I have been honest and forthcoming about working as a stripper during college, but there is more to me than that single experience. There is more to all of us than a single experience. Working Americans are often reduced to their occupation and shamed for making an honest living – former bartender, former stripper, former teacher, former truck driver…the list goes on and on. The stigma is that we do not exist outside of this label – we do not have names, we do not have loved ones, we do not have other noteworthy labels or experiences. We are reduced. The headlines in the media, the “clickbait” perpetuates this stigma.
When I was little, my dad explained that the way a lot of his students' parents treated him, they didn’t understand that he existed outside the confines of his classroom. They didn’t understand that he was a father, a husband, a son, a brother, a teammate. They didn’t know that he used to want to be a national park ranger, that he loved hiking, and his favorite dog breed was English Springer Spaniel. They didn’t understand that he had to grocery shop, do the dishes, and help fold laundry outside of grading papers. All my dad was to them was a history teacher.
Labels can be painful, reductive, and erase our humanity. I have fought against labels my entire life, especially for the sake of my twin brother. Yes, I am a former stripper, but I am also a caring neighbor, someone’s daughter, a protective twin sister, a loyal friend, a tireless activist, a soccer coach, a public health researcher, a dog mom, a Congressional candidate.
And my name is Alexandra Hunt.
So if you're ready to bring a voice back to working Philadelphians, please chip in a donation of whatever you can right now. We are running out of time until our May 17th primary and any amount matters to us a great deal.