AngelaWhiteXXX

The moment I first saw pornography I wanted to be a part of it. Growing up, I had been chastised for my sexuality. I was teased in high school for being both a slut and a lesbian; so at one and the same time I was accused of fucking too many men and not enough. My sexual appetite intimidated my partners and I had a hard time trying to fit myself into the monogamous blueprint. By the time I was 14, I was already voluptuous so I also felt that my body didn’t fit with the beauty standards I was confronted with in the mainstream media. When I discovered pornography at the same age, I saw a celebration of diverse bodies, pleasures and desires. I saw a space in which I could explore my sexuality with multiple partners of any gender with peers that would support and encourage me. The industry may not have turned out to be the utopia I imagined it to be in my teens, it is a capitalist enterprise after all. But my personal experience within pornography has been incredibly positive in terms of both my sexual development and my body image.

I did a BA (Hons) in Gender Studies at the University of Melbourne and studied gender politics, sociology and anthropology at the Institute of Political Science in Paris, France. Gender Trouble by Judith Butler blew my I.Q. and will always be one of my favourite books. I also love anything by Elizabeth Grosz, Michel Foucault and Linda Williams. In terms of recommendations for fans, The Porn Report by Alan McKee, Catharine Lumby and Kath Albury is a well-balanced look at pornography in Australia and clears up many myths surrounding the industry.

This is a tough one to answer because often my 'worst' experiences are the ones in which I've learnt the most. I'm therefore grateful for them in hindsight. I would have to say that the moment I realised that pornography was a 'business' really upset and affected me. When I entered the industry in 2003, I had a very utopian (and clearly naïve) understanding of what pornography was like. I thought that everyone saw the industry as a space to express and explore their sexuality and that we were a big family (possibly a bad choice of words) working towards the same objective: portraying sexuality as a healthy part of human life and promoting the message that nobody should be ashamed about their sexuality or desires. I was in the industry for 4 blissful years before this view of this utopian world was shattered. It was a simple thing really, I found out that all performers got paid a different amount; in other words, that some people were ‘valued’ more than others. I didn’t feel that what I did on camera was ‘work’ and always felt the money was a gift or helpful gesture for sharing myself with the world. I never negotiated my payment because that never seemed to be the point. And business being business of course I was being paid less. To their credit the company in question ended up paying me more when I confronted them. But the damage was done, I lost my innocence.

Be disrespectful or boring.

Most sex education programs are sex-negative, even those that do not advocate for abstinence. It can’t help young adults to only teach them a skewed perspective about how ‘scary’ sex can be. Most sex education programs lack any explanation about the ways in which sex can be pleasurable, life affirming and create lasting bonds. I think sex education also needs to start a lot younger, while obviously remaining age-appropriate. Why are we teaching young adults about sex after some of them will have already started having it? And if people are gaining access to pornography at a younger age, despite efforts by parents and porn companies alike, then we need to provide young adults with the tools to interpret and understand the sexual landscape.