U.S. Anti-prostitution pledge

On June 20, 2013, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled the anti-prostitution pledge policy, a provision requiring U.S. organizations to denounce prostitution as a condition for receiving funds to fight HIV/AIDS globally, unconstitutional.  It was a major victory in terms of promoting the rights of sex workers, and allowing HIV prevention to be funded on a wider scale.

Organizations like SANGRAM, though, have been fighting against this policy for years, and even turned down 11 laks (roughly equivalent to $20,000) in funding from USAID because they did not want to be held to this policy, and did not want to be controlled in this way. SANGRAM believes in working to strengthen communities to fight against HIV/AIDS. One op-ed was published by Meena Seshu, the Secretary General of SANGRAM, in 2005 saying that SANGRAM was not going to listen to the U.S. government’s pledge, and would break the contract and return the money they had been given, out of principle. SANGRAM did this not because they believed so strongly in the first amendment, but because SANGRAM was a sex workers collective, and felt that this was an unnecessary burden on the people who were tirelessly fighting to prevent the spread of HIV.

Back in 2005, after the anti-prostitution pledge was passed, a letter was written by Mark Souder, a U.S. Congressman presenting a seemingly straightforward and logical argument—that the US should not fund organizations abroad that promote the trafficking of children and prostitution. The problem with this, though, is that he did not get his facts right, in that he mentioned SANGRAM as a trafficking organization because SANGRAM did not sign the anti-prostitution pledge. As a result, VAMP members were working for a year without pay, but continued to do HIV prevention work for the sake of saving lives.

With the exception of the fact that Souder mentioned SANGRAM as a trafficking organization, I found the rest of the letter fairly logical and making sense. However, I realized that I have socialized to believe that trafficking is wrong (which I still believe), that prostitution is wrong (which I now do not believe), and therefore any policy that aimed to prevent trafficking and prostitution was right and good. However, I was reminded by boss that it’s not right that policymakers in the U.S. can decide that SANGRAM is a trafficking organization without even sending a single email or making a single call to the NGO to figure out what it really does. It does not make sense that U.S. policy makers in Washington could decide what was right and wrong for a sex worker in Sangli, when they don’t know their background and don’t understand what sex workers want. It does not make sense that the US expected SANGRAM to change their policy because they did not understand the difference between prostitution and sex trafficking.

So, while Mark Sounder’s intentions were probably good, the fact that he did not do proper research about what he was advocating for is extremely problematic. But, it’s good that the Supreme Court in this instance did not listen to the Mark Souders of the world, and instead chose to open their minds and choose what was right over what sounds logical.

From the Grounds Up

As an American, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the role of the U.S. within the context of international development. How can we best help abroad? What is the best approach for us to take? Should we even be involving ourselves abroad, when there are so many domestic issues to tackle? Even though I’m still early in my career, I’ve been exposed to various organizations within the international development world, and can say wholeheartedly that the SANGRAM approach towards development, HIV prevention, and fighting for the human rights of marginalized communities is truly unique, and is one from which much can be learned and followed.

My personal experience working in the field of international development began my freshman year of college, when I was working as a research assistant for a professor tracking international aid. It continued when I went to Honduras that following summer to help build a water sanitation system for a disaster-stricken community. It furthered when I went to El Salvador, and traveled to orphanages and nutrition centers, learning that despite the good intentions, charities and handouts do no provide sustainable solutions to poverty.

The following year, I work at a USAID consulting firm where I spoke to many people about the large-budgeted projects, yet the tendency for many to fall through after the contractors left the country. Following that, I experienced the policy side of development through working at think tank in Washington, DC. This past summer, I saw the benefits of a grassroots approach in Guatemala, connecting local artisan crafts to the global market, and was so impressed with the work being done there. 

Still, I continue to be inspired by the approach that SANGRAM takes here in Sangli, India. The small-scale and focused projects working from the grounds-up, I believe, ultimately have such a powerful effect and provide long-term sustainability.

I had a conversation about this exact topic a few weeks back with my SANGRAM boss over breakfast. I was particularly struck when she admitted that at this point in time, with the exception of a few things, she herself was no longer critical to this organization. Rather, it can essentially run itself, and it is totally community-based. The sex workers of VAMP and MUSKAN are collectivized, and she said the reason for this was because they’ve had the time to properly do so. SANGRAM does not rush to meet contract deadlines and fulfill indicators—but rather slowly but thoroughly develop. This has been a critical lesson for me—this idea that the fight for human rights and social justice, for sustainable development, takes time, and needs to be truly from the grounds up in order to be effective and long-lasting.

SANGRAM takes a rights-based approach, meaning that it focuses development of human rights in addition to economic factors, and aims to empower the rights-holders. And I see the rights-based approach in every way here:

• ·      By involving all sex workers in discussions and presentations, not just one articulate spokesman, when guests come to visit SANGRAM and VAMP
• ·      By actually listening to what sex workers themselves want, which is not necessarily rehabilitation, but access to rights and prevention of abuse
• ·      By working to improve existing government hospitals and practices, instead of simply building new ones
• ·      By having sex workers themselves collaborating to write a survey in a non-invasive way
• ·      By having the sex-workers collective fight anti-trafficking instead of raiding the communities for people being trafficked (causing the communities more harm and abuse than good)
• ·      By not promoting mandatory HIV testing, but rather creating awareness for those who are willing to do the test, keeping all their records confidential, and providing a positive (as opposed to stigmatized) environment by which testing can take place

I’ve learned that these things can’t happen over a period of a few months, or even a few years. They take many years, and much patience, persistence, and dedication. They involve constant engagement with community members and policymakers. They involve going against the norm if they believe what they are doing is right, even if it makes them unpopular. They involve doing more listening than speaking, and understanding that development is not just about indicators or statistics or projections or growth—but about human lives. These have been critical lessons to learn over my seven months with this NGO, and I know I will carry them with me for the rest of my career.  

Too many vs. too few choices

On a recent episode of the sitcom, “Girls,” a main character, Marney, brings up a dilemma common to the modern western woman. During an emotional breakdown, she says, ““Sometimes I just wish that someone would tell me, this is how you should spend your days, and this is how the rest of your life should look.”

Watching this episode from Sangli, surrounded by women who often have so few choices, I was intrigued by this idea of a young woman complaining for having too many choices and wanting someone to tell her what to do. After centuries of struggle for women’s rights, for the choice to do things like marry whom we want, cast our vote, and work wherever we’d like, why are women like Marney expressing such sentiments? The truth is, even though we sometimes feel silly for it, today, many of us Western women struggle with having too many choices.

Living as a woman in Sangli, I often compare my life with that of other women here. The fact that I live on my own as a 22-year old woman (unmarried), go to the market and buy everything on my own, and go to work during the day is relatively rare in this town. It was only recently that another neighbor, who is 25, went for the first time with her husband out to the market. Most of the women in my neighborhood have received some education, but their parents chose their husbands, and they are expected to treat their husbands and children in a certain way. Even the women in my office note that before they come to the office, they have to spend hours in the morning cooking a hot breakfast and a full tiffin lunch for their husband and kids.

So, when I watch Marny on Girls complain about having too many choices as a young professional in New York City, it doesn’t immediately make me sympathize for her.

           

Yet, to be honest, as much of a feminist and women’s rights advocate as I am, I too sometimes think about how it would be easier to have someone tell me what to do, and whom to be with. I would save the time and energy spent figuring out “what I want to do with my life” for sure, and the emotional trauma and confusion of relationships. Sometimes, in my most hopeless moments, I think it would be nice if I could predict the future, if I knew where I would be in 5 or 10 years, who I’d be with, and not have to have my grandmother’s voice in the back of my head as I’m working in the developing world, saying, “you’re not going to meet any future husbands there.”

But then, I think about the moments of realization in a job after months of struggle; about falling in love, and the moments where you feel you’re on top of the world after years of heartbreaks or failed relationships; about the times where you sort of figure of what you want and like and support, and feel good about your choice. I realize that we need to have these dilemmas as young women, the abundant options to chose from, because even though it may be overwhelming and scary, too many choices is always better than the opposite.

Realizing this does not make me pity the woman in my neighborhood whose marriages are arranged, or who are not able to work because their husbands don’t want them to, or who have no say in financial matters of their own household. But it does make me want to continue working toward gender equality worldwide, and to fight to at least make these choices available to all women.

           

Empowerment

Working in small-town India these past six months, I’ve been thinking a lot about empowerment. What does it mean for someone be empowered? At what point has a woman reached “empowerment”? Working for an NGO that focuses on sex workers’ rights these past six months, I’ve realized that the idea of empowerment is much more complex than I originally thought.

            Growing up, I received some of the best educational opportunities the U.S. has to offer. Since graduating, I have chosen a career path that was my choice completely. And when I decide to marry, if ever, that will be completely my choice as well. All of these choices are standard markings of an “empowered woman” in the 21^st century.

            Now, let’s take the stereotypical notions of sex workers—poorly educated; whores of society; passive victims of male aggression. None of these descriptions correlate with the idea of being an empowered woman. However, through working with a collective of sex workers called VAMP and living in this town of Sangli, I’ve learned that the story is much more complicated. The women of VAMP are strong; they are brave; they are fighters. They stand together and shout out “sex work is work!” during team building type exercises. They often times did come from pasts marked by few educational opportunities and poverty, yet they are striving for a better livelihood for themselves and their families. In the U.S., we pride ourselves on being a country where the “American dream” is attainable for all—the idea that through hard work, you can raise your socioeconomic status. Sex workers are fighting for this exact idea of working hard to improve their lives and move up in a hierarchical society.

            To be fair, I’m not trying to idealize sex workers’ lives and conditions in any way. Sex workers are one of the most stigmatized and abused groups in Indian society, having to bear the brunt of police violence, condemnation, and a lack of access to education, health care, and government benefits. But through collectivization, they are more adequately able to fight against these abuses and for the human rights they deserve.

It’s commonly thought that these women were forced to be doing sex work and are helpless, when in fact according to the PAN India Survey on Sex Workers, 73% of female sex workers entered this work on their own. They are able to make their own income, support themselves, send their children to school, pay their bills, and sometimes afford extra luxuries such as gold earrings or silver bracelets.

When I talk about my work with friends and family in the U.S., they are often confused with the idea of my NGO working to improve sex workers’ current situations, as opposed to saving them from their work. It is more morally acceptable to be “helping” sex workers by “freeing” them from their horrific experiences, and encouraging them to take up jobs in other sectors of society. As I tell them, though, many of these women do not want to change their careers. They’ve worked before as maids, as daily wage earners, tailors, and cooks; but in these jobs, they were often sexually or physically abused, or paid below a living wage. Society tells us that we can “empower” these women by saving them from this work, whereas I’ve learned empowerment is helping improve the conditions of sex work, making it safer and allowing sex workers to be free from abuse and eligible for government benefits like any other Indian citizen.

A main focus of my career goal includes women’s empowerment. As I’m learning, though, there is no one definition of empowerment. I consider myself, as being educated, working, and free from abuse, an empowered woman. Yet I now also consider a sex worker who is working for a fair wage, living in safe conditions, supporting her family and building a life for herself, as also being empowered. It’s through efforts on the part of collectives like VAMP and NGOs like SANGRAM that strive to make this a reality, and I’m lucky to get to be a part of it.