. Sex hurts me.

Have you tried getting drunk?

No, I’ll try that.

Maybe this wasn’t a good therapist. And of course she tried that. She used to drink to blackout before having sex. But even when she was so drunk the room would be spinning, the pain remained. They sat in silence for a moment as she tried to think of a way out.

Were you assaulted when you were younger?

No.

Are you sure?

I guess not.

She didn’t have a past sexual trauma. That she knew for sure. But when medical professionals forced their opinions that she did, it confused her. She felt crazy. She remembered her previous gynecologist, the one who wouldn’t prescribe her the pill. She began to lose faith in the medical industry, and began to doubt the current studies on female health.

On her worst days she wondered what made her so broken. And she would feel bad for feeling this way, as other people had actual problems. But she felt her problem was still a problem.

You’re your own worst enemy. Her friends would tell her. But she felt something like ill will towards them. Because they could have sex. They knew how to insert a tampon. They got pap smears with no problem.

You’re right, I am. She would agree.

She turned twenty-five. She believed she would never be normal. She found a midwife who said she could help. The empty stirrups made her want to vomit. The midwife directed her to her office. She shared her computer screen, pages and pages of sex toys.

I want you to buy a vibrator.

A vibrator?

A lot of my patients with vaginismus have had success with one. It may make sex easier and more enjoyable.

Okay.

You and I will work together to get you ready for a pap smear. Your condition is extremely normal, and curable.

She left the office feeling more hopeful than she had before. Later that night she spent forty dollars on Amazon. It was hot pink and shaped like a flower.

---

A few months later she ran into the boy on the corner near the deli they once got sandwiches from. They hugged. He looked good.

I was going to get a coffee. Want to join me?

Yes.

She followed him. He ordered two iced coffees. He paid.

It had been months since she’d last seen him, but it felt like no time had passed. Still, she felt nervous.

What’s wrong? He asked. He could always tell.

I’m better. I wanted to tell you that. I think I can do it now.

Yeah?

Yeah.

You look good.

They stared at each other. She knew sex would always be more difficult for her than others but she was willing to accept it. Willing to face it head-on to get over her trauma-less trauma. She just couldn’t use a tampon.

---

Shelby Crane (she/her) is a freelance writer and comedian based in Charleston, SC and Brooklyn, NY.

My Sex is For-Profit, Just Not Yours

Our whole lives, women are taught to fear sex, sex work, and sexuality. Whether the message is given directly by our parents or indirectly by the society surrounding us, we learn it. Often, we don’t unlearn it. 

Cautionary anecdotes tell us that a woman who enjoys sex as a form of liberation is nasty or somehow lesser. While folktales remind us that a woman who relegates sex and family life to mere duties is virtuous and reverent. These stories are told to indoctrinate us into a world that would rather use female sexuality for profit without compensation. The problem is whether we are getting paid or not; women are constantly partaking in sex work. Not because we voluntarily entered into that field or even consciously chose to be sex workers, but because businesses and individual men alike continue to profit from the female form. It is a part of the unmonitored “market for sex and affection.” 

Our society doesn’t value female work; this goes beyond equal pay and touches on every aspect of women’s rights. The labor that goes into being beautiful, or even just presentable, goes uncompensated but not unutilized. This is the same with the work that goes into housekeeping and motherhood and speaks to why our society isn’t eager to pay for those tasks. They are a woman’s place - it is a duty, not a job. 

In a capitalist society, women are like nature; we hold no value unless we are broken down for profit. This manifests in the unconscious competition that plagues the female psyche. On top of that, the lingering knowledge that men are free to consume and discard women at will pours fuel onto the fire of female insecurity. 

Whether it is using women in advertising, free to enter clubs, or inviting us out to a party - the idea that women are products or currency is everywhere. This keeps us vying for attention and value at the expense of not just ourselves but for all women. In the eyes of the capitalist world that surrounds us, we are no better than a tree in essence. The only difference is that we can partake in the market, in so far as we can change ourselves to be more appealing - ripe for the taking. 

Ashley Mears, a prominent sociologist, and former model, thought of bodily capital when writing her first book and developed it even further in her second book, Very Important People. It is the sum of all the potential value we have to offer to this market. In an interview with Tyler from the Mercatus Center, Mears makes it clear that we can only access that value with the help (manipulation) of a third party - usually a man. She writes about how this plays out in the context of the high-end party scene where promoters recruit young, broke models from the streets of New York to be pretty near rich men. But this concept of needing a third party to manage or reap the (minor) benefits available to pretty women spills over into every other part of life. 

“Women can be gorgeous, but our society reinforces and maintains that beauty is worthless when she controls it. ”

We all need a “promoter,” someone who manages our beauty for us in some way, someone that unlocks its monetary value. If a woman is beautiful, she must pretend to be ugly or not comprehend her beauty. That way, a third party (a man, generally speaking) can explain to her the depth of her attractiveness. Not only does this put the man in control of her capital, but it distances her from understanding the underlying labor and value therein contained. 

When we are merely submissive participants, lame objects in this market, we forget how much value there is in that bodily capital, which we do have. 

That doesn’t mean we can’t reject this structure, but it does reframe how we can view sex and sexual relationships. Even if we can recognize all the micro and macro impacts of this invasion of capitalist logic on interpersonal, sexual, and friendly relationships, can our partners? 

Understanding the subtleties of a market system should make us question what it means to have respectful and healthy sexual relationships. 

Ornela, who works with the feminist organization FENA in Argentina, argues that we can’t be having good sexual relationships. Saying, when I spoke with her: “La relaciones sexo afectivas se han convertido en transacciones, sean capitalizado. Sean vuelto capitalistas” 

“Sexual and emotional relationships have become transactions; they have been taken advantage of. They have become capitalist currency.” 

Both in the sense that sex with powerful men gains women clout and in the sense that being seen with hot women gives men access, leverage, and power. The problem is that this power is not evenly distributed. Women don’t gain enough from these interactions for them to be fair, but oppression is built into the capitalist superstructure.

This extends beyond consensual sex. Part of the alluring nature of the superstructure is that it imbues the undeserving with power. When men hold all the tools to unlock the intrinsic value that is trapped within the female form, they are inclined to feel that they own it. That female sex, sexuality, and to an extent, labor is theirs for the taking. This leaves a gap in the system that turns sexual violence in all its forms into another malignant transaction. Yet another way that men can exert their unearned superiority. 

In a way, capitalism has come to pervert the act of sex on a whole. Making it a perpetual form of structural violence that forces women into a subservient role. The unpaid laborers upon which this market is built. Much like the arbitrary use of a fair trade label, “consensual” sex is a rubber stamp that negates the oppression that is embedded in this market. 

She goes on to say: “No estamos en relaciones sexo afectivas responsables y libres sino que las mujeres somos objetos de un mercado de consumo. Hablamos de un mercado sexo-afectivo donde los hombres son los que compran, los hombres son los que tienen poder, los que tienen la plata, son los que tienen mejores trabajos, [etc].”

“We are not in affectionate/sexual relations, responsible and free; instead, women are objects of a consumer market. We are talking about the market for sex and affection where the men are the ones who buy, the men are the ones that have the power, that have the money, that have better jobs, [etc.].” 

There is an undeniable truth to what she says. Men have access to better salaries, better jobs, more money, all of these things from which women are deliberately excluded. Everything about our various cultural understandings of the role of bodily capital in society predicates on a system in which men are the profiteers in this market. They hold all the power. 

When you apply this logic to relationships, as we have come to do, we can never have equal partnerships. Moreover, women are continually partaking in this unspoken sexual commerce - unwitting participants in this nuanced form of sex work. 

Ultimately, your sex is always for profit because someone is gaining something from your implicit oppression. 

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Hayley is an emerging writer and journalist who works hard to create work that is fiercely feminist, anti racist and anti oppression on a whole. You can check out more of her work and content on her instagram @hayley.headley

1 in 26

"Girls her age, usually do these things when they are seeking attention" the words coming out of the doctor's lips as my mom stood by my hospital bed gripping my hand worried. 

It was another day, another set of …. attacks? I didn’t know what was wrong with me, the doctor couldn’t be bothered to figure out what was wrong, coughing it up to being a cry for attention. My parents were worried out of their minds, as to why on some days they couldn’t wake me up for school. Why would I lose consciousness and wake up feeling like I ran 2 consecutive 10K marathons? Did I die? Was I dying? So many unanswered questions. 

Well, 6 doctors later, a misdiagnosis, multiple google searches, a series of tests, and a few bruises, we finally gave the culprit a name… Epilepsy. 

Epilepsy is a chronic neurological disorder caused by irregular brain activity, the hallmark of which is recurrent, unprovoked seizures. A seizure is characterized as being unprovoked when it is a result of an unknown or irreversible medical condition. The seizures in epilepsy may be related to a brain injury or a family tendency, but often the cause is completely unknown. The word “epilepsy" does not indicate anything about the cause of the person's seizures or their severity. Many people with epilepsy have more than one type of seizure and may have other symptoms of neurological problems as well. 

Although the symptoms of a seizure may affect any part of the body, the electrical events that produce the symptoms occur in the brain. The location of that event, how it spreads, how much of the brain is affected, and how long it lasts all have profound effects. These factors determine the character of a seizure and its impact on the individual. Having seizures and epilepsy can affect one’s safety relationships, work, and other daily activities. However, public perception and treatment of people with epilepsy are often bigger problems than actual seizures.

Persons who suffer from recurrent seizures have long been misunderstood and given false reputations. Many countries still believe that it’s a sign of demon possession and mental instability. The negative connotation associated with the illness causes more harm than the illness itself. Many persons are made to feel that they cannot be a contributing member of society. This is a huge misconception as, like other chronic illnesses, Epilepsy can be treated. 

November is Epilepsy Awareness month and like every other horrible disease, the goal is to raise awareness, find funding for research, and provide resources. However, due to the negativity and ignorance that surrounds it; Epilepsy warriors are fighting to End the Stigma. 

End the stigma that says 

“Because you have epilepsy you cannot go to school”

“Because you have epilepsy you cannot manage responsibility” 

“Because you have epilepsy you cannot work”

I spent years not only dealing with the personal struggle that the illness causes, but also unkind treatment from society.  As an Epilepsy fighter my goal is to educate, to prevent another teenage girl to be bombarded with comments plagued by ignorance; for the families whose dynamic has shifted; for the strangers on the street to be aware of first aid. 1 in 26 people will be diagnosed with epilepsy and there are 65 million persons currently living with the disease. It is not a rare condition.

I get it, the unknown is scary. But join in the fight to end the stigma. We aren’t insane, incapable, or weak….. We are strong, worthy, and valid. #EndtheStigma

---

Ashleigh is a recent graduate of the University of the West Indies with a degree in Political Science. She suffers from Epilepsy and as such she has become an advocate for the cause. She is extremely passionate about workplace equity for all and spends her free time relating to her peers on issues of sexism, racism and ageism. She currently works as a digital marketer and uses her platform to create content that spreads awareness of various issues. You can check out more from her at Instagram @ashlerenaee.