As I write this article, I want to make it known that the sex industry is not always positive for women and girls. According to the U.S. National Library of Medicine, sex workers around the world have a 45 to 75 percent chance of experiencing violence during their careers.
When sex workers do experience violence, they are not protected by rape shield laws and are not eligible for compensation funds.
Many see sex workers as objects, non-human, and second-rate members of society. This makes sex workers even more prone to being victims of violence.
Women are forced into sex work without their consent, others are forced into sex work because of financial situations, and some choose sex work as their profession.
Like most Americans, the Black Lives Matter movement was introduced to me through social media. My Instagram and Facebook feeds were flooded with images, videos, and hashtags condemning the unjust shootings of innocent black men and women by law enforcement. I was onboard with its message immediately. However, the movement also left some people confused and alienated. For some, its online presence was overwhelming and not something they wanted to affiliate themselves with.
So what really is “Black Lives Matter” and how did it start? For those who are afraid to ask, I might have some answers.
So I have to be honest. I have a severe addiction to Instagram. It’s bad. I check Instagram at night before I go to bed, during my walk between classes, while I put on eyeliner before work, when my mom is talking to me about finances — the list literally never ends.
While trying to calculate exactly how many hours a day I spend in Instagram’s clutches, I stumbled upon a picture that almost made me cry. (Sad, right?) Kehlani, a pop singer and dancer, posted a picture with her girlfriend.
Wait a second. Girlfriend?! I had to blink a couple of times. Okay woah, I had no idea Kehlani was bisexual. I had been listening to her music for the last five years and didn’t know she was just like me. An openly queer woman, unafraid to show her love on a public platform.
I got curious. How many musicians we listen to on the radio everyday are bisexual? How many live openly and are unafraid to share their stories with the world’s eyes on them?
A previously posted open-sourced photograph of Lana Lokteff was removed because she did not consent to her image being published in association with this article.
By Rosemary Anderson
The American alt-right movement wants to strip women of the right to vote, allow men to use violent tactics to “keep women in line,” and force women back into the home–but alt-right men are not the only ones who support these statements. Women do too.
With the rise of the alt-right, increasingly more women have become involved in the movement.
Racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, anti-Semitism, antifeminism: all are words that can describe the alt-right. So how do people get involved in the first place? Specifically, how do women get involved?
For me and many others, receiving an education from the University of Idaho is one of the best gifts we’ve ever been given. The campus is beautiful, the faculty and staff are welcoming, and the student body is diverse–or is it?
According to the numbers, 71% of students are white and only 29% of students are people of color. For a national average, 58% of all college students in America are white and the remaining 42% are people of color. From the 1970s to today, these percentages have been shifting more towards middle ground.
Although the diversity numbers for the UI may be a little higher than other universities, it’s not something to be proud of, at least not yet.
After talking to a few professors on campus, I learned that the faculty at the UI is disparagingly white as well. I was told that there are only about two dozen faculty of color. So how can we make our classrooms more inclusive?
Red light. You’re dying. You must be dying. You never thought you’d die in a Volkswagen.
Green light. Your heart beats uncontrollably. So loudly you can hear it over Katy Perry on the radio. Your chest throbs as if she also hit you in the torso with a baseball bat.
Left turn. Your legs and arms go numb, making it hard to grip the wheel. You start singing every church song you can remember from Sunday school.
Red light. You can’t see. You check your phone to call 911 but you can’t see the numbers. Everything is blurry–the lights, the cars, your mind. You’re on the verge of passing out.
Left turn. Breathing becomes painful. You take a breath as if your car is floating under water, your mind floating somewhere above your car.
Red light. Your body begins to shake uncontrollably. You see a police car at the next intersection. You begin to formulate a plan to flag him down and tell him you’re dying. But you don’t know how to do this, so you keep driving home.
America has seen firsthand the creation of discriminatory policies in its history, but it has also seen these policies be overturned in favor of equality. To this day, people are working hard to have their voice heard and represented in American society. But it takes a special person to destroy a prejudiced institution, armed with nothing but their own bravery.
Luckily for UI students, we have the opportunity to meet and hear from one of these special people: Major Margaret Witt – an activist, an author, a wife, and a woman who made way for LGBTQIA+ people to serve openly in the military.
Maj. Witt had an exemplary career with the U.S. Air Force and Air Force Reserves until she was discharged in 2007 under the policy known as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” The policy prohibited known gays and lesbians from serving in the U.S. military and expulsed more than 13,000 gay servicemen and women already enlisted.