END OF INNOCENCE

Grey Street, St Kilda. It's about midnight on a cold Thursday night, and sex
workers are gathered around the community health bus accepting hot coffee,
syringes, condoms, lubricant, muesli bars and, when they ask for it, advice.

A woman with tired, glassy eyes gratefully sips a cup of soup: "I haven't
eaten for two days,'' she says.

Another has briefly stopped trying to catch the attention of the men who
slow their vehicles to a crawl as they pass by. Over a smoke and coffee she
agrees with those who tell of a recent rise in the number of under-age girls
prostituting themselves on the streets.

"There was a girl in a school uniform working down here this afternoon,''
she says.

None of the group is surprised by this, although long-time youth worker
Peter Wearne later clarifies: "Just because she was wearing a school uniform
doesn't mean she was a schoolgirl. Some of the girls wear them because the
men like them.''

No clarification, however, is needed of the fact that concerning numbers of
under-age girls and boys are involved in Melbourne's illegal sex trade.

The inner-south community youth health bus is staffed by two people for its
Thursday night journeys along St Kilda's dimly-lit streets. Peter Wearne,
from the Youth Substance Abuse Service, and community health nurse Carol
Edwardes are regulars. The Age spent one late shift last month with the
pair, as they made contact with 45 street sex workers.

Very few of those contacted were under 18, but many of the women and men who
sought a coffee or some other form of assistance agreed that increasing
numbers of young people are selling their bodies on the streets.

"It's all about heroin, mate, young girls doing sexual favors for heroin,''
one man says before fading back into the shadows.

"Sometimes I think we are all just sleepwalking and one day our consciences
will wake up.''

Earlier in the evening, as the bus pulls away from "Sally'', a 16-year-old
whose sex work has already caused her health problems, Peter Wearne cannot
hide his anger.

"These are our beautiful drug laws at work here. If you had a 16-year-old
daughter with a heroin problem you'd really want to see her prostituting
herself in St Kilda, wouldn't you,'' he fumes.

Part of the problem, he says, is that people are blind to what's happening.

"You talk to people about this stuff and they can't believe it's happening
in Melbourne.''

And then there's the fact that few support services are available after 8pm.
Funding is not available to keep staff working into the night.

The laws are clear: street prostitution is illegal in Victoria. Those over
18 can work in licensed brothels, where regular health check-ups are
mandatory and drug users are banned. But prostitutes caught working the
streets can be arrested for soliciting - their clients can be charged, too.

Barred from working in legal brothels, under-18s gravitate to the seedier,
more dangerous side of the industry. They work the streets, where they are
extremely vulnerable, risking violence and exploitation.

Welfare workers identify characteristics common to many under-age sex
workers: some are the subjects of protection orders and known to the
Department of Human Services; they have abusive backgrounds and drug
addictions.

Many are homeless and lack financial support. Their lifestyles lead to
health problems, and so the vicious cycle continues.

Not that there are any hard and fast rules. Kim Rayner, a community health
nurse who has worked a fortnightly late shift on the youth health bus for
two-and-a-half years, says some young people drift in and out of sex work,
only resorting to it when they're desperate for cash.

Others, she says, appreciate they can make relatively good money as
prostitutes, and do so by choice. While others exchange sex for
accommodation, food or drugs in a complex web of relationships some might
deem to be exploitative.

"I come into contact with young people who at some point may have engaged in
sex work as a transaction - they don't see themselves as sex workers. It may
have been a one-off thing and they'll describe it completely differently.
It's not like they're continuing to go out and do that,'' Rayner says.

"Others choose to do sex work, and it's normally because they need a lot of
money, every day, to maintain a habit.''

And then there are the grey areas. The young people caught up in situations
that are not easily definable. Rayner gives the example of a homeless girl,
15, striking up a sexual relationship with a man in his early 20s, who in
turn provides shelter and food. Is this sex trade or a girlfriend/boyfriend
relationship?

The man, of course, holds power over the girl's wellbeing, and she is at a
different developmental stage, but shouldn't issues of free will and choice
also be considered?

A recent national study into the extent of young people's involvement in the
sex trade reported that at least 3700 young people under 18 - including 1800
in Victoria - were confirmed to be, or believed to be, selling sex for their
livelihood.

The study, by the Australian branch of End Child Prostitution, Pornography
and Trafficking (ECPAT), was partially funded by the Victorian Department of
Human Services and involved a survey of 451 agencies working with young
people.

ECPAT found that while there was no evidence of a widespread, organised
child sex industry in Australia, young people were trading sex for money,
accommodation, drugs or food.

Paula Fitzgerald, who worked on part of the study, says society is failing a
body of its youth.

"Support services for young people seem to be contracting. Housing support,
which is so vital, is getting so hard to find,'' she says.

"Some young people - through no fault of their own - find it impossible to
live at home. What does it mean to them when we withdraw services that are,
frankly, urgent?''

Other researchers are less sure about the numbers of young people involved
in the illegal sex industry. Priscilla Pyett, a Deakin University researcher
who has studied the industry, says it is extremely difficult to quantify how
many youths are involved in prostitution.

"But the key issue is they are out there and they're extremely vulnerable
and very unprepared for the circumstances they find themselves in,'' Pyett
says.

The police are guarded on this subject. The head of the Child Exploitation
Unit refused to be interviewed, but said through a spokesman: "If people
know this is happening they should let police know. We get very little
information from the public to alert police to this.''

Kim Rayner says it can be difficult to identify the age of people working
the streets. But if she suspects a street sex worker is under 18, she is
required by mandatory reporting laws to notify the Department of Human
Services.

"You notice the young ones come and go and they move really quickly because
they know people are looking for them - they're really covert,'' Rayner
says.

"This group are really vulnerable and really marginalised. They're working
to gain money in an area where they don't really have support in terms of
safety and security and protection. Some of the stuff you hear... it's
pretty horrendous what happens to them.''

One small indicator of the violence and abuse encountered by street sex
workers is the broken egg shells that litter their beats - legacy of the
yobbos who get their kicks driving from other suburbs to hurl insults, and
other things, at the women.

But the workers all tell you that some men inflict much worse wounds, like
bashings and rapes.

At first glance there seems to be a camaraderie on the streets. Women who
leave their beats to share a coffee at the community bus crack jokes about
the nature of their work and clients. They apparently band together, jointly
yelling at the carloads of young men slowly cruising past for a perve.

Then one recounts the story of an acquaintance who died on the street after
collapsing from a heroin overdose. "Another girl came up and stole her
money - how low is that?'' she says.

Peter Wearne sees the street banter for what it is.

"It's really dog-eat-dog. There's no honor among thieves or the oppressed.
That's not because they're bad people, it's because they've got no choice,''
he says.

"It's not a moral judgment, it's to do with their circumstances. The truth
is when they get on the bus they're all incredibly polite and reasonable
people... and they're amazingly resilient.''

Older, experienced sex workers fear for the safety of the new breed of brash
youngsters joining them on the streets.

"They might talk tough but they're really vulnerable,'' one says.

It's not uncommon, says Wearne, for the girls to be "protected'' by their
boyfriends. The guys stay in their cars, noting down the registration
numbers of the clients' cars - ready to take action if the worker fails to
be returned by a designated time.

"A lot of people get fussed about that,'' he says. "But the way I see it, at
least they're out here trying to look after the women. Better than sitting
at home on the couch waiting for the money to be brought in.''

Clearly, the issues involved in assisting such young people are complex. The
ethics are not black or white, and the workers, while caring passionately
about the people involved, have to be careful not to become blinded by their
own agendas.

Most important, says Kim Rayner, is respect.

"I'm really optimistic and like to think a lot of the young people will move
on to whatever they want to do,'' she says.

"It will be a hard slog to get there, but I like to think there's some hope
out there."

Checked-by: Rolf Ernst