CatsMTL

Strippers on Strike for the Abolition of Bar Fee

Strippers on Strike for the Abolition of Bar Fee

By Adore Goldman et Kit Keli

P132-2-D092-007, (s.d.), Ville de Montréal - section des archives, Patricia Ling, (P132-2-D092-007).

On May 5th, the Sex Work Autonomous Committee (SWAC) organized a militant assembly of sex workers (SWers) on workplace organizing. This well-attended meeting generated a lot of enthusiasm among participants. However, one clear takeaway emerged: it is necessary to clarify our strategy if we want to move forward and bring more colleagues into our unionization project.

That’s why we will attempt here to lay the groundwork for a campaign that could serve to organize the various strip clubs in Montreal around a common strategy: demanding the abolition of the bar fee1 system. We chose to focus on strip clubs because that’s where both of us work. However, we believe that similar demands could be adopted by massage workers to unionize as well.

The bar fee has historically been a tool used to suppress stripper organizing, and therefore it must be abolished. To achieve this, we will present our strategy for attaining this goal, which culminates in a strike, a tactic that has been central to all strip club unionization efforts to date.

The Little History of the Bar Fee

The bar fee is seen by many dancers as a symbol of freedom. You pay to work, and in exchange, you’re the master of your own schedule. But this is becoming less and less true — if it ever was. Many bars now require new dancers to work a weekday before they’re allowed to work weekends. You don’t get to choose your hours and you’re often required to stay until closing time, at 3 a.m. One club in Montreal even demands that dancers book themselves several months in advance. Calling in sick is also difficult in many bars.2 We’re far from the idea of self-employment where you can work whenever you want.

The reality is that we’re clearly trapped in an employer/employee power dynamic, and the bar fee model benefits only the bosses. Indeed, they have every incentive to bring in as many dancers as possible each night to maximize their profits. As for our safety, our employers show very little concern and leave us to handle it on our own.

Some clubs have really high bar fees, meaning that when you start working, you’re already in the negative sometimes of a hundred dollars, with the sometimes required additions of late fees, tipping out, and stage penalties. Over one month, it’s thousands of dollars that goes in your employer’s pocket and not in yours.

Strip clubs haven’t always worked this way in Canada and the United States. Tracing how they’ve changed helps us understand that the bar fee was a response to workers’ struggles, informing our future strategies of abolition.

We spoke with Nicole Nepton, who worked in strip clubs in Quebec and Ontario in the 80s and 90s and was active in advocating for SWers’ rights. Back then, dancers were still salaried: they earned an hourly wage and did table dances for $5, keeping the full amount. Contrary to what one might think, schedules were also flexible, sometimes even more so than they are now. “If it didn’t work for you, you just left!” she recalls.

At the turn of the 2000s, dancers’ organizing forced management to adapt. In 1997, San Francisco’s Lusty Lady became the first strip club in North America to unionize. After this historic win, the dancers launched a unionization campaign across the U.S. and bought the establishment to turn it into a worker-owned cooperative.

It’s no coincidence that the bar fee model emerged around that time, allowing management to sell spots at their clubs under the guise of increased freedom. According to our research, it began creeping in during the early 2000s. A colleague who has been dancing for 20 years explained that at first, it was just a flat fee paid to the bar that replaced tipping on drinks. Eventually, the owners took it over and added mandatory tipping for the doorman and DJ as well. By 2004, a dancer named Cindy was already describing these changes in a written piece, mourning the “good old days”3 of hourly wages. She wrote:

There are too many of us working at the same time in the same club, we have no base salary, we are forced to pay to work, and we have no access to social protections like labor standards, workplace health and safety commissions (CSST), unemployment insurance, etc. Our profession is badly misunderstood and our conditions could definitely be improved. Tell me, when is the unionization of nude dancers going to happen?4

Twenty years later, we think just like her it’s high time we take unionization into our own hands and abolishing the bar fee should be one of our core demands.

Going on the Offensive

We propose that abolishing the bar fee be the cornerstone of a unionization campaign in Montreal strip clubs. This way, we can form autonomous unions within our own clubs, but also have a shared demand that unites us in our struggle against management across different workplaces.

It’s also an offensive strategy. Rather than constantly reacting to management’s abuses, we can act according to our own agenda. We’ll have the strategic advantage of being prepared ahead of time and controlling the timeline.

This is also a first step toward bringing back the hourly wage that our predecessors lost. The goal is to break free from the illusion of self-employment and hold employers accountable not just for wages, but for everything that comes with them: workplace safety, hygiene standards, basic rights like sick leave, etc. A union would also allow us to clarify and secure the schedule flexibility we want. With a strong union and a collective agreement, we can negotiate the terms we want and prevent rules from changing arbitrarily based on the boss’s mood.

If this seems hard to imagine, it’s because worker struggles have been weak in recent decades, and major unions have chosen a strategy of compromise, always dampening workers’ demands for better conditions. But that doesn’t mean we can’t create autonomous unions that do things differently, adopting a posture of radical rupture rather than serving as mediation between the grassroots militants and the employer. Or to say things differently, a union that is grassroots in and of itself.

Don’t Act Alone

In our view, the first step for SWers who want to unionize in their workplace is to start acting collectively. That doesn’t mean there has to be full consensus; waiting for that would block any progress. Talking politics at work will inevitably create tension. But action requires a critical mass, even if it’s still a minority, that can scare management.

The first step is to find allies. At first, just two or three people may be enough. The goal is to form a small committee to launch the campaign. To feel less alone, we propose that SWAC serve as a space to talk strategy and share mobilization tools (flyers, posters, etc.). From there, you’ll be ready to speak to your coworkers about our demands.

Not acting alone is essential, because as soon as you start talking about unionizing in a workplace, you expose yourself to backlash. By organizing together from the start and connecting with workers in other workplaces, we ensure that solidarity actions can be taken in the event of retaliation. This is our best protection against employer pushback. Both strip clubs that unionized in the U.S., the Lusty Lady and the Star Garden, have seen the more militant workers fired for their actions. While stressful for the targeted workers, it was that very injustice that created solidarity and led to the first collective agreements, furthering the goals of the movement.

Dessin par Misss Bisous

Preparing for Job Actions

We recognize that everybody’s union is going to have varying capacities for different levels of action so, in preparation, workers must collectively decide what job actions are best for them. Preparation for actions will always be unique in each case while rarely following a linear timeline such as that suggested below, but they tend to follow a formula such as this: 
    1. Invite workers to a union meeting to discuss grievances and propose possible actions to solve these issues.  
    2. Allow some time to rally more support from allies and workers who are on the fence, create mobilization material, and organize support systems for militant workers. 
    3. Call another meeting to vote on: 
    4. which action to take, and 
    5. yes or no to the action; consider deciding the date for this meeting during the first meeting while everybody is together.
    6. Vote!
    7. Prepare a plan for the job action as you voted for it; consider possible reactions from management in this plan, and how to combat them, while finalizing your demands.
Before reaching the point of an action such as a strike, workers may wish to try different methods of action, including negotiating with their employer. Beware of announcing unionization plans without any plan to act on them to ensure that your boss has less time to replace militant workers with scabs5 in the meantime. However, organizing efforts cannot be kept too under wraps to avoid possible tensions with workers who are on the fence and may accuse you of secrecy and plotting without them.

Collective Negociation

Negotiation with management has its own risks that should be considered. Namely, militant workers must ensure that they never speak to management individually or in small groups. This only leaves these workers vulnerable to targeted firings or abuse from management as an attempt to stomp out union activity. 

However there are other options, which may not harness the same leverage as a strike but can still be considered by your union. 

  1. Petition/Signed Letter- Militant workers can write a petition or letter calling for the abolition of bar fee and have workers sign it in support, dancer names would be sufficient. The letter or petition should ask that a response be posted in the locker room or other common area within X amount of days, and threaten to strike if the demands are not met within this delay. An ally –preferably not recognizable by management– to the effort can then deliver a copy of this letter and signatures for the union to the club’s mailbox or other. This strategy is more effective with significant worker support for the union as the boss will subsequently have a list of all the militant workers’ names, leaving them vulnerable to abuse and maltreatment.
  2. Surprise Meeting- Confronting your boss without warning can be an effective strategy, but it must be carried out with a large number of the present work force on shift to ensure success. Be prepared to argue your case as a collective. Threatening to walk-out on the shift can be essential leverage in this confrontation. The unionized dancers at the Lusty Lady in San Francisco triumphantly used this strategy to demand the rehiring of a wrongfully fired dancer. This strategy also identifies militant workers, leaving them subject to maltreatment from management.

Given the risk of revealing the militant workforce, unionized workers should carefully and collectively consider attempting any sort of negotiation with management especially in the context of more socially marginalized folks who may be subject to greater risks of managerial abuse. 

However, in the case of an escalated response from management to a more “reasonable” or “acceptable” type of union action, such as a signed petition, workers who are on the fence about union activity may be swayed to support the union. This is to say that collective negotiation may be more useful as a point of mobilization for workers. Some workers may be hesitant to dive head-first into an action such as a strike, but after being reminded of the abusive nature of management once again, may come to the union efforts with a fresh wind of energy and support.

Negotiation could work, but it will likely not be effective without first building leverage through more offensive actions. It is always a possibility; however, given the history of most union negotiations, we recognize that this is simply not a realistic outcome, especially in the context of an abusive industry such as the sex industry. Instead, collective negotiation should be considered following an action, such as a strike, that incentivizes the boss to negotiate and provides you with needed leverage in negotiations.

Striking as an Effective Strategy

A strike is when unionized, whether autonomously or formally organized, workers refuse to work as a means to harness leverage for job negotiations with their employer. Very simply, a collective of workers deciding not to show up to work until their demands are met is considered a strike. Although striking is often considered controversial among formal unions, it is ultimately a very effective strategy when workers are well-prepared and autonomous. It was an essential step in the unionization of both The Lusty Lady and Star Garden.

In the case of sex work and autonomous unions, most large unions do not represent or recognize us as workers; this provides the bittersweet advantage of avoiding bureaucratic loopholes in Canada’s and Quebec’s labour law which allow bosses to force their workforce back to the job. This ambiguous position provides strippers the unique opportunity to strike with essentially no recourse from labour laws. 

Taking the product or service away from the employer is the crucial leverage guaranteed by a strike while in negotiations with management. As the dancers from The Lusty Lady in San Francisco put it “[Your boss is] totally powerless if the ‘product’ he’s trying to sell is outside the club carrying signs instead of inside bumping and grinding”.6 If clients really came to the strip club just for a drink, they would be at a regular bar.

While mobilizing – otherwise known as organizing, or more simply, the steps before the strike – beware of being overly vocal about action plans too early. At a certain point, you will have to share your plans with less-militant workers in efforts of further solidarity, but this runs the risk of exposing your strike plans. Therefore, it is good practice to avoid threatening something such as a strike too far in advance. The element of surprise ensures that your boss will not have the time to hire scabs to replace you. Coordinating strike plans with the unions of other clubs in the city is another strategic method of fighting against scabs while fostering city-wide solidarity. Find your allies and don’t talk to the DJs, waitresses or other employees who are not dancers about your plan. Be careful of people who have a tendency to snitch. 

However your strike may play out, there is an undeniable edge in striking as an informal or autonomous union, an edge that should be taken advantage of!

Other Methods of Direct Actions in the Workplace

There are many variations of the traditional strike, some of which may look appealing to your union, or may be useful in conjunction with your strike. These actions require a dedicated show of support from the dancers and your allies for efficacy. Your union may consider picketing, a slow-down, sick-in, and/or whistle blowing in conjunction with your strike. For more details regarding these specific actions please see The Exotic Dancers’ Union’s No Justice, No Piece! A Working Girl’s Guide to Labour Organizing in the Sex Industry7 and/or the Industrial Workers of the World’s (I.W.W.) website8 .

Conclusion

The abolition of bar fees would be instrumental in the effort for strippers’ worker rights in Canada, while bringing Canadian dancers closer to our predecessors who received hourly wages on top of dance fees and tips. The abolition of an ever-increasing bar fee has the potential to enact significant material change for strippers, which is essential in combating the economic precarity that can come with the sex industry. We are calling for the clubs of so-called Montréal, Québec, Canada and the US to establish autonomous unions collectively and call for the abolition of the bar fee. 

With autonomous unions that work outside of Canada’s and Quebec’s union and labour laws, we firmly believe that the most effective means of achieving this demand would be by striking. Strippers have a unique opportunity to effectively shut down their clubs and attain the negotiating leverage typically guaranteed by a strike, without recourse from the constraints of labour laws.

This piece serves as a call to action for strippers in the coming months to organize around the common demand of the abolition of bar fee. In solidarity and power, working girls, unite!

1. Bar fee is a flat rate that dancers pay to work in a club. The custom also requires that you tip the DJ and the doorman.↩

2. Cherry Blue. (2025). Inquiry: Working Conditions in Montreal Strip Clubs, SWAC Attacks!, Fifth issue.↩

3. Cindy. (2004). À quand la syndicalisation des danseuses nues au Québec, Travail du sexe.↩

4. Ibid.↩

5. Workers hired to replace the striking workforce, effectively eradicating the leverage gained by striking. Scabs can also be called strikebreakers.↩

6. Exotic Dancers Union SF. (1998). No Justice, No Piece! A Working Girl’s Guide to Labour Organizing in the Sex Industry, p.33, self-published.↩

7. Ibid.↩

8. Industrial Workers of the World. (2016). A Worker’s Guide to Direct Action.  ↩

CatsMTL

Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers’ Rights – A review

Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers' Rights – A review: A manifesto for angry hookers

by Cherry Blue

Photo: It was a good day, Céleste Dérosiers, photo by Tanata

For many of us, a real cornerstone for the politicization of SWers, Revolting Prostitutes1 by Juno Mac and Molly Smith is one of the few books on sex work of relevance and nuance. I set out here a survey of the first three chapters that highlights certain key points. Instead of denying it, the authors acknowledge the violence in the sex industry and make the case for a total decriminalization of sex work as the first step towards improving the living conditions of SWers.

Symbolism vs. reality

In the first instance, they make a distinction between the professional dimensions of sex work and their stereotypical representation. They argue that most abolitionists – anti-prostitution activists – seek to build an argument based on metaphorical associations with sexuality and its monetization, without considering the importance of working conditions for the practice. Such moralizing positions take many forms, but the myths undergirding the imagined “prostitute” often prove to be dangerous and disconnected from reality. The prostitute is usually represented as dirty and corrupt, which gradually denies her of her inner worth (p. 11). This odious stereotyping can easily be attributed to a political agenda that seeks to be rid of those exchanging sexual services for money or shelter, notably through “rescue industry” discourse, according to which every SWer is a victim to be saved and therefore in the same bracket as orphaned children and abandoned animals (p. 9).

In response to these preconceptions, many SWers portray their work in terms of “sex positivity” and empowerment. Those who emphasize the role of pleasure in their work, though, are in fact articulating a defensive response to stigma, while only the most privileged can afford to choose their clients and find enjoyment in the work (p. 13). This position ends up harming SWer communities by not representing the experience of the less privileged, casting a veil over precariousness and the demands of those who wish to obtain better working conditions. Further to this, these assumptions create the illusion that customers and workers share the same interests (p. 32). But the person selling sex needs the transaction more than the customer, which makes workers more vulnerable. In the end, SWers unhappy with their current conditions end up feeling stuck between the “happy hooker” who enjoy certain privileges, and the abolitionists who seek to deny their rights (p. 36).

The dangers of carceral feminism

Both pro-decriminalization and anti-prostitution feminists often articulate their positions by drawing on legacies of violence. Anti-prostitution feminists assert that the best possibility of justice against male violence is found in carceral feminism. This school of thought supports putting forward a set of punitive laws, because “exited women come to be regarded as the ultimate symbol of female woundedness, with the criminalisation of clients as feminist justice” (p.13). However, this ignores the police violence – material and historical – against women and racialized people. This is particularly true for migrant SWers, who are criminalized and at risk of deportation if they need to report sexual abuse. “For sex workers and other marginalised and criminalised groups, the police are not a symbol of protection but a real manifestation of punishment and control” (p. 16): laws are not just symbolic, they have a demonstrable impact on police power – its violence and use of profiling.

Some might argue that the Nordic model – criminalizing the purchase of sexual services – only targets clients and not SWers. In which case, this model would not harm the latter group. But any approach that aims to reduce money changing hands in the sex industry makes those who offer sexual services take on the consequences of lower demand – and this is true both in terms of their working conditions and their income (p. 54).

Pushing back on lazy assumptions: whoring is working

The arguments that abolitionists make often involve obfuscating the professional aspect of this practice: “Don’t say sex work, it’s far too awful to be work” (p. 42). Labor and awfulness are positioned as antithetical; if sex work is strenuous, it can’t be work. This argument forgets that waged labor is generally a form of exploitation; bosses profit from the work of their employees by paying them less than the income that they generate. Thus, it is unreasonable to consider any and all work, including sex work, is morally good by default (pp. 45-46).

Both bad clients and abolitionists seem to think that there are no limits placed by SWers in the sexual act, as if the latter put themselves at the disposal of all the wishes of the client, who is able to do whatever he wants with their bodies. Although it would be shocking to say the same thing about a massage therapist, we don’t mind perpetuating this false account of sex work. The authors quote an escort named Nikita: “Part of believing me when I say I have been raped is believing me when I say I haven’t been” (p. 45). They explain that in today’s society, penetration is always assumed to be an act of domination. If the act of penetration is always already perceived as degrading, sex work will inevitably be framed negatively and misogynistically. We have much to gain from modifying our shared assumptions about penetration, which is not intrinsically a “denigrating” act for the person who is penetrated.

An economic necessity

It can also be dangerous to fail to recognize the economic and material factors that motivate SWers. The idea that, because they are too weird and broken (p. 48), SWers are incapable of making good decisions for themselves not only robs them of their agency, but prioritizes punitive reforms over a feminist utopia. Smith and Mac cite the example of a court in Sweden that took custody of a SWer’s child away from her abusive father, who eventually killed the child’s mother (p. 47).

Although it is true that SWers are more likely to have experienced sexual trauma/abuse at the hands of their family, those that have chose to pursue sex work do so not because of some “permanent damage” that leads to self-destruction, but because of the economic precariousness that is more widespread among victims of such abuse. Other jobs offered to women, especially those without qualifications, are generally underpaid. Women are more likely than men to be unemployed or underpaid. Faced with these obstacles, sometimes the only viable option is sex work: “Anti-prostitution campaigners should take seriously the fact that sex work is a way people get the resources they need” (p. 52). This scenario plays out with higher frequency for racialized women and LGBTQIA+ people, resulting in their overrepresentation in the industry.

The problem of borders

Mobilizing to defend the rights of SWers must involve consideration of the situation for migrants. In 2021 in the United States, the anti-sex trafficking budget amounted to more than 1.2 billion USD – mainly for “information campaigns” and not to help survivors – while in 2013, the budget for SWers rights was 10 million globally (p. 59). Since SWers are considered to be offenders as well as victims, the U.S. government prevents anyone who has sold sexual services in the last ten years from entering the country, in the same bracket as spies, Nazis and terrorists (p. 81). Crossing into the U.S. is always anxiety-inducing for a SWer: border agents can search their phone for evidence without needing any proof or warrant.

In the world of sex trafficking, it is important to distinguish between kidnapping and voluntary migration. The scenario in which a young white girl is kidnapped and abused in another country is ultimately very rare. Most sex trafficking involves people looking to immigrate and pay smuggling networks to do so, often facing sexual exploitation since being undocumented means having few to no rights. We should not place blame on these migrants and instead change the system that prevents them from migrating legally and accessing the same rights as those with citizenship.

Fuelled by stories perpetuated by the media and popular culture, some argue that there is a system enslaving young white girls today that is even more serious than the slavery of African Americans. However, this falsehood is very dangerous and distracts us from the fact that “the direct modern descendant of chattel slavery in the US is not prostitution but the prison system” (p. 76).  Indeed, there are more African Americans incarcerated in the United States than there were slaves in 1850. Moreover, the appropriation of the term “abolitionist” by so-called anti-prostitution feminists, in reference to the fight to abolish slavery, is an attempt to gain moral legitimacy via the suggestion that the two struggles are equivalent. However, anti-prostitution groups are generally made up of white conservatives, whereas those impacted by criminalization are often African Americans (p. 78).

Ultimately, the root of the problem is that borders “make people vulnerable, and that vulnerability is what abusive people prey upon” (p. 64). In other words, the criminalization of undocumented migrants directly creates the market for sex trafficking. The nation-state finds a scapegoat (in this case the trafficker) to distract people from the actual problem: borders and the prison system. So it is important to keep in mind that the distinction between sex trafficking and sex work should not encourage the belief that the arrests of trafficking victims are any more justifiable; we must be critical of borders and the role they play in migrants’ precarity. This forms the essential disagreement between carceral feminists and pro-rights feminists: “We disagree not only on the solution, but on the problem: for carceral feminists, the problem is commercial sex, which produces trafficking; for us, the problem is borders” (p. 83).

The distinction that is often made between sex work and sex trafficking provides ready evidence that our solidarity is too often granted solely to SWers with citizenship. It is all too easy to avoid the question of sex trafficking: this blindspot allows us to ignore the gray areas that threaten to delegitimize us in the eyes of society at large. However, there needs to be space for migrant SWers within our struggle if we want to improve rights for all: “There is no migrant solidarity without prostitute solidarity and there is no prostitute solidarity without migrant solidarity” (p. 86).

The authors believe that politicizing a SWer takes about two minutes. They live or come into close contact with situations of injustice and oppression, which motivates them to get involved in political organizing. Unfortunately, only a handful of activists can afford to be public with their demands and are granted more of the credit for their actions. We should always be alert to the voices of all SWers, regardless of their backgrounds or modes of communication. Disgruntled whores, precarious whores, migrant whores; you are not alone.

1. Juno Mac et Molly Smith. (2018). Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers’ Right, Verso.↩

CatsMTL

The Virgin and the Whore: Workers In Struggle Against Labor Invisibility

The Virgin and the Whore: Workers In Struggle Against Labor Invisibility

Interview with Leopoldina Fortunati

By Adore Goldman and Melina May

Paint by Zero

Leopoldina Fortunati is a workerist1 activist, feminist-Marxist, and sociologist. In the 70s, she was actively involved in the groups Potere Operaio and later Lotta Feminista in Italy. Active in the International Wages for Housework Campaign, she wrote the book The Arcane of Reproduction: Housework, Prostitution, Labor and Capital2 . In this text, Fortunati works with Marxist concepts to show how the reproduction of labor power is structured within the family, as well as outside of it, through sex work. We wanted to ask Fortunati about her analysis of sex work in The Arcane of Reproduction and its relevance to current struggles. Here is what she had to say.

A&M: In The Arcane of Reproduction, you show how the domestic labor of housewives within the capitalist family creates surplus value by reproducing labor power. Indeed, cleaning, washing, caring for children, cooking – all this unpaid labor provided to the worker and to future workers – is appropriated by Capital. Thus, the capitalist saves on the reproduction of their labor power. Women, therefore, find themselves both subject to the capitalist and dependent on men’s wages to survive. Of course, this model has become more complex with women entering the labor market and the creation of social services, but the majority of social reproductive labor is still performed by women, and work within the family remains essential to the reproduction of the labor force.

 

In your analysis, what is the role of prostitution in the process of reproduction, and how does it relate to the unpaid sex work within the capitalist family? Are there historical links between the struggle of sex workers and the struggle for wages for housework?

Leopoldina: To begin with, I have always said that prostitution has a function on a productive, social, and political level. On a productive level because it is the same process that exists in households. The only thing that changes is the payment, but a payment for which women pay the high cost of social contempt.

The entire history of monetization predates capitalism by several centuries, back to the Roman Empire and even Ancient Greece. Prostitution arises with monetization. A friend of mine in Washington is currently researching this history. In their research, it’s clear that this process, for the first time, allowed women to build a dowry. Because monetization put the marriage market in crisis, it was [initially] adolescent women who were about to marry who prostituted themselves for a period of time in temples to earn money. 

If we return to capitalism, there has always been great pride among the working class regarding the money earned in factories. It was money earned through blood and sweat. It was considered a sin for women to do sex work, to be proud of the money they earned. So, we understand that even if the material productive process of organizing domestic labor and the process of prostitution is exactly the same, there is this small detail that acts as a key to pit women against each other. It is a monetization that has always been used against the lack of monetization of domestic work. Of course, on the political and social levels, the two spheres, while identical, are set up to be played against each other.

For me, it was really clear when we started feminist struggles that the first fight to undertake was to be united because unity among women is fundamental. If we accept being divided, if we accept having these two spheres in opposition, we will never achieve anything. I must say that in the early 70s, the need to restore unity in the women’s struggle, to not accept being pitted against each other, was very clear, and there was a tremendous struggle during those years. For example, prostitutes in France occupied a church to protest the living conditions they were forced to endure 3. In my region, [Padua, Italy], there was a network of prostitutes’ committees fighting for independence, for autonomy in managing their bodies and their money, that is, to destroy the figure of the pimp. So, we always fought together. We were in the same mobilizations, meaning they even came to our mobilizations, those of the committee [for wages for housework], etc.

It has been different for feminist movements in general. Feminist movements have always had a lot of problems, in the same way that they now have problems with trans people – particularly trans women. It’s terrible. There have always been problems in the political vision of feminist movements in general because they thought that their struggle was different, and that naturally led to nothing. Simply to the weakening of each other’s struggles.

In our networks, we were fully aware of the necessity of this unity of struggles and of understanding how to organize a political program that united us. For example, the struggle for abortion rights was something we all had in common, as well as the struggle for the right to contraception, the struggle for the right to decide our sexuality, and the struggle for wages for housework.

The struggle for wages for domestic work was important, even for sex workers, because it is important for women to have money at home. Otherwise, they are always in competition downward, because if there is nothing [for the sexual labor done at home], naturally, even when you decide to do sex work, the prices are low. Whereas, if there is money, you have more possibilities to negotiate.

A&M: Among your observations, you explain “the apparent antithesis between productive labor and reproductive labor.” 4 In this system, Capital presents reproductive work (both sexual and social) as a natural force: the reproduction of male labor power is framed as a personal service rather than employment. You write: “[…] women’s struggles have faced greater difficulty in exposing the mechanisms of exploitation, precisely because of this specific complexity of women’s relationship with capital.”5 Unlike paid labor, where the worker directly receives wages from Capital, the housewife exchanges her reproductive labor with Capital through the intermediary of the worker. This creates the isolation of housewives and, consequently, an additional challenge in organizing with others who perform the same work.

Similarly, in the sex industry, many of us work alone, isolated from our colleagues, and when we do have some semblance of a workplace, the criminalization and surveillance of it make organizing particularly difficult.

Moreover, nowadays, technologies play a predominant role within our households, social services, and our sexualities. As you write:

 

The power of men as a social group has been reassembled through these technologies, which function as tools of reproductive labor, enabling the direct penetration of capital into the immaterial spheres of individual reproduction.

 

For sex workers, technology has become indispensable: a significant portion of the work has moved online, through the use of social media, advertising platforms, or erotic content sales platforms like OnlyFans.

In your research, you explore, among other things, the impacts of technology on sexualities. How do these technologies mediate gender relations, particularly through the use of the Internet and other information technologies? What parallels can you draw between the organizational challenges faced by housewives and those encountered by sex workers? How can these challenges be overcome?

Leopoldina: Working in isolation is increasingly the norm. It’s either the brothel, like in the factory, or the profession, which resembles the condition of housewives, meaning each of us works at home or on the streets. But alone!

It’s clear that digital technologies have a significant impact on women: they push them backward in terms of communication. We’ve regressed after the advent of computers and the Internet. Men are still more knowledgeable than us because computers belong to their tradition.

A second factor is the terrible social isolation caused by all these technologies, especially in the home, where it has worsened. There are many families who sit around a table to eat, and each person is on their mobile phone. They are present and absent at the same time.

Work platforms have modernized the role of pimps. They are the [new] pimps. They are the ones profiting from women’s labor. They have modernized it through technology, but it’s the same role. They take the money, and since there is intense isolation, there’s no longer the physical security that pimps used to guarantee in some way. This marks a shift in the organization of sex work. We’ve gone from the division of labor in sex-factories to isolation. Now, it’s much harder to organize and act collectively because we don’t know where to find one another. On the other hand, we are controlled by these platforms. At the same time, if they were shut down, many would be impacted because they depend on them; these platforms hold significant power over the control and management of sex work.

At the same time, there is a sort of normalization of sex work because it is more accepted through technology and is treated differently, culturally and socially, within civil society. This issue needs to be studied seriously because there are academic articles that address these technologies but fail to understand the political significance of what is happening. How do you get in touch? How much money does the platform keep, and how much does it give you? In other words, it’s about studying the details of the contract.

A: It seems to me that there’s also something interesting regarding who works for these platforms, especially those who are directly employed, likely mostly male programmers. In comparison, we earn our income through the platform, which takes a share of that money, but we have no labor law protections.

Leopoldina: So, there is a lot more social isolation because a significant part of sex work has become immaterial and online. Massages and a few other activities continue. We need to understand the proportion of workers engaged in online versus offline work, as I don’t know, but I get the impression that many young people prefer online work because there’s no physical contact: it’s simply a narrative they create in front of the camera.

M: Yes, even when you do in-person work, you’ll have a whole online job to do to promote your services, then feeding your escort persona by doing social media, etc.

Leopoldina: And then there’s the idea that you, you’re free, you can do it whenever you want, whenever you have free time. Whereas [in-person] sex work has specific hours, it’s in the evening when people aren’t working or during times when people are on their work break.

There is also a lot of unpaid digital sex work. It’s built into the physiology of the internet. And many people don’t know the difference between activity and work; they think it’s a matter of personal expression. Above all, there’s a lot of confusion among young people, who do a lot of unpaid sex work, thereby creating massive competition.

And another important thing is that many states are shifting to the right. The right is about God, family, and social order. For example, there have already been terrible signs regarding abortion in the United States, but also everywhere else. There’s a step backward in this area, and I expect it will also impact sex work. That’s why we need to be even more united, all of us in the same political program, in the same struggle, etc. Because otherwise, we risk being really really weak.

A&M: In our workplaces, it is common to have colleagues who hold salaried positions in social services, such as teaching and healthcare. For many of us, sex work serves as a supplementary job to another that doesn’t pay well enough. The widespread lack of recognition for reproductive labor, whether it is performed at home, in massage parlors, or in hospitals, weakens the most marginalized populations and exposes those who perform it to exhaustion and various forms of violence.

 

In your opinion, how does the fight for wages for housework represent an important and necessary point of convergence today to unite women in struggle?

Leopoldina: This goal is fundamental, even for sex workers, because otherwise, they face competition. That’s why, afterwards,  there’s a general weakness among women everywhere, whether in sex work or in jobs outside the home. We are always in the lowest-paid, most precarious professions, and so on. Naturally, who is the ideal person to accept crumbs instead of real money?

And so the issue is this: if someone organizes something, others must support them. That is, if you organize political initiatives, for example in front of massage parlors, we need to come and support you, and you need to support us, for instance, if we organize a women’s strike. In this way, the struggles of one become the struggles of the other, that they are united with each other politically. And gradually, they must become part of the political program of the network at the international level.

A&M: It’s a way to maintain autonomous struggles while bringing them together.

Leopoldina: It’s very important for each group to undertake their own struggles, but what’s equally important is that these struggles are part of the same program and that others support them.

Glossary:

Workerism: Workerism is an Italian Marxist current, active mainly in the 60s and 70s. This tendency advocates for workers’ autonomy from political parties and trade unions, prioritizing instead the organization of workers’ committees within factories.

Labor power: Labor power is the commodity that a worker sells to the capitalist, the only one they possess. It is their physical capacity to work. Labor power is a unique commodity because it is the only one capable of creating value. 

Surplus value: In the Marxist tradition, surplus value is the value created by a worker that the capitalist appropriates. For example, in an 8-hour workday, a worker may produce a value equivalent to their wage during the first 4 hours, while the remaining 4 hours generate surplus value, which the capitalist pockets. Marxist feminists have argued that domestic labor and sex work, by reproducing the commodity “labor power,” are also sources of surplus value, as they are essential to the functioning of the capitalist system.

Capital, capitalist: Capital refers to an accumulation of money that generates more money. The capitalist is an individual or entity that owns the means of production and employs workers to generate surplus value. 

Reproductive labor: Refers to all activities and services that serve to reproduce human beings as well as “labor power,” such as childcare, domestic work, sex work, and elder care, whether this work is paid or unpaid.

Monetization: The process by which money – in the era of gold and silver – is introduced as a means of paying for a commodity.

1. For all underlined words, please refer to the glossary at the end of the text to better understand the Marxist concepts. ↩

2.  Leopoldina Fortunati. (1995). The Arcane of Reproduction: Housework, Prostitution, Labor and Capital. Autonomedia ↩

3. She makes reference here to the occupation of the Saint-Nizier church by the sex workers of Lyon in 1975. To learn more: Lilian Mathieu. (1999). “Une mobilisation improbable: l’occupation de l’Église Saint-Nizier”, Revue française de sociologie, vol. 40, no.3, p.475-483. in Luttes XXX, Inspirations du mouvement des travailleuses du sexe, 2011, Les Éditions du remue-ménage. ↩

4. Leopoldina Fortunati. (2022). Production et reproduction: l’apparente antithèse du mode de production capitaliste, Revue Ouvrage ↩

5. Ibid.↩

6. Leopoldina Fortunati. (2023). Les femmes et la communication numérique: où en sommes-nous?, Revue Ouvrage ↩

CatsMTL

Explore Bibliotherapy

Explore bibliotherapy: Understanding therapy through books

By Erika
Translated by Adore Goldman

Bibliotherapy, or therapy through books, is a therapeutic approach that uses reading to help individuals in their journey through various psychological, emotional, and/or personal difficulties.1 This method aims to initiate an internal process through directed reading, allowing the readers to find resonance in the stories and better understand their own experiences.2 It seeks to fill a gap by creating an echo between the text and personal lived experiences. According to Marcel Proust, bibliotherapy is a “curative discipline,” capable of stimulating psychic and emotional vitality, thus suggesting its potential to awaken inner resources in readers.3

In this sense, reading becomes a regenerative force and an essential aid in restoring psychic and emotional vitality.4 For some people, reading is primarily an intimate moment, a tête-à-tête with the book and with oneself.5

Reading also helps overcome difficulties, with a long list of benefits. Reading meets a variety of needs, whether they be for repair, qualification, self-affirmation, confirmation, glorification, projection into the future or past, sublimation, exploration, identification, education, disidentification, depersonalization, and more.6

Why bibliotherapy?
The reasons and goals of the approach

The initiative of bibliotherapy, specifically by and for SWers, takes on its full meaning within the context of SWAC’s annual magazine. The books and (auto)biographical references offered aim to foster a sense of community and reduce the loneliness SWers may experience, whether caused by geographical or psychological isolation. Thus, this bibliotherapy not only addresses readers’ individual issues, but also serves as community cohesion.

The books proposed will be presented with a summary to help better understand my personal reflections, in which I will share the emotions and impacts these readings had on me. My goal is not only to convey the content of these works, but also to show you how they made me feel. This approach seeks to not only introduce the books, but also create a more intimate connection, showing how these stories resonate in my own journey. I hope these shared experiences touch you, provide comfort, inspiration, or simply a moment of connection, thereby bringing us closer and strengthening our sense of community and solidarity as SWers.

Who am I?
What experiences shape my reflections?

I am a cisgender, heterosexual, middle-class white woman from the South Shore of Montreal. I am a psychosocial interventionnist engaged in the field of sex work, with three years of experience working at a community organization that is dedicated to improving the living conditions of SWers. My ongoing academic background, a certificate in feminist studies, another in critical sexuality studies, and a bachelor’s degree in sexology, allows me to approach issues facing SWers from an intersectional perspective. I have contributed to various research projects related to the community, with COCQ-SIDA. Additionally, my personal experience of ten years in the sex industry, including two years in an escort agency and eight years as a part-time independent escort, enriches my understanding of the realities of SWers. This combination of academic, professional, and personal experiences provides me with both theoretical and practical insights into sex work issues, while remaining grounded in real-world realities.

Reading to reconnect
Towards a community bibliotherapy

Ninguna mujer nace para puta, María Galindo and Sonia Sanchez, 2007

SUMMARY: The phrase originated in Bolivia and spread to Argentina. “No woman is born to be a whore” is the slogan on a banner carried by María Galindo and Sonia Sánchez during protests and debates. It is also the title of this book, in which these two figures of contemporary Latin American feminism analyze, from the perspective of the whore, the political, ideological, and philosophical processes that push prostitutes out of public life. This deep immersion into the world of prostitution offers the reader new analytical concepts. The authors openly denounce all the profiteers of this system: the “prostituters” (the state and patriarchy) and the parasites (unions, churches, and NGOs). By defining “the street” as a political territory, they propose new ways for SWers to form connections, organize and rebel.

PERSONAL REFLECTION: I found this book particularly enlightening from a cultural perspective, as it offers a glimpse into the reality of SWers in Latin America, a context I was unfamiliar with prior. What struck me most was the way the authors highlight the role of government institutions and the state in maintaining the precarity of sex work. They rightly emphasize that despite minimal government aid, such as food and condom distribution, the state fails to provide real opportunities for education and training, further exacerbating SWers vulnerabilities.

The authors do not only emphasize and denounce profiteers, they also offer ways to transform this reality. By defining the street as a political territory and encouraging organization and rebellion, María Galindo and Sonia Sanchez provide powerful tools for empowering Bolivian SWers. This constructive and militant approach resonates deeply with me because it exhibits our ability to act and advocate for the rights of our community. Ninguna mujer nace para puta is thus a source of inspiration and a call to action for more recognition and better working conditions for all SWers.

Yogi Stripper, Marie-Claude Renaud, 2023

SUMMARY: “It wasn’t just the money that made it enjoyable. All this desire focused on my little self intoxicated, poorly nourished ego… in addition to the sensory, sensual, and sexual pleasures that reached levels never before explored.” The ups and downs of an improbable double life. From her beginnings as a stripper in countryside bars to her success in Montreal’s largest clubs, Marie-Claude Renaud reveals the behind-the-scenes of this sultry world, frankly and without judgment. With spontaneity, she opens up about her difficult relationships with addiction, food, her body image, and recounts her tumultuous explorations of psychedelic drugs. Finally, having found relative peace in yoga, she also discovers a certain hypocrisy to the yogi community, which she does not hesitate to denounce! Honest, captivating, funny, and highly sincere, Yogi Stripper invites us into a life governed by an irresistible need for freedom.

PERSONAL REFLECTION: The author immerses us into the backstage of her double life with great sincerity, revealing the ups and downs of her journey in the world of Montreal’s strip clubs. What particularly struck me was her refreshing honesty when it came to her approach to managing her addictions and her relationship with psychedelic drugs. She openly shares her challenges with drug use, both in her personal life and through her work, offering a rare and valuable insight into this reality.

Marie-Claude Renaud does not shy away from addressing the bodily pressures one can feel in the industry, which can affect our body image and eating habits, describing how these aspects can influence our well-being. Her story, both frank and impactful, is filled with emotions and humor, making difficult subjects more accessible and less taboo. The way she explores her internal contradictions and personal discoveries, especially her experience with yoga and the hypocrisy she encountered, adds an extra dimension to her testimony.

Yogi Stripper is an inspiring read that offers an honest and liberating perspective on the challenges we may face in our work. The book encourages self-reflection and personal growth, while addressing often hidden aspects of our professional reality with lightness and authenticity.

Balance ton corps : manifeste pour le droit des femmes à disposer de leur corps, Bebe Melkor-Kadior, 2020

SUMMARY: This book is the manifesto of Bebe Melkor-Kadior, an Afro-feminist sex worker, who argues for body freedom and unashamed sexuality. After the #MeToo movement and the liberation of speech around female sexuality, new voices of pro-choice feminism are rising. Bebe Melkor-Kadior is one of them. At only 24 years old, her extensive experience as a sex worker and her inclusive vision of feminism led her to develop her life philosophy: the great principles for being a slut, a sharp critique of our “prude society”, a plea for sex education for young people and the emergence of positive masculinity. Throughout the text, the author lays the foundations for her ideal world: a society where sex is no longer taboo but a topic like any other, taught in schools to create enlightened citizens. A tangible testimony that shapes a new feminist thought, challenging and of its time.

PERSONAL REFLECTION: Bebe Melkor-Kadior’s manifesto offers a refreshing and bold perspective on sex work, sexuality, and feminism. Her Afro-feminist approach brings a crucial intersectional dimension often overlooked in mainstream discussions on these topics. The author skillfully weaves together sex education, positive masculinity, and a sexually liberated society, offering an innovative vision that will resonate with many SWers. Her proposal for a society where sex is no longer taboo, instead a topic like any other, is both stimulating and necessary. Her vision of positive masculinity is a fascinating aspect of the book. She explores how challenging mainstream toxically masculine behaviours can improve gender relations and help destigmatize sex work.

What makes this book particularly appealing to SWers is the way Bebe Melkor-Kadior directly addresses the realities of the industry. She provides a candid, non-judgmental look at sex work while advocating for greater recognition of our rights. Although her vision may sometimes seem idealistic, it inspires one to imagine and work towards a world where sex work is recognized, respected, and integrated into our social fabric like any other profession.

Devenir perra, Itziar Ziga, 2009

SUMMARY: Itziar Ziga grew up in a neighborhood in the Spanish Basque Country, surrounded by toxic clouds and neon green wastelands. She loves feather boas, sometimes dresses up as a trucker, and refers to herself as a bitch. This book exudes a contagious freedom and enthusiasm. It is a testimony of joyful activism marked by cross-dressing and street performances, and carries the brutal demands of those who remain on the margins of a society that condemns them.

Prefaced by Virginie Despentes and Paul B. Preciado, Devenir perra is both a collective portrait and an autobiographical essay. Itziar Ziga describes the experience of a subversive femininity, hyperbolic and humorous. Prostitution, veiling, sexuality, trans identity, and social precariousness are themes that run through the text, in a resolutely intersectional and anti-assimilationist approach.

PERSONAL REFLECTION: This is a true literary punch that promises to shake and inspire SWers, alongside anyone who challenges societal norms. This book is a bold, uncompromising celebration of subversive femininity and queer activism. The intersectional framework of the book is another strong point. By weaving together themes like trans identity, social precariousness, and marginalized sexualities, Itziar Ziga creates a rich and complex portrait that reflects the diversity of experiences within SWers’ communities.

For SWers seeking a read that validates their experiences while pushing them to reflect and act, Devenir perra is a must. It is a manifesto for those who remain at the margins, and a call to pride and solidarity.

Bibliographical references

Bebe Melkior-Kadior. (2020). Balance ton corps: manifeste pour le droit des femmes à disposer de leur corps. La Musardine.

Itziar Ziga. ( 2009). Devenir perra. Editorial Melusina.

María Galindo and Sonia Sanchez. (2007). Ninguna mujer nace para puta. Lavaca.

Marie-Claude Renaud. (2023). Yogi stripper. La Mèche.

1. Ouaknin, M.-A. (2016b). «Chapitre II. À l’ombre des mots en fleur», Dans :, M. Ouaknin, Bibliothérapie: Lire, c’est guérir (pp. 47-53). Paris: Le Seuil.↩

2. Ibid↩

3. Ibid↩

4. Ibid↩

5. Ibid↩

6. Ibid↩

CatsMTL

Honey Mon Miel

Honey Mon Miel

by Gina Flash
Translated by Céleste Ivy

Original text in italics

Photo by Cherry Blue
Model: Gina Flash

I don’t write everything
that I think about
and then
I die

and I don’t know how to explain the streaks metal leaves on my tired skin, so I’ll settle for grinding on those men like a fucking demon I write to this lover “yesterday I slid on the clients like a fucking demon I don’t know if I’ll even have the strength to make love to you” I think about that string tying me to the chair or wrapped around my ankles I think about my ankles wrapped around the legs of the chair I think about what my friends will have to share if I too fall off this balcony month of november 2024 I write down the list : a couple of thongs full of stripper’s ass juice (hommage à Vickie Gendreau) – the complete Nana manga collection covered with my tears – my jewelry – two BPD cats like me – some very serious books – the glitter slipped between their pages – my cameras – the porn still on it I find my friends lucky

stomping on that stage like i slide on the back of that very ugly man covered in oil: I introduce myself as a null space in between boredom and collapse and when I do they make it rain the rain spreads over my face and smears the makeup I apply slowly at the beginning of the shift that is my life

a sex worker for all dogs – always someone to pleasure – why can’t I come to the party ?

honey mon miel
don’t worry
if you tip me well
you’ll also be
in my next poem

CatsMTL

Inquiry: Working conditions in Montreal strip clubs

Inquiry: Working conditions in Montreal strip clubs

By Cherry Blue

Translation by Fred Burrill

Bag and coat by fashion freak designs, model: Luna Sebbar, photo by Carol Ribeiro

I’ve been dancing for three years now, mainly in Montreal, and I’ve seen enough to know that the way it often gets talked about is far from the reality of the industry or ignorant of the most important issues. There’s a tendency to overfocus on the client-dancer relationship, but the most obvious power abuses are usually elsewhere. Following SWAC’s workers’ inquiry into massage parlor conditions, I thought it could be useful to do something similar for strip clubs. I therefore had the pleasure of undertaking interviews with several Montreal dancers –  Delilah, Dua, and Cleo – who discussed the realities of the industry and reflected on their experiences. This article is a melting pot of their sometimes diverging but often similar observations. 

Security, Management and the Labor Surplus

Most of the dancers interviewed started working out of economic necessity, as their jobs in restaurants or the creative industry didn’t pay enough and were too demanding. One of the interviewees specified however that she had dreamed of becoming a dancer since she was a child. They all agreed that, in terms of time and energy vs. salary, dancing is the best possible job available to them. Nevertheless, like all sex workers, they are impacted by the absence of regulations in the industry. For example, there are no sick days or protections in case of injury.  Delilah mentioned that it’s exhausting having to always wear high heels and dance on the pole:

There are so many ways to get hurt or to be put in danger. I have to be careful to conserve my energy and not book too many nights. As a rule, clubs let us skip shifts if we’re sick, but some are really strict and make us prove we’re ill. Otherwise, we can be barred. Some managers pressure us to work a lot of shifts per week; others are more lax. In general, the expensive, “classy” clubs are the most strict.

Several of my interviewees also mentioned that dancers are sometimes fired for ridiculous reasons and that managers are often disrespectful toward them. Dua recounted how one of her co-workers was let go because she talked back to a client who said something racist to her. They also all mentioned the relatively poor sanitary conditions in the clubs. But the interviewees especially underlined how managers and security are generally not there to help them if they need assistance. Cleo described her experience: “In certain clubs, even if I’m screaming in the private booth, they don’t hear me or they don’t care. They kick out clients who don’t buy drinks, but when it comes to the dances, we’re basically our own bosses.” With few exceptions, management generally doesn’t intervene when clients don’t respect the limits of the dancers or refuse to pay. There are certain disrespectful regulars who spend a lot at the bar, and that’s all that matters to the club – their own money. 


When I asked them if their experiences varied from club to club, they told me that the clients are basically all the same, good and bad, but the real difference was between managements. Managers abuse their power, dehumanizing and denigrating their employees. Some interviewees had been fired for having broken an arbitrary rule or for some other nebulous reason, without warning. Frequent rule changes seem to be part of the manager’s power trip; they generally make little sense. For example, one club removed the curtains from the private booths during Covid-19, and then never put them back. This affects both the club and the dancer’s revenues, for no clear reason. Another club is now insisting that dancers book their appearances more than two months in advance, where most clubs instead require only a week’s notice. All the interviewees agreed that managements were abusive, although to varying degrees at each place. Cleo commented that she was happy to have started dancing at 25, because she knows how to assert her limits and to not waste her time. She sees managers abusing 18-year-old girls, flirting with them more and putting more pressure on them. She also talked to me about DJs and their habit of interrupting private dances by calling dancers on stage at random moments. “There’s only one club in Montreal where the DJ just does his job, waiting for the girls to be ready to come on stage, but everywhere else we’re always at risk of losing money from the private booths because we get called on stage. It kills the mood for the clients and so the private dance stops there.”

All the dancers interviewed noticed an increase in solidarity between dancers, pointing out that this phenomenon is poorly understood in popular culture. One of the interviewees said that she could see her club unionizing. Another remarked that “the smaller the club, the greater the solidarity, but the bigger clubs can be brutal and competitive. The competition creates rivalries. But in general, I see more mutual aid than competition.” I also asked my interviewees if this general goodwill between workers extended to other parts of the sex work industry, and the answers were mixed. Some of their colleagues are proud to say that they don’t do “more” than dancing, basically saying “I’m not that kind of girl.” Delilah pointed out however that the industry seems to be changing: “the younger girls I work with do more full service than the older ones, as the culture is becoming more open to that sort of thing. Maybe it’s that attitudes are changing, but it’s also probably because of the recession; it’s getting harder and harder to make a living as a dancer.” Many dancers do other forms of sex work but hide it at the strip club. They’re definitely exposed to the judgment of the clients, ranging from those who make moral critiques of them to those who always demand full service in the strip club, where it’s generally forbidden.

Despite the sometimes difficult conditions, all the interviewees agreed that interest in working in the clubs is growing: more and more girls want to dance. Also, clubs book more girls each night. They talked about this hyper-saturation of the labor market possibly being due to the popularization of dancing on social media, especially the multiplication of pole dancers – strippers or otherwise. There’s also maybe less stigma amongst younger people. So the industry is more competitive; fewer and fewer girls get “selected” to dance, reinforcing inequalities in who can access the clubs. Delilah remarked that “there’s lots of fatphobia, ageism, racism, and transphobia in the industry, and especially in the strip clubs. I wish there was at least one trans-friendly club.”

 

Handling Stigma and Looking to the Future

The interviewees were generally not out to their families or their colleagues in their other workplaces. They talk about stripping to people who are open to sex work, but outside of this bubble, people are shocked or fascinated. Cleo explains: “Sometimes, I feel like explaining my work, sometimes not. It’s hard with guys I’m seeing, they say, ‘Oh, you’re a naughty girl.’” Some talked about experiencing a loss of sexual desire, having less interest in being erotic. One dancer specified that it’s also a health question: she gets yeast infections if she does too many lap dances, so that turns her off of sex. Another point mentioned was the psychological difficulty of being in relationships with men when you’re a sex worker: “It’s easy to find yourself in a toxic relationship, because they get jealous or they don’t respect us fully, even if they sometimes say the opposite.” 

 

 

As for their financial situations, some are saving up or are going to school in preparation for life after sex work, while others are taking it day by day. They all have personal projects outside of stripping. One explained: “A lot of girls spend all their money. I try to save, but I’m always getting hurt or I need care, so it’s not easy.” Another told me she preferred to concentrate on collective resistance than to work as much as possible to have a financially stable future.

Towards the political organization of the strip club

Finally, I asked them what they thought about decriminalizing sex work. They were all in favor, seeing it as a way to have access to more stable rights at work. However, one of the interviewees had some broader concerns: 

 

In principle, I believe in decriminalization, but in practice I’m not sure. At the end of the day, it would be a good thing for everyone’s safety, but it could take away some of the things that I like about this work. Sex work is work, but it’s not a job; it happens outside of professional norms. I like the no-strings-attached part, I don’t want a boss and I want to choose when I work, so this clandestine reality works for me. I’m happy to not pay taxes and not finance the government’s huge military budget. I worry too that management will take a bigger part of our income. I think the fact that strip clubs aren’t regulated plays in our favor in terms of what we can earn. That said, maybe the possibility of forming a strong union would help us. I understand too that I have the privilege of having other options, and that decriminalization would probably create safer spaces for more marginalized workers.

Another dancer agreed that we would probably end up making a bit less money, but that we could also get unemployment and sick days, making it worth it in the end. Comparing our reality here in Montreal to strip clubs outside of Quebec, she pointed out that we’re quite lucky: “It’s the only place in the world I know where they don’t take a percentage of our earnings, only a bar fee, around $20-60. On that level, we’re really privileged.” However, she also argued that we need rights and security, and that decriminalization is the only way to get this. The road might be long, and there will be highs and lows, but a better future where we can have both good salaries and better working conditions seems possible if we get organized. Two strip clubs in the United States have already unionized. The strippers at Star Garden in LA, after a year and a half of being on strike, included demands such as a cut of the bar profits, freedom to choose their own schedules, getting rid of bar fees, rules around firings and more protection from the clients. “We fought for it, we worked for it, we bled for it, we cried for it. We made history,1 ” said one of those dancers. It’s not unreasonable to believe that we can do it too.

1.Emma Alabaster et Natalie Chudnovsky. (2024). What happened after the nation’s only unionized strip club reopened in North Hollywood — 6 months later, from https://laist.com/news/arts-and-entertainment/the-nations-only-unionized-strip-club-reopens-in-north-hollywood  ↩

CatsMTL

Militant Inquiry in Massage Parlors: Collectivizing Our Resistance

Militant Inquiry in Massage Parlors: Collectivizing Our Resistance

Interviews by Adore Goldman, Astrea Leonis, Melina May,

and Susie Showers

Analysis Written by Adore Goldman and Melina May

Photos by Imara

As a movement, we have too often kept quiet about our poor working conditions, fearing that prohibitionists would weaponize this information to deprive us of agency and discredit us. Our silence doesn’t mean we haven’t resisted daily: whether at work or at home, we have implemented tactics to fight against abuse, violence, or simple everyday frustrations.

This year, the Sex Work Autonomous Committee (SWAC) conducted a militant inquiry in massage parlors to document working conditions. We conducted 14 interviews with massage workers, primarily in Montreal. The goal was to understand the tactics workers use to resist workplace abuse, and to transform this analysis into collective action strategies.

Our initiative is inspired by the tradition of worker inquiry, combining knowledge production and political organizing. We make no claim to scientific objectivity. Instead, we deliberately side with our colleagues, as our approach is also a form of collective workplace organizing. This is co-research where knowledge is created “bottom up.”

Before proceeding with the analysis of the data collected, it is essential to situate ourselves as investigators. We who designed this project come from different work environments. Although some of us have been massage workers, we currently do not work in that field. We are independent escorts with experience in employer-controlled environments, such as strip clubs or massage parlors. This analysis and the organizational proposals presented are the result of our discussions with massage workers during the investigation and our experience in the sex industry. We hope these ideas can serve as a starting point for broader discussions on organizing sex workers (SWers).

Social Composition

Entry in the sex industry:


Among the reasons cited by the participants for entering the industry, one constant emerges: economic needs. Many mentioned being full-time students or wanting to leave low-wage jobs in service and hospitality for higher earnings in fewer hours. Some were introduced to the industry by a friend already working in it.

For others, precarious situations pushed them to choose sex work. One participant described facing a major employment constraint that prevents full-time work. Because social assistance couldn’t meet their basic needs amidst rising living costs, sex work became a way to alleviate financial distress. Another person cited their precarious immigration status as a reason to take undocumented work, helping cover costs related to regularizing their status in Canada. One participant wanted to get out of an abusive relationship.

For nearly half the participants, massage parlors were their entry point into the sex industry. However, many didn’t stay long. Faced with abusive conditions in massage parlors, many turned to independent work to improve conditions and income. This is a common path in the industry, whether by choice or because a boss fires them after a conflict; the idea of taking control of one's work (schedule, rates, conditions, etc.) appeals to many.

Sex Work and Precarity

The realities faced by the workers interviewed are a far cry from the glamorous image shown in some popular media. Reality is much more complex. While it can improve economic conditions, SWers often combine multiple income sources to maintain a standard of living they consider decent. Their income remains unstable and precarious.

Indeed, many participants found it hard to estimate their earnings due to a high level of monthly variability. Workers often juggle multiple hustles, combining massage parlor work with independent escorting, stripping, camming, or creating sexual content online (e.g., OnlyFans).

Half the participants also had jobs outside the sex industry, in fields like healthcare, culture, research, and agriculture. Some were students receiving loans and bursaries, while one relied on social assistance with severe employment constraints. In this way, sex work becomes a means to supplement insufficient income in order to live with dignity.

That being said, with the instability comes the advantage of flexibility. One massage worker noted that despite difficult working conditions and unstable income, quick cash and flexible hours made it worthwhile. This point is essential to bear in mind as we continue the fight. Indeed, this kind of freedom is increasingly sought after by workers of all kinds today. This reflects an aspiration for more free time and shorter working hours, which helps explain the attraction of massage parlor work, and sex work more broadly. Maintaining this flexibility must be central to our demands, as it is an advantage that workers do not want to lose.

Working Conditions

This part of the analysis offers an opportunity to reflect on how work is organized in massage parlors: how is it divided? What are the power dynamics? We also asked participants about their experiences with working conditions. The main issues raised were related to hygiene and violence.

 

Organisation of WORK:

 

The Boss:

 

Massage parlor owners are men, women, and in one case, a queer person. Women owners are often former massage workers or secretaries. 

Employers are frequently described as abusive, narcissistic, and invalidating. There was no notable difference in that regard according to gender, though women were said to have a more nurturing side, according to those interviewed. Many bosses were described as manipulative people who engage in psychological games to exploit employees. In several instances, bosses made demeaning comments about the massage workers’ looks or weight, or made racist remarks. Another common grievance was that bosses tend to support clients over their workers in situations involving violence. Moreover, in at least two massage parlors, employers had sexual relationships with workers, which led to power imbalances and instances of abuse. Workers noted that bosses often play favorites, deepening divisions and creating an unhealthy work environment.

In some cases, the employer was absent from the workplace most of the time, and it was the secretary who managed the premises and took on the role of the boss.

The Secretary:

Secretaries are generally in charge of greeting clients and handling room payments. They are almost always women. Secretaries can be allies to massage workers when it comes to sharing information about clients. Some, for instance, warn workers if a client has a history of violence. In certain massage parlors, there is also a manager who acts as a bouncer. 

However, in some cases, particularly when the boss is absent, secretaries also enforce discipline. Five massage workers reported being subjected to violence, especially psychological violence, at the hands of secretaries.

The Massage Workers:

Massage workers are the backbone of their workplaces. Without them, there would be no massage parlor. They provide erotic massages (including masturbation), with or without extras1.

In massage parlors that offer extras, workers typically negotiate services directly with the client, who then pays them directly. Generally, it is the workers who determine the price, but some parlors set a minimum or maximum rate. One parlor even established a pricing chart for each extra service. Sometimes, employers pressure workers to lower their prices. In some cases, workers discuss and agree together on rates for each service. However, some respondents reported preferring to avoid talking about their services to prevent tension or competition with colleagues. For example, a few workers mentioned that certain extras, like barebacking,2 were taboo.

In one parlor, the employer attempted to have extras paid by clients directly to the secretary at the time of room payment. This change was not well-received by the workers, who lost their ability to negotiate with clients. This situation led to significant protests and several firings. This arrangement does not appear to be the norm in massage parlors.

Workers in parlors that do not offer extras stated that clients generally expect extras to be provided. They reported having to constantly refuse these requests, prompting some workers to prefer parlors where extras are allowed. If they themselves did not provide extras, they strongly suspected others of doing so. And if some workers did offer extras, they did so despite the risk of being reported by clients to management and subsequently fired. Additionally, in these parlors, having condoms is forbidden, forcing SWers who offer full services to hide them.

Another part of the massage workers’ job is housekeeping. They are generally expected to clean the rooms, showers, and sometimes do the laundry after each session. Often, cleaning other common areas is a responsibility assigned to nobody, so some workers take it upon themselves to do it. We will elaborate further on housekeeping tasks in the next section.

Cleanliness and Hygiene

The results of our inquiry regarding cleanliness and hygiene are split into two extremes: some participants reported being very satisfied, while others reported being disgusted. As previously mentioned, massage workers handle a significant portion of the housekeeping in massage parlors. After an appointment, they are required to disinfect the mattress, change the sheets, empty the trash, put towels in the wash, and complete other basic tasks. A frequently mentioned issue was the lack of cleaning supplies and tools, which makes it difficult to perform these duties.

When it comes to general maintenance, one thing was clear: these tasks are generally neglected. In this category, participants mentioned duties such as cleaning showers, mirrors, floors, and common areas. As noted earlier, responsibilities and roles in massage parlors are ambiguous; this work is rarely assigned to anyone in particular. With the exception of one massage parlor that reportedly has a cleaner come in every two weeks, the cleaning is usually done by massage workers, or sometimes by the secretary, highlighting the gendered nature of these tasks. Moreover, this labor is unpaid: apart from direct compensation from clients, no remuneration is provided for this recurrent maintenance work. Yet, the massage parlor charges clients for use of the rooms.

Some participants reported extreme unsanitary conditions in their workplaces, caused by infestations of rats and bedbugs, mold, water leaks, cracks in the ceiling and floors, etc. In response to these hazardous working conditions, workers’ complaints are rarely addressed: either the employer outright ignores their requests, or does a half-hearted job at best.

Violence and Insecurity at Work

The violence experienced in massage parlors is multifaceted, and sometimes insidious. All respondents reported having experienced violence, which came from clients, receptionists, bosses, and, more rarely, from their colleagues or the police.

Clients in massage parlors are the primary perpetrators of violence. The most frequently reported acts were sexual and physical assaults: forcing acts that were not previously negotiated, removing or attempting to remove condoms, choking, restraining, and hitting. Several respondents also mentioned economic abuse, such as refusal to pay, haggling over rates, and theft. Additionally, psychological and verbal abuse, including derogatory remarks, death threats, and racist, homophobic, and misogynistic comments, were common.

From management, meaning secretaries and bosses, the reported violence was primarily economic, verbal, and psychological. An issue that came up repeatedly is the financial sanctions imposed by management. In one massage parlor, the boss imposed a $20 fine if a condom wrapper was left in the room. Other reported abuses included practices forbidden by labor regulations: requiring longer shifts, forbidding workers from going outside during the entirety of their shift, harassment, closing the parlor without notice, arbitrary dismissal, surveillance of communal spaces via microphones, assaults, etc. Several massage workers decided to leave of their own accord, tired of being belittled for their appearance. Body hair, hairstyles, wearing high heels, lingerie, and makeup — massage workers are expected to conform to standards of femininity imposed by the boss and secretary.

More rarely, the feeling of insecurity came from coworkers’ behavior. Some respondents mentioned that the whorearchy creates power dynamics between “decent” massage workers and those who are looked down upon for their practices. These acts are sometimes judged as dirty or impure, and at other times seen as a way to get all the clients.

Finally, external factors can create insecurity for workers. Notably, some mentioned constant police surveillance, with officers sometimes photographing workers’ license plates. Some massage workers reported police raids on their parlors, where officers posed as clients to receive services.

Collective Strategies

 

Massage workers resist on a daily basis. Faced with an authoritarian boss and the absence of rights, sex workers must find ways to regain control. Individual strategies reported ranged from pretending to have their period to finish early, to committing acts of vandalism. Sometimes, resistance also meant leaving their workplace to work as independent escorts, or finding a safer parlor. These strategies are an expression of a refusal of work that must be acknowledged as such if we want to turn it into collective resistance strategies.

During interviews, massage workers shared their strategies for supporting and organizing with their colleagues. They shared important information about pushy and violent clients and how to work with them while maintaining boundaries. One person’s experience also benefits others when it comes to confronting the boss or the secretary about their abusive behaviors. Several reported grouping together to discuss their conditions, formulate proposals, select a representative to speak to the boss, or speak together as a united front. For example, in one massage parlor, workers united to demand the extermination of bedbugs in their workplace. In another setting, workers protested against the introduction of the policy of clients paying for extras at reception. In that case, workers organized meetings to discuss the situation and decide who would speak to the employer. Very often, this strategy ended in dismissals.

 

Finally, some mentioned organizing outside of massage parlors with colleagues to give each other advice and help secure better job opportunities by sharing information about safer environments, or ways to work independently. A few massage workers also mentioned organizing through SWAC.

So, What Now?
Our Proposals

This analysis of massage workers’ labor provides useful insights for the political organization of sex workers in the workplace. These proposals are meant to be discussed in groups and adapted to different settings before being put into action. Nevertheless, we believe it is important to present them in order to move beyond mere data collection and advance the fight to improve our working conditions.

 

First, working organization could be negotiated with the employer. Regarding extras, workers would benefit from discussing the rates they want to set for each service, and imposing them on the boss. The decision to allow extras in a parlor should also be a collective one, determined by the massage workers. Additionally, housekeeping tasks should either be fully covered by the employer — since the client pays for the room rental — or be compensated. Standardizing the rates for extras would also help increase solidarity.

 

Next, violence remains a major issue to combat in massage parlors. The primary problem is that violent clients are often tolerated because they provide income for the parlor. Worse still, a client’s history of violence is often not disclosed to new workers. We believe that the right to refuse a client should be fundamental, and should include access to the client’s history. The decision to ban a client from the parlor should be left to the workers. Violent incidents could be documented and shared between parlors in the form of a blacklist.

 

However, given the issue of wrongful dismissals in massage parlors, achieving these gains will not be easy. To succeed, unity among massage workers is essential. In the cases we studied, the dismissal of the most militant workers brought mobilizations to an end. Therefore, organizing against dismissals is critical.

 

We believe that the creation of an autonomous union is essential for the organization of SWers. This isn’t for the legal protections it provides, since our work is illegal, but because of the powerful and necessary organization it enables. Through a union, we can carry out collective actions and shift the balance of power in our favor. Pressure tactics such as strikes, picketing, collective resignations, and more could be considered. These actions disrupt the normal course of operations and jeopardize the employer’s revenue, thus forcing them to make concessions. This way, we can negotiate new working conditions and fight back against repression, such as wrongful dismissals.

 

From the beginning, we have said that sex work is work! The workers’ movement has fought in countless ways against employers. SWers are creative and will undoubtedly develop powerful tactics to bring these strategies to life in their workplaces.

1. Extras are sexual services of various types, for example: blowjobs, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, French kissing, and barebacking (penetration without a condom).↩

2. Penetration without condom ↩

3. Whorearchy refers to the hierarchical system in which sex workers are ranked. This ranking depends on proximity to clients (for example, sex workers who provide full services), interactions with the police, and also on class, race, and gender norms. Thus, street-based sex workers find themselves at the bottom of the scale. At SWAC, we aim to fight against these ways of thinking that undermine solidarity among sex workers. ↩

CatsMTL

Taking Back our Humanity: a Question of Strategy!

Taking Back our Humanity: a Question of Strategy!

By Adore Goldman

Translated by Tess McCrea

Faced with the Trudeau government’s broken promises to decriminalize sex work in its second term, the Canadian Alliance for Sex Work Law Reform (the Alliance) launched a constitutional challenge to laws criminalizing sex work in March 2021. The coalition, which brings together 25 sex worker (SWer) organizations and allies across the country, has exhausted other avenues: lobbying political parties and making media appearances has proved not to be enough. The Alliance, along with six other plaintiffs, claims that the Protection of Communities and Exploited Persons Act violates the fundamental human rights of SWers under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. 1

It must be said that at the time of the lawsuit, the ground seemed ripe for legal change. In the winter of 2020, an Ontario Superior Court judge declared certain provisions of the law on prostitution to be unconstitutional.2 Two owners of an escort agency, who had been charged with pimping, succeeded in having these laws recognized as impeding the right to safety of SWers. In the summer of 2023, a SWer won her case against a client who refused to pay her in Nova Scotia Small Claims Court.3 Adjudicator Darrell Pink handed down a landmark decision, which described the plaintiff’s work as “legal”. Internationally, the European Court of Human Rights has just agreed to hear the case of 261 SWers against the French government. The plaintiffs similarly argue that the criminalization of clients and third parties hinders their human rights.4

However, in September 2023, almost a year after arguing before the Ontario Superior Court, the Alliance was disappointed by the outcome: Justice Goldstein ruled that the law was constitutional, and that decriminalization might be a better legal model, but that it was ultimately for Parliament to decide, not the judiciary. In the face of this decision, Jenn Clamen, coordinator for the Alliance, declared that SWers across Canada were “extremely devastated” by the ruling, finding it “not only insulting, but ignorant”.5  Monica Forrester, plaintiff in the case, added that “Indigenous, Black, migrant and trans sex workers bear the brunt of the criminalization of sex work, as we are communities that are already excessively policed and under-protected”. The Alliance plans to appeal the decision.

We would, however, like to express some reservations about the Alliance’s strategy of legal challenge. Relying on the courts to arbitrate our political conflicts is a risky gamble. We believe that there are other avenues that have not yet been explored to achieve the decriminalization of sex work in Canada. We need to exert real power if we want to achieve our goals and concretely improve our working and living conditions. Our proposition goes as follows: by organizing into unions, it’s possible to organize for decriminalization on a much more lasting and powerful basis!

Photo by Chris Lau

Judgement does not come suddenly; the proceedings gradually merge into the judgement. -The Trial, Franz Kafka

Before elaborating on our perspectives on this fight, we first want to substantiate our critique of legal challenges as a strategy. 

Our first criticism concerns the complexity of the judicial system, and our inability to impose our strategies in this arena. For most of us, the courts are intimidating and impenetrable. We don’t speak their language. We don’t have the tools to make our stories and political demands heard. So we need lawyers as interpreters. They are the ones who plead our cause. The words of SWers thus become mere testimony. And for us SWers who don’t work in Alliance-member organizations, or who are not plaintiffs, we are completely deprived of any strategic power in the matter. It’s also disempowering to have to transform the language of political organization into the language of the courts. The opponent’s control of words gives him great power; we find ourselves trapped in this Kafkaesque bureaucratic absurdity.

In this case, even before the trial began, compromises had to be made to fit into the judicial framework. For example, it is not possible to attack both criminal and immigration law at the same time. Yet it is under the latter that SWers who do not have permanent residency are deported. The strategy has been to attack the criminal law first, then turn towards the immigration law. In our view, this two-stage strategy is a strategic error. In New Zealand, the first country to decriminalize sex work, migrant sex workers who are not permanent residents are still unable to work legally, twenty years after decriminalization. It is convenient for the government to claim that it has decriminalized sex work while continuing to use arguments against sex trafficking. In other words, repression is shifted entirely onto migrant sex workers. Yet we know that difficulties immigrating through regular channels lead people to turn to third parties to cross borders and find jobs in Western countries, whether in the sex industry or elsewhere. 

Our second criticism is that resorting to the courts also leaves us without an organized SWer movement capable of exerting power against the government. Because even in the event of a court victory, the bill will still need to be written. In 2014, after the Bedford ruling that declared the sex work law unconstitutional, the Conservative government introduced the current model that criminalizes clients and third parties. It’s not impossible that by the time of the Supreme Court ruling, a Conservative government will be in place again. In any case, a strong and organized movement, not limited to employees of Alliance-member organizations, will be necessary to ensure that there are no shortcomings in the new law; lobbying political parties and making media appearances is not enough. 

It would be foolish to think we can do everything without picking our battles. Resorting to the legal system is a costly business: the lawyers, our interpreters, don’t work for free. Litigation gobbles up an impressive amount of resources in terms of money and human labor. For example, the organization Stella spent $120,105 on legal fees in 2023, and $173,552 in 2022. 6Legal fees are their second-largest budget item after salaries and benefits. These resources are not being put into mobilizing and self-organizing SWers for political change and better working conditions. 

Even with a law decriminalizing sex work in its entirety, many of us would still be facing unjust working conditions, powerless before our employers. It is direct participation in organizing resistance that educates us and makes us stronger. On this point, we agree with Justice Goldstein when he says that it’s not up to the courts to rule; it’s in the political arena that our fight must be waged. To limit ourselves to the legal arena is a mistake.

By centering the whole battle around a change of legal model, the SWer movement has easily been labeled a liberal movement by abolitionists and some of the left. While some are in bad faith, with concerns centered on a moralistic vision of sexuality, part of the opposition to decriminalization stems from doubts about the ability of sex workers to exercise control over their workplace for themselves. By organizing in our workplaces while they are still illegal, we are proving to our opponents the power of our movement and its capacity for self-defense without relying on the state’s power. We believe that the demonstration of this organization could be enough to force the state to decriminalize sex work.

Photo by Chris Lau

“Stick Together ladies! Your unity is all you have… and all you need!”– Exotic Dancers Union at San Francisco’s Lusty Lady Theater7

As Triple-X Worker’s Association of BC pointed out, Goldstein clarifies the law with respect to the right of SWers to unionize. The judge is unequivocal on the subject: “As I have already emphasized, properly interpreted, PCEPA does not prevent sex workers from forming an association or a collective where it is not a commercial enterprise”.8 So it would be possible for SWers to organize ourselves into a union!

One of the main objections to the union strategy is that it requires SWers to put themselves on the line in the workplace in an illegal context. It is impossible to deny this risk. But we must remember the context in which the first trade union movement was born in the 19th century.

At that time, Capital’s grip on the working day was almost total; it was not uncommon for regular shifts to exceed 12 hours. There are known examples of workers dying of fatigue at work. Child labor was common. In this context, the only thing that put a stop to the capitalists’ greed was the mobilization of workers to limit the working day, at a time when the right to unionization did not exist in any industry. SWers share with the workers of the nineteenth century the almost total absence of rights. Our workplaces are completely deregulated. And yet, even in such a context, organization springs up, and we are capable of gathering power. But to do that, we have to meet up, get up, come together… Organize!

Even in legal environments such as strip clubs, we are unable to enforce working conditions that we consider acceptable, which proves that criminalization is not the only obstacle to better working conditions. Organizing is essential to obtaining rights. This year, strippers at the Star Garden in Los Angeles succeeded in making their workplace the first (and only) unionized strip club in the United States since the closure of the Lusty Lady. A few days later, the dancers at the Magic Tavern in Portland also launched a petition to unionize. At an event organized by SWAC, Reagan – a Star Garden stripper who participated in the strike and took part in the unionization campaign – said that it all started in the dressing rooms. It was while talking to their colleagues that the dancers decided they’d had enough of their dangerous working conditions! They went to their boss with a petition. In response, he fired two of the dancers. So they decided to go on strike. After several months of resistance, the fired employees got their jobs back, and the Star Garden has now reopened with unionized employees who have more control over their working conditions.

The unionization strategy also echoes  the mobilizations of the Argentinean and Indian SWers. In Argentina, SWers have a union, the Asociación de mujeres meretrices de la Argentina (AMMAR). AMMAR is part of a national confederation, the Central des Trabajores Argentinos, which brings together traditional trade unions as well as groups of unemployed workers, tenants and Indigenous groups.9 AMMAR has a number of demands, including decriminalization, an end to police harassment and access to the same rights as all workers, such as unemployment benefits and pensions. The union has succeeded on numerous occasions in having several local laws criminalizing SWers lifted.10

In India as well, it is the organization of SWers that has enabled them to establish a balance of power in the face of the state and the police. Prabha Kotiswaran, a lawyer and researcher, reports that in the 2000s, SWers working at the bus stations of Trirupati succeeded in imposing de facto decriminalization through their organization in the face of the forces of law and order.11 Kotiswaran also notes that in Calcutta, the Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Committee (DMSC), a SWer organization with 60,000 members:

while fostering an active political culture of protest against abusive customers, landlords, and brothel keepers. […] despite a highly abusive anti-sex work criminal law, an organization of sex workers has taken root to achieve the results of labor laws that the DMSC is so keen to have applied formally to the sex industry.12

These tactics enabled SWers to self-regulate in this context rather than resorting to the police, who were often  no help to them, and even detrimental. These examples show that beyond legal reforms, self-organization is even more important to improving our working and living conditions.

Organizing into a union would allow us to self-organize in our workplaces and improve our working conditions, but it is also possible that this strategy could lead to decriminalization. Firstly, by organizing, we are proving that it is possible to ensure our safety by our own means, without recourse to the police. Secondly, when labor disputes arise, the State will be forced to take a stand. Confrontations between SWers and their bosses are likely to lead to conflicts that the government will be forced to resolve, probably by decriminalizing our work and applying the Labor Code to our workplaces. Of course, this legal mechanism is not a miracle pill, and respect for our rights at work will always require mobilization. But it would certainly give us some leverage and legitimacy. After all, it is always workers’ resistance that provokes economic and political restructuring.

Photo by Chris Lau

A Battle for our Humanity

Legal challenges such as the ongoing one are based on the following premise: everyone has fundamental rights guaranteed by the state. Where there is a shortfall, the judiciary system is responsible for rectifying the situation. This human rights thesis postulates that there is an intrinsic humanity for all, the denial of which is merely an error to be corrected in an otherwise functional system.

This basic premise is a liberal fiction: in our class-based society, the stranglehold of patriarchal and race-based capitalism denies the humanity of a large part of the population. Furthermore, according to this ideology, only citizens enjoy these fundamental rights; migrants are in no way guaranteed access to them. As Leopoldina Fortunati puts it, “[i]t is only by devaluing them, by reducing [the individual] to a thing of no intrinsic value, that capitalism succeeds in forcing them to define themselves as labor power, to sell their labor capacity in order to obtain an exchange value”.13

If the state guarantees individuals theoretical equality, it is to maintain the illusion that they are free to sell their labor. Thus, according to Lucien Sève, “the social exteriority of the human world in relation to individuals entails, in any class society, its eventual inaccessibility to the majority – humanity has so far progressed through a massive atrophy of individualities”.14 There is a huge gap between the rights that the State “guarantees” us and those that we actually benefit from. Sève invites us to nurture an “ambition for radical emancipation: to form a new world where everyone can [humanize] themselves without impediment”15. Bringing our humanity up to date therefore involves collective resistance against the denial of our humanity. It is by joining forces with our fellow workers that we can truly fight against the denial of our rights.

We cannot count on the State to enforce them. Besides, legal changes are never an eternal guarantee. It’s easy to imagine a post-PCEPA16 future where cities have re-criminalized street-based sex work, where the police continue to harass the most visible sex workers – particularly trans and racialized sex workers – and where migrant sex workers become the focus of the fight against sex trafficking. It is also very plausible to imagine that the injustices in our workplaces will persist and that state institutions will still be conspicuously absent when it comes time to seek justice.

Clearly, the right to our humanity is something we must seize by uniting. We could, for example, organize to block the deportation of our colleagues, to retaliate against police officers who abuse their power, or to have unjust regulations lifted from our workplaces.

We will no longer allow ourselves to be humiliated, whether by our bosses, the courts or the State! To paraphrase James Baldwin, humanity is not something that is given to us, humanity is something that is taken! And it’s high time SWers take it!

1. The plaintiffs contend that the law violates SWers’ rights to safety, liberty, personal and sexual autonomy, life, equality, freedom of expression and freedom of association. In October 2022, the case was heard before the Ontario Superior Court. Find out more about the case: Canadian Alliance for Sex Work Reform. (2022). CASWLR vs. Canada. Our Charter Challenge to Sex Work-Specific Criminal Offences. ↩

2.  Jean-Philippe Nadeau. (2020). Des dispositions de la loi fédérale sur la prostitution sont anticonstitutionnelles.↩

3. Radio-Canada. (2023). Travail du sexe: un jugement rare contre une loi qualifiée d’«hypocrite». ↩

4. Human Right Watch. (2023). Europe: un moment charnière pour les droits des travailleuses du sexe.↩

5. Alliance canadienne pour la réforme des lois sur le travail du sexe. (2023). Communiqué de presse: Les travailleuses du sexe sont profondément déçues de la décision de la Cour supérieure de l’Ontario rejetant les préjudices systémiques subis.↩

6. Stella, L’amie de Maimie. (2023). «États des résultats pour l’exercice terminé le 31 mars 2023», États financiers pour l’exercice terminé le 31 mars 2023, p. 1.↩

7. The Lusty Lady was a peep-show in San Francisco where the workers led a campaign to unionize, which they won in 1997. At the time, it was the first unionized club in the United States. To find out more about this campaign, see the film Live Nude Girls Unite! (2000) by Julia Querry, a former dancer at the Lusty Lady, which does a great job of explaining the ins and outs of this movement.↩

8. Triple-X Worker’s Solidarity Association of B.C. (2023). In Canada the Government Does Have Business in the Bedrooms of the Nation Ontario ruling in constitutional challenge of Canada’s sex work laws disappoints but offers clarity on the sale of sex and freedom of association.↩

9. Kate Hardy. (2010). «Incorporating Sex Workers into the Argentine LaborMovement», International Labor and Working-Class History, 77(01):89 – 108.↩

10. Amalia L. Cabezas. (2012). «Latin American and Caribbean Sex Workers: Gains and challenges in the movement», Anti-trafficking Review↩

11. Prabha Kotiswaran. (2011). Dangerous Sex, Invisible Labor: Sex Work and the Law in India, Princeton University Press, p. 130.↩

12. Ibid., p. 248.↩

13. Leopoldina Fortunati. (2022). Production et reproduction: l’apparente antithèse du mode de production capitaliste.↩

14. Laurent Prost. (2009). «Entretien avec Lucien Sève», Le Philosophoire, no 32.↩

15. Ibid.↩

16. Protection of Communities and Exploited Persons Act. The law that criminalizes sex work in Canada, and is being challenged in the current constitutional challenge.↩

CatsMTL

We don’t want to face violence alone anymore

We don't want to face violence alone anymore

Speech read on December 17th at Stella's open mic

Par Adore Goldman & Francesca

We are Adore and Francesca and we are activists at the Sex Work Autonomous Committee. SWAC is a group that demands better working conditions in the sex industry and the decriminalization of sex work. We do that by encouraging grassroots organization within our workplaces.

As sex workers, we are sometimes tempted to hide the violence we are experiencing because we don’t want it to be used against us. We don’t want to confirm the stereotype that sex work is inherently violent. Unfortunately, by doing so, we are annihilating any chance to fight it collectively. In the last year, with SWAC, we did a militant inquiry in massage parlors and the interviewees shared with us many stories of violence in the workplace. Moreover, many explained that violent customers were often tolerated because they were a source of income for the parlors. This isn’t something specific to the sex industry. Bosses have never guaranteed a safe workplace environment before they were forced to do so. But because our workplaces are criminalized, we are told we don’t deserve these rights, that it’s impossible we get them. Well, rights were never given to us on a silver platter, it was always our collective organization that gave us the power to conquer them.

In these inquiries, we also heard stories of solidarity among workers. Despite having a highly competitive environment, when facing injustices and violence, sex workers do come together. This is what we are doing today and this is what we have to do more of. I’m not talking about being face out; I’m talking about organizing and speaking as a collective. By using collective actions, we can shift the power balance from the abusers to the workers. If money is what our employer is looking after, it’s his pocket we have to aim for.

We don’t want to be alone anymore when facing violence. We want to stand united against it and to fight it as workers. Cause when you’re a worker, you have a toolbox against violence: there are labor laws that say your employer has to guarantee your safety. If he doesn’t respect that, you can go on strike or you can collectively resign. We’re saying it’s time to stop the violence and make this toolbox ours.

The story you’re about to hear is a personal one. It exemplifies one of the many ways in which we may react when confronted with violence. It also exhibits the necessity of the collective. When we support each other, we may begin to organize. Some remarks of the characters may be shocking. We ask you to remember that it’s a literary work and a personal experience. While the characters use generalizing terms, its intention is not to paint the industry in broad strokes, but rather, discuss the unfortunate truth that violence does occur, and that community is one way to combat it.

Short-story by Francesca

When the club closes, we follow three balding men into the back of an Uber XL. I don’t need to tell her that I feel unsafe because she feels it too. We commit portions of our lives to feeling unsafe–being pushed beyond our comfort zones for the cost of a gram or a hydro bill. In the back seat, the balding men are coked-out. They ask us if we know any of the techno artists playing tonight’s event and I joke that I only come for the drugs. Recognizing the severity of my tone, I pitch my voice up an octave, hoping they may pay us more later. 

Now, I am digestible; a consumable version of myself that so many women before me fought to dismantle the need for. Part of me feels guilty, but more than that I’m tired because I have been working since 7 o’clock, telling stories from my childhood to men who believe they know what love is, who have recognized it in my small act.

We reach the event late. In the coat-check lineup, I am a performance, stripping off my everyday clothes to reveal the bikini I had been sweating in an hour before. The balding men love this. They chew and swallow and then we go inside. We find space on the dance floor, taking turns keeping them interested. While she dances with them, I let my jaw go slack and my eyes close, allowing my movements to drive me – present rather than presenting. At work, this body moves to its intent, defined by its profitability. Here, this body moves through space and time and even memories. And then we switch, and I am performing for the balding men, but this time, for free. 

I cannot be consumable for long, or I risk chewing away the parts of myself that don’t sell. The balding men dance and we monitor them, waiting for an opportunity to slip away. When they are full of drugs and us, we become whole again, cocooning ourselves in a bathroom stall, our bare asses touching the frigid tile. I hold her hand and she tells me about the first time she was raped. 

“I think it makes us better at our work,” she says. I ask what she means and she responds,

“Having been abused.”

I think that maybe she’s right. Everyday, we confront the limits of our comfort until, at some point, we don’t recognize them, or ourselves, anymore. At some point, getting into the Uber XL feels like going to sleep and getting raped feels like waking up. Our boundaries are informed by our bodies ability to take and pretend. More than this, we’ve seen the worst and we know to expect it. We are not surprised when the men in your life touch us with cold hands, fiending for a person who is neither of us, who doesn’t exist. We are only sorry for you – the you that shines blue on his phone when he sets it on the table–the you we know he wishes were just a little more consumable. In some ways, we are more sorry for ourselves because we’ll never be able to go back to a time where we don’t know again. Unless we are dancing, slack-jawed, with our eyes closed. 

CatsMTL

A Voice for Invisible Workers​

A Voice for Invisible Workers

Interview with Crystal Laderas from SWAN Vancouver

Latsami & Adore Goldman

SWAN (Supporting Women’s Alternatives Network) Vancouver is an organization that promotes the rights, health, and safety of im/migrant women engaged in indoor sex work through frontline services and systemic advocacy in Greater Vancouver since 2002. Latsami and Adore from SWAC interviewed Crystal Laderas, the communication manager at SWAN, to know more about the challenges im/migrant sex workers face in their daily life as well as their demands as an organization.

SWAC: Your organization denounces how immigration laws target sex workers and how it puts them at risk. Can you explain how these laws harm sex workers?

Crystal: We recently had a woman telling us that because of the immigration ban on sex work, she barely goes out. So outside of work, she doesn’t want to tell people what she does. She even lies to them because she’s not comfortable with that. So she just stays away from all social situations and isolates herself at all times in order not to be detected, and that’s sort of how the immigration and refugee protection regulations are impacting migrant’s lives.

It bans all temporary residents like international students or somebody on a tourist visa from working at a strip club, massage business, or escort service. If you’re caught, you’re deported. This leaves people constantly on edge. If you get into a situation where you’re attacked and you want to call the police, they would run your ID and it would automatically get reported to the CBSA.

You want to go to the pharmacy to get some medication, but then they ask too many questions and they could report you to the CBSA too, and you’d be deported for trying to get some basic health care. 

There are extreme cases too where you’re working at a massage business, and it gets raided by police during a trafficking investigation. There are often two outcomes for the women: say that you’re a trafficked victim, or CBSA is called to deport them as criminals. So these workers lose basic rights like access to justice and even human interaction because of some of these laws.

SWAC: What are some of the specificities related to the Asian community of sex workers you’re working with? What are their needs?

Crystal: I think a lot of their needs are just kind of based on accessing services, but a lot of the mainstream services are just not available to them. So for example, our outreach team answers a lot of calls from women who are trying to find low-barrier access to family doctors and pharmacies. We offer services in English, Cantonese, and Mandarin. So the women often ask SWAN to come with them for a health appointment so we can do translation. This is normal in the Asian and newcomer communities to have a loved one coming with you. But because the topic of working comes up in the middle of that health appointment, they prefer to have SWAN staff there with them doing the translation, so they don’t get outed to their family. Also, the staff helps with making sure the healthcare workers aren’t asking questions that they shouldn’t be to make sure that work doesn’t come up and that their immigration status doesn’t come up. We know that some health care providers also receive anti-trafficking training and again, that could result in a call to the CBSA. 

We also get a lot of calls and questions about labor-related issues, and that’s where we hit some roadblocks. So if a woman’s manager is late on paying them, they’ve been scheduled for hours that they didn’t initially agree to, or they just have some dispute with a co-worker, they call us. We can try to work on solutions with them, but because the workplace is criminalized, there’s really nothing more that we can do because they can’t be protected under provincial labor regulations. At that point, if we can’t find solutions within the system, we just listen. We’re there for emotional support because sometimes, they just want somebody to talk to about this and it’s not something they can always talk to their friends about.

We’ve been accused of being traffickers just for doing normal, simple translation services that a lot of Asian and newcomer communities do for their loved ones. It’s just different in this case because they can’t have their loved ones there. So, we do have to push back on healthcare workers if they’re asking a little bit too much about the woman’s work or even status and things like that too. Like, is this absolutely necessary for this person’s health? That could keep them from being deported.

SWAC: Your organization is very critical of the sex trafficking narrative. Can you explain why viewing migrant sex workers as victims is problematic?

Crystal: It’s really frustrating because it ties into a lot of anti-trafficking narratives and how they target Asian sex workers. A lot of those campaigns or enforcement branches of the law are really driven by racist stereotypes. There’s a lot of sensationalism that’s making money off of fears and racist ideas about who’s the victim and who’s the bad guy. There’s a savior complex and religious influence and moral stuff. It’s just like a mixed bag of bullshit! 

They decide who a victim is based on race, immigration status, or country of origin and not actual victimization. It’s as if they’ll push somebody who has been assaulted on the street out of the way so that they can kick down the door of a massage business and rescue Asians who don’t need your help, didn’t ask for your help and are just on shift right now wondering what the hell you’re doing here. 

We really have to constantly point out that it’s not just white middle-class people who have the ability to consent to sex work, but the opposing narrative is that these women lack agency, they are powerless or are easily tricked. I think overall, the narrative is sort of a disguise created to hide what these groups are really doing, which is trying to stop a couple of adults from having sex in exchange of money, which is no one’s business.

SWAC: With all the evidence we have today and all the sex workers sharing their stories and raising their voices, why do you think the government and also society at large don’t want to change and don’t seem to want to talk about it or to hear us?

Crystal: I think at the core, it comes down to these really long-held moralistic views in our society that are outdated and sexist. The people influencing the laws have a moral agenda, and laws have been shaped by societal views, and in turn, those laws influence society, and then there’s this horrible cycle that lasts for centuries. We saw this with the recent constitutional challenge. The Ontario Superior Court justice, in his decision, wrote that “sex work is inherently exploitative” (which we know is not true). He cited Canada’s sex work laws and really echoed the arguments that were written into the preamble of the law. The preamble talks about “human dignity and social harm caused by the objectification of the human body”. We know that former conservative Minister of Justice, Peter MacKay wrote that law and that preamble. It’s as if he was there during the first exchange of money for sex,  writing with a quill pen, saying “hmm… ”. 

It’s so archaic and outdated, yet this is what shapes the law, and that law influences the public perception. I guess other than that it’s just maybe easier for the public to believe everybody is exploited than it is to accept that sex workers have a choice in doing this job.

SWAC: It’s interesting that it just keeps reinforcing the cycle because of the law; so a  judge can easily say “Oh yeah, according to the law, it says that so it’s that” you know.

Crystal: Yeah “It must be fact!”. The law was written by somebody who had their own moral agenda, and they made it very obvious in the writing of the preamble. If you heard somebody speaking like that in public or an institution, or at a restaurant, you’d be like,  “What? Where is this coming from? Why is this person telling these people what to do with their own work and their own business?” 

SWAC: Migrant sex workers occupy a special place at the intersection of the migrant workers’ movement and the SWers’ movement. Is it a challenge to navigate this intersection? Have you been able to create solidarity between both movements?

Crystal: To be honest it has been really difficult because it just kind of feels like we don’t really fit anywhere. But the truth is, just like how there’s racism in the broader society, there’s also racism within the movements. So we have run into people who say “Oh, we don’t do outreach at the massage businesses because all those women are trafficked”. That’s the same racist narratives that we just talked about being repeated.

There’s also a dominant “out and proud” approach to sex work advocacy and I’m really grateful for all the activists and organizations who do this, but it does not work for the women we support. Having face-driven advocacy is not possible. I’m talking to you because I’m not a sex worker, I’m a Canadian citizen and my first language is English. Those are privileges that allow me to speak. We’re always trying to find low-barrier ways for the women to participate in our advocacy, and I can tell you that they have a lot to say, but they don’t want to be the face of a movement, they don’t want to be on camera, they don’t even want their voice recorded. 

So we have been putting effort into migrant communities and alliances with them, we’ve been speaking at rallies, etc. But sex work can be new and uncomfortable for that crowd as well, and it’s important to remember that many of them can come from countries where sex work is highly criminalized; there are very harsh penalties for doing it and so that has created a lot of cultural stigmas. We try to say that these migrant sex workers are migrant workers too. They’re international students, they’re mothers, they tried to work at hotels or in hospitality where they faced racism and exploitation and left; they live in fear of deportation and family separations. So even though the work is unfamiliar, those are very common experiences and emotions felt by a lot of migrant communities. We know it’s going to take some time and understanding. We have a common goal, so we’re hoping that by fighting immigration policies rooted in racism, they can understand that and we can collectively change things. But it’s a very interesting intersection to find yourself in.

SWAC: New Zealand is often shown as the decriminalization model. Yet, 20 years later, migrant sex workers still can’t work legally. What strategy should be implemented so that the same thing doesn’t happen in Canada? 

Crystal: Yeah, it’s a tough question. What happened in New Zealand wasn’t full decriminalization, as migrants are still banned from doing sex work and they face some of the same problems and risks as they would if they were working here. So I’ll just give an example: when SWAN spoke to the House of Commons committee [on the Status of Women for its study on human trafficking] this past summer, politicians admitted many of them hadn’t even heard about the migrant ban on sex work. So we have to really drive down these messages over and over and over again. Whatever the place, we do advocacy everywhere we are because even if Canada’s prostitution laws were repealed, migrants would still face the same risks. It wouldn’t change much for any of them. They could still be deported, they could still be held at the immigration detention center here in Surrey, for an indefinite amount of time, not provided a translator, traumatized, not knowing if they’re going to see their kids again. But I would just say that New Zealand was definitely a learning experience and that can’t happen here.

1. Canada Border Services Agency. ↩

2. Government of Canada. (2014). “Preamble”, Protection of Communities and Exploited Persons Act, from https://tinyurl.com/pcepacanada ↩

3. To learn more about SWAN appearances at the committee: SWAN Vancouver. (2023). SWAN Vancouver speaks to House of Commons Committee, from  https://tinyurl.com/swanvancouver ↩