It’s been a while since I blogged. So I thought I’d do a quick update to catch you up on the goings-on in my life.
First, I Heart Sex Workers: A Christian Response to People in the Sex Trade has hit the virtual bookshelves. You can find it at Chalice Press or Amazon. And while I thought it might create a little shitstorm, no such thing has happened. Leaving me both relieved and a little disappointed! No, really, I’m pleased with the book and would love to hear your thoughts.
Second, I’ve begun a new job at Friends of Guest House in Northern Virginia. We’re a residential transitional facility for women exiting the corrections system in Virginia. As of today, we serve nine women at a time, providing case management, job and life skill improvement, and helping the women find jobs, mental health support, addiction communities, and helping them transition back into their families and lives.
Last summer, I participated in a gathering called Healing and Rebuilding Our Communities (HROC), which was my first foray into understanding trauma and its impact on my own life and the lives of others. My experience with HROC impelled me to look for ways to heal. So I’ve been meeting with a Cranio Sacral Massage practitioner, which has really facilitated a lot of healing.
Through these practices, and through educational experiences at my new job, I’m gathering a small understanding of the impact of trauma in our lives. Which has impacted significantly my understanding of our correctional system, and the people who are there.
I’m now going to return to blogging. And while I still have a great interest in sex workers, and the things going on in the activist communities, I’m also going to be posting here about issues related to women, trauma, and our corrections system.
I’ve long looked at the work of accompaniment (that’s walking alongside people as they go through crises and change) I’ve done with sex workers as “pulling bodies from the river.” The forces that impact their lives are so great, so systemic, and so ingrained, that they are drowning. For some, I’ve reached out a hand, for others, I’ve jumped in the river with them, floating alongside. But writing, helps me go to the top of the river, to scream at the top of my lungs, “Stop throwing bodies in the river!” I hope you’ll join me.