December 17 Day 11: Art as Resistance

The Power of Creation in the Face of Erasure

Art has always been one of the fiercest weapons of survival for sex workers. When our histories are erased, art rewrites them. When the world refuses to see us, art makes us visible. When grief threatens to swallow us whole, art transforms it into something we can hold, share, and use to fight back.

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On December 17, as we remember those taken by violence, we also honor the beauty and power that emerge from within our communities - the murals that reclaim the streets that pushed us out, the poetry that tells truths no courtroom ever would, the portraits, zines, and altar pieces that insist: we were here, we are still here, and we will not disappear quietly.

Art has never been a luxury for us - it has been a lifeline.

More Than Expression - A Record of Resistance

Throughout history, sex workers have turned art into archive and protest. In the 1970s, COYOTE (Call Off Your Old Tired Ethics) printed newsletters filled with cartoons, poetry, and essays written by sex workers themselves, reclaiming narratives that mainstream media distorted. In the 1980s and 1990s, visual artists like Annie Sprinkle and Margo St. James blurred the line between art and activism, using performance, photography, and humor to challenge stigma and expose hypocrisy.

Today, that legacy continues. From digital illustration collectives that create safer online spaces to street murals memorializing the names of the murdered, to drag, dance, music, and spoken word, sex worker art continues to say what statistics and headlines cannot. It documents joy, rage, and defiance. It becomes both memorial and map - showing us where we’ve been and where we’re going.

Every brushstroke, every verse, every photo is an act of reclamation. It says: you cannot tell our story without us.

Art as Healing, Art as Movement

In our movement, art is not just symbolic - it’s survival strategy. It helps us process trauma in ways the system never will. It builds solidarity across borders and generations. It reminds us that we are whole, complex, creative beings - not just victims or case files.

Art can do what policy cannot: reach hearts, spark empathy, and create belonging. A quilt stitched with the names of the fallen holds the grief of a community in tangible form. A mural painted on a wall once used for police “sting” operations transforms a site of violence into one of visibility and pride. A performance on a tiny stage can speak louder than a thousand policy briefs.

This is what “art as resistance” looks like - turning mourning into movement, and beauty into a demand for justice.

Why It Matters on December 17

December 17 is both a vigil and a vision. As we read names and light candles, art gives us another language - one that transcends statistics and headlines. It allows us to imagine the future we’re fighting for: one where sex workers can create, thrive, and be recognized as the artists, innovators, and culture-makers we’ve always been.

Art connects us across time zones and borders. It keeps our fallen alive in memory and our movement alive in color. When we raise our red umbrellas, we raise symbols that were first designed by sex workers themselves - our art, our resistance.

Action Steps

🎨 Honor: Visit exhibits, digital galleries, or social media pages featuring sex worker art. Learn the stories behind each creation.

🎭 Support: Buy directly from sex worker artists, performers, and makers. Your purchase sustains more than art - it sustains survival.

📢 Amplify: Share sex worker–led zines, playlists, films, and installations. Tag and credit the creators.

🖌️ Create: Whether through writing, painting, or dance, contribute your own voice. Art is not reserved for professionals - it belongs to the people.

Reflection

Art is memory. Art is protest. Art is how we keep breathing when the world tries to choke us with silence.Every painting, every poem, every tattoo and altar is proof that we were never voiceless - just unheard.

On December 17, we honor not only those we’ve lost, but the creators, makers, and storytellers who continue to turn pain into purpose. Because in our world, art is not an afterthought - it’s a survival tool, a declaration of existence, and the heartbeat of resistance.