Look For The Union Labia

When the National Organization of Women celebrated NOW’s 25th anniversary in 1992, a contingent of sex worker feminists organized by publisher Miki Demarest made a point to be there and be heard.

Miki Demarest was so excited she could not stand still. Breast pockets flapping, jumping like an aerobics instructor on firm, round thighs, she paced the front of the room, anticipating the start of the meeting. Miki was ready. She’d organized a contingent of sex workers to come to New York from San Francisco as convention delegates to the 25th anniversary conference of the National Organization For Women (NOW). Since its inception, NOW’s policy on pornography, as reflected in the group’s resolutions, has been that the sex industry only exploits and abuses women. It was time, said Miki, publisher of the San Francisco-based sexpaper Spectator, to put the record straight.

What better example of a porn star unscathed than Nina Hartley—beautiful, charming, articulate! If the sex industry had a recruitment poster, Nina would be on it, preferably smiling while offering that glorious buttocks view. Nina joined Miki, and so did Kat Sunlove who is a fantasy facilitator/Spectator business manager /Nina’s playmate. Also in the group is Bobby Lilly, Nina’s “wife”… (It’s impossible to keep the libidinous exploits of these San Franciscans straight, so don’t even try. We’ll all come together soon, I promise.)

Bobby Lilly is one of the organizers of Cal-Act (Californians Against Censorship) and publishes that group’s very informative newsletter. Writer Carol Queen and Samantha “The Safe-Sexhibitionist” Miller came as delegates. These two party girls about town were also the unofficial representatives of COYOTE, the National Task Force On Prostitution. Sociologist Wendy Chapkis provided a unique addition to this bevy of glamour girls. The lesbian author of Beauty Secrets, a book that details the politics of appearance, sported a blonde butch cut and full, lush moustache.

Miki had told me of her plans a few months prior to the conference. She had already begun working within NOW as the chairperson of NOW San Francisco’s Task Force on Sex Work and Pornography.

“Of course, you’ll go to the conference, right Veronica..?”

“Well…Miki…” I really wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of working within that very large group.

“But they influence government policies that affect all of us,” argued Miki.

At the Union Labia booth, from left: Wendy, Nina, Samantha, Carol, Betty, and feminist author Shere Hite

I knew she had a point. But, of course, the real clincher was that I was sure that with all of those great women involved, we were bound to have fun. Annie Sprinkle organized a table where we could give away condoms and sell books, videos, magazines, buttons that would promote our propaganda—”our” being the name we took for ourselves, “The Union Labia—Sex Positive Feminists.” The sign hung proudly over our booth. P.O.N.Y. rider Tracy Quan and Annie cracked the whip over the P.O.N.Y. riders so that issue #2 of the P.O.N.Y XPress made it hot off the press to the conference.

P.O.N.Y.’s legal committee chairperson Vanessa Andressa forgot her vow to never again attend a NOW meeting—NEVER! NEVER!—joined us, as did Domine Blue, who is always on the lookout to broaden her career horizons. Betty Dodson, the mistress of masturbation, had put in her time at NOW meetings years earlier. She did not go to the conference, but she invited us all to her place on Saturday night to share her hands-on method of inspiration. We would also be joined on Saturday by America’s most exposed prostitute, Dolores French, author of Working. Dolores flew up from Atlanta.

Dolores French, Samantha Miller and Carol Queen send a sex-positive message to spectators at the NOW march and rally.

All of us except Betty and Dolores were at the NOW meeting with Miki on Friday afternoon. It was an “issues hearing” to consider new resolutons on pornography and sex work. As extra ammo for our delegation, Miki arranged for Priscilla Alexander to fly in from Geneva. Priscilla was not only a former NOW officer, she was thoroughly committed to sex workers’ rights and a director of COYOTE. She’d begun working in Geneva a few years ago, when her experience in AIDS issues made her a prime candidate for a job with WHO (World Health Organization). Both we of The Union Labia and her friends in NOW welcomed Priscilla with open arms. As a special surprise, Annie presented her with P.O.N.Y.’s Aphrodite Award, our highest honor, given only to sex workers, in recognition of distinguished “sexual service to the community.”

The hearing on the resolutions provided us with an introduction to NOW lingo and procedures. Everything was run according to Robert’s Rules: motions and amendments, calls to question, and points of information. . . It was slow going. Some of the most popular words of the day: feminist, activist, patriarchy and violence. There were a number of meetings that centered on the problem of male violence, a favorite NOW topic. Another prevailing view reflected in NOW’s present policies is that pornography is a reflection of, or contributes to male violence toward women. In order to correct this idea, Miki and the women from San Francisco had come to the conference with a new set of resolutions that proposed NOW set up a task force to review its policies on pornography and sex work. We weren’t telling NOW how to think, we were just letting them know that not all of us NOW members agreed with present policies, and we wanted some time set aside to reconsider this subject which had already so split the feminist movement. This time we proposed there be some actual sex workers on the committee informing NOW’s opinion.

Our resolution passed this initial stage, its success due to the fact that it made sense, but more than that, to the enthusiasm and passion that came from Miki, Bobby, Priscilla…all of the sex positive fems who had spent many hours in research and preparation. I’d witnessed my house guest Safe Sex Samantha Miller, pore over the thick pile of studies and opinions that Miki had given her as background info. Reading most of that stuff was pretty depresssing and frustrating, particularly the gory stories that used faulty logic to prove the porn/violence connection.

A week prior to the conference I’d read rock writer Dave Marsh’s book 50 Ways to Fight Censorship (Thunder Mouth Press) in which he gives a great argument against this rationale for repression. “What about all of those serial killers who claimed they were led to their crimes by direct orders from god? Does this claim mean we must ban the bible?” Even without the resolutions and preparations, the mere fact of our happy, healthy presence at the conference counteracted the claims of the anti-porn brigade. My red and white, off the shoulder polka dot number was definitely the best dress of the day, perhaps of the entire conference, and helped to win us friends. Fashion statements can speak louder than words.

Our resolution, however, got bogged down in the plenary session on the last day. There were a lot of resolutions ahead of ours and all of them had to do with women’s bodies. Porn issues were number one in the minds of the Union Labia, but for the NOW directors, the primary issues were opposing the nomination of Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court, and overturning the Court’s decision to uphold the “gag-rule” that prevents government-funded clinics from including abortion counselling in their services.

Thomas was described by NOW acting president Patricia Ireland, who quoted from a formal resolution, as “an insult to the legacy of Thurgood Marshall and a whole generation of work for human rights.” His record as the Reagan-appointed chairman of the Economic Opportunities Commission was cited as proof of his disdain and lack of understanding for the poor and minorities, including women. It was a foregone conclusion, according to NOW, that Thomas would vote to overturn Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court Decision that protects freedom of reproductive choice.

Free condoms at our table -courtesy of Helen Wolf’s Come Again boutique

Continuing the “we mean business” approach, for the first time in its 25-year history, NOW officially adopted a policy of civil disobedience. Referring to the planned march on Washington for freedom of choice, Patricia Ireland urged the one thousand women gathered at the opening ceremonies, “I want one million people in the streets in April, 1992. Will you be there?” The grand ballroom of the Hilton Hotel resounded with cheers.

“We Won’t Go Back” was the title of another resolution that was adopted into NOW policy. It referred to the days before Roe v. Wade, the days of wire hangers and unsafe, illegal abortions. The feminists are tired and pissed. “No more Daddy’s little girl, ” warned lawyer and prostitutes rights activist Flo Kennedy. a NOW founding member. As to Thomas, she recommended, “Kill him immediately… kill him politically.” Ever-practical, Flo called for women to stage a buying boycott, a holiday boycott —economic sanctions to pressure an unresponsive government.— “N.O.W. means now!” she said.

For all of the enthusiasm mustered at the opening ceremonies and later at the closing plenary sessions when the resolutions were adopted, my feeling about the conference in general was that the energy level was low. One thousand people did not seem like a lot to attend a national conference of “the world’s largest feminist organization.” Maybe it was the economic climate that caused a slump. At our Union Labia booth, we gave away lots of free condoms, but the sales of other products barely covered our expenses. Even the “Safe Sex Slut” buttons, usually as popular as blow-jobs, were moving slow. Nor did any of the other booths seem to be doing much business. Everyone, however. was very curious about our work and open to conversation. Any flack we might have gotten was absorbed by the F.B.I. who had a table in the next aisle.

NOW members were really pissed that the FBI had set up a recruitment table at the conference. “They were going to be here anyway,” respondsd Patricia Ireland, “so we figured we would make them pay.” Later she admitted that allowing the F.B.I. presence had been “a serious political error.” Career-minded Domine Blue took the opportunity to pick up an application for an F.B.I. desk job. I think she’d better stick to fantasy facilitating. “Agent Blue” sounds more like a laundry detergent to me.

One of the highlights of the conference was Saturday’s outdoor march and rally “For Women’s Lives.” But for the Union Labia, a far more exciting and meaningful event came a bit later in the day, not on the streets but in the temple of the goddess, the home of Betty Dodson, when eight of the Union Labia plugged in our vibrators and shared a ritual. We came together in a jill-off.

The idea for this get-together had come a few days before the conference, when Samantha and I visited Betty. It was a really exciting thing about this meeting of the San Franciso libido liberals joining the P.O.N.Y. riders, and a masturbation ritual seemed like the most natural thing to do. “Wait a minute, I don’t want to feel like I am working,” said Betty referring to her famous bodysex workshops in which she guides women into experiencing the pleasure and power of their vulvas.

Nina says that during her live stage shows, She gives her audience instructions in making love to her pussy. “My clit loves a soft steady beat,” she says.

Betty agrees, “Give me a steady beat,” she says. “This is my dance, don’t you go faster. I’ll do the dancing.”

Then Sam shows her lips. so fragile and delicately shaped. In the midst of all this pink, I lower my jumpsuit and show off my multicolored black and pink cunt. Betty calls it “the black orchid.” As the energy begins to shift in the direction of a more physical rather than philosophical evening, Miki and Bobby leave discreetly.

I get up to go to the toilet and decide that I’ll start the ball rolling by returning naked. No one says a word as I spread myself on the floor over some pillows. “Let’s lounge around like the goddesses we are.” That’s all the prompting the others need. It’s off with the clothes and out with the vibrators. Dolores has come prepared with a black lace peignoir, the rest of us are nude.

We send out energy to the NOW women, to Patricia Ireland, to Flo Kennedy, to Gloria Steinem. “Next year let’s have a “whorspitality suite,” suggests Carol Queen. “We’ll serve whores d’oeuvres,” says Vanessa. Dolores French likes the idea. “Annie can do her Sluts & Goddesses workshop.”

“I’ll cover the magazine rights.”

Libido Liberals

“I’ve got HBO.”

‘We can make a video right at the conference, invite enthusiastic amateurs to be in
it.”

“The Eager Beavers.”

When the giggling subsides, we plug in our Hitachis. There is one Panabrator and Dolores French definitely has the hots for it. Sometimes holding hands, sometimes alone, sometimes together, we ride the crest of our orgasms. Breathing deeply, undulating, appreciating ourselves and each other, owning our own bodies, our own pleasure, in this ritual of self-empowerment. The Union Labia is cuntpositive!

As for NOW, most important, we made our presence known. Our resolution might have been stalled for the moment, but we intend to see it through. Sex-positive feminists keep on coming.