Don’t Ask These Questions

I get a lot of frustrating questions about stripping. I’ll run through some of the most common cases and explain how they reveal implicit bias.

What’s the worst experience you’ve had with a customer?

Why go straight to the negative? I’m sure anyone who has worked in sales or customer service has had negative experiences dealing with clients. That’s the nature of working pretty much any job. Designers deal with fussy clients who flake mid-commission and don’t pay out what they contractually agreed to. Doctors deal with hypochondriacs who believe they’re capable of diagnosing themselves. Lawyers spend years fighting cases only to have their clients reoffend and undo years of their labor. We all deal with shitty people. Why not ask about the best experience I’ve had with a client?

What will get you beat in the locker room?

Again, why are we talking about violence between my coworkers and me? We’re all women and nonbinary folks working a job together, sharing space and struggle side-by-side. Of course locker room fights are infamous, but why continue to propagate such a negative narrative? What about asking about friendships in the locker room? Why not ask who has my back when things are difficult? Fights happen in all workplaces, and these altercations can be just as devastating when they aren’t physical. What about when you’re fired for expressing an opinion contrary to your company? What about when you suffer in silence while your coworkers create a toxic environment where microaggressions pass unaddressed?

How long do you plan to dance?

This question makes my blood boil because nobody asks this question of any other profession with the same frequency. Do we ask waiters how long they plan to wait tables? Janitors how long they plan to mop floors? Teachers how long they plan to educate children? Why does my job have to be regarded with an eye toward quitting? I know strippers who are in their forties who still bring home thousands of dollars every week. They work hard. The years in our profession have only sharpened their skills and bettered their performance. They have families and children they support with their income. They are legitimate laborers and their work deserves respect.

Would you still do your job if you weren’t getting paid?

Nigga, I wouldn’t be doing shit if I wasn’t getting paid. Nobody would. Would lawyers continue filing mountains of paperwork, putting in long hours corralling unruly clients without a paycheck to match their labor? Would accountants continue crunching numbers in banks with green tinted fluorescent lights flickering overhead if they weren’t putting money into their 401K accounts? Would doctors go through over a decade of education, then remain on-call on weekends and holidays if they weren’t making six figures? Most people have some kind of passion hobby we do happily without pay, but the reality is we are putting in hours to get paid. We live in a capitalist society, and that means money is key to living with dignity. People seldom ask other professionals if they would perform their job without pay, so why do people feel entitled to ask this question to dancers? I also want to say that I love dancing. I love the stage set. I love the flow of a well executed routine. Yes, I would still pole dance without money. Honestly, I’ve also come to love the expression of floor work. It is deeply intrinsically fulfilling. Fuck you.

How does your job affect your relationship/dating?

Again, let’s try to apply this question to other professionals. Do we ask the sanitation worker who has to wake up at 3 a.m. for her shift if her uncommon hours affects her relationship? Do we ask the videographer who has to travel out of state for two weeks every month if her job affects her relationship? Do we ask the swimsuit photographer if his frequent interactions with hot male models affects his relationship? Do we ask the politician who publicly lies about his beliefs and lives a double life if his occupation affects his relationship? We don’t. We don’t scrutinize them the same way we do sex workers. Surprisingly, my job only affects my relationship in the sense of logistics. I work weekends, and my partner works Monday through Friday, which means the time we get together can be a bit scarce.

What do you really want to do with your life?

It’s funny how people are unable to grasp that dancing could be what I want to do with my life right now, that it could be part of the complex picture I’m painting. I want to be dancing, and so I dance. I feel like people only ask this question to sex workers and people running illegal operations like gang bangers and drug dealers. There are plenty of onerous occupations. What about people running cattle yards? Do we ask them at every opportunity if leading cattle to be sold for slaughter is really their dream? Do we ask the person working a desk job they hate, where they spend the majority of their time browsing facebook memes, if this is what they dreamed of as a child?

What’s your escape plan?

I didn’t realize I needed to escape from something. Am I trying to escape from economic stability or my comfortable middle class lifestyle? Do I need to get away from all the friends I’ve made? Am I running from the complete freedom I have to determine what days I work and how many hours? Do I need to not have an unlimited number of sick/vacation days? Tell me exactly what I need to escape from, my dude.

People ask these questions without realizing that they are reinforcing the most difficult part of my job: handling stigma. I can handle a lot of things, but what hurts most is the way people devalue my job and assume that I don’t have autonomy; that I haven’t made an informed decision; and that I chose my occupation under duress instead of freely and happily. I’m a stripper for a number of reasons. I was inspired by other women around me who started dancing and made profoundly touching art that I felt connected to. I was tired of being poor and working for people who didn’t value my labor. I wanted the financial stability. I’m also slutty and enjoy getting paid to flirt with strangers. I’m not wild about everyone, but I frequently get to spend time with men I’m attracted to who pay me for my time. It’s a good job, and I feel lucky I can work it.

To put a button on it: next time you have a question for a dancer, consider whether or not your question demonstrates implicit bias. Pose the question toward another profession and ask yourself if you would ask it to doctors, educators, or sanitation workers. Ask yourself how you would feel if someone asked you the same question. Don’t project your negativity on us, because these questions are old and deserve to be retired.