Y&R-Students Who Strip (long OT)
Carol Frilegh
from the Toronto Star
Many who try to pay off tuition and books by dancing, wind up caught up
in lifestyle
The brainy babe: By now, you've heard the myth of the sexy student who
dances for fun and titillation and manages to pay for law school at the
same time.
But in reality, after talking with student strippers around the Greater
Tornto Area, it appears few students who begin stripping to pay for
tuition are able to keep from becoming addicted to the underworld
lifestyle.
The women we talked to for this story estimate that about 20 to 30 per
cent of strippers are students. And the women also consistently agree
that stripping nudges studying off students' timetables as they fall
prey to the fast money, easy drugs, flexible hours and endless
attention.
Toronto-born and raised "Andrea," 27, stopped stripping only after a
minivan struck her and she injured her leg last October. She asks that
her real and stage names are not used because she has stripped
illegally in San Francisco and Miami.
She started when she was 19, at the suggestion of a friend. At first,
Andrea, a blue-eyed blonde rejected the idea because it seemed "seedy
and taboo."
But when she saw someone make $400 in two hours, she decided to strip
temporarily ‹ just until she was accepted into theatre school. But
temporary turned into seven years, off and on. During that stretch
Andrea entered three different post-secondary programs and each time
she left after a few months and went back to stripping.
"Paul," a Toronto strip club DJ who has been in the business for 15
years, e-mails that he has known many students who began stripping to
pay for tuition but "very few were serious about it. ... most do it
because it's the non-stop party for girls with low self-esteem and the
large amounts of money they can make. Out of 15 years doing this and
watching over these girls, maybe a dozen of them made it and never
looked back."
Andrea fits the description ‹ at least the first part.
For the first time in her life, the money was pouring in when she
started stripping, she remembers.
For a 19-year-old who had made not much more than minimum wage at a
coffee shop during high school, the money was a draw.
"I didn't have to wait until Tuesday to go see a movie," she explains.
But more importantly, she could buy as much straight vodka as she could
guzzle in order to numb her fear and insecurities before every shift.
Eventually Andrea became an alcoholic. But she lived the life of a
jetsetter, working in San Francisco and partying in New York. She even
lived in Vancouver and flew to San Fran to work. There were nights she
made over $1,000 U.S.
By the time she turned 20 and began studying in Vancouver, she hated
it. She lasted only four months at school.
Fast-forward to age 23 and Andrea was regularly drinking and doing a
variety of drugs, including crystal, speed, ephedra, ecstasy and
cocaine.
She began doing drugs heavily around the same time that lap dancing
became legal, she recalls. She hated being touched and she sought
solace by numbing herself.
Eventually, she became addicted to cocaine. By then, she couldn't quit
stripping even though she wanted to ‹ she needed the money to feed her
habit.
Andrea has since decided to sober up and she works as a temp
receptionist in downtown Toronto.
After she was hit by the minivan, she says she "realized my life sucks."
But she is hopeful. She still wants to enter university. She ticks off
possible careers: psychiatrist, therapist, radio broadcaster,
journalist or teacher.
Students may start off focused to make money for tuition, says Andrea,
but "they can lose that focus quickly."
But there are those who argue it is possible to study and strip.
Stripping can be an ideal job for students because the hours are
flexible, says Mary Taylor, an exotic dancer who left the business in
1997 after having stripped for 21 years.
"How much fun is (it) grinding on all these guys' laps all day long?
(Exotic dancers) must certainly be doing it for the money," she says.
But even Taylor warns that students can be easily "suckered in by the
money and the freedom that the job offers."
"What happens is you go in with good intentions," she explains. Then
students start missing classes because they are too tired from a late
night's work and it's easy to drop out.
Ryerson journalism student June Morrow says she had a love/hate
relationship with stripping.
She was 22 when she finished her college diploma in business
administration in Ottawa.
She had broken up with her boyfriend and lost a lot of weight. She
noticed a job ad for young women without experience, so she headed out
to a strip club and tried it one night when her parents were away.
And she loved it.
"Being on stage was really liberating ... I never got it out of my
mind," says Morrow.
A few years and one divorce later, she was looking for a change and
quick money to do some travelling.
She came to Toronto and danced on and off for six years at joints like
Zanzibar, Charlie T's, the Brass Rail, Filmore's and Caddy's.
She also finished a bachelor's degree in arts through distance
education from the University of Waterloo.
But for Morrow, "tuition became an excuse ... I loved the attention,
I'm a natural performer so that was awesome." So she didn't stop when
she finished her degree.
A cash-in-hand income where you make your own hours can be addictive,
she says. On a bad day, she made $20, on a good day up to $400 dollars.
But, like the other strippers, Morrow, now 33, warns: "You are at a
real risk of losing yourself to this industry, it has a way of sucking
you in."
She says her ego craved the constant attention from men who fawned,
"You're so pretty, you're so smart, you're not like the other girls."
But, she says, "If you start taking it too seriously you're going to
get screwed up." She realized this when she quit stripping two years
ago, before she started her journalism degree. She saved enough to pay
for tuition and living expenses and hasn't been in a strip club since.
But for every woman who decides to quit, another takes her place.
"Dakota," a slim woman with tattoos and strawberry-red bra and panties
is at work one winter afternoon. She has long dark hair, fair skin and
a sweet smile. Dakota is her stage name.
She looks about 25 tops. But at 32, she is an artist who graduated from
the Sheridan College illustration program a few years ago, just missing
the digital revolution.
She is currently enrolled at George Brown and has been dancing for
about four years. Dakota recently put on a show of 24 paintings with
the Come as You Are sex store. They are meant to illustrate the
dynamics, sexual politics and tensions between clients and dancers.
She works the downtown club circuit. One of the clubs, which she asks
not to be revealed, has both medicine and law students. Most students
don't work the clubs near their schools, she says. On a good day she
makes up to $500 cash. But the pay is unstable and tips and clients
dwindle in the winter.
It's dark inside the downtown Toronto strip club. The large room is lit
up with rotating disco lights and a pulsating red glow. At 3:30 p.m.,
there are only about five men hanging around.
A sign in the ladies' washroom reminds dancers to keep away from drugs
or face dismissal. But the air freshener doesn't mask the scent of a
recently smoked joint.
Dakota began working as an art therapist when she finished school,
among other jobs, but, "I have a hard time conforming to social norms,"
she says, "particularly the Christian model of performing in the
workplace."
If strip clubs weren't stigmatized, perhaps Dakota wouldn't need to
keep her work from her religious parents. And she wouldn't have gaps in
her resume because she would be able to list her dancing experience
instead of deleting it.
Mary Taylor says exotic dancers "have a lot of talent in different
areas, marketing, sales people, customer relations" but unfortunately
many do not include their dancing experience on their resumes.
"(The job) takes a great deal of courage," says Dakota. "It can be
pretty terrifying and deserves a bit more respect."
Katzman Enterprises, which operates a chain of strip clubs in Windsor
and Detroit, has been recruiting strippers for about 10 years now by
offering to pay a portion of their tuition, according to a CNN report.
It recently placed ads in the Lance, the University of Windsor
newspaper, promising to pay tuition. Adult club owner Robert Katzman
told CNN that, "A girl who wants to better herself, who wants to
progress, makes for a higher level entertainer,"
As of September, about 20 women were taking advantage of the deal.
Dakota says Katzman Enterprises' offer seems generous. "I am only here
out of financial necessity," she says, "If I had a choice I would be
pursuing my real career."
--
Diva
*****
The Best Man for the Job May Be A Woman