Sex Work, Survival, Sisterhood
The Stroll on Max reclaims and venerates the erased history of transwomen sex workers in NYC.
You must watch The Stroll on Max, a documentary that centers the history of queer and trans women sex workers from the 80s til early-2000s who worked in the Meat Packing District in NYC. The Meat Packing District during the 80s is historically known for the queer sex clubs and sex workers that populated the area. The documentary talks specifically about the impact of anti-prostitution laws, broken windows policing, 911 attack, and gentrification on the lives of Black and Brown trans women who survived those years—many didn’t.
Synopsis: When Director Kristen Lovell moved to New York City in the 1990s and began to transition, she was fired from her job. With so few options to earn money to survive, Kristen, like many transgender women of color during this era, began sex work in an area known as “The Stroll” in the Meatpacking District of lower Manhattan, where trans women congregated and forged a deep camaraderie to protect each other from harassment and violence.
Reuniting her sisters to tell this essential New York story from their first-hand experiences, Kristen’s intimate narration and interviews bring an astonishing array of archival material of bygone New York from the 1970s through the early 2000s to life.
What makes the storytelling in The Stroll distinct is Kristen Lovell’s presence and authority to help shape and tell this story. The film opens with Kristen sharing how she got into sex work and how her experience being featured in a short film sparked her interest in film and desire to tell her own story. Paired with her love of history and research, Kristen acts as a conduit to a world and community that dominant society continually ignores and violates. She shares her story honestly and gives space for the women featured to tell their stories authentically, as well.
One of my favorite break-the-fourth-wall moments is between Carey and Kristen during an interview. Carey is recounting the first time she pegged a client. Before she gets too deep into the story, she interrupts herself to ask Kristen if it’s okay for her to continue with the details.
Without missing a beat, Kristen replies, reassuringly, and with a small chuckle, “Girl, you’re fine!” They both laugh.
I replayed this moment at least three times because of the kindred familiarity of their exchange. In the “Girl, your fine,” I heard “Your story is welcomed here.” I also sensed protection in the way Kristen said, “you’re fine,” as if daring anyone in the production to stop Carey from speaking openly. Kristen uplifts the story of all the women and, as such, celebrates the lived experiences of trans sex workers that are often policed, silenced or ignored. Luckily, there are many more moments like this throughout the film that bring brevity and humor.
In many ways, The Stroll queers the history of the Meat Packing District and traces the social and historical moments that led to the gentrification of the area today. By bringing the histories and experiences of transwomen and sex workers to the forefront, the filmmakers effectively re-contextualize key historical moments through a marginalized perspective. In doing so, they defend the rights sex workers and call for the decriminalization of sex work.
In a recent LA Times review of the film, critic Manuel Betancourt writes: “But the doc is most impactful for the way it reuses photographs and archival images from news broadcasts and documentaries, reframing how the history of the stroll — and queer history more broadly — can and should be told.”
Alongside Kristen’s story and the depth of history inside of the stories of each of the women featured in the film, is another more subtle theme or topic: the importance of the archives in shaping the public’s perception of history. Throughout the film, Kristen reflects on her experience researching trans history in NYC and roving through audio-visual materials that feature trans sex workers. In one scene, she remarks how challenging it was to find materials because she used “transgender” as a keyword instead of “transvestite.” Although language shifts all the time, this reflects the need for archives to be more accessible to ensure accurate documentation of marginalized communities, especially by people from those communities.
In my 2018 interview with archivist and abolitionist Erin Glasco, they talk about this influence a lot.
“Archives are a reflection in how we’re talking about ourselves, how honest we’re being, what we’re omitting, who we’re omitting,” they said. “We need to first concern ourselves with dismantling what we were taught about history, memory, professionalism, and what it means to be an archivist who gets to be an archivist. And, we have to have the understanding that many archives and museums and stewards of information of our society have been very, very hostile and violent to marginalized communities.”
So much of The Stroll’s richness comes from the way Kristen and the other women recontextualizing key moments of history by centering their complex and multi-faceted experiences and the violence and discrimination they’ve experienced at the hands of the NYPD and NY residents. A whole generation of trans elders are gone because they were chronically unprotected and disregarded.
“I learned to defend myself because I was always in close proximity to violence,” Tabytha said at one point in the film.
Tabytha and others share painful moments throughout the film that are hard to sit with. For example, hearing the experiences of transwomen in a men’s prison, seeing RuPaul make light of Meat District sex workers in the 80s, and the smugness of a NYPD officer as he recounts surveillance and criminalization tactics. These moments bring the discomfort, violence and danger to the forefront.
And yet, there are still moments of brevity and laughter that sit comfortably alongside hard truths throughout the film. I felt connected to the duality of laughing through the bullshit to keep the fuck moving.
The documentary is one of the best I’ve seen all year because gives us so much depth, presence, and history to sift through and sit with.
Here are some orgs to support and reference to learn more about sex worker justice and trans rights as well as mutual aid initiatives to donate to:
For The Gworls is a Black trans-led initiative that raises money to assist with Black Trans people’s retn and affirmative surgeries. They are fundraising to continue to provide rent support to Black transgender applicants, access to hormone replacement + affirmative healthcare, funding for their Black transgender staff, and healthcare for their staff. Donate here.
Bantu Safe Haven is a Philly-based Black and Trans-led non-profit organization that supports Black trans folks’ safety by providing the tool as well as supporting their physical, spiritual, and material needs. They do this through the Black Trans Wellness Fund, which allows them to deliver a number of $250 rapid response grants to Black trans folks. Consider subscribing to their Patreon to help support this fund.
Sex Workers Project at the Urban Justice Center provides legal advocacy to survivors of human trafficking and people who engage in sex work.
Trans Women of Color Collective is a collective that offers education, survival and wellness funds to support trans youth and adults. They also created the Visibility Campaign that serves as a vehicle to raise awareness of trans lived experiences.
Sex Worker Outreach Project is a national social justice network dedicated to the fundamental human rights of people involved in the sex trade and their communities, focusing on ending violence and stigma through education and advocacy.
Black Trans Femmes in the Arts (BTFA) is a community-focused non-profit that builds community and mobilizes resources to support Black trans femme artists. Their mission is to “create spaces for the production and preservation of Black trans art and culture by building community with Black trans femme artists and providing them with the resources and support necessary to thrive.”
(Book) The Black Trans Prayer Book by J Mase III: The Black Trans Prayer Book is an interfaith and beyond faith collection of poems, spells, incantations, theological narrative, and visual offerings by Black Trans, Non-Binary, and Intersex people. Re-claiming our divinity and celebrating our essentiality, this text demands space for the brilliance of the many healers and spirit workers in our community.