What I’m Reading:
Sometimes, when I tell clients that I have a master’s degree in theology, they look at me quizzically. If they are brave, they say out loud what I know they are thinking: how did you go from being a seminary student to a whore?
There is a long biographical answer to this question, and a short theoretical one. Over time, I have come to realize that the short answer—they aren’t as different as they seem—is enough. Anything more is just details.
For this reason, it was validating to pick up Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, Learning to Walk in the Dark. In it, Taylor makes a similar observation. Having put herself through seminary as a cocktail waitress—cocktail waitresses aren’t sex workers, but the job is certainly sexualized and at the time she was doing it, stigmatized—she draws a comparison between what she learned in seminary and what she learned in the club.
“I like to think that I learned as much about human nature waiting tables at Dante’s as I did writing papers for my seminary professors,” she comments. “One happened in the dark, and one happened in the light, but together they offered me a better education … than I could have gotten by attending just one of them.”
It is not just that she learned about humanity through her experiences serving drinks, but rather that over time she came to see church goers and club patrons as one in the same, as seeking the same experience in different ways. She says, “Later, when I stood in front of an altar waving incense, I would remember standing in front of the bar at Dante’s waving cigarette smoke out of my face, and the exact same feeling of tenderness would wash over me, because the people in both places were so much alike.”
She adds, “Sometimes I wondered if it even mattered whether our communion cups were filled with consecrated wine or draft beer, as long as we bent over them long enough to recognize each other as kin.”
I have been neither an ordained minister nor a cocktail waitress, but I have been an educator and a whore (sometimes, at the same time). In Taylor’s framing, one of these professions takes place during the day, and one at night; one in the light, and one in darkness; one in the open, and one underground.
While Taylor does not seem to have whores in mind when she wrote the book (or at least while she didn’t explicitly name us), I couldn’t help but wonder if her attempt to rehabilitate the notion of darkness doesn’t also have the potential to destigmatize sex workers who are, after all, ladies of the night.
What I’m Thinking About:
One of the things that I appreciated about this book is Taylor’s insistence on embracing darkness. Indeed, very early on she says, “I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.”
Within a Judeo-Christian framework, where the creation story begins when God separates light from darkness, this insistence is radical.
Indeed, the very start of the Bible begins like this:
And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
And God saw the light, and it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness. (Genesis 1:3-4)
It is no wonder, given the histo-cultural centrality of light, that we live in a culture that fears darkness and does everything it can to keep it at bay. Taylor’s mission, in the book, is to reimagine what could be possible under what she referred to as a “lunar spirituality,” one that focuses as much on darkness as it does on light. She asks, “How much more was in store for me if I could learn to walk in the dark?”
As I was reading this book, I realized that one of the reasons that I liked it so much is that, as a whore, I have become accustomed to walking in the dark (metaphorically—I usually work during the day!).
I survive and provide for myself and my people in a profession that is stigmatized and criminalized, where I’ve had to learn to pave my own way. I thrive even as I’m told by politicians, SWERFs, and my family members that my way of being in the world should be pushed further and further underground, making it invisible to the light of day. And, I have learned to walk in the dark in community with other whores, who have taught me things that are only possible to learn in the shadows, in the margins.
In our hotel beds, we offer our clients an opening, an invitation, to accompany us on this journey. We give them space to face that which they are not allowed to acknowledge in the light. Desires, fears, truths. Taylor hints at this possibility when she says, “A bed is where you come face-to-face with what really matters because it is too dark for most of your usual, shallowing distractions to work.”
As an out sex worker, I have made it a political priority to bring my work into the light, to not be ashamed of it, and to push those around me to confront their biases about who sex workers are, and the value of our work. This is work that I will continue to engage in for the rest of my life. If sex workers continue to face state violence, stigma, and economic precarity, I will continue to fight.
Yet, reading this book made me also think about the myriad ways that occupying this shadow-y space also opens other possibilities, ones that carry their own value and weight. “Who would stick around to wrestle a dark angel all night long if there were any chance of escape?” Taylor asks. “The only answer I can think of is this: someone in deep need of blessing; someone willing to limp forever for the blessing that follows the wound.”
To be clear, some lessons aren’t worth learning, sometimes the wounds run too deep. But facing some degree of pain and fear and darkness can lead to growth and fulfillment, something not possible when all encounters with darkness are pushed away. Taylor reminds us, “New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.”
What I’m Excited About:
As I am thinking about the balance between lightness and darkness, I am grateful to live a life that allows me to deeply connect with many different people, and I’m grateful that this life is also filled with freedom to explore travel, friendship, fellowship, pleasure, intimacy, and love.
I’m excited to feel sand between my toes at the beach.
I’m excited to see the babies in my family explore nature.
I’m excited to slip between the sheets with my lover and many of you.
I’m excited to embrace those in my community that I haven’t seen since I was in Miami last May.
I’m excited for the opportunity to fulfill fantasies that you’ve only contemplated in the dark.
And I’m excited to hold you in my arms when it becomes too overwhelming.
Booking & Availability:
I am doing a lot of traveling in May, and it is a balance of social, work, and family.
5/6-5/7: Richmond, VA
5/8-5/11: OFF/VACAY
5/11-5/12: Richmond, VA
6/15-5/14: Pittsburgh, PA
5/15-5/18: Miami, FL
5/19/5/21: Cleveland, OH
5/22 on: Pittsburgh, PA
Make sure to check out my complete travel schedule on my website.
