During my interview with artist, advocate, and sex worker Mae West, they tell me it’s rare for someone to reach out for an interview that isn’t centered around the trauma that sex workers face or that doesn’t further stigmatize sex work.
“I’m not sure about your own experience in the sex industry, but having people speak out in publications is so important,” they say. For a split second, I feel scandalized by the mere idea of the assumption.
But that visceral reaction only further proves West’s point.
Before writing this piece, I had to come to terms with the pervasiveness of 'whorephobia.' I had to find out what 'whorephobia' as a term entails: “the shaming of sexual[ly] liberated individuals, or more specifically, sex workers” according to polyamorous educator Tiana GlittersaurusRex. I had to reconcile the fact that it’s this phobia—this deep sense of fear when it comes to sex workers and their own autonomy—that creates real–life systemic repercussions affecting sex workers in Philadelphia and other communities around the globe.
Mae West, who has worked with erotic labor advocacy organizations like the Red Umbrella Alliance (RUA) — a chapter of the Red Umbrella Fund (RUF)—over the years, is committed to combatting the vilification of sex work.
"My primary focus [as an advocate] is "nothing about us, without us"—there should be no content made, no laws made, and no legislation passed about sex workers without [hearing] our voices and experiences,” they say. Their stance ensures that the effects of stigmatization are minimized at a systemic level, meaning that the safety and self–determination of sex workers are given their due prioritization and focus.
“And there is only one model that the vast majority of us as sex workers and people who are active in this industry [agree on]," West says: decriminalization.
Advocating for decriminalization is not a novel concept as, West emphasizes, sex workers have been championing the cause for over a hundred years. In 1917, for example, more than 300 prostitutes marched on the Central Methodist Church of San Francisco to protest anti–prostitution campaigns run by the church’s pastor. To this day, RUA and similar Philadelphia groups like Project Safe believe this policy of decriminalization to be the only way forward for addressing violence against sex workers. Yet lawmakers have long believed the idea to be too radical and have opted to resolve the issue by offering diversion programs like Project Dawn Court to women arrested for prostitution. Philadelphia District Attorney Larry Krasner, a firm supporter of this method, has received praise from those that see it as an improvement from full criminalization and incarceration. However, while Project Dawn Court offers trauma therapy and drug treatment in lieu of a criminal record, those who agree to it are carefully monitored and required to appear before a judge every month. Victim advocates don’t see it as anything more than a surface–level fix rooted in a persisting fear of the trade.
West experienced these sentiments first–hand: “I grew up in a tumultuous area that is extremely conservative, and as a queer and trans person and artist and sex worker, many of my views [have] always been challenged” they say. West discovered more open communities through the performing arts and began to work towards social change initiatives that utilized this medium.
“The project I’ve been working on since right before the pandemic is '$7 Girl,' a semi–autobiographical, multi–genre performance piece around my experiences as a sex worker and specifically [advocating for the] decriminaliz[ation of] sex work,” they say. “My show revolves around this particular notion of radical permission, [to] pursue and embrace pleasure for yourself and for others, and to celebrate when those things align and embrace when they do not. I feel like in order to do that, you must combat shame … that's really where we can start to deconstruct this 'whorephobia.'”
West acknowledges that art is not excluded from perpetuating fears of sex workers and that not all sex workers have the ability to artistically speak about their experiences in the first place.
“I would say there is an overwhelming amount of sexualized and eroticized performance on stage … theatrical performance and entertainment that doesn't value sex workers because it is this performative version of sexuality,” West says.
This notion extends itself to pole dancing, an activity that’s become incredibly popular among fitness instructors and hobbyists. While pole dancing itself is a performance that stems from strippers and sex workers, #NotAStripper went viral on Instagram and Twitter six years ago when those who pole danced online vehemently tried to distance themselves from the stigmatized origins of the craft. Exercise instructors also tried to rebrand pole dancing as “pole fitness” and a method of Chinese acrobatics.
It seemed that mysticizing and giving a new name to an old practice was the only way to market the activity without the perceived baggage of its association.
“That has always been interesting to me … how far the lengths people will go to attempt to separate themselves from strippers … your hashtag is really not just doing a disservice to yourself but it's blatantly whorephobic because you are leaning into this idea that sex workers are less valuable as performers on stage, that erotic performance is less valuable whenever it is genuine or done for money,” West says. “I know many sex workers who have stopped doing performative work because of limitations that many sexualized performance spaces provide or implement on our work.”
These limitations go beyond mere unhappiness with the way one's craft and experience is portrayed on stage—oftentimes they’re connected to the current inaccessibility of arts advocacy overall.
As West says, “The street–based sex workers that I hand out supplies to on Kensington Avenue each week ... whenever [they're] just trying to survive, [advocacy] may not necessarily be the first thing on [their] mind." Yet for those that make honest efforts to include marginalized and underrepresented voices in their artistic pieces, the view of what it truly means to be an arts advocate for decriminalization can be broadened.
And so West remains a staunch arts advocate when it comes to sex work, producing Cannonball Festival, an independent performing arts event “produced by and for risk–taking artists,” and taking on RUA Philly as a community partner. They end the interview by telling me to watch out for more programming centered around arts advocacy and the decriminalization of sex work and pleasure in September, and they're excited about what can be accomplished before the year’s end.
It’s attending festivals and events like these, listening to the voices of sex workers that are working to sustain themselves and their livelihoods, that’ll finally get Philadelphia lawmakers to realize that the only thing stopping them from decriminalization is fear and stigmatization.
