Whores.
They don't rank very high on our list of respectable professions, do they? Oh,
let's see: doctors, professors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, business women,
writers, social workers, clergy. Nope. Call girls just don't make the cut.
As a woman -
prostitutes disgust me. As a professional - they insult me. As a mother - I am
appalled.
Before India,
I had never personally met a woman of ill repute (at least that I know of). Before
India,
I had never walked the streets of a red-light district. Before India,
I had only viewed the women behind this shameful profession through a window,
where it's much easier to judge and condemn than to understand and love.
On the
ground, as I walked through the streets of Mumbai where women posed at the
front door of their brothels, I locked eyes with their pimps and glared at them
with disdain for their business practice. But as I looked into the eyes of the
women, both young and old, waiting to begin their trade of service - with as
many as 20 men a night - my disgust quickly gave way to anguish.
Sitting in
a half-way house that rescues these women, many who have never learned to read
or write, I heard their stories as, one after another, they told of how their
uncle, their father, their mother,
sold them into the sex trade at the tender ages of 12 and 13. This is not the
exceptional story - this is the
story. When I looked into their tearful, shame-filled eyes as they wept, I was
no longer insulted by their choice of work, but found myself enraged that they had no choice.
Nearby, my
traveling buddies and I visited an orphanage full of little girls dressed in
their Sunday best. We sang and danced the Hokey
Pokey with these fresh-faced little cherubs whose mothers have tucked them
away from the ugliness of their world... mothers who long for a better life for their
daughters. As I sang and played with these happy, gorgeous children, I was no
longer appalled by their mothers' line of work, but in awe of their courage and
creativity to provide for these babies an escape from the destiny that could so
easily befall them.
Looking
through a window, it was easy to be judgmental. But on the ground, these women
become real people. As my senses awakened in listening to their stories, I was
quickly transported in my mind back to the States, wondering how often I have
misjudged others, too.
As a woman,
a daughter, and a mother - I am no longer disgusted with the acts of others but
rather I am heartbroken at my own judgmental spirit. It's easy to point
fingers, isn't it? Before jumping to conclusions, I hope you will join me in learning
more of the back story on others you judge, too. Because on the ground, things are
never as simple as they seem.
Giving up
the robe,
Ellen
Posted by Ellen on April 6, 2009 4:13 PM
| Category: On the Ground
Ellen- working with Truth be Told women in prison who tell their stories - I still remember my surprise the first time one woman spoke of being a prostitute - then the speaker who followed her said "I've done many things, but I've NEVER sold my body." Her condemnation rang in the air and I realized that somehow I thought all criminals were alike until that moment. Judgment of others, self-righteousness, measuring one's acceptibility by denigrating anothers - these are not just the bailiwick of good church folks like us! Everyhere, folks use the technique of shaming others to justify ourselves. This was a WELL written article and I thank you for continuing to use your gifts for our enlightenment! Nathalie
Awesome article! All the more reason that we need to "go make disciples of all nations!" Even if it's only in our own hometown, schools, or neighborhoods.
In January I had t-shirts made for myself and my four best friends that says "The world would be a much better place if people would learn the inner beauty of others before they judge them."
This was a quote from a 12 year old autistic girl on the Ellen Degeneres show. We all wear them proudly.
