So I went to a reunion [View all]

This is going to be hard to write, and may be long-- But bear with me.

30 years ago a movie was made about the street kids in Seattle. It was entitled "Streetwise"

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streetwise_(1984_film)

Now my time on the street predates that movie by a couple of years. I had children early and was into worse things at the time the movie was made. But my heart was there. My teenage years were there, my innocence was lost there. My sense of how unfair the world could be was there. My feminism was born there. My passion for Gay rights was born there. I knew people in that documentary. I lost almost every one I knew, way too young. The women mentioned who was stabbed? I know her brothers to this day.

I knew (still do) plenty of prostitutes, mostly male but many female. I know what happens on the street and although the clean up centers are much nicer, there seems to to be more resources for those who want help--heroin and meth are more common-- I don't that see much has changed.

What drives a child to the street? That's the first question, kind of like "what drives a person to prostitution?" The first question has a variety of answers, the most common one being abuse of some sort. In the case of prostitution-- it's demand, and a kind of desperate supply, it could be an economic choice, it could be coercion or forced, but the bottom line is male sexual entitlement

My oldest daughters father was turning tricks at 13. It didn't occur to me until years later, that paid or not-- he had been raped by pedophiles. Same thing with a 12 year old named Angie. She was tough, but pulling tricks at 12 is rape. Those are by no means the only examples. Tip on a very deep iceberg actually.

So, the surviving adults from streetwise--not many had been in the documentary, but ALL had been on the street living the life at the time. One woman in particular began gathering the survivors-- I'll tell you right now I didn't think there were any.

We, the ones that lived, here we are, a middle aged group having a fucking picnic, a barbecue, a meeting. 30 year old resentments were buried and there was a lot of laughter. A lot of "remember when" sentences 'Retired' prostitutes and pimps, thieves, people who had done serious time in prison, success 'I made it through all that shit' stories (I'm one of those)

But there were ghosts. So many ghosts-- HIV was called "the Gay disease" when it was called anything-- in the '70's we didn't know anything about it-- just rumors. Then the dying started. And it didn't stop-- not for years.

At the picnic I kept turning my head, hoping to see particular faces, although I knew it was futile. It wasn't just AIDs, it was murder and suicide, and horrible accidents. Serial killers.

Ghosts.

So it was profound and profane at the same time-- it was beautiful.

Don't let anyone tell you prostitution is a fully informed adult choice. It rarely is. It starts young, far too young. It's fed by sickness, and 'I deserve this' need.

We, the survivors are fully aware how lucky we are. We plan on meeting again next year. It's the only 'high school' reunion I'll ever experience. (since I went to a number of high school and was kicked out of one or two-- never did finish-- got my GED) Funny that, I mentioned it in just that way, and so many agreed.

Thanks for listening you guys--I didn't go into particulars-- some of them in my past are ugly indeed but it's something I needed to say. And this is the best place I know for this right here and right now.

And for our stalkers: no I'm not "damaged" I'm a fully-formed self actualized women, in healthy relationships, just one who realizes her past can be useful for others to hear. The damage and the pain are far less than the ghosts of my past. Healing is a incredibly powerful experience.