Ava Adore

Obs: Unify the Dichotomy

Big words, but I did warn you I’d start being thoughtful again soon. In this post, I highlight an exchange on Ginger’s blog: I want to point out that I support both of these people, however, the exchange highlights some problematic feminist thinking.

Someone just said something about not being able to watch your movies after becoming an online “friend/follower.” I have to say, that I agree with him, and here’s my thoughts why:

We feel like we know you better. You’ve become a person to us. A person who has amazing thoughts and problems (I just wanna find your stalker and beat the living shit outta him), and you’ve moved beyond “damn, she’s hot and nekkid!” to somebody we’d like to know and respect as a person.

I understand the niceness of the intent of that comment, but this runs directly counter-productive to writing about being a stripper (etc) at all. ‘Become’ a person? The goal is that we are always people: we want to be recognized that way off and on stage.

It is intensely problematic, this dichotomy: respected woman/sex worker.

Part of my goal is, yes, for you to see a fuller picture of a dancer—so you can understand and break down the stereotypes surrounding strippers and sex work, to the best of my ability. That does not mean I no longer want you to see me as a stripper.

The goal is for you to come at our profession, and yes, ourselves, with a newfound respect. Not that you should stop supporting our livelihoods.

My goal is that, after reading my blog, you would see girls on stage not just as ‘air-headed drug-addict sex-crazed nudists,’ but instead recognize that we are all people. All of us. If Ginger, if I, can ‘become people’ to you, then all dancers can.

In my case, watch me—but also see the performer, riot grrrl, lesbian, painter, lush, and so forth. Then make the jump which allows you to appreciate that those subtleties change from dancer to dancer. That changes how you interact in the scene itself.

If everyone who entered a club understood that at the door, as you have come to understand it, the club—and porn, and hooking, I believe—would become a very different animal. Lead by example. Be a thinking participant in the scene rather than remove yourself from it.

You need to assimilate these ideas into one person. I am not stripper versus ‘person.’ I do not lose respect for stepping on a stage—or in Ginger’s case, on a screen—so I want you to learn to carry that respect into those spaces, which we make our own.

Simply because you know us beyond face-value does not mean it’s ‘shameful’ for you to see us doing what we love to do, like some surprised father figure. That insinuates what we’re fighting against: that our work warrants less respect than our ‘selves.’

It’s not as if we can be compartmentalized. Some people are finally understanding that women can want sex, can desire to do sex work, can be empowered in those areas, and be sane about those choices—and then people tuck it away, uncomfortable in that knowledge. As if there’s a Stepford Self and a Sexualized Self.

We own it. So should you.

I know when stripping and sex work is a personal choice, as it is with Ginger, with Lilah, and with many of us whose voices you hear here, I can safely say that our work is part of our selves. I don’t believe it’s shameful to watch Ginger in her films now that you ‘know her’ any more than it’s shameful for my friends to see me at the club.

What I would find shameful is if you continued to watch those films without getting both the initial pleasure you received which caused you to become a fan as well as the empathy, support, and respect which caused you to become a friend.

What I would find shameful is if you stopped watching at all.