Ava Adore

Why I Do It: Part V: Queer.

PART FIVE: Queer: ‘Holding a Light of Some Kind.’
The last part; Answering, “So, why are you a stripper?”

“It’s funny,” I said, “I sort of felt closer to you right then. And I was thinking about how brave you all are.”
“Brave?” Milli narrowed her eyes.
“Yeah. I don’t think I could be strong enough to fight without my clothes on.”
—Stone Butch Blues, 111.

That passage is part of my heart. Every time I utter the words, “I fight with my clothes off,” the phrase I created for what I do, that is what I am referencing. Words exchanged between lovers, between butch and femme, between working class women, between a factory worker and a dancer. Words of my proverbial ancestry.

This section is, of all of them, the most important to me. I’ll do my best to express the depth of my feeling. In a way, I’ve always felt that stripping paid homage to that past, acknowledged the pain of those women who had it harder, who were in my shoes but so very differently. I honour their memory every time I step in the House.

Every time I put on my thigh highs, I’m thinking of the drag queens and how theirs got ripped off, like shredding layers of skin. Every time I take off my bra, I’m thinking of the girls who had to go street-pro because they weren’t allowed other jobs and had no men to ‘care for them.’ Every time I wear a tie, I’m thinking of butches—and jail cells.

I step on stage and I’m thinking of Stonewall. I’m thinking of riots and the origin of the word ‘Pride,’ for us. I’m thinking of times when heteronormative meant survival, at best, without frills; when heternormative wasn’t a choice, but a necessity. And the beauty my ancestors found there, even when they hurt too much to stand.

I am thinking of how grateful I am to be in possession of my body, when these people constantly had their bodies taken from them, property of laws and phobias not under their control. I dance and I think of how much fear they felt, the echoes we all share, and it calms my fears. I dance in reverence of their memories.

And I think of how thankful I am. And how long we’ve still got to go.