Imagine this...

Imagine this.

It's summer and you're working in a small town where the club has it's own accommodation for dancers. The accommodation is really nice. It's a gorgeous house surrounded by an 8 foot concrete fence, making it very private. It has huge verandas, luxurious outdoor furniture, an immaculately kept pool with a villa next to it.
It's mid afternoon and you have dragged yourself out of bed, into the pool, as do the other girls. It's private, and you've all performed faux cunnilingus on each other anyway, so everyone is naked. Girls are sun tanning, fake boobs are floating in the water. Bottoms pop up as girls dive. It occurs to you that this is the stuff that wet dreams and playboy fantasies are made of.
Except for one thing...

EVERYONE. CAN'T. STOP. FARTING.


These lithe water nymphs are farting in front of each other and laughing when it smells bad. Sneaking up on each other in the water and letting go of depth chargers. Discussing customers we have farted on over the years (One girl deliberately farts on guys because she thinks it makes them get a longer dance) and generally just being grotty human beings. It's glorious!

Sometimes it's only one or two girls with the toots. Sometimes it's all of us.
Once you've changed a tampon and checked the string in front of your workmates, then stood in front of the mirror and checked yourself for stray toilet paper, got close and personal with sweaty ladies and their odours, farts just aren't a big deal anymore. Being up all night is rough, so when you wake up manners aren't a high priority. Being comfortable is. And having a giggle is a bonus.

So there's no lesson to this post folks. Just an insight into what strippers really get up to in our time off.

TOOT TOOT!

Dancing for people who have disabilities.

Recently, an amazing young woman named Stella Young passed away.
I have been fortunate enough to see her speak and do comedy several times, and there was a lot I loved about her. There's not really anything I can say about her that hasn't already been extensively covered in the media, but that's not why I loved her so. As a disability activist who helped develop the National Disability Insurance Scheme and was a proud member of the LGBTI community, she was a wonderful voice campaigning for acknowledgement that 'crips' (her word, not mine) are sexual beings too.

I hope many of my readers would be familiar with Maslow's hierarchy of needs.
For the unfamiliar, it's a theory regarding what a human needs to survive and reach self actualisation. In the world of disabilities, this hierarchy is often used as the gold standard to measure care outcomes.
Despite being invented in the 1940s and not having a great body of evidence behind it, Maslow's hierarchy has stuck around because it is a useful and easy tool with which to assess a persons life and needs.

A quick google search will get you dozens of versions of this pyramid. The one above is taken from Wikipedia. Compare it with the two below, which are both from the first page of a google image search for Maslow's hierarchy.

Do you notice anything different?

Sex has disappeared. Sex, considered a basic need by Maslow is not mentioned at all. Sexual intimacy is turned into 'intimate relationships' or also not mentioned. For some people, intimate relationships implies a close friendship, but this is not what Maslow was implying at all.
In these sanitised versions, sex just isn't talked about. And that's a sadly accurate reflection of what's happening in the world of people who live with disabilities.

The sexual and intimate needs of people living with disabilities aren't often discussed or addressed in our society, despite sexual intercourse and sexual intimacy both being listed on the Maslow's heirarchy of needs.
This is a difficult conversation to have. The idea that humans have a right to sex seems at odds with everything we have learned about not feeling entitled to sex. And when disabilities are involved, new grey areas surrounding consent, abuse and appropriate use of public funds emerge.
It seems obvious to me that this is an area where sex workers are needed in our society, yet many people continue to buy into the notions that sex workers are all trafficked victims - and that sex work itself is immoral and dirty.
Fortunately, both advocates for people living with a disability and sex workers who specialise in working with disabilities are starting to make headway in this discussion.
For anyone interested in seeing both what empowered sex work looks like, and the difference sex workers can make in the lives of people who live with disabilities, I'd like to direct you to a movie called Scarlet Road.

But I'm a stripper, not a full service sex worker. I provide company, entertainment, fantasy and gratuitous nudity. My services are considered a luxury reserved for those who can afford them. Does this mean disabled people don't deserve to access my services?

People living with a disability do come to strip clubs. Some of them save a portion of their disability allowance (which doesn't even keep them above the poverty line) so as to enjoy some kind of fantasy and intimacy with women they could never flirt with outside of this environment. These people are judged as wasting public funds.

Some people are fortunate enough to have a wealthy family, or are able to work, or acquired their disability after amassing a reasonable amount of wealth. The non-judgmental eyes of a stripper is one of the few places they can go to live out their fantasies, especially in places where full service sex work is illegal. Surely, in an age when governments and services are focusing on enabling people living with a disability to live as normal lives as possible, they're entitled to partake in the same services as everyone else. I think they are.

Over the years, I have danced for many people with disabilities.
I've danced for the deaf, many of whom would argue that being deaf is not a disability.
I have danced for men in wheelchairs, and navigated clubs that don't have disabled access in order to find a space to do it.
But the most memorable ones for me are the men I have danced for with Acquired Brain Injuries (ABIs).

Two men in particular stand out in my memory. Both have severe ABIs that affect their daily life, both chose me to spend time with in a strip club. Both reminded me that there are a lot of transferable skills between being a stripper and a paramedic.

Dancing for men with ABIs is hard!
The normal fun, exciting, bubbly pace of a stripper is difficult for them to keep up with. A lot of strippers don't realise they have an ABI and describe them as 'that weird, creepy dude.'
And so once again, my life as a stripper and my life as a (soon to be) paramedic cross over.


Not everyone knows what to look for in an ABI, so the first step is spotting it.
Both of these men had interrupted speech patterns and required extra time to process their thoughts and decisions. Adding alcohol doesn't speed this up. Both of these men required extra time and space to decide if they wanted a dance from me. When time is money, and sales training tries to rush people into a decision, spotting the difference between someone who wants to waste your time and someone who actually does need time is important.

Keeping things simple:
Don't overload them with information and decisions. Speak (relatively) slowly and only give them one question at a time.
I've seen both dancers and paramedics make this mistake many times.
A great example of a paramedic making this mistake was when we were going to transport a woman with a TBI and a flare up of her chronic condition. The paramedic said something like 'Don't worry, we'll take you to the hospital where the doctors can sort you out. You'll want to bring your coat because it's cold outside. Do you have everything you need like your wallet and keys?'
It was obvious that our patient couldn't keep up with all of this information and quickly became confused. She got her wallet and asked if we were going to the hospital.

Setting clear expectations:
Remember, this person doesn't process information easily. Take the time to explain the rules of the dance and give them time to process it. With patients, take the time to explain what's going to happen next, and give them time to process it. Then tell them about the next step, and let them process that.

Reflective listening, sympathy and empathy.
We all learn about these, we all think we're good at doing these, but this is a difficult skill and most of us suck at it. When someone is describing their daily challenges to you, challenges that you have never had to face or endure, get away from saying 'I understand' or 'I'm sorry' or redirecting to a happier topic. Don't minimise their hardships. This person wants their feelings to be validated, but validating feelings while not allowing the conversation to become too negative is a fine line. The 'It could be worse' option is also really insulting, unless you know that person well.
'That sounds really difficult, but I'm glad you've kept your sense of humour' or 'You have been really unlucky, but we can still enjoy our time together today' allows you to acknowledge and validate their feelings without allowing the conversation to turn into a pity fest.

Unfortunately, due to the anonymity of my blog, I can't talk about where I originally had to practice and get good at all of this, you'll just have to trust me. Conveniently, this approach works well with most patients, especially confused, affected or those who don't have great English. So remember, slow down, keep it simple, acknowledge their struggle and find something positive about meeting them today. It takes practice and reflection, but you'll be fine.