Conference Against Human Trafficking - why YOU should be very angry.

Let me begin this blog post by saying that the statements I attribute to various speakers at the CAHT are not verbatim. It is very difficult to pose a question, contemplate the answer whilst paying attention to the speaker and write it down simultaneously.

When N and I volunteered to attend the conference, we knew it would be difficult. We knew we would be the only two sex workers' advocates there, and we knew that both Trish Godman and Rhoda Grant would be speaking at the event. Regular readers will need no introduction to those two.

First to speak was Trish Godman and she began by saying that the movement to ban the purchase of prostitution should not be deterred by the lack of statistics, in fact she said, "we don't need numbers just now". Further, she said that the "Belle" ideology is all a myth, there is no such thing as a happy sex worker. The Belle 'myth' is wheeled out by those of us in favour of decriminalisation to strengthen our position and has no place in reality.

Godman went on to say that really, it is the buyer of sex who has all of the choice and in fact she went so far as to say that she would advocate a public list of all 'punters' to include their names and car registration numbers. The survivors of the sex trade, she said, deserve to have their voices heard.

So to the Q & A session thereafter. I challenged Godman by saying, "it's not just my clients who have a choice, I have a choice and I choose to work in the sex industry. I too deserve to have my voice heard and further, I have the right to earn a living and support my family".

Her reply is something I will never forget. She said, "of course you have a voice, you're here now and we're listening to you aren't we ? You also have a choice and if you continue with that choice in the event that this law comes into place then you will be running a risk as you will be breaking the law". She chose to ignore the last part of my question.

So, not only was Godman dismissive, she was factually incorrect, and I had no opportunity to rectify her statement as the next question was being posed.

Next to speak was Jenny Marra, who was her usual lovely and sensible self. She spoke about Kenny MacAskill's suggestion regarding the introduction of an aggravated charge on trafficking, because people trafficking is already an offence. I should also point out that Jenny was the only one of the politicians to approach both N and I and extend her hand to welcome us to the conference.

Jenny spoke further about arming the front line forces to be able to better deal with trafficking, such as police, the health services etc. and went on to say that she would be visiting the training to ensure that it would be implemented effectively. Having met Jenny before at a cross party group on trafficking I knew that she would be level headed and refreshing as a speaker and she certainly was.

Following on from the first two speakers we were separated into smaller discussion groups, and when I looked at my group I could have fled. It was comprised of many much older Soroptimists and - Jan MacLeod. Jan comes from the Women's Support Project and suffice to say that when she and I met it was very much a case of - "we meet at last". Yes, there have been times when we have clashed in the past and I'm sure that there will be times in the future too, but to disappoint you all, I have to tell you, Jan is a lovely person. She's witty, warm and engaging and as she said herself, we may not agree on the legislative piece but we are very much on the same page when it comes to other aspects of women's welfare. In fact, we spoke about the possibility of an outreach service in Glasgow which would involve visiting the working flats rather than police knocking on the door because the ladies therein would be far more likely to speak to another sex worker. And I didn't just say all of that because Jan admitted she reads my blog, honest.

The Soroptomists were a very pleasant surprise. They were open and willing to listen when I told them that as an industry we are very self regulating and that we would look to report anything untoward as a policy. Overall I was very encouraged by the group discussion and we took time out for lunch. Great raspberry cheesecake.

Next to speak was Gunilla Edberg, a feminist lawyer and a former Special Advisor to the Swedish Government. Edberg said that it was time to break the silence in relation to the real perpetrators, the clients. Prostitution she said, is a crime of violence and as women in prostitution, we are not afforded the option to go to the police.

Further, she said that by following the buyers, the organisers will be found and that the only people who are usually opposed to criminalisation are the buyers. The part which stood out was when she said that we must not buy into the stereotype of the "lonely client". These are not men in search of companionship, rather they are "sexually experienced" individuals who know exactly what they are doing in terms of exploiting and repeatedly violating sex workers. She finished by saying that prostitution is akin to indignity and a loss of integrity.

Of most interest to me was the next speaker, Rhoda Grant. In fact, we first met in the ladies "restroom", and I extended my hand and a smile.

"Rhoda ? Delighted to meet you at last. I'm Laura Lee."

"I'm aware of who you are and your work".

Right, stage set then. To her credit she did shake my hand and smile too.

When she began speaking, her tone and delivery were very different to that of Godman. She was quietly spoken, flat and monotonous and I found it difficult to stay focused at times. I was soon jolted out of my stupor in spectacular fashion. To a shocked "oooh" from the audience Grant declared, "studies have shown that 75% of women enter the industry as children".

Come Q & A, I challenged her."No-one will deny that the notion of 75% of new entrants being children is horrific. However, the statistic you are quoting is from a study conducted in 2004 by Melrose, which was based on 47 street sex workers. Since we know that only about 10% of all sex work takes place on street, then those figures as presented are inadmissable".

Her face was a picture of dark thunderous anger.

Here, in my own words, is Grant's (visibly flustered) reply - "I CAN rely on that study because there are very few others done".

N and I were aghast, and speechless.

As someone who obviously also (begrudgingly) reads my blog, she went on to say - "I'd also like to say that the notion of using disability as an excuse is offensive and appalling".

So there we have it. To highlight the perfectly natural desires of disabled persons when it comes to paid sex is offensive. To my disabled clients, take a bow. You are little more than an excuse.

Get ANGRY. Anger and action are what will stop the success of this preposterous abolition attempt.

LL xx

Let's get to WORK.

Rhoda Grant MSP believes that ‘prostitution in Scotland is a form of sexual violence against women and sexual exploitation.’ She believes that ‘prostitution is inherently harmful and dehumanising’ and that ‘the majority of those who are involved in prostitution are unwilling participants.' She is proposing to make it illegal to purchase sex in Scotland.

Now, I know, and you know, that her assertions are simply not true. I know from years of experience at various levels in the sex industry that in fact the vast majority of sex workers are working (quite contentedly) of their own volition and to support themselves and their families. Indeed, my colleagues and I have been visiting brothels so we know the truth, and we think it's time that the truth is told.

The public consultation on Rhoda Grant’s proposals for a new law to criminalise the purchase of sex is open until 14th December. This is an open consultation - you do not have to be a resident of Scotland or the UK to respond.

All of us at SCOT-PEP have been campaigning to stop this law going through and we will continue to do so but we need YOU to use your voice too.

Are you a sex worker, a client or an individual interested in human rights and safety for sex workers? Politicians need to know the realities of sex work, so let's tell them!

If you are a sex worker and enjoy your job, if you do not feel exploited or that it is dehumanising, harmful or degrading, SAY SO.

If you choose to work as a sex worker because it is the best available option for you, SAY SO.

If you see disabled clients who would otherwise never experience the joy of skin to skin contact, SAY SO.

If you feel that making it illegal for your clients to pay you is not going to tackle trafficking or ‘reduce demand’ but deprive you of a living, SAY SO.

If you are a client, who uses the services of sex workers and have yet to find a victim of coercion or trafficking, SAY SO.

If you work in health services and come into contact with sex workers who don't fit *that* stereotype, SAY SO.

Here's what you can do.

You can write to Rhoda Grant and tell her what you think of her proposals.

The consultation document asks specifically for answers to 8 questions – but you can also just write in with your opinion if you prefer. Your letter will be much more powerful if you can add your own views and experiences, although at Scot-PEP we have prepared some template letters here which you can use as a guideline for your own letter. In fact you can simply print the letters off and sign them.

You don't need to use your real name, for example you can use your work name or an alias to send in your opinion. If you do use your own name you must ask for your response to be treated as anonymous if you do not wish your name to be published on Rhoda Grant’s website and by the Scottish Parliament. (Only names will be published – not contact addresses, telephone numbers, email addresses etc.)

You can email your letter to: Rhoda.Grant.msp@scottish.parliament.uk

or post it to:

Rhoda Grant MSP
Room M1.06
Scottish Parliament
Edinburgh
EH99 1SP

It has never been more important to stand up for your rights and to have your voice heard. Please don't let this new proposal drive our already clandestine and stigmatised jobs further underground and please don't allow politicians to tell you how you feel or how you ought to live your life. Enough is enough.

Can't cook, won't cook

See, here's the thing.

I need a hobby. I don't have time for a hobby but I need one nonetheless. This is because I am about to embark on the two most stressful months of my life, (exams, activism and a personal life which would drive St. Peter to genocide). I've all but decided that said hobby will be cookery, mainly because I can't cook to save anyone's life and secondly because it's flexible in terms of how and when I wreck it.

I have an idealistic vision of yours truly, resplendent in a gingham apron, smiling beatifically and shelling peas effortlessly into a sparkling stainless steel pot, to produce an acclaimed home made dish which is the envy of every middle class housewife in the village. So much so, that they will decline to enter their gooseberry jams and strawberry flans into the annual county fair for fear of humiliation.

I fear that this vision of mine is doomed to failure for lots of reasons really, but let me examine just two.

1. I CAN'T COOK

Quite a while ago now, a dear friend presented me with a gift of a cookery book, the short title of which might as well have been, "cooking for gobshites". Chapter one was devoted to "how to cook an egg". What could possibly go wrong ? Particularly when they even included instructions on how to cook an egg in a microwave, (for busy professionals, you know). Place the egg on a small saucer with a little water and place in microwave. Idiot proof really, except at no point did they say to remove it from the shell firstly. It may surprise you to learn that when I tried to "top" the egg with a small spoon the resulting explosion and coating of walls was enough to send my house mates into convulsions and that tale went around our social circles for far longer than I would have preferred.

Undeterred, and now in my own bedsit, I announced to a fellow student and good pal that I was going to cook her a Sunday roast dinner. Perhaps I chose to ignore her crestfallen expression, I mean nothing was going to get in the way of this ideal project. I produced lovely vegetables and gravy, all topped off with chicken which was a little bit crispy on the outside but I felt that the fact it was a bit pink in the middle kinda made up for it. After all, you can have medium beef, so you can have medium chicken, right ? Both of us were in bed for two days, with only a large basin and tender sips of 7-up for company. I did apologise.

2. MY ADDICTIVE/PERFECTIONIST NATURE

As a pseudo-adult, I am now acutely aware of my highly addictive personality.

When Amanda and I were on the tour circuit, we both discovered a game on Facebook which at the time, was all the rage, Farmville. Suddenly, I had a farm to tend every day and most of my friends were playing it too. When it got to the point where I was spending up to two hours a day milking cyber cows and reaping cyber strawberry harvests just so I could "level up", I had to acknowledge that this was becoming somewhat of an obsession. With a heavy heart, I deleted my account although I would like it noted that I had the highest score at the time, hell I even had my own mechanical plough.

The early days of my recovery from Farmville were difficult and there were many times when Amanda had to physically restrain me from climbing a fence just off the A9 to deftly organise some bales of hay in an adjoining field. Indeed, come lambing time I still get the odd twitch and if I had my way, those lambs would be organised into groups according to size, weight and colour coded too. On even daring to present with such a twitch, Amanda sits on my head, surprisingly effective.(Truly, that woman will never know what she means to me.)

In real terms with my new chosen hobby, gone will be the apron, the smile and the award winning marmalade.

In it's place will be a woman demented, stomping up and down the galley at 2am and shrieking -

"THE RECIPE SAID TWO HUNDRED FECKIN' DEGREES".

I am determined though. At this point I would usually ask you to "wish me luck".
Instead the mantra in my house when I step into the kitchen seems appropriate -

Good luck everyone.

LL xx

P.S : Hardcore activism begins mid-October, as soon as I have my horrendous exams out the way. You have been warned.

On the subject of Rhoda Grant

Quite a while ago now, I took La Princess to see the new(ish) Katy Perry film. I was looking forward to it rather like I look forward to a smear test, irritating but necessary nevertheless. For the first part, I was mildly interested and just able to resist the infantile temptation to flick popcorn at random heads. Understand this, embarrassing your children in public is not a benefit, it's an obligation.

Imagine my pleasant surprise then, when I discovered what an immensely enjoyable outing it was. The film itself wasn't exactly oscar award winning, but what struck me was the way in which Ms. Perry dealt with the disintegration of her marriage to Russell Brand. She was in the middle of a gruelling tour and absolutely exhausted and one was left with the feeling that his treatment of her during the break up was nothing short of appalling. (Lawyer clients, quit twitching, I of course mean allegedly.)

There was a scene which will stay with me for a long time. Our heroine was lying on a bench where ordinarily she would have her make up and hair done before going on stage and she was crying. Now, I don't mean "crocodile tears and gentle dabbing of eyes with embalmed tissues" crying, I mean sobbing. The majority had no idea what was wrong, since she had been intensely private about her marital troubles and only the very closest to her such as her sister were able to give her some comfort.

There were various people clucking around her who were clearly unwelcome at that moment not because she was being unkind but because she just couldn't do the whole "air kiss" thing. Having sought solace with her closest, she took a deep breath, looked at her make up artist and said "START". Various voices arose into the fracas, "are you sure ? we can cancel the show". Her reply was simply, "I SAID START". Start they did and thereafter, she managed to find a huge smile from somewhere and went on to deliver an undeniably mind blowing performance.

I can relate to that. I know how she felt and I know what it took to find that smile and "KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON". Crucially, she wasn't alone and there was a huge amount of support in evidence. Thanks to those treasured people around her she found that last reserve of strength.

This week, Rhoda Grant announced her proposed change to the legislation in Scotland (link here) and when I read it I could have sobbed myself. Debunking the "statistics" quoted will not be an issue and together with her own comments, the whole paper made me gasp in disbelief. It is simply unthinkable that anyone in a position of supposed power could be so ill informed, not to mention doggedly determined to proceed on the basis of some seriously skewed beliefs and statistics.

But if I thought for one moment that I could curl up on a sofa and weep, not a chance. Once again, I am surrounded by those who truly care not to mention the army of activists who will fight to the death to ensure this shoddy and contemptible piece of legislation will never see the light of day. We will not be dictated to and no-one, but NO-ONE will take away our rights and our livelihoods. We are many, we are united and we are strong.

I said START.


LL xx

On the subject of disabilities

(The following blog post contains graphic scenes of sexual contact with disabled persons, reader discretion is advised. If you think you may be affected by any of the content contained in this blog post, I suggest you feck off and read a blog about flower arranging instead.)

I have a client I see from time to time, let's call him 'K'. K is a young guy, very handsome, always spotlessly clean and smelling like heaven on earth. His emails send me into convulsions, he has the most amazing sense of humour and his wry observations on the topics of the day would outdo many contemporary writers.

Like most men, one of K's favourites is fellatio, he likes nothing more than for yours truly to peel off the layers down to lingerie with stockings and suspenders and get to work. He lies back in blissful abandonment, and enjoying every moment.

Every so often, I get a swift blow to the back of the head, something I'm accustomed to now. We seem to have developed a ratio around the whole experience, for every three or so thumps, there is one "sorry". K can't avoid smacking me, because he has very limited motor control of his limbs as a result of his cerebral palsy. In the end, we both usually end up in fits of laughter at the absurdity of it all, because that's all we CAN do really. How wonderful.

Many years ago and in a brothel far away came an elderly man and it's fair to say that he frightened small children (to coin a phrase) because he had developed a form of mouth cancer which back then, very little was known about. His treatment at the time involved cutting the offending tissue away, which meant that on one side of his face his cheek was missing and if you looked at him from the side, he looked like a sinister, grinning skeleton. His wife had died some time previously and as a result of his appearance he lived as a recluse, going out only every couple of days for messages. Once every couple of months though, he took a taxi to the parlour where I worked and I knew what he wanted.

I would thank him for my chocolates, light some candles and play some soft music. After that, he would drown me in baby oil and massage me from head to toe, every so often dipping his head just to inhale my perfume and bury his face into my neck. That was his treasured contact which he looked forward to so much. After about a year and a half of our appointments I moved to London but to this day I still think of him, a true gentleman in every sense of the word.

All of which leads me to the question, if the purchase of "sex" is banned, then what will become of those men who rely solely on sex workers for their needs, whatever they may be ? Can you honestly foresee a day when that elderly gent will be able to join a dating site and find a woman for a massage and a cuddle ? And what of K ? Will he ever meet a woman who can meet his needs and see beyond the exterior ?

It really angers me when I read the views of various writers who paint a picture of my clients as insatiable lust driven animals. A lack of knowledge on their subject is no deterrent to most of those critics. Let me be quite clear here, it's not a question of entitlement, not at all. No man is entitled to claim a sexual act as his right. On the other hand, I do believe that disabled clients ought to have the same opportunities as their able bodied counterparts, that's the differentiation.

If Rhoda Grant's new proposal is adopted as law, it will be a shocking indictment on just how small minded and blinkered we are as a country. It's time we recognised that not only is it impossible to "reduce demand" but also, "demand" is a very complex and multi-layered animal, as indeed is "supply", (best described as diverse in the extreme).

Frankly, were I a purchaser of "sex", I know I would find the notion of an ill-informed politician telling me what I can and can't do in the privacy of my own bedroom downright insulting. Ironically, to condemn those men I have written about to a life of solitude and loneliness on foot of a Victorian attitude towards the exchange of sexual services for money is hugely immoral in itself.

A letter to The Irish Times

A Chara,

I am an Irish sex worker of 17 years experience and although I now live in Scotland, I lived and worked in Ireland until 2003.

The current consultation around paid sex is in danger of being derailed. Much of the "evidence" is badly presented and seriously skewed. One of the chief advocates for criminalising the consensual and essentially private acts we engage in is Ruhama, who have based their campaign on the following statement - "75% of all sex workers enter the industry as children". That statement is based on a study (Melrose, 2002) which had as its subjects a mere forty six women, three quarters of whom were engaged in street work. As only 10% of all sex work is conducted on the street, the 75% figure is not statistically allowable. It is being manipulated purely to create a moral panic. It is not based on fact.

Some facts - 81.7% of Irish clients said they had never met an escort they suspected was being physically abused. (Irish Escort Clients Survey, 2006).

Following decriminalisation in New Zealand, 93.8% of sex workers reported feeling that they had health and safety rights under the law ( Abel, Fitzgerald and Brunton 2007).

In the UK, 440 sex workers were interviewed and only 7% reported that being paid meant that they handed control over to the client. 85% of the women were aged 26 and over. 32.9% of the women had degrees whilst 18% held post-graduate qualifications (Jenkins, 2009).

Ireland has for many years laboured under the shame of its treatment of unmarried mothers in Magdalene laundries. It is time to stop marginalising and stigmatising sex workers who, ultimately, are inheriting identical practices.

The International Union of Sex Workers campaigns for the human, civil and labour rights of those who work in the sex industry, and for policy which is based on evidence. Evidence, please.

Is mise le meas,

Laura Lee
International Union of Sex Workers

Apes and Altruism

Is there any such thing as true altruism ? I ask because of late I have been studying apes, not the type to be found at the taxi rank just off Sauchiehall Street on a Friday night, but bonobos. The female of the species appease an aggressive male by having sex with him, and in doing so ensure the continuity of peace within the group. That's all very magnanimous of her, but isn't there a reciprocal benefit ? As a female I know that you can't put a price on peace and quiet and what of her own sexual pleasure ? Also, what of her own increased standing in her peer group as a peace maker ?

I ask for your opinions on altruism (and do please feel free to comment) because last weekend, I raised the level of magnanimousness to infinity, I agreed to take LP to a "dance competition" in Blackpool. If the truth be known, I was rather looking forward to it because I had never been to Blackpool before and also, I knew she would enjoy the experience because she has been training SO hard, (for which read, almost taking the cat's eye out in the living room with various contortions which would have Madonna reaching for her cod liver oil).

On arrival to the recommended hotel (which by the way, I wouldn't order a sub to stay in), we were greeted with the familiar base beat of the music which was to haunt my life and my dreams for the next 48 hours.

Every parent's worst nightmare (aside from the very obvious) must surely be your treasured child, having consumed three cans of red bull, cartwheeling across the reception area of a hotel, almost knocking the zimmer frame out from under Glenda, recently arrived back from her trip to the local bingo. Ordinarily, I would die before I would allow my little darling anywhere near red bull, but here I had to concede because this is the way it's done at "comps". The dancing that they do is high energy, high effort and in repeated rounds, so if your little treasure wants to do well, taurine it is, like it or lump it.

One gets to an age where night clubs just no longer hold any appeal, the loud music, blinding lights and having to roar at each other become tiresome, a good meal out with some laughter becomes far preferable and to be honest, the thoughts of having some gobshite try and bellow some cheesy lines at me at the bar of a noisy nightclub in an attempt to get me under his duvet just fills me with horror. GET. LOST.

So, here's where the altruism comes into play. I placed myself in a darkened function room for two days, with two hundred wild eyed little princesses, all decked from head to toe in sequins and flinging themselves around to the incessant bellow of massive speakers, HELL.

Of most curiosity were the Mothers who wondered past with a broad beam, "...you enjoying yourself ? It's a great atmosphere !!"

ARE YOU QUITE MAD ??

From time to time, I took time out to retreat to our hotel room, and in spite of my immortal terror of them, I could enjoy the sight of several large rats scampering over the bins at the back of the hotel, (told you it was a dump) mainly because I was two floors above them. I allowed myself a flight of fantasy and pictured what it must be like as a rat. I'm sure it's pretty shit overall, what with natural predators, poisons, not to mention those eejits on a "life of grime", but at least they don't have to sit and "enjoy" two days of some truly dreadful music which would drive squatters and bed bugs out, never mind hotel "guests".

So in the end, I gave up. Sod it, if you can't beat them, join them and I necked two red bulls just to join in the hysteria and see what I was missing out on. Bugger all actually, but at least it convinced LP that an early night was in order if only to stop me doing my "Ebeneezer Good" rave moves on the dance floor, mission accomplished.

In the end, when I had all but voluntarily signed myself in to the nearest secure unit where I could draw with some nice non toxic crayons all day, came the moment, that which made it all worthwhile.

She had done it and lifted a very large trophy over her head, to tumultuous applause, and screeches from her amassed completely delirious and cross eyed peers.

"Altruism" my backside, the reciprocal feeling of maternal pride was one I won't let go of for a very long time to come.

LL xx