Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Stripped



I went to a strip club this weekend. I don't go to strip clubs often but on occasion, typically at another friend's request I end up in a strip club. I rarely have an amazing time in strip clubs but this weekend was especially disturbing. I walked into an all black strip club located in a a area with a several other multiracial strip clubs and a few predominately white clubs. In the club I entered there were at least 30 women working in a one large room, with one stage. One woman danced on stage while the others lounged or tried to work the audience. I had no money and I was with a group of 4 other people, one of those people and I were the only white people in the bar.

I felt guilty for being in that space without money to give the women dancing. I had not planned to end up in a strip club. The women were not turning me on, really I had no desire to tip them beyond a sense of obligation because I was in the bar. Tipping is the point of being in a strip bar. I grew very uncomfortable, here I was with over 2 dozen black women working their bodies because that is how they make money. It would be very rude to go into a restaurant, sit down, and proceed not to order anything. In fact I would be asked to leave. As a white person I knew I took up space that no one else in the bar took up. Lots of people were tipping the women a dollar here or there, way less than any of the women's worth. When I say I took up space that no one else did its for me to explain. White people are privileged in this country. So there is an assumption that I have access to resources such as money. I don't think any one should go to a strip club unless they are ready to tip the dancers. Due to systemic racism, as I white person I most likely have access to certain resources that a black woman may not have access to. Thus making it even more important that as a white person in an all black strip bar I go ready to tip.

There were dozens of black men in the bar who were not tipping. For me, this did not justify my inability to tip. I did not want to do what those men were doing and I have no idea if the same men who were not tipping the woman on stage had at least paid for a "lap dance" in the back. My discomfort was about my relationship to that space. It felt reminiscent of a slave auction block, and yet I did not even have money to justify my voyeurism or participation. I did not want to participate in that kind of exploitation of black women's bodies. I am not against strip bars, sometimes I even have a good time. I think the thing that bothered me most is that I had no money to tip and the people I was with had very limited money to tip. Essentially the money my friends had was not enough to justify a group of 5 people inhabiting that space. Strippers don't strip for fun generally, they strip to earn $$$.

I voiced my discomfort to my friends, including the other white person. I was not heard by my friends and we stayed for a while before we left. I woke up thinking well if nothing else at least I have something to blog about. I definitely felt disappointed my friends are OK with being in that space with little money to compensate the women for their work. I was in a group of both people of color and white people, as well as straight people and queer people. So for each of us the space we take up in this particular situation varies and I cannot speak to whether they should have been in that space or not but I knew that personally I did not have any reason to be there without money. Had I been in a group of people who had big $ and could "make it rain", maybe the dynamic would have changed. For me it was not right to be in this strip club with a group of people who had little to no money to tip the dancers.

Someone I know is making a documentary about black strippers in gay communities who strip for gay people. Once she said part of what her documentary looks at is "how work shapes identity". I think about this statement partly because she was referring to how work as a stripper and entertainer helped shape the identity of the people she followed in her documentary. For me working in abortion has shaped my identity. I did not know I had so much feminism hiding in me until this weekend. I identify as a feminist but I have never had this kind of anger arise as a result of the objectification of women's bodies, at least not that I could really identify in real time.

I can not disconnect my work in an abortion clinic from experiences like this one. I kept on thinking of the stripper I got into a conversation with at work a few weeks ago. I kept hoping none of these women would end up in the clinic and remember my face because I watched and did not tip. My work has informed my identity as a feminist and anti-racist woman.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Our Un-Simple Work


I'm one of those people that rarely get demoralized about abortioneer work and will totally go out of my way and advocate as hard as I can for a patient. If a woman needs a boat load of money for her abortion really fast/needs a ride to her appointment/needs a ride to get her medications/wants to communicate only via text message/wants to talk about her abortion at 9pm on a Saturday night/or needs someone to hold her hand during the abortion procedure, I'm your girl. I'll jump through hoops, break rules, do whatever I have to, to help someone get their abortion. If they want one.

You're probably like that, too. Or maybe even used to be, but are a little less so right now. I had a co-worker once say that she didn't want to stay at work later (she was planning to leave early) because she was pretty sure the person I wanted to get an ultrasound just wouldn't ever show up. She'd been "burned" too many times after "going out" of her way. Her solution: stop going out of her way. Stop advocating so much. Stop trying so much.

I've had a hard time swallowing that; but I know it can be hard when you do a lot for a client and it doesn't materialize - or doesn't feel like it materializes - into much. Maybe you spend your time trying to find a shelter for her, get it all set-up for after her abortion, and she never shows there. Maybe you help her get one of those out-of-state abortions (since your state won't go as far as you wish they did) and she doesn't get her abortion. Doesn't show. Or perhaps you convinced your doctor to reduce the abortion fee enough so she could finally afford it after you've raised money, only for her to drop off the face of the earth. It's hard. And it's hard when the clients follow-through after you've built a relationship with them (you raised their money, you helped with their lodging, you counseled them, you held their hand), then never see or hear about them ever again. You wonder...how they are. If they're okay. If they left their bastard boyfriend. Finished university. Got off drugs. Got counseling for their rape. Found some peace after the anecephaly diagnosis of the very, very wanted pregnancy. Went on to do all the things they had hoped and dreamt of doing.

It's hard sometimes, this unfinished bit of business we're in. We never get the whole story. Find out how things turn out: full circle. I wish we knew sometimes.

Yet, I know, really, our job is fairly simple: help women, who want them, to obtain safe abortions. Yet that's really a lie. Because it's so not that simple. How could it be with pregnancy is not simple? Life is not simple. Abortion is not simple. Our work...our work...is so, so not simple.


Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Things I would Rather Do.....

I would like to revisit Anti-Anti's post from March of 2010. While my list, of things I would rather do than carry and unwanted pregnancy, may not match exactly I think this blog warrants a shout out. Today I forgot to post a blog, then I went to Job 1 which happens to be in abortionland, then I got a call from job 2, a gig I do once a month, there was a bit of an emergency and they needed me NOW. I still had an errand to run for Job 1 and a 13 year old cousin to tutor as previously planned. I would like to pat myself on the back for accomplishing all of the above, and redirect you to a Anti-Anti's blog: "Things I would Rather Do Than Carry an Unwanted Pregnancy"just because that is how I feel today and I would rather work a 13 hour day every day than ever carry an unwanted pregnancy.