Raw reflections on racism, whiteness and Finnish sex work laws by BIPoC and white sex workers and anarchists
Commercial sex in Finland is usually said to be legal. However, selling sexual services in Finland is actually forbidden for a big group of people: those who don’t have Finnish citizenship. This legislation has it’s roots in racism and colonial history and it creates very different – and largely unspoken – realities for different people involved in commercial sex.
1. Introduction
2. A little bit about by whom and why this text was written
3. The current legislation and segregation
4. Some experiences of having to live and work with the law by BIPoC sex workers from outside the EU
5. Reflections on whiteness by white sex workers
6. What can one do about segregation? Some thoughts on liberation
1. Introduction
This text is the first part of a series of three articles concerning the effects and history of colonialism and racism, how they have shaped the legislation governing sex work and migration in Finland, and what kinds of effects they have on people. In this first part of the series we will briefly explain the current legislation in Finland and its multiple effects on sex workers. We discuss also other aspects which are contributing to the segregation of the sex workers in Finland.
The main aim of the article is to create space for the voices of BIPoC (Black, Indigenous and People of Colour) sex workers coming from countries outside the European Union. Another goal of this text is to reflect together how racism and whiteness affect our experiences, so we could learn, grow and dismantle white supremacy together.
In the beginning of the text we will take a look at the legislation governing sex work and the segregation among sex workers in Finland. This is followed by reflections on the effects of the current legislation, racism and whiteness by BIPoC and white sex workers. We will finish with some ideas on how to move forward and change our cultures to be more inclusive, joyous, free and one that encourages solidarity. We will talk about how to make sex worker spaces and networks safer. These tips and questions can be applied outside the world of sex work.
As a content warning for the reader: we are going to discuss sensitive and traumatic experiences regarding systems of oppression like racism, colorism and stigmatization. We have focused on not using violent language or graphic descriptions.
The process behind this article has been a long one and full of learning and reflection. It has included giving and taking feedback and learning how to be humble, especially for the writers with white privileges. The project has been a huge process for everybody included and a healing one. We are so happy that we can share this process and outcomes with you.
2. A little bit about by whom and why this text was written
When the legislation concerning sex work in Finland is discussed the law governing migration is usually ignored. According to the Aliens Act, if a person without Finnish citizenship is even suspected of selling sexual services, it is possible to deport them from Finland.
One of the main reasons why Mustaselja was founded was to bring forth the issues of the Aliens Act and bridge the gap between the segregated realities of different sex workers in Finland. As an anti-authoritarian group we see that we have the possibility and the responsibility to start discussions about topics that are often ignored in the main conversations both in sex worker communities and outside them.
In order to actually to write this article, we formed a new refreshing formation consisting of members of Mustaselja Collective and BIPoC colleagues who remained anonymous to the Mustaselja members. In order to preserve the anonymity to guarantee the safety of the non-EU sex workers, our collaboration happened by having one contact person participating in both groups. We hope that one day through this process of learning, sharing and building trust we can unite as one collective.
The writing process began from the initiative of Mustaselja Collective and with this project Mustaselja wanted to reach out to colleagues and sex workers who are not from EU and who face systemic racism and oppression as a result of the Aliens Act, and to give opportunities for non-EU colleagues to form connections and a space where it is safe to speak and where their stories are taken seriously.
For the white sex workers, the project has required and offered space for carefully reflecting on their role in the writing process. We have wanted to prevent some of the usual practices of white European feminism where white people speak on behalf of the marginalized people, and the research on these power hierarchies is made from a predominantly white perspective.
Mustaselja is a predominantly white group and the writing process has been part of a long road of collectively unpacking white privilege. It has also been a process for Brown and other BIPoC to reflect how they carry the white supremacists systems and colorism. These systems affect everyone but the difference is that others are oppressors, often unknowingly, and others are oppressed. It is important that we name whiteness so the white and light skinned colleagues can reflect on how it affects their experiences as sex workers and as colleagues and comrades of BIPoC sex workers.
Dismantling racism and white supremacy is a journey we all make together, and through this text we hope to bring you along as well. We all start from different points with different understandings of how these systems affect all of us. Sometimes we need to catch up and sometimes we need to have the patience to wait for others to get where we are. The important things are that we treat each other with love, practice humility and support each other through the difficult parts. This is something we can learn best from our BIPoC friends.
We want to increase solidarity and support among all colleagues and make the gap of realities among different sex workers smaller.
We want to question the white norms about sex work – how the white perception about the realities of sex work too often totally lacks the understanding that many people experience the work very differently, even if we are working in the same country, what is the focus of sex work activism and what are considered as the most important things to be changed.
We demand changes in the law — but not only
The government is working on the Aliens Act and the law is going to undergo a comprehensive reform. We want to bring our voice to the discussion and we hope this article could also serve as a call to finally remove the racist section 148, subsection 6. This is not the first time such a demand has been made. Anna Kontula left a bill about reversing the deportation section in 2018, Finnish Ministry of Interior recommended the reversal in it’s report about human trafficing in 2023 and a collective of sex workers called Oikeus työhön (Right to work) included it as one of it’s demands in their citizen’s initiative in 2024.
But we are not only after changing the law — we also want to demolish the main problem behind the legislation: the historical and ongoing colonialism and racism. We don’t think that one text will change everything. Alongside writing we also focus on opening new perspectives and horizons practically. We want to combine writing and research with practical suggestions on how to challenge the dominance of whiteness and colorism in sex work communities (and in the general society) to, little by little, achieve a change in the world.
3. The current legislation and segregation
For Finnish citizens sex work is mostly decriminalized: both selling and buying sexual services are legal and there are only a few laws that restrict the trade. According to the Criminal Act and the Public Order Act it is forbidden to advertise and buy sexual services in public or from a person who is under 18 years old, to gain profit from the services sold by another individual, and to buy sexual services from a victim of trafficking.
This all changes if you don’t have a Finnish citizenship. According to the Aliens Act, section 148, subsection 6, sex work is effectively criminalized for non-citizens. If a person without Finnish citizenship is even suspected to sell any sexual services, there are grounds for denial of admittance or stay, ie. deportation. In addition to deportation, the future entry to the country can be denied for some years as well. A residence permit, including a permanent one, doesn’t prevent the deportation.
Though in the Aliens Act denial of admittance usually refers to deportation happening at the border when a person is entering Finland from a non-EU country, the police has deported people who are already in Finland. These deportations have happened during immigration raids and when police is enforcing public order, in private apartments, hotels, strip clubs and at massage parlors.
The law puts sex workers in Finland in grossly unequal positions when it comes to accessing help, negotiating prices, staying safe on the job and overall stability of life and it targets BIPoC people. As the law gives rights to deport people only based on suspicion, it is fertile ground for racism and acting according to racist stereotypes. BIPoC women and especially trans people may be more likely to be suspected of sex work than their white colleagues because of race dynamics and sexual stereotypes linked to race.
The legislation breeds segregation
The Aliens Act creates completely segregated worlds among sex workers depending on their migrant status, ethnicity and racialization. There is practically no interaction between the different sex worker scenes. For example the most visible sex worker organizations and main online forums consists largely of white Finnish speaking sex workers with only a few colleagues with a migrant status and of different racialization.
“I have attended many events organized by my colleagues and Pro Tukipiste (a Finnish support organization for sex workers) over these three years of doing sex work, but I think I never met other than white and Finnish speaking colleagues there”, tells one white and Finnish Mustaselja member. From the observations of many colleagues of all racializations and several ethnicities participating in this text we know that Pro Tukipiste works also with other than Finnish sex workers – they organize events and have a lot of outreach programs for BIPoC and non-EU sex workers. Despite this the networks in the field of commercial sex remain divided.
The media in Finland amplifies these divisions between the different groups through stereotypization. We are usually given only two images of sex workers: the white Finnish entrepreneurial, empowered, tax paying sex worker and the migrant who is a victim to pandering or human trafficking. We lack the images and imagination of a migrant sex worker as an active subject. The fact that the actual lives of non-EU sex workers are made to appear as surrealistically horrific, makes the lived traumas even worse by normalizing the violence and making the gap of segregation more extreme. For the white Finnish workers sex work is still stigmatized but it is seen more as work and less as a product of human trafficking.
This is not to say that the image of the Finnish white sex worker as a respectable worker and tax payer has been given without a fight, and this fight is also still ongoing. But the way most visible sex work activism is being done in Finland doesn’t do much to break the image of a migrant engaged in commercial sex only as a victim or a threat to public safety.
In addition the non-EU BIPoC sex workers, us writing this, suffer from exclusion from many safety networks in the sex work scene. We are people who are already marginalized by the predominantly white and privileged standards of this society, and are therefore excluded from the other everyday life safety and networking possibilities. Marginalization and systemic racism affect us in many sectors.
4. Some experiences of BIPoC sex workers from outside of EU of having to live and work with the law
This chapter is based on multiple oral discussions where different BIPoC sex workers share our experiences and how we view colorism and oppression in us and around us, and how the law affects us in the context of sex work. The chapter is a compilation of learning, traumas, journeys and paths that we try to share on paper together as the BIPoC participating in this writing project.
”As a racially ambiguous BIPoC sex worker I have a lot of trauma from how this law is affecting me and also how I see the law is affecting my BIPoC colleagues, some more than others like the Black and Thai communities, in the form of not being able to rent spaces, the treatment we receive, having to live in fear, being traumatized by deportation, having to face the violence of colorism and racism from all sides of the sex work community and the world.
But the worst for me is the violence I inflict on myself that makes me close off and prevents me from healing my wounds so I could be strong and dismantle the systems of white supremacy in the law and in every aspect of this life.
While I experience a lot of pain, my main goal is to create space where all of us, my BIPoC friends can get the space that we’ve been fighting for. Since I carry privileges I’m therefore capable of reproducing systems of oppression by being accepted in spaces where dynamics are based on white supremacy. Brown people see the many worlds of these dynamics. So the creation of spaces is a journey of learning about ourselves, healing with all BIPoC from the hurt of colorism that has been forced on us, and of becoming safe to one another.
A lot of the pain I experience is caused by the system of dehumanization of colorism caused by white supremacy. This system also affects BIPoC spaces through the exclusion of some of us. Many brown people might choose to forget and not to act by fitting in in white spaces through using white privilege.
Let’s not let this happen, there is not space in white spaces for us. White spaces are based on superiority and oppression and we can’t just fit in. So there is healing work that needs to be done with everybody in the spaces, by white people and BIPoC, through the creation of new spaces based on responsibility and humbleness.
This is the violence and the tiny space where this law allows me and many BIPoC people to exist. In contrast, what I mean by not existing is to not have the space to speak, work and be present in white spaces.
My sex work is not the violence itself. The violence is the racist patriarchal system that makes this violent reality to exist in the first place. I see sex work as a beautiful, joyful practice of sexuality with a lot of history and ancestry.
The narrative of this Finnish law is trying to silence my perception of sexual work and present it as something dirty and somewhat empty. Sometimes is not easy to cope with this legislation, sure.
In sex work you can see the representations of racist segregation that exists in other sectors of the society. So even if the creation of safe spaces is a difficult path, but it comes with the rewards of abundant freedom and the joy of existing without oppressive structures, for that we need all the reforms and spaces to fight and just be in.
I feel the effects of the law in the way I trust people, how I speak, how I manage my feelings and how I bring them forward. There is violence I experience physically, verbally and psychologically from clients, colleagues, doctors, my friends or the society. And when I see my friends’ faces, I know I am experiencing only a little bit of the reality that many of my BIPoC friends experience.
Since I am racially ambiguous, I carry many white privileges. I can enter white spaces if others perceive me as white and Finnish enough. But if I’m not perceived so in these spaces, I can be a threat and thus I can be thrown away, when my brown me is not useful anymore.
Also I can enter some brown spaces if I adapt to the dynamics of colorism and anti-blackness. In PoC spaces it can be sometimes unsafe, do to the trauma work because of the history we have in BIPoC dynamics. Therefore there are not many places for me where to exist and if that is the case for me how about my other BIPoC colleagues?
So I love to do my best, to love myself so I can be safer to me and therefore for my PoC and BIPoC friends. I love to learn humbly from critique and I don’t want to freeze while learning from my unconscious bias, defenses and traumas, our histories and our experiences. To learn together and enjoy the beautiful wisdoms that melanin brings us.
The law affects how people see me and us; how they think I could be less capable or not good enough, or see us as a second option when a white Finnish sex worker is not available.. The question is, if I’m the second option, who is the third? Where are my friends’ voices and their beauty? Why is there a division in classes based on race?
This triggers and motivates me to heal all parts of myself that have been traumatized so that I can speak strongly to all BIPoC people to deconstruct colorism together and to white people to start deconstructing white supremacy.
To love life, is loving myself and my roots. My brownness, my roots. Not just remembering the pain and shame of colonisation and objectifying pain and abuse.
I see as my responsibility to break anti-blackness and abolish these dynamics in myself and in the spaces I live in and enter. To heal that trauma and to free the spaces, to share information that is kept away from us BIPoC people, with my BIPoC friends.
Even though the law tries to stop me from dreaming and enjoying life, I still dream of creating spaces where BIPoC people could laugh, enjoy, sorrow, etc. with ourselves, together. To be vulnerable. I will not spend my life sad and tired even if the whiteness tries to lay that simplified identity on me. Let’s embrace the beauty of our patience and joys that we as BIPoC people have. Let’s embrace our bodies and stories.”
5. Reflections on whiteness by white sex workers
This chapter consists of two texts, written by two white and Finnish Mustaselja members. In this part white people reflect on their whiteness in the context of the sex work scene – people with white privilege doing the labor of analyzing, learning and naming whiteness. The texts were written with some very valuable help and humble guidance from BIPoC colleagues. <3
Whiteness gives me the permission to do mistakes when entering a new sex work market abroad
“Understanding the fact that I engage in racist behaviors and learning to take feedback and implement it was a rocky path full of feelings of shame and guilt, but I now look at my life with a newfound curiosity. Learning to analyze my whiteness was not easy and I’m immensely grateful for the help I got on the way, most in the form of feedback and gentle pushes from BIPoC.
My most recent realization came when I understood how I had utilized whiteness in my marketing. The idea of natural beauty, cleanliness and innocence are associated with whiteness, and me in very little make up and yoga pants in a nice apartment was not only marketing my middle classness but my whiteness as well.
Whiteness is seen as valuable and it enables me to charge higher prices, both in Finland and abroad. It also makes it possible to fly under the radar as a sex worker. I’m less likely to be suspected as a sex worker as my BIPoC or Russian speaking colleagues would be. Even if my neighbours would suspect something, they are less likely to report me to either to the police or to my landlord, as I’m not perceived as a migrant and thus as a threat to the public safety.
The same goes when I’m crossing borders. A bag full of dildos is most likely only going cause some embarrassment for the family behind me in the security check line, not an interrogation with the border officials.
Many of my privileges come from having the citizenship of the state I’m working in, but my whiteness and Finnish passport also follow me abroad. Entering a new market in a new legislation is always a learning process – which means making plenty of mistakes. My nationality and whiteness mean that I face very minimal or no consequences for those mistakes.
For a person whose life is more or less always a bit of a mess full of rather incredible misshaps, the ability to make mistakes is crucial. It feels so wrong and so scary that someone else is getting punished harshly for being human.
The safety that is given to me by white supremacist structures makes it possible for me to live a relatively stress free life. Obviously working in a new apartment or crossing borders and entering a new legislation with different kind of policing have felt stressful, but when I look back to my experiences it is easy to see that the actual threat has been rather minimal.
The fact that I can keep my stress levels manageable and if needed, take a break to recuperate, is reflected in my mental and physical health.”
We need to develop and practice collective tools for dismantling whiteness
“Whatever I do, my whiteness in this white supremacist culture grants me a very palpable safety passport and a set of keys to the doors of almost any possibility. But it took me a long time to realize that. For the majority of my life whiteness was so normal I didn’t see it – and I didn’t search it out. I knew that racism existed and that I had a lot of privileges, but my active entanglement and cultivation of white supremacy and racist hierarchies was something I just completely overlooked.
Maybe the first time I started to finally learn more about my whiteness was when I got involved in the solidarity work with the revolution movement of Rojava around 2019. It is notable that a lot of my development happened through feedback which I got from the Kurdish comrades.
I started to want to learn basics about whiteness and process my role within it more, and Layla F. Saad’s work book Me and white supremacy helped me a lot in that.
Probably the third remarkable place where I have deepened my understanding about my enforcement of whiteness is within the context of Mustaselja, especially participating in the writing process of this text.
Sometimes when I think about my whiteness, I might feel like I am swallowed by it, and I am nothing but it, like it would almost define my existence overwhelmingly. But as a white person I am allowed to be so much else than only my race – an anarchist, a sex worker, a friend, etc., compared to a white anarchist, a white sex worker, a white friend. It is actually very rare that somebody would define me as “white”, unlike my BIPoC friends and comrades.
So what is it that’s making me feeling overwhelmed then, when thinking about my whiteness? They are the feelings of white fragility and white guilt, and maybe also the feelings of being racialized. It can make me feel scared, ashamed, consumed, sad, guilty and angry, because I probably was never racialized before.
I think dismantling white supremacy is a lot about emotional work. When I notice I am feeling difficult feelings I try to allow myself to actually feel them. I try to do it when I am alone or with other white people so I wouldn’t burden BIPoC with additional emotional labor. By feeling them fully in my body and reflecting them I hope to get past them slowly, to cultivate them in order to change them from defences and fears to actions and love.
Then there are the sneaky companions, maybe even worse than the difficult feelings – the white apathy and the white silence. They are my untruthful ways to escape uncomfortable feelings, as my white fragility tries to seduce me to look away from the raw truths.
Sometimes my actions backfire, if I try too much. If I have been hiding my feelings and been inactive for a long time I might try to do some kind of effort to “compensate” my silence. But often with those kinds of motivations I end up just making a number of myself.
My privileged position in these racial structures enables me to close my eyes from the way white supremacy affects all our lives. And the white supremacist culture doesn’t even punish me in any way if I do. Luckily I have some comrades who give me feedback if I slack. But we should give each other feedback amongst us white people much more, to even start cracking the white solidarity. Dismantling whiteness is a task for all white people collectively, so we need to develop and practice collective tools and habits for doing it.
There are practical ways I benefit of my whiteness and Finnishness in doing sex work as well. For example I have had access to many (white) collegial networking possibilities throughout my career. Especially in the beginning of my career and before Mustaselja existed I was happy that there were so many spaces both online and face-to-face, where I was able to talk about the everyday things about our job – the mundane as well as the big news –, ask for help or tips, and just feel that I am not alone, even though I almost always do my actual work alone.
I noticed the bold racial and nationality-based segregation in these collegial spaces very soon, and it left me first quite surprised and curious, and then sad and angry. Where is everybody else but the Finnish speaking white sex workers? Why it isn’t more common among the people who do “sex work activism” in Finland to talk about the rights of the foreign and/or BIPoC sex workers?
It was easy to point at others for the segregation. It took me a while to realize I am also enforcing it, not to mention, it took even a longer while to start doing anything about it.
While writing this text and with the help of many discussions with dear BIPoC friends I have realized that I want to dismantle white supremacy also because of me. White supremacy gives me privileges but it also encapsulates me – it disconnects me from other people, from the living environment, from my feelings, from my history and roots.
I want to continue poking holes to the comfortable, disconnected shell of white supremacy. It always makes me a bit scared but I want to see the connections which could be possibe in another kind of world. And the fact that I notice being scared just makes me sure that I am on the right track.”
6. What can one do about segregation? Some thoughts on liberation
We would like to finish this text with some thoughts about future. We want to build and cultivate a change from racist and segregated culture to an inclusive, joyous, solidary and free culture. We have gathered some insights, suggestions, questions and reflections on what could be done, asked and considered. They are for all of us collectively, regardless of our race, to change ourselves now.
It is good to remember that passivity means taking a stance for the current circumstances, so let’s start doing things together. <3
For sex workers and allies who are white or have white privilege
In this chapter we especially talk from the point of view of and for white people and any other people who have some white privileges, for example light-skinned People of Color. White supremacy affects everybody, but it does it in different ways. We don’t want to preach or tell anybody what to do, and this is a text for ourselves as well, to acknowledge, remember and get inspired about. Even if just a few of the readers of this text decide on acting, it will make it a bit easier for the marginalized among us to breathe in our spaces.
In order to challenge and deconstruct white privilege, we who have it need to try our best to do something about it – to give space, to lift others, to learn about whiteness and about the struggles of BIPoC comrades and sex workers, to work with our privileges, and to get out from our comfortable, ignorant zone of whiteness. It is necessary to encounter and challenge white supremacy in every event we organize, in every collective or chat we create or participate, every day and at every decision.
Our silence is loud
In addition to talking about what kind of actions we might take, dismantling white supremacy requires us to examine the ways we are not taking action, our white silence.
White silence means all the different ways of not acting against racism. It is active violence in a form of ignorance, even if some (usually white) people still think it as something “neutral”. We need to stop telling ourselves excuses for not acting, whether it is busyness, repression, neurodivergency, shyness, or even the fact that last year we attended an antirasist workshop and we “already feel that we’ve done our part”. The job is never done, and all those other excuses affect the lives of BIPoC.
Deconstructing whiteness requires that we, either as white people, don’t wait for BIPoC to do the work for us, or as lighter skinned BIPoC, don’t wait for Black comrades to do it for us.
White spaces are safe for white people
To be able to challenge white supremacy in us and around us, we as white sex workers and our comrades in white anarchist, feminist, environmental and queer spaces, need to make our spaces safer, our very selves safer. We don’t want to continue to be the gatekeepers – conscious or not – of all the networks and spaces from the BIPoC and non-EU sex worker community.
The more comfortable a space is for white people, the more likely it is to be harmful to BIPoC – even if the space consists of white people who consider themselves as “antiracist”, “anarchist” or even just otherwise “progressive” or “good” people. The communities which don’t actively acknowledge whiteness will automatically reproduce white supremacy, because whiteness hasn’t been dismantled consciously. And this in turn makes a space less safe for BIPoC. What kind of thoughts does this evoke?
We need to let go of whiteness as the norm of how we act and think. We need to work, both individually and collectively, to be safer colleagues, comrades and friends, so that we can be trustworthy and so that we can share abundantly the things we have access to.
Practical questions for different situations
Let’s think about how our own actions contribute to the segregation of our BIPoC colleagues, friends and comrades. Let’s think about practical things, as well as history, norms and expectations. If we want something to happen we need to act on it ourselves. Good intentions are not enough.
When creating or participating some kind of space, server, discussion or event, let’s try to reflect how welcoming the space is. In what language is the discussion happening and in what language was the invitation? How comfortable do we feel in different spaces?
Let’s analyse the group dynamics in our collectives and friend circles. Who are the ones that do the hard work and the communication, does everybody participate equally? After finding the answers, think about why is that. Is somebody expected to do something without even asking? How would this feel to you if you were in that role?
Do we have any non-Finnish or non-EU colleagues (or comrades)? Are we reaching out to some? If yes, why and how? If not, why we haven’t done it in the past, why we are not doing it now? Let’s study our answers honestly.
If yes, are we doing it for our egos? Or are we actually interested in meeting the person and for them to meet us? Is it the right time, the right way?
Analysis in general about whom we feel collegiality with, and who we meet frequently in our everyday life, can help us to open up our reality and start finding possibilities for a change in us and in our spaces.
Let’s think about how to contribute to the situations of our friends, colleagues and comrades and how we could support the ones who are affected by the Aliens Act Law. Are there some practical ways of support that I could offer or can we even come up with some support systems together?
What about our clients? What ethnicities and races our clients are? It seems that often white Finnish sex workers have mostly white and Finnish clients, and Brown sex workers have clients from a wide range of ethnicities and races. Maybe the clients from other races don’t feel safe or welcome to visit the white sex workers? Why is that and is there something in our advertisements we as white people could change?
Good security culture builds better trust
If we want to be safe colleagues or friends to sex workers who have to work illegally in Finland, we might need to review our conceptions of trust and security. What kind of messages, contacts and information we have on our phone, and could it be a risk of deportation for somebody if the phone gets to the hands of the cops or other legal and immigration authorities?
What do we speak about in public spaces and whose names we mention? Even if we don’t mention the context, a right person might be able to guess the rest.
A close look on our security culture, both personally and in spaces such as events and online servers, is important so we can be as trustworthy and safe as possible.
Making mistakes and getting critique are the blissful medicines – they might taste bitter first but they heal you
One important skill in the antiracist struggle is the willingness to receive criticism and grow with it. In the white supremacist culture making mistakes is not encouraged, and giving and receiving critique are something to avoid. We would like to develop a different culture, where critique serves as a gift for the trusted friend and as a fertilizer for the community to grow.
If we get criticised, let’s take it and let’s not feel attacked, get angry or freeze in defensive silence. Let’s practice hearing the words of the other person and validate them. If we get criticism from BIPoC, they have already worked hard to be able to give it, so let’s not make it more laboursome for them with our defensive reaction.
While writing this text we made many mistakes and gave each other a lot of critique. We gave the critiques with love and trust so the process felt safe and fruitful.
One topic of critique while doing this article was that it is important not to speak with other than your own voice. Or that if we share someone else’s words, we should tell where these words came from. We cannot own others, their thoughts or their experiences. This is something that the white and Finnish writers accidentally first did with this text, until feedback was given and the writers realized what they had done.
The writers in question had genuinely thought they were doing a good job when bringing forth all kinds of unfair experiences and comparing their experiences as white sex workers to colleagues with non-EU citizenship. They where not their stories to tell and by doing so, they actually ended up just othering and dismissing our BIPoC colleagues.
It was not only the white writers who made mistakes during this process. A mistake some of the BIPoC writers made was being afraid and not trusting the capabilities of the writers with white privileges.
Let’s be vulnerable in this fight – and let’s do it together
Let’s reach out to other people with white privilege. We are not alone. It is our responsibility to challenge ourself and our friends, colleagues and comrades, ask for support from them and start uncomfortable discussions. Let’s ask questions from each other, give feedback and educate ourselves and each other together.
At the same time, let’s be careful not to form an echo chamber where we just pat each other’s backs without actually challenging white supremacy.
Let’s be vulnerable and allow ourselves to feel the feelings. Big part of the work is recognizing our feelings and taking the feelings of others into account. Let’s allow ourselves also to rest from time to time – if we get burnt out we will exclude ourselves from the struggle for a far longer time in comparison to the time spent on resting.
It is important to see the antiracist struggle as a common struggle and not something only BIPoC fight for, to see the common goal so that we could one day hang out and work together without unwanted pain, in a tiny piece of world free from white surpremacy. Everybody benefits of the abolition of white supremacy.
As we learned while writing this text, making mistakes and learning how to cope with them is a necessary part of the work. Let’s take this fight, these mistakes and teachings into our everyday life and to all of our activism.
For sex workers and allies who are Brown and other People of Color
Since we are speaking about white supremacy and systems built on it, we need to speak about colorism and anti-blackness as well: how they are formed, how they affect people and how they can be deconstructed.
Colorism is the practice of favoring lighter skin over darker skin. The preference for lighter skin can be seen within any racial or ethnic background. It has its roots in racism because, without racism, someone’s value and perceived superiority wouldn’t be based on the color of their skin.
We can ask ourselves, are we stuck in colorism? How we see colorism and how do we break it? Are we ashamed of ourselves? Why? Are we embracing ourselves? Are there Black or Indigenous people in BIPoC spaces? Why or why not?
Bring these questions and answers to the attention of others, and analyse and change the dynamics together. Name the problems you are going through and speak them out by yourself or with other people that want to deconstruct similar behaviours. Don’t stop deconstructing and more importantly don’t whiten yourself, since this upholds colorism.
Deconstruct the dynamics of anti-blackness in spaces in general. Be vulnerable, both to yourself and to others. Humility will take you far. This is spoken from experience and not from outside. Be kind to yourself and recognize that it is not easy. Embrace the beauty of our patience and joys that we as BIPoC people have.
Stop and pay attention to the impact of microassaults and aggressions. Don’t reproduce the white supremacists mindset through guilt as this easily centers you and your feelings.
It hurts a lot to realize all the pain that you as a Person of Color have reproduced to BIPoC around you. But don’t freeze and close yourself off. Read on your own history and the history of colorism. Deconstructing that trauma is not easy, but it is your responsibility. You are doing it for your own healing and to not to hurt others targeted by colorism.
Take care of yourself, your beautiful curves and melanin are there as beautiful as life can be. Love yourself and don’t force oppressive dynamics on you as you don’t want to set upon others. It’s time to free oneself to be true. And remember – we are not a minority, we are a majority.
The last words for everybody
Despite of violence, let’s remember our history, our beauty and our strength to heal and create together, and let’s not focus on the graphical violence and pain. Instead let’s try to use this pain for growing and becoming stronger as sex workers, healers, teachers, friends, lovers and comrades, so we can enjoy the gifts of our wisdom together.
Anyone can get lost in pitfalls of the colonialism. This is why we have to unite, grow together and take care so nobody gets lost on the way. In the end we are all going to the same destination. We just need to remember it.
Let’s not live in the shadows, but instead in communities and spaces for all. Let’s create spaces and networks with those who currently don’t have the access to enjoy all of these meetings, forums and discussions.
We all have the memory of our shared humanity that some of us have chosen to forget. We need to do to the work to heal from that neglect. So we can see the beauty and humbleness in all of us. So the spaces wouldn’t be separated and we could come together.