|
The appalling
murders of five women in Ipswich at the end of 2006 brought to the public's
attention the tragic and often dangerous world that street sex workers
inhabit.
Red Light Danger
By (pictured right)
Few people give much thought to the women who stand on street corners
nightly across Britain, selling the only thing they have left of any value
- their bodies, until headlines in a newspaper shout, 'PROSTITUTE FOUND
MURDERED'. The overwhelming majority of street sex workers sell sex purely
and simply to earn money to buy drugs. They don't want to burgle houses,
steal from their families, mug 'old ladies' or commit other crimes to
pay for their addictions. They choose to risk their lives instead of their
liberty, by selling sex to unknown men, to buy a bag and a rock. Such
women are judged, dehumanised, vilified and scorned by a society that
tells them they do not count. We forget that these women are someone's
granddaughter, daughter, mother, sister or aunt - we forget they are human.
It is easy to judge and condemn without knowing about the journeys that
led such women to addiction and the streets. Maybe if people knew, they
would show a little more understanding, a little more compassion and humanity
towards some of the most vulnerable women in our society.
In 1987, I developed and worked on one of the very first outreach projects
in Britain aimed at reducing drug-related harm and preventing the spread
of HIV amongst Liverpool sex workers. In the five years I worked with
the women I came to know them well. For me, my involvement with the women,
which has continued long after my leaving the project, taught me that
they are survivors in a cruel world. That they are women who need to be
protected not judged. It also taught me that the right support, for example,
someone reaching out to help them, gave many the chance to escape the
life of drugs and prostitution.
The project had evolved from other radical, pioneering services that
had been initiated the previous year in Liverpool. In the mid 80s, the
emergence of HIV and AIDS as a major health concern forced us to reconsider
a number of assumptions about the society we lived in. Moral concerns
had to be put aside and a more pragmatic approach taken if we were to
prevent the spread of an incurable virus into our communities.
In October 1986 the Mersey Regional Drugs Training and Information Centre
initiated one of the first needle and syringe exchange schemes in Britain,
in an attempt to prevent the spread of HIV infection through the sharing
of used needles and syringes by local drug users. Whilst local politicians
played on community fears and called on even more draconian measures to
punish individual drug users, health workers were attempting to address
the issues of drug use from a much broader public health perspective.
In hindsight, the 'radical' or 'controversial' nature of this approach,
which has since been adopted worldwide, still seems exactly what it was
to us at the time - common sense.
As well as providing the women with condoms and clean injecting equipment,
the project soon developed into dealing with all aspects of the women's
lives. For some, a methadone prescription meant they no longer had to
work, for others their circumstances were more complex and required a
lot more support. Housing was as major an issue then as it is now and
many of the women were homeless, pitifully relying on the 'goodwill' of
men who could provide a roof over their heads in return for sexual favours
or drugs.
Whilst our local paper, the Liverpool Echo, reported that I had the
most dangerous job in Britain, in reality I was supporting some of the
most vulnerable women in the city, often still only girls, who were alone,
frightened and on the streets because they used drugs. This was not a
'lifestyle' choice: it was born from an overwhelming need to obtain drugs,
forcing women to commit the most desperate of acts under the most desperate
of circumstances. I had never at any time felt in danger while working
on the project, but I was to quickly learn how dangerous it was for the
women, as reports of rapes, physical attacks, kidnaps and abuse became
the norm. The murder of Lynda Donaldson a year after the project started
confirmed for me just how dangerous it was. However, by getting women
into drug treatment, helping them with their benefits and housing, as
well as looking after their general health needs and advocating on their
behalf, showed us that some were indeed able to escape and make positive
changes to their lives.
As policy makers and politicians continue to attempt to tackle the issues
of drugs and prostitution in our society, more draconian measures to tackle
the problems are still called for. Some people demand that such women
be punished for their activities, served with ASBOs and driven further
into the shadows. But this would place them in even more danger. Does
it not make better sense to make contact with these women, to try to support
them in making changes to their lives, rather than continue to force them
even further into the margins of society, where they can fall victim to
psychopaths who will take their lives and cast aside their bodies like
a piece of old rubbish?
Twenty years on, I can see little that has changed. Heroin and crack cocaine
use continue to rise and decimate communities across Britain, bringing
with them an increase in gun crime and gang wars, teenagers being shot
dead and innocent lives lost. More and more women are driven to sell their
bodies in their desperation to earn money for drugs - and in doing so
continue to risk their lives. Until we begin to understand that street
sex workers are human beings and not merely 'prostitutes', women will
sadly continue to be murdered.
Comment left by neil whelan on 17th May, 2007 at 0:11 Gosh Lynn your lookin old, it must be 13 years. Hope your well. x Comment left by kenny on 18th March, 2009 at 12:29 hi lyn must be over 20yrs i lived in faulkner st with m.k. not seen her for years now Comment left by Shona on 12th April, 2010 at 16:02 About to start some similar work Lynn, anyway of making contact with yourself?
|