The whole Spizter mess has thrown the division between civilian women and sex workers into high relief, moreso than the DC Madam thing. (Maybe Iâ€™m more aware of it.)
Growing up, I participated in school sports. At the end of every game, the teams would line up and pass each other, hands out at waist level, meeting palm-to-palm and say â€œGood gameâ€ or â€œGood jobâ€ (imagine a really gentle high-five at waist level). Prayer started every game; this little ritual ended it. Most of the time the coaches would join the end of the line. Sitting out of the line was unthinkable â€“ I donâ€™t remember anyone doing it (though some girls didnâ€™t touch everyoneâ€™s hands). It wouldâ€™ve been heresy. Both boys and girls teams did this starting in Little Dribblers or T-Ball and all through high school.
I have to wonder, if I did the line today and the other players knew my history, would they still touch my hand and say â€œGood gameâ€? Would they refuse? Would they say other things under their breath? Would some of them turn away because they had secrets? Would they see me as an equal player, though not equal in life?
Of all the girlsâ€™ hands that I touched, how many of them would be willing to extend it again in the spirit of sportsmanship and acknowledgement of an equal?