Sex Work and Sex Trafficking Are Not the Same

As you all may have already heard, Prop. K would decriminalize prostitution in San Francisco - but what needs to be talked about more is how decriminalizing prostitution will affect immigrant communities, and communities of color!

The opposition to Proposition K claims that by decriminalizing prostitution, it will allow sexual slavery and human trafficking to flourish unchecked in San Francisco. The reality is that decriminalizing prostitution is the first step towards developing a clearer, less discriminatory, and more effective anti-trafficking strategy than the one we currently have.

In the current state of sex work, there is no distinction in the eyes of the law between 1) sex work between two consenting adults, and 2) the forced abuses of sexual slavery and human trafficking. This is a fundamental problem that misleads people about sex work and prevents the development of an effective strategy of fighting sex trafficking - by criminalizing prostitution, it makes it easier for sex traffickers to hide behind the arrests of sex workers working by choice. And it allows the police to use prostitution as a scapegoat for their racist agendas.

Voluntary sex workers are arrested and prosecuted for prostitution, even though it is a consensual choice, and sometimes the only way to make ends meet. Victims of sexual slavery are threatened into silence and isolation, while their traffickers remain at large. Immigrants who are not sex workers are raided under the guise of a sex trafficking sting operation, and deported for being “illegal”. Voluntary sex workers who cross state lines are arrested for “trafficking” themselves, a felony punishable by 16-20 years in prison.

So far, there have still been no reported convictions of actual sex traffickers in San Francisco – yet statistics show that it is a flourishing $8 billion dollar international industry, with San Francisco as one of its major commercial centers. And there are continuous raids, sting operations, immigrant deportations, and racial profiling-based police harassment of voluntary sex workers and communities of color– all in the name of “saving victims of sex trafficking”. The current system is ineffective and discriminatory – and why are we arresting the people that we are claiming to help?

Immigrants, poor people, radical freaks, and communities of color have gotten caught in this perpetual cycle of systematic oppression and persecution. And again, the rich stay rich, the poor stay poor (and in prisons) - and the privileged few (white people) continue to impose their colonial values on diversity while telling us that we should be goddamn ashamed of ourselves.

Decriminalizing consensual sex work is the first step towards effectively fighting sex trafficking because it would allow for an open dialogue that distinguishes between this important difference between voluntary sex work and coerced human trafficking. It would narrow down the usual suspects to the places where sex trafficking is actually happening - therefore allowing law enforcement to focus in on finding real victims of sexual slavery and stopping their perpetrators.

It goes so much deeper than you or me or this proposition, and we need all the help we can get to get this to pass. It can be a crucial move towards untangling the chokehold of multiple oppressions and violence against sex workers and marginalized immigrant communities. Ultimately, I actually don't believe in the real effectiveness of the voting system, but in this case, I feel it's a necessary first step towards something better - at least for now until a new way of life.

And there will still be a long, long way to go, after this is said and done.

Proposition K: Decriminalize Prostitution On November's Ballot

Proposition K is an initiative that will be on San Francisco's ballot this upcoming November 4th. If it passes, Prop. K would decriminalize prostitution in the city, creating possibilities for safer and better working conditions for sex workers by bringing sex work above ground. It would improve public health for workers and their clients by allowing for open, honest dialogue with healthcare providers, as well as with one another, about what is really going on.

Sex workers would be able to unionize, or otherwise work together, to protect themselves from STIs, violence, and more. They would be able to report incidents of coersion and rape without fear of arrest. It would reallocate funding towards more productive resources such as health care, social services, and vocational training, and take emphasis away from incarceration and persecution.

It would be a historical victory for sex workers everywhere, because it would set a landmark precedence, and send the message that - hey, finally sex work is being acknowledge as a legitimate form of work!

More to come.

For more information, please check out www.yesonpropk.org

Gettin' Fresh and Sexy in Chicago

For the past week, I've been in Chicago attending the Desiree Conference. In its third year, the Desiree Conference is a gathering of sex worker activists and their allies, from all over the world.

"The Desiree Alliance is a diverse, volunteer-based, sex worker-led network of organizations, communities and individuals across the US working in harm reduction, direct services, political advocacy, and health services for sex workers. We provide leadership development and create space for sex workers and supporters to come together to advocate for human, labor, and civil rights for all workers in the sex industry."

The conference was amazing, and the people were even more so. Check it out at:
http://www.desireealliance.org/

Bang Bang, Yer Dead

This morning again, the sound of gunshots were the neighborhood alarm call. The sunlight from my curtainless window pierces the thin membrane coating my hangover, and I throw the blankets over my head to keep the day at bay.

A glass of water and another hour, I tell myself. Or two.

The puppy roots her face through the sea of blankets and plops her lanky ass into the curve of my body. She's such a good spooner.

The gangs here have been busier than usual shooting people lately. This is the third day I've been woken to the sound of gunfire and it gets worse at night. Four nights earlier, two black men were shot two houses down the street from my flat.

Oh dammit. What the hell is going on?

What? What happened? I could practically hear the immediate lines of worry furrow my cousin Laura's forehead over the phone.

There are tons of cops outside my house. Some shit must have gone down. We hang up the phone. Cop cars had blocked off half the street, and the neighborhood residents watch on the sidewalks in front of their stoops. Kids gawk at the big men with guns in uniform, and adults stand grouped together in evening gowns and bathrobes discussing the scene as the event unfolds. Mijo, hey! Don't go over there. Stay on the sidewalk! I manuever my soccer dad mini-van towards my flat and pulled up next to one of the cops.

Excuse me, officer, what's going on?

Two guys were shot. He casually gestures at the street and sidewalk with his thumb.

Fucking great.

Are they okay? What are you doing about it?

Yeah, they'll probably be fine. The ambulance took them to the hospital, but we haven't caught anyone yet.

Well, I live here. Is it okay to go home? The cop nods and directs my vehicle right through the middle of the crime scene. So much for preserving the evidence.

Just in Time for the Homo Holidays..

I thought I'd be dead by now, but it turns out, I'd just been living a half life.

Pupils blown and mind in outer space, the word future melts into the primordial sludge that undulates dimensions bigger than all of us. Or maybe just me. It's hard to tell anymore what's real - and what's "normal" - when all you've really got is yerself.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****
We sprawl out in the living room. Three people dogpile, half-falling, from the ratty couch. Drawing pictures. Fidgeting with gadgets. Music plays in the background, but it's drowned out by the humming in my head. I'm bundled in a sleeping bag on the floor next to my girlfriend S in nothing but my underwear. She lays her head is in my lap, laughing, staring. Laughing. Staring. It slowly occurs to me that we are all doing that. And I think we've been doing that for the past two hours. Someone giggles in the hallway. Oh.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****

This is a good time to give yerself a good, sturdy kick in the pants, the voices tell me. I head for the hills and spend time alone amongst the trees and dogs.

And then days, into weeks, into months, into a year, and I want to believe that, Yes, hallelujah! I am healed! Hah! Mind blown and eyes narrowed cynicism, the word hope melts into the primordial sludge of flight or fight, and in my manic state, I opt for the latter.

I wonder how long it will last this time, and I prepare myself for the end.