What the F*ck is this?
Some of you will no doubt be familiar with Hoe Talks, the concept, the in-person or podcast programs, and/or the people behind it. Hopefully, this new venture is introducing a whole new audience to Hoe Talks and I’m reaching people who are completely confused by what’s going on here. Allow me to introduce you, past-, present-, and future-hoes, to Hoe Talks.
A Little History Lesson:
In 2015 when I first arrived at college I found myself doing a lot of talking and teaching. Listening to what the young women on my residence hall had to say, it became clear to me there was a lack of real conversation about sexual health and desire, and that young women knew very little about their bodies. Our culture had made us so uncomfortable talking about what we wanted that our knowledge and our ability to acquire knowledge was stunted.
I was lucky enough to have a great friend in High School, a queer-identified red-head with whom I was attached at the hip. She was incredibly curious, rebellious, experimental, and unafraid in ways I would only achieve later in life. In light of our glaring lack of feminist-inspired sex education she did her own reading and never faltered in bringing her newfound knowledge to the rest of us whenever the opportunity presented itself. She was really a trailblazer, and if I’m being honest one of the only reasons I had the courage to pursue this path. Thank you so much, sorry if you’ve never heard it in person.
My freshman year I took on that essential role in our little community — opening conversations about sex and wellbeing, feminism, body politics, and so much more that were critically lacking from our academic and social spaces. Eventually, my sophomore year, I got to a point where I was ready to turn these “hoe talks” into a formalized program and from there we hit the ground running.
I focused my individual research and feminist education on building a sexual politic that centered the most marginalized sexual actors in my community. This program attempted to integrate the personal, political, sexual, and sociological to create an inter-disciplinary curriculum that appealed to students with all types of sex-education needs.
It acknowledged that there is more to sex education than the purely medical; in order to make informed and intentional sexual decisions one must be aware of the social, mental, political, and other dynamics taking place within and around sexuality.
By my senior year and even after graduating the Black feminist curriculum that I had created was so popular that students at other schools were asking us to bring it to them. We eventually, we being Ahmad (one of my best friends and brightest co-conspirators) and I, started a podcast so that we could reach those other student populations. After being asked to return to campus to give a sex-education presentation this fall, my love for this work was re-invigorated by the reality that there is need for a hoe talk every now and again.
After taking a couple years to get my master’s degree in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies and focusing on thesis work, here I am again. Taking some time to grow, learn, and shift my focus I believe that I am in an even better place to do this work and I am so excited to pick it up again, to teach, love, and make love radically.
That brings us up to date.
What Now?
So what is Hoe Talks about in 2022? What should it be for young people (particularly Black gender minorities and LGBTQ+ folks) who are no longer in college, no longer seeking formal sex education, have evolved past the basic conversations we used to have and need a little more to invigorate their growing appetite? Hoe Talks is in the process of a distinctive evolution right now, a more distinctive turn than we took for the podcast (which is on it’s way back). We are not only seeking to engage our maturing audience where they are now, we are seeking to take them where they want and need to go moving forward. This means more politics, more side discussions, more sibling-hood, more everything than ever before and better than it ever was.
Hoe Talks: the blog is not like when Zoey Johnson, prodigal daughter of the sitcom Black-ish, went to college and got a spin-off (but failed to scratch the itch that it’s key demographic felt). We’re attempting to recreate Denise’s exit from the Cosby Show to do A Different World. Although originally a spin-off, the cast was so strong and popular that even when Denise left after the first season the show was allowed to become its own hilarious, heart-felt, stand-alone production lasting years beyond that departure.
That’s not to say that I’m passing this project off to a talented team of comedic actors, rather that building community, that back and forth, the banter and vulnerability necessary for a program’s success is the goal of this new iteration.
This is a project that has always been driven by the needs of its’ audience as well as the creators and teachers. In this space we are seeking the next step in our sex education AND genuine engagement and discussion; ultimately I want to reflect the folks that I am seeking to serve.
Hoe Talks: the Blog is meant to do a lot of what our podcast originally did: to reach a wider audience, cover a broader range of topics, and mature as we and our intended audience grow into this new period in our lives. It is also meant to really dig into that original curriculum and it’s biggest ideas, connecting political commitments, radical feminism, current events, healing, and so much more to the way we lead sexual (and asexual) and embodied lives.
So what does it mean to be a hoe?
For me, it means making a commitment to engage in sex intentionally and to engage the world around me as a powerful sexual agent with a commitment to freedom for myself and others. My sexual politic is something that has taken years to develop and is honestly still in progress — should always be a work in progress. It shifts, changes, and evolves along with me.
It entails a few simple rules, a code of conduct if you will, that I try my best to abide by:
Unpack Your Shame - Shame is a tool of powerful systems and the powerful figures that want to control us. My feminist politic is one that would question why shame around sex seems to center women, queer and transgender people, disabled people, racial minorities, and even poor/working class folks particularly? It’s bigger than kink-shaming, it’s about the reality that systems and powerful institutions encourage some types of sex and sexual behaviors, even reward them, and admonish others.
I constantly have to remind myself when I am feeling the shame that has been embedded into my everyday life and interactions, why do I feel this way? What have I done wrong? Who am I hurting?
There is absolutely nothing wrong with sexual desire, having and enjoying sex with other consenting adults, and the ways that we live our lives to express our multi-faceted sexualities. Unpacking these questions and achieving peace with sexuality is difficult and it takes a while, but each and every one of us should work on negating shameful thinking in our everyday lives and questioning shameful thoughts.
This also means unpacking the ways we are taught to shame others and the systems that enforce that shame, creating hierarchy. It means challenging ourselves to stop judging other people for the faults we find in their sexual (and reproductive) decisions. It also means thinking critically about what barriers may have led others to make certain decisions that we may have the luxury or luck to avoid. We should examine our society’s distaste for certain people because of the way we perceive that they engage in sex - the wrong way, the bad way, the immoral way. We must leave out-dated ways of engaging our embodied desires in the past if we ever hope to reach an equitable and sustainable future for hoes everywhere.
From celibates to single mothers to sex workers, shame hurts us all and we cannot be free of it until we stop comparing ourselves to others, shaming them to increase our own sense of self-worth. In order for any of us to be free, ALL of us must be free from stigma and the oppressive systems that shame upholds and strengthens.
Commit to Speaking Up and Speaking Out - For me the work of being a hoe in everyday life is the duty to radicalize everyone you meet. I speak only for myself, as a teacher, knowing that this is what I feel called to do in my life. I absolutely implore you to seek out what you feel called to do based on your principles, talents, and time — pursue that as a mode of community engagement. I try my best, when it is safe for me and others, to engage in critical conversation about sexuality, safety, health, wellbeing, feminism, etcetera with my community members.
It means that I don’t allow my family members to make comments about my body or anyone else’s unchecked, that I don’t allow anyone to speak about their romantic/sexual partners in a degrading way around me, and I try to constantly challenge my colleagues and co-workers to re-examine their worldview. When I am speaking in my personal circles with my friends I am honest, especially when it comes to their romantic and sexual pursuits: call out the red flags if you see them. I try to take every opportunity I am allowed to teach somebody something they didn’t know before, hoping they will pass it on and live in that new knowledge. I believe staying silent in the face of adversity, conflict, and strife has no benefit outside of protecting others for the moment.
That being said, it is important that you know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. Speaking up is important, necessary, and courageous but we must understand that if doing so puts ourselves or others in danger our duty in the moment may be to stay strategically silent and seek other forms of communication.
Care for Others - Taking care of other people in your community (and your bedroom) is a quintessential part of being a good hoe. There’s nothing worse than carelessness when you engage in sex and sexual liberation work. Any and all freedom fighting should start with a commitment to care. Starting from the most personal interactions, your engagement with others in a sexual relationship says a lot about who you truly are and what you stand for when no one is watching. Often we find ourselves faltering when it comes to upholding our values in our own lives, but it is so easy to love others and to be intentionally kind.
Make no mistake — I don’t mean that you have to love the people you have sex with and only have sex with people you’re in love with. What it does mean is that the people you have sex with — and anyone you meet — deserves to be shown love and respect. What you should try to build with anyone you exist in community with is not necessarily a romantic love, despite the presence of any romantic attraction, but rather we should pursue sibling-love, community-love, elder-love, etcetera with everyone. Caring for others means demonstrating that attitude from the first Bumble message to the hook up and beyond. There is a level of respect that each and every person you encounters deserves to receive, as long as they are willing to reciprocate.
In my everyday practice I’m aware of and make my partner’s aware of my STD status, ask what they like to do before, during, and after sex, give all the foot and back rubs, massage out a mid-coital Charlie horse, laugh off a fart, support folks through insecurity, ask about allergies and privacy concerns, etcetera, etcetera.
Practical love is different for everyone, but really depends on open and honest communication from the beginning.
Communicate and Uphold Your Boundaries - Boundaries are the cornerstone to any functional relationship, and an integral part of a hoe’s self care. If you can’t communicate and enforce your boundaries then hoeing around can be harmful.
To clarify, relationships can’t thrive without honesty and clear understanding of the rules of engagement. The most important place to start any relationship, platonic, purely sexual, romantic, or otherwise, is with a clear understanding of your boundaries and the weight of those rules. For my hoe life that always meant making my intentions for the relationship clear from the beginning, directly and verbally. I had to get into the practice of being very clear and reiterating those boundaries often, especially when they were about to change.
An undeniable truth about boundary-setting is that boundaries aren’t fences, they move and shift to accommodate the evolving nature of human relationships, feelings, and context. The ongoing conversation between yourself and a partner keeps all parties up to date on where you stand and what you need to thrive within that interaction.
Setting boundaries also means being strict in the aftermath of crossing, in the words of the incomparable Nene Leakes: “I said what I said” and your positive or negative boundaries should be respected. For example, you might prefer to have sex with the lights off for the time being, or maybe only the first few times while you get comfortable: boundaries exist in context and can change. You might never want to kiss on the lips, or hate giving head, or only be comfortable in certain positions: all of that is perfectly okay.
Ultimately, the most important way you can care for yourself while you hoe is by saying no and moving on. There are going to be folks who hear and want to challenge your boundaries, and there’s nothing wrong with asking for a little clarity or teasing out the context in which a boundary exists. That’s different than being ignored, disrespected, and subjugated to the desires of others. There is nothing more important than refusing engagement with people who care very little about your pleasure and comfort.
Lean on Your Peoples - If there is one essential tool in your hoe bag it’s community. There is nothing that hoes need more than other hoes, especially in this dangerous world that we live in. Checking in on one another is a revolutionary act that places collective responsibility for each of our wellbeing on the whole, the hoe collective.
For most of my life this has meant that I sent lots of information to the group chat, a hoe-friend, a family member, etc. Even when I was in high school sneaking around I always made sure somebody knew where I really was and who I was with. I shared my location, my estimated time of arrival and departure, photo IDs of my new boo, license plate numbers, social media, etc. Something so that my people knew who to call to question if something happened to me.
This is a practice all about reciprocity, interdependence, and community care. We cannot hoe safely or confidently on our own, we have a lot of safety and security in numbers and that critical information that we share. More than just sharing physical locations, meet up spots, government names, and addresses, keeping a close circle of hoes around you gives us the confidence to pursue sexual pleasure without fear of loneliness, insecurity, and undesirability as our friends keep us hyped, feeling good, and in great company.
This doesn’t necessarily mean inviting your nosy-ass friends into your grown-up business so they judge you. When I say a hoe-friend, I mean a hoe-friend: a fellow hoe. We should all seek out somebody or a group of somebodies in our lives with whom we can share responsibility for each others wellbeing and cheer each other on as we pursue sexual pleasure.
Sidenote: Keep at least one good friend who plays a mean detective; I cannot tell you how many times a hoe who can do her/their/his/zir research has kept me sane in the midst of being thoroughly dick-matized. If this is you, keep it up!
This hoe code has kept me honest with myself and accountable to the folks I engage with first and foremost; it’s not something I always live by perfectly but it does help me to examine my own actions and make good decisions in the long run. Nobody can live or hoe around perfectly, and nobody’s code needs to look exactly like this, but if you don’t engage sex with the attitude that we should be taking care of each other, then who does the relationship serve? Busting a nut is great but can never be as good as a nut that stems from mutual respect, understanding, compassion, and care (and comes with after-sex snacks).
In 2022 it is time to start engaging sex on a level past the physical (if it’s what you desire) and start engaging yourself and your community with the depth of accountability, care, critical thought, and understanding that every sexual relationship deserves.
Honorable Mentions:
Pack a hoe bag: condoms, dental dams, the strap, lube, toy cleaner, phone charger, candy underwear, wet wipes, contact solution, whatever you need!
Get tested regularly (and take your friends!): every 6 months for sexually active adults is the recommended frequency, look for free STD testing clinics in your area and make it a group activity with your hoe-friends.
Keep that same energy: Match energy with your partner(s). A lot of communication is non-verbal and if somebody is really putting in work to please you they deserve the same effort. If they aren’t get your nut and go to Waffle House.
Never be an Orgasm Martyr: Sex is about pleasing your partner AND yourself. Be sure to pursue your own pleasure and prioritize the parts of sex that you enjoy, your fantasies, and communicate when it’s doing nothing for you. Summary: We don’t fake orgasms, miss mama.
Wash your ass: no explanation needed.
Set the tone while you set the mood: talking about what you want never has to kill the mood, a little dirty talk is perfect foreplay. Enthusiastically going through your desires, boundaries, fantasies, and requests is important and fun.
Radicalize your fuck-buddies: don’t be afraid to speak your mind, lend a book here or there, or even go to a community organizing meeting together. Lovers are community members too and if we’re going to be free, we have to do it together.
Bring snacks + drink water: Good sex takes calories and hydration: fuck fuel.
A hoe never gets cold: That thigh slit is going to kill at the Christmas formal, you’re only walking from the car to the front door!
