I (heart) u guys
She’s young, blonde and distracted in that self-centred, teen way. She’s got a daggy boyfriend and her clothes hang off her tiny hips. She lives on raspberry liquorice and red cordial. She’s got no boundaries and is prone to the odd inappropriate and thoughtless remark. Just your typical teenager really.
If I had to guess I’d put her at sixteen, though she could be younger. She says she is eighteen but it’s hard to believe her because her habit has already stunted her growth and because the standard line when the youngest ones walk in is, ‘I’ve just turned eighteen.’ It’s the underage mantra.
She has a boyfriend and works for the both of them, walking the street. They both have a heroin habit. They share it, and their homelessness. But I don’t see the romance in this addictive relationship, which is wearing them into the ground.
‘I’m off to work,’ she chirps, her tender age unmistakable in the skewed movements of her uncontrolled and angular limbs. He lingers after she has been taken by a car, stoned and playing at spotter, mostly failing to take down the number plates like he’s supposed to. He’s dopey and pretty much monosyllabic. Another typical teen: baseball cap, acres of boxer short above his waistband and a slouchy ‘tude.
She is very sweet of course, naive and faintly abrasive, but unarguably sweet. Yesterday she wrote on the whiteboard:
I (heart) you guys. thank-u for ur (heart) and support without this place I wouldnt get through (heart) Angel xxx
And then added the moniker of teen love:
Angel (heart) S. xxxxxx
I’m surprised she didn’t add a 4 EVA.
On Monday, Angel was raped. Raped by a client who beat her with his belt in the hotel room that he had booked for his lunchtime jerk-off. He pushed her on the bed and raped her from behind without a condom while she cried, all the while berating her for her tears.
The hardest part is that Angel is not the exception to the rule. The youngest ones are the easiest targets for violence at the hands of mugs. C. is another young girl who walked in today and, in a tiny voice, asked if she could drop some fits off in our yellow bins. She had two big hickies on her neck and I reckon she was no older than fifteen. She talked so quietly, eyes darting this way and that, about her habit and her baby and how guilty she felt about not being able to breastfeed. All the while I could not help but notice the scars, track marks and bruises on her skinny arms.
She told me she was on the street for the first time after ten days in hospital. She had been beaten by a mug and dumped unconscious in Richmond. I made enquiries into what sort of support she was getting, trying to conceal my dismay. She was reluctant to discuss it and left with a soft smile, back to business. All I could think about was the horrible future I could see stretched before her. She’s just a baby, but one that has a baby and a heroin habit that she works on the street to support. She should be in school having fun.
A friend and I had a discussion this week about the rhetoric that sex work is empowering. I’m not a sex worker so this is just my gut feeling, not individual experience. But this kind of sex work – street sex work – this doesn’t seem empowering. This seems like slavery. Slavery to a habit sure, but more than that it is slavery to the idea that men can let their sexual desires run rampant, can fuck without a measure of self control, and that this is sanctioned by the fact that the act is transactional. It’s almost always vulnerable women who ultimately pay for the most insidious of men’s fantasies.
Every day our society reinforces the notion that men and women are inherently different. From the time our children are young, we squeeze them into gender-assigned roles that tell them how they can and can’t behave. Muddled up in all that should and shouldn’t is the myth that somehow, biologically, sex is a male desire for which society needs to cater to. It’s so ingrained that it filters down to the street level to become an excuse that sees a middle-aged man rape a young woman. I don’t buy it. I don’t buy that we have to sit back and indulgently support the uncontrolled sexual desires of men.
But we do. The onus is almost always on sex workers to stop their ‘socially destructive behaviour’. Very few countries target the men who solicit them instead. Very few cultures question a man’s right to be oversexed. Many tolerate appalling standards of sexual behaviour. You only have to look at the pack-raping antics of football teams to prove that point.
Society’s steady diet of porn, advertising, movies and music videos stream an insidious message into our consciousness. The message is that men are allowed to need sex and women are vessels for that need. The effect of that message is the dangerous and degrading sex act enacted on a teenager in a St Kilda hotel room at lunch time. And all the while we walk obliviously by.
This is the scary truth!
“…combined with a steady diet of porn, advertising, movies, and music videos that stream the same damn message into our consciousness, see dangerous sex games enacted on a teenager in a hotel room.”
Fuck, Gem. I really don’t know how you can stand it. I am far too soft. I want to “rescue” them all, which I realise isn’t even valid for them, only for me.
You are strong and brave and fabulous and I am SO proud of you.
Thank you for sharing this with me, with all of us. xxxxxx
I honestly have trouble comprehending what makes certain men think and behave in such way.
What really grinds my gears though is when such actions are predominantly attributed to the media we consume at the expense of considering the choices of the individual.
No. Screw you. I get the same media, but would never consider such actions.
whoa……you are not only an amazing photographer but an incredible writer. this is powerful stuff you share with us.
hugs
xx
When I transitioned from male to female, nothing more poignantly represented my new social status than guys whistling out car windows as they drove past on the street. And nothing makes me more ashamed to have once considered myself a ‘man’, except perhaps the small part of me that enjoys that attention. Not to say all men are all like that…yet ‘we’ are subconsciously taught by others of the male gender that such actions are largely innocent, just tomfoolery. Women are thus the ‘other’ – the commonality which tightly unites diverse men as nothing else can; the universal currency under which conquests and stories can be traded with seeming equanimity; and under which the greatest dominance can be obtained for the least seeming expense or effort. Grrrrrr…
Anyway, I [heart] this blog. It is opening my sheltered and naive eyes in such beautifully tragic and tragically beautiful imagery as I never thought to experience, and I am very grateful to you for your ability to share it x
Whoops… that rambled slightly. My point was that, oddly enough, for guys much of that attention actually feels rather innocent, and I think I can see, sadly, that it would not be a far leap for that innocent attention to turn into desperate sexual predatory behaviour. Testosterone has a crushing grip on the male psyche that I know all too well; it can totally warp all moral sense until only gratification matters. This is in no way a justification, and it can be overcome with very little effort… I guess it’s easier for some to feel they can relinquish control.
We are conditioned to believe it is o.k for me to have uncontrollable sexual urges, and that women who don’t submit to that are somehow not normal.
Many men run rampant as they like and treat women as their property and slaves, and still dare to mention they love them.
It’s all about power and posession, and it is so wrong!!
(mr)Roel Loopers
I once met and befriended a woman in her 30’s who looked more into her 40’s. She worked the streets. She had a 15yr habit. She had a 13 year old daughter. I thought I could help. I had no resources to help. They faded away, to where I am not sure. I bumped into the Mother one day in the Valley – she had been beaten black and blue, arm broken, ribs broken. She looked 60. My heart sobbed for her. She was alone and scared. We once again exchanged numbers. I never heard from her again. The moment my heart truly broke was the day I saw her now 15 year old daughter on a corner, thin and frail, covered in sores, eyes hollow…she was working. She was tired. For god’s sake she was 15 years old. Blessings to you for all that you do. If only everyone could spend an afternoon, a moment in time with these women, these children…and open their hearts just a little. We think we know ’survival mode’…ha, most of us have no idea.
You know what? Men aren’t pulled up on their behaviour around other men. Not one guy would pipe up and say “hey mate, not cool. show a bit of respect”. Nope, not one. You would sooner be shot down saying that than saying that you’ve done something horrible and disrespectful to a woman. The culture within the lower ranks of society that i have to deal with can be depressing and sometimes i feel ashamed to laugh to “fit in”.
Think it’s time to stop trying to fit in and start calling people on their behaviour. Not going to win any friends but hey, don’t really want to be friends with those kind of guys anyway.
I’m not sure I can add anything to what has been said. I admire your strength and commitment to this project and send you vibes of love and warmth.xx
Strong word Gemma-Rose. Lorelei, you offer an extraordinary perspective, thankyou. Mx
“The onus is almost always on sex workers stopping their ’socially destructive behaviour’. Very few countries target the men who solicit them instead.”
Yes.
This is society perpetuating violence. Giving permission for violence. Violence against women, and children. I work in Vancouver in the Down town east side community. I witness this cycle you are writing about everyday. This is not sex work ‘coz it’s a choice – a sex positive choice, no, this is sex work coz it’s the only option. Decriminilising, while sometimes (not always) creating safer conditions for sex workers, does not address the more inherent issue… Society is condoning this violent treatment of women… at the hands of men. Urrrrgh… so backwards.
Thanks for posting.
Also…Paul… you’re right on. Men need to be calling each other on this.
Heart breaking.