Seven
years ago when I moved to town, danzine was
a toddler, already up and running. As luck would
have it, I moved into its crib: a dilapidated old
rooming house in Northwest Portland where the mag
was hand-folded and stapled by resident artists,
loonies and junkies on a cat-piss soaked rug. The
town then seemed to be the center of the 'zine revolution,
and danzine positively vibrated with that
energy: everything D.I.Y., everything by and for
SEXWORKERS. Now, sexworkers are not the easiest
demographic to give a deadline to. But this was
the little 'zine that could. Suddenly the laziest
gals in town were drawing cartoons, writing fiction,
designing covers, pounding the pavement for advertising
and dishing up informative articles on health, work
and life. It was inspiring beyond belief. Sexworkers
are notorious loners; get a few of them together
and they takeover the world! danzine fomented
a revolution.
Danzine grew up fast. Editor Teresa Dulce only had
to flirt with those boys at Kinko's for so long
before the magazine became a full-sized glossy.
Its contributors and readers were devoted enough
to throw bi-annual benefits, get up early to fight
Portland's City Council (and win!), donate thousands
of hours to street outreach, needle exchange and
HIV prevention and give lectures at schools and
conventions, nationally and internationally. Teresa
was the heart and soul behind all this, a regular
Robin Hood. Strippers suddenly became community-minded,
rather than feeling ostracized. We had a voice,
we had rights and we learned how to exercise them.
It's interesting to see where Danzine alumnae are
now: many of them have moved on to places like Planned
Parenthood, Outside In and domestic violence shelters.
Some have gone to med school and law school. Others
are the best damn mothers you'll ever meet. Although
Danzine proper may be ending, the values it instilled
are indelible.
All of Portland owes Teresa a Nobel Peace Prize.
'Course she'd lose it somewhere on Lower East Burnside,
or trade it for something useful like a box of fresh
syringes to hand out on her travels. Good luck,
woman, and god bless!! What follows is Ms. Dulce's
letter of resignation.
Danzine
ended June 1.
This included the publication, the health programs,
the art shows and film festivals. This transition
isn't due to money alone, but it does lend a compelling
argument. I think eight years of community service
will do fine for now.
Danzine started as an idea and bloomed into a big
fucking thing that was very cool while it lasted,
but I'd be lying if I said I was sad to see it go
to sleep.
Danzine--Mission
Statement
Danzine was created by and for sex workers. Our goal
was to provide the information and resources needed
to make more informed decisions, personally and professionally.
Some of the girls hated that word--sex worker. I do
too when someone tries to use it against me. Depending
on what I was personally doing, I'd call myself a
dancer, a model, an escort, a working girl, an outreach
worker, a sexeducator. Whatever I felt like, really.
I thought "sex worker" was more for the press, or
students. They had to call us something, because 9
times out of 10 they didn't know shit.
Danzine--History
Danzine started in May of 1995 at a strip club in
Chinatown, Portland. A few dancers and one escort
made the 'zine, danzine. The first articles
were about dancing out of state, a good dentist who
didn't give you a headache for paying in ones, a police
sting on escorts in Texas, and Outside In's free and
legal syringe exchange. The homemade publication was
a cut and paste job, photocopied on a piece of paper
and folded once. Sixty copies were then dropped off
at clubs around town, meant for the dancers in the
dressing room.
The 'zine was self-published monthly. After a few
months, a county outreach worker approached me. The
nice lady said this was the exact type of thing the
health department was looking for, people speaking
for themselves--about what they did, needed and wanted
to do.
In
March 1996, Danzine became a non-profit organization
and I went from being the editrix of a 'zine to the
executive director of an agency. I also started going
to health coalition meetings, raising my voice at
the table for community health. That summer Danzine
volunteers started two health care programs: peer
education in the dressing rooms and needle exchange
on Friday nights in Southeast Portland. By 2003, Danzine
had given over 100 presentations for health care providers
in four countries, 14 states and several local agencies.
I have to say, I like to travel. At first I got to
travel by dancing as I went. Later I got to travel
by talking about dancing.
The non-profit snowballed. We received numerous small
operational grants but were never considered as a
candidate for institutional money, so Danzine threw
art-filled fundraisers to create the necessary revenue.
In other words, we never got government money. Ever.
Never. And we didn't get money from the Ms. Foundation
either, while we're at it. Categorically dogged, mainstream
press wouldn't touch us with a ten foot pole. Screw
'em. That's why we started our own publication in
the first place.
Risk
Reduction Programs 
350
volunteers donated over 27,000 hours for Danzine's
efforts since its inception--15,000 in the last three
years alone.
Multiply that by an outreach worker pay rate of $14/hour
and you realize we saved the county thousands of dollars
in labor alone. This does not take into consideration
the lives saved from our HIV/Hepatitis C prevention
programs and the distribution of medications required
to live with a virus or cure a sexually transmitted
disease before it ripples out to the community.
Creating a more informed public takes creativity.
It engages the written word, a piece of art, a live
performance or even a simple conversation woven with
self care messages. Danzine's risk reduction efforts
occurred in the dressing room, on stage, on the street,
in a van, on the phone, over coffee, over drinks,
with peers, with strangers and with family.
Danzine has run seven programs over the last eight
years, each program created to address a specific
need. We needed information in order to be more safe
in our personal and professional lives. Some of these
programs were the first of their kind and are now
being used as models for risk reduction efforts nation
wide, with a global impact.
1995
-- danzine A 'zine and independent publication,
danzine's art work and words were created by
the people it was meant for.
1996
-- DanceReach A self care program. Peer education
among dancers, lingerie models and escorts at the
work site. Information and supplies shared for health
care, disease prevention and vaginal care. Over
3,000 peers served.
1996
-- StreetReach A hepatitis/HIV prevention program.
Legal syringe exchange in Southeast Portland every
Friday evening in partnership with the County Health
Department. The program offered resources for disease
and unwanted pregnancy prevention for injection drug
users and survival based prostitutes, in addition
to referrals for detox and rehab. In 2001 we included
a mobile team in the downtown area. 183,650 used
syringes properly disposed of, with over 2,500 exchanges.
The County will continue the van every Friday night
on 82nd/Ash from 7:30 to 9 pm.
1998
-- Portland Bad Date Line (PBDL) Descriptions
of violent and abusive customers in the sex industry,
circulated as a printed sheet every month. This started
after one of our friends got hurt working as an escort.
We called all the ads in the adult monthlies, told
the girls we worked in town, had a friend with a bad
date, and did they want the description of the guy/motherfucker?
Most ladies said yes. Later the phone tree turned
into a printed sheet, and now over 40 agencies in
Oregon circulate it every month. Outside In is going
to run the PBDL from now on--I encourage you to call
in with an anonymous report if you don't want to deal
with the police: PBDL voice message number 503-535-0901.
2000
-- Hepatitis C Project This project was initially
created as a support group for women living with hepatitis
C after a dancer we knew came up positive. Then the
project turned into an information base for anybody
who wanted to know more about the virus. The goal
was to increase community awareness about the hepatitis
C virus, and to provide the support and resources
necessary to prevent and live with hepatitis C.
2001
-- Danzine Thriftstore Our purpose was to provide
affordable clothing, job training and a source of
income for the agency. Volunteers were trained to
both work in a resale shop and offer health supplies
and referral to community members on Lower East Burnside.
The store was open for eleven months and was a successful
fundraising tool. The store had to close because nobody
was going to insure us, factoring in the syringe exchange
program.
2002
-- Bio Hazardous Disposal Mobile Unit (Bio Babes)
Bio 
Babes
walked around and properly disposed of used syringes,
crack pipes and potentially hazardous material (like
a used bandaid) found on the streets surrounding the
thriftstore. The neighbors loved this one.
November
2002 -- Chief of Police Mark Kroeker signed a letter
thanking Danzine, Outside In and the local Harm Reduction
Coalition for conducting syringe exchange and helping
decrease the transmission of HIV in Portland.
*June
14th, 2003* The Last Fiesta!
A Danzine benefit on Saturday, June 14, featuring
live music by Storm and the Balls and DJ Dairy. Come
on down to Chinatown, Seven Stars Restaurant and Bar
on 205 NW 4th Ave. Sliding scale $10 to $1,000. A
buck off with a can of food. Food goes to Women's
Innercommunity AIDS Resource (WIAR). 21 years and
over with ID. Doors 9 pm. Sponsorship from the Willamette
Week.
All in all I'm glad Danzine happened, even when people
hated our guts for speaking up. Keep speaking up!
My mama so did not teach me to take shit. Why would
I start now? I sexertained to provide for myself.
Not to be a goddess. Not to be exploited. And I can
think of no better reason to fight for my rights then
when it comes to getting health care and a safe work
space. I mean, this is my LIFE we're talking about
here.
Come to the party in June. It's sure to be a blow
out. We'll have back issues available and Storm and
the Balls put on an awesome show.
Peace and anger,
teresa dulce
