Everyone seems to be wondering how to begin the complex process of helping London’s sex workers. I can tell you. First, you stop judging.

Most of my own experience with sex workers comes from my time in Toronto. I roomed with a female escort for a while and hung out with a lot of others. Later, I lived in the area of both the “high track” (the high-end street girls) and the “tranny stroll” (the area frequented by transsexual prostitutes).

I remember how the sex workers were seemingly targeted by everyone for derision.

When the gay community was still squabbling with the police over this and that, a group of gay activists tried to set up a committee representative of the community to liaise with the police. The police made it very clear they would not meet with anyone who was a sex worker “or likewise of questionable character.”

This was a common sentiment across the political spectrum at the time, left, right and centre.

The residents in the tranny stroll were more concerned about their property values than anything else. At first, they hounded the police day and night to do something about the problem. Then, when they finally realized it was a low priority for the cops, they took to directly harassing the sex workers with bullying, threats and intimidation.

The ladies on the high track were something of a sightseeing spectacle. It was common for groups of young men to hang out their car windows and catcall the women. The women mostly took it in stride and laughed it off, or very graciously gestured their affection for the boys with their middle finger.

But sometimes it wasn’t so funny.

One afternoon, I was walking down the street and heard a woman screaming. I turned around to see two men trying to drag one of the female escorts into the back of a van. She fought them off and broke free, and then the men split in a hurry.

It was over in a second, before anyone could do anything.

But it really could have been over in a second. Had she not broken free, that might have been the last time anyone ever saw her.

This pretty much sums up how people view sex workers: Either as a person of low moral standing, an annoyance, a joke or a target for victimization.

But in getting to know a number of them, I can tell you they are much more multidimensional than that.

First, they are people. They are daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters; they have people who love them, just like anyone else.

Second, there is a reason they are out there.

The No. 1 reason, as far as I can tell, is a history of some kind of abuse. They have either been badly mistreated and are fleeing a dangerous situation, or an abusive past has led them to self–medicate with some type of substance, which only compounds the problem.

I’ve known many sex workers who claim they are not victims and they do what they do as a choice. To that I say, yes and no. The fact is there is only one reason they do it — for the money. If they didn’t need the money, they wouldn’t be making that “choice.”

Some of them need the money for drugs and alcohol, some of them need that next trick or they won’t be eating that day, and others just need to pay the bills like the rest of us. But the bottom line is the same; they do it because they need cash.

I have never met a sex worker who was doing it for the kicks or because “they like sex,” as some would have you believe. In fact, some would have us believe that this is a lifestyle choice. This type of thinking is precisely what leads us down the road to character judgments.

Take a look at the individuals walking the streets in East London and you’ll quickly conclude that this is not the millionaire’s club and that no sane person would conclude that these were not individuals in distress of one type or another.

So I say the first step we take in trying to help the sex workers of London is to first open our minds and hearts, and then offer assistance without passing judgement on the individual.

Joseph Couture is a London author. www.josephcouture.com