More! Women's! Studies! (Or, In Which I Come Out To My Class That I Am The High-Heeled Impaired.)

I know! You come here wanting wild sex stories chicken news and instead you get my second-hand class assignments!

But here, from my WS course last week:

The final paragraph of Meredith McGhan's Dancing Towards Redemption sums up my own personal conflicts regarding sex work and feminism: "I have become a person who is tremendously relieved to discover that she really does look okay to her oppressors. Thus, I tacitly admit that my oppressors have the right to define who I am, and I tacitly betray my sisters who are crusading for a new standard of beauty. How do I live with this? I want to resolve these contradictions. But perhaps they can never be resolved in our culture. However, by owning my struggle with them, I can begin" (289).

 

McGhan's essay focused on stripping. Is a woman empowered or exploited by stripping? Is she victimized by her male audience or is she claiming and controlling her own body? Is the reward and satisfaction a woman feels as her body is admired and applauded by men the result of her acceptance of the inegalitarian and patriarchal system of society? Is a woman benefiting from the relatively lucrative income stripping provides or is she forced to strip because, as a woman, she is often denied higher-wage work? Are strippers struggling to assert their rights as women and feminists or are they participating in their oppression? Can a woman be both a feminist and a sex worker?

 

I myself find all of these questions both challenging and uncomfortable. Like McGhan, I want to resolve the contradictions. I want to know if sex work and feminism are or are not mutually exclusive. McGhan illustrates that I am not the only person with this issue: "The women's movement has always faltered when feminist sex workers bring their voices to the discourse. There's a hesitation to support the premise that women can choose to do this work, that feminists should advocate for women's rights to use sexual power in a professional way" (285).

 

Some of my favorite online sites are created by women who identify as "sex bloggers." The site "pretty dumb things" <http://prettydumbthings.typepad.com/> is owned by a former stripper, turned college professor, turning bestselling author and I would never question her commitment to women's rights. A personal online friend of mine has turned her MA in English and her superlative writing skills into enough money to support herself and her children as a single mother by graphically reviewing sex toys < http://aagblog.com/>. Another daily read of mine is Greta Christina < http://gretachristina.typepad.com/greta_christinas_weblog/> Greta is a sex blogger, a well-published author, and a tireless advocate for LGBT civil rights. I consider all three of these women to be staunch feminists and yet they have turned sex into a profession. Does this make them less feministic? Are they devaluing themselves and all women by channeling their sexuality into profit?

 

Finally, many years ago, I spent a single but memorable afternoon stripping at Baby Dolls down in Dallas. Did I feel exploited? No. Did I feel empowered? Not particularly. Did I feel ashamed or embarrassed? By my inability to dance in ridiculously high heels, yes. Mostly I remember thinking, 'This is going to make a really funny story!'

 

And to me it is a funny story. And one I intend to embarrass my future grandchildren with, every chance I get. But sometimes, as my feminism becomes increasingly radical, I question the entire thing and I wonder if it's really so funny. I wonder sometimes if I spent a rowdy afternoon, taking off my clothes for money, thinking it was funny, when in actuality my actions were tantamount to betraying the very principles feminists have worked so hard for.

 

I think Meredith McGhan wrestles with these same issues. I think she wonders the same things. And my question is this: Can a woman be both a sex worker and a feminist or does one cancel out the other?