Another important voice
This is the third piece on Sex In The Public Square dealing with the University of New Mexico conflict over the investigation into Professor Lisa Chavez's work for a BDSM fantasy phone service. In the first piece I wrote about questions I thought the case raised based on very early media coverage of the story. In the second post, yesterday, Lisa Chavez herself took the time to answer questions about the story. It is important for her voice to be heard. The comments on that thread show what a serious discussion of the issues can look like.
Today we add another voice. Liz Derrington wrote to me yesterday sharing her part in the story. She is the graduate student referred to in yesterday's piece, and listening to her voice is as important as listening to Professor Chavez's. For one thing, their stories so clearly support one other that it seems all the more evidence that the initial university investigation produced the right outcome (though as Michael Goodyear points out here we can't know if they did so by following due process because as far as we know there have been no reports about the investigation released to the public). Liz Derrington's story is important for its own sake, too, of course. For one thing, it provides a window into a part of the sex industry that we often forget to look at. I am especially touched, though by the way that she clearly and openly explains just how damaging have been the actions of people who claimed to be concerned for her. It is a reminder of how harmful is the paternalism with which we often approach the issue of sex work, especially when combined with the stigma already attached to that work. I'm grateful to Liz for telling her story here:
Liz Derrington writes:
I am the graduate student referred to in the Sex in the Public Square post from April 4, entitled "Lisa Chavez speaks out." I wanted to take some time to do some speaking out myself, as I have not done so before now aside from during the official investigation.
I began working for PEP in February 2007. Lisa Chávez and I began taking calls at the same time, but that was entirely a coincidence. I was taking a class with her that semester; it was an elective for me that I opted to take partly because I thought I would learn a lot and it would look good on my CV, but also because I had a great deal of respect for Professor Chávez as a writer and had heard good things about her as a teacher. As was the case with many of my professors in graduate school, I was able to be friends with Professor Chávez outside the classroom while still respecting her authority in the classroom. We never discussed our phone sex work in class, nor did we discuss class during the two or three photo shoots we engaged in. As Elizabeth has pointed out, the pictures we took during the two or three photo shoots we engaged in were entirely staged. Professor Chávez and I were playing characters, essentially: we worked under pseudonyms, along with assumed personas. As Professor Chávez has said in the past, it's not like our photos bore captions with our real names and explanations of our connection to UNM, so I think it's a stretch to say our work for PEP could be construed as damaging to the reputation of UNM, the English department, or the Creative Writing division.
While PEP as an organization is close-knit and supportive, each woman works independently, taking calls from her home, by herself. Professor Chávez and I were friends, and PSOs (phone sex operators) working for the same organization, but we had neither a sexual nor a romantic relationship. As far as I was concerned, our relationship remained well within the bounds of propriety.
As Lisa said, though, in July an "anonymous" letter arrived in the English department, "outing" Professor Chávez as a PSO. My understanding -- Professor Chávez is the only one who has both seen the letter and talked to me about it -- is that the letter contained photos from the website, some of which included me. Or it might be that the letter referred to the website, and upon viewing the website, other professors recognized me as well as Professor Chávez. At any rate, it came out that the two of us, along with a student who'd graduated in May 2006, were working for this company. At first it seemed like UNM's lawyers didn't see anything wrong with Professor Chávez participating in PEP activities with an adult graduate student, but by the fall an official investigation was underway.
People were ostensibly concerned for me. They wanted to make sure I hadn't been coerced into working for PEP, hadn't been recruited via the University, that my grades hadn't been contingent on my work for PEP, that I didn't feel like I'd been harassed or made uncomfortable, etc. Honestly, though, at this point I have a hard time believing that they want Professor Chávez to be punished, or at least for further investigations or reviews to be made, because they're concerned for students. One reason for my skepticism is that the official investigation was thorough. As the Daily Lobo article points out, the Deputy Provost found that "the graduate students involved 'reported their activities were consensual, and all disclaimed any recruitment, solicitation or coercion.'" And yet the anti-Professor Chávez contingent continues to call for her head.
Another, more pointed (for me) reason for my skepticism is the fact that once word of my involvement with PEP (not to mention the photos) began to spread, many of the professors in the department began to shun me. Most notably, my dissertation advisor at the time refused to work with me anymore, meaning I had to switch advisors less than three months before my dissertation defense. That same professor also told more than one other person that she felt she ought to contact the university where I now work -- I had the job lined up last semester -- to tell them that I'm not morally fit to teach. I hadn't intended to continue doing phone sex work once I started teaching anyway (largely because I found it mentally and emotionally draining), but I ended up having to quit several months sooner than I'd planned because I began to have panic attacks anytime the phone rang -- I was afraid it was someone from the English department calling to check up on me, to accuse me further of engaging in immorality. My credit card balances still show the damage that quitting before I had another job available did to my finances. I sank into depression, not because of anything Professor Chávez did -- indeed, she has never been anything but supportive of me, professionally and personally -- but because I felt betrayed and abandoned by a number of other people in the department whom I had trusted and respected.
Again, many of those people are the ones claiming that their objection to Professor Chávez being called fit to teach comes from a concern for students, but none of them ever asked me what happened; they simply stopped speaking to me.
Furthermore, word reached me at one point that I was being blatantly slandered within the department, that people were being told that Professor Chávez and I were engaging in a sexual relationship, and that we were also engaging in prostitution. PEP does offer in-person domination sessions, and while I appreciate that such sessions tread a very fine legal line as they are sexual in nature without involving actual sex, the fact of the matter is that Professor Chávez and I never participated in such sessions; the work we did was strictly over the phone. I hired an attorney once the official investigation was underway, because I feared being slandered further, and I felt that the English department was doing a poor job of representing my interests. In the end, the only evidence I had of the slander was hearsay, and so I didn't take legal action, but I felt a great deal of hostility directed at me within the department, particularly on the part of many of the same people who would like to see Professor Chávez punished further, if not fired.
When I began working for PEP, I was 27 years old and going through a divorce. I was struggling with issues of self-image and self-acceptance, and, perhaps most importantly, I needed money. The simple truth is that working as a phone sex operator pays a good deal better than waiting tables does. I hope to write (my concentration when I was a grad student was fiction, but I also write nonfiction) about how PEP had a positive effect on my self-image, how I could walk around in skimpy clothing at photo shoots and feel sexy and proud of my body, rather than ashamed of it. I felt like a powerful and talented woman, rather than a Jezebel who wanted more than her share and had divorced a perfectly good man as a result. I could revel in my identity as a bi switch and feel accepted, rather than shamed for not being able to make up my mind, for being a freak. And there was anger when I felt like people who had no business knowing about my sex work judged me, and projected their shame onto me.
I graduated in December, and am now working as an adjunct instructor. I want to focus now on my teaching and writing, on trying to establish my career, but this scandal continues to occupy my thoughts, and not just because I consider Professor Chávez a good friend and it upsets me to see her being treated the way she's being treated. I still have concerns about my professional future: I know that there are a number of faculty members at the University of New Mexico who would give me a strong recommendation if asked. However, I also fear that there are faculty members who, if asked about me, would give me a negative evaluation based not on the work I actually did at UNM, but on their disapproval of my work as a phone sex operator. I dislike feeling like I have to keep looking over my shoulder, so to speak, every time I put UNM down as a former employer. I'm not foolish enough to put the professors who have clear objections to my behavior down as references, but my fear is that if another department were to take it upon themselves to do an exceptionally thorough background check on me, the aforementioned professors would be all too willing to bring up subjects that would be inappropriate in that context. My hope is that by speaking out, I will, if nothing else, be able to control the narrative being told about me, at least to a certain extent.