by Abby Sher
She sat in a lot of cafés and walked miles through parks. The world was so different from what she remembered. She saw a bus stop with slick new benches and posters with movie stars she’d never seen. Young men were wearing baggy jeans and girls had their hair cut up to their ears. Maria cried for all the years she’d lost and all the things she didn’t know. She didn’t know how to drive. She didn’t know how to buy a metro card for the bus. She didn’t even know how to use a cell phone.
Her family and friends wanted to help, of course. Her sister insisted that Maria stay with her until she could get her own place. Maria had never been an adult outside of prison. She had all these new skills in computer science and social work, but no idea how or where to apply for a job.
Again, Maria’s mom said just a few words that made all the difference.
This time, though, it wasn’t about faith. Even though she still sang all the psalms and prayed regularly, Maria’s mom couldn’t get to church much anymore. She couldn’t really take care of herself anymore, either. She was tiny and seemed to be getting smaller each day. After losing her husband, she’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and was staying at Maria’s sister’s place, too. Her words came out jumbled and she often stood with her mouth half open, as if she were caught in the middle of a thought.
One day, Maria found her mom looking through the living room window, studying a neighbor who was mowing his lawn.
“Mommy, what are you looking at?” Maria asked.
Her mom scrunched up her eyebrows and put her tiny hands on her hips.
“That man has a big booty!” she exclaimed.
Maria laughed so hard. It was the first time she remembered laughing like that in forever. She picked up her mom, kissed her, and spun her around. It wasn’t poetic or wise, but it was exactly what Maria needed to hear. She needed to be able to look outside and laugh again.
“I can get up any time I want to. Eat whatever I want. Move things around. And Just. Be. Me. That’s what I like. The freedom to do as I please.”
~ Maria Suarez
Unlocking the Doors
When her mom died, Maria felt like she lost her best friend and lifelong cheerleader. She’d worked and prayed so hard for her freedom, and now that she had it, she lost the one person who meant the most to her. She truly felt her heart aching. She stopped listening to music, or caring about how she looked.
Charles Song, (the lawyer from CAST who’d fought so hard for Maria’s release), kept asking her to please come by the CAST offices. When she did, he saw how her face looked shadowed with sadness. He told her he would be her cheerleader now. He also introduced Maria to a network of other survivors and former inmates who were restarting their lives.
Maria was mesmerized by the survivors at CAST who spoke about what they’d been through with such strength and renewed faith in life. She thought she would never want to revisit those days in the old man’s house in Azusa. But as she spent more time at the CAST offices, she realized that sharing her past could be liberating not only for her, but also for countless people trying to heal.
The first time Maria tried to describe that house, she didn’t know enough words—in English or in Spanish—to express how terrified she was there. She was embarrassed to talk about the bottles on the altar and the voodoo dolls. She waited for people to say Why didn’t you just run? or There’s no such thing as witches. But the people at CAST were patient and respectful. They could tell there was much more than a bolted door keeping her in that house. She had been psychologically abused, too. Every day, hearing over and over again how he would kill her family and everyone she loved, beat her into submission.
After Maria started speaking at CAST meetings, she got a call from another anti-trafficking organization called Free the Slaves. They wanted her to be part of their documentary series on former slaves breaking free. As Maria sat, waiting for the camera crew to adjust the lighting and place her microphone, she wondered Is this really happening to me?
It was just as real as the moment she lay unconscious in the old man’s backyard or when she heard the judge’s conviction. It was just as real as when the bird tapped on the window in the prison cafeteria, or when she spun her mom in her arms. It was her new life as an orphaned but strong free woman, unlocking all those closed doors from her past. The more she spoke about what she’d been through, the less power those memories had on her.
She got a job in Los Angeles, counseling victims of domestic violence. She felt so attached to her clients and she admired the way they searched for independence. After each of her group therapy sessions, there was a clump of people waiting to talk to her, wanting one last bit of advice or just one of her warm whispers of You can do it.
The invitations kept coming in. Maria’s story was featured at anti-trafficking events all over the world. Everyone who met Maria knew immediately that she had an incredible spirit. Her smile took up her whole face, and she smelled like lilac perfume. Her favorite outfit became a black tank top, black pants, and a silver sequined belt and matching pocketbook. And every now and then, she even heard herself hum, or laugh.
“I think we are all equal. We should treat everybody the same—with love and respect. And value them as who they are. I love white, black, yellow, blue, green, purple, orange… I love people. That’s the whole thing—loving people. We don’t need to be so cruel.”
~ Maria Suarez
Peanut Butter Boba
John was waiting for Maria outside the counseling offices again.
“You sure?” he asked as he helped her put on her jacket.
“I’m sure,” said Maria. “But, thanks.”
“We can just go to city hall and celebrate with peanut butter bobas,” John said. This time he held the elevator door for her so she could get in first. He was a gentleman. That much she knew.
“John, I love you, but you know the deal.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “How about just the bobas then?”
“You’re on,” Maria said.
Peanut butter bobas were Maria’s favorite treat. Bobas are like milkshakes with tapioca balls on the bottom. There was a boba shop just around the corner from the domestic violence counseling center where Maria and John worked together. Maria thought John was hilarious and smart, even a little handsome. And John adored every minute he got to spend with Maria. He asked her to marry him every few days. And even though it stung a little, he understood and respected why she always said no.
Maria was clear that she could never be intimate with a man again after what she’d been through with her abuser. She had no sexual urges or desires anymore. That part of her had entirely shut down. She didn’t feel sorry for herself or even lonely. She had a lot of friends, both men and women. She found intimacy in quiet walks or shared meals.
Sitting in the boba shop that afternoon, she squeezed John’s hand and said, “This is all I want. Honest.”
They each got into their cars and drove home. Maria had a busy evening planned. First, she had to get back to Rialto, where she shared a house with one of her closest friends. Then Maria had to have a tickle fight with her three puppies, Lucky, Princess, and Snuggles. These were her “babies.” They wrestled on the floor until each of them was panting.
Maria went for a quick jog around the streets of Rialto. When she got back, she sliced up some cantaloupe, opened a tin of cookies, and put them both on blue plates in the middle of her dining room table. She filled glasses with cool water from her refrigerator. It was important to her that the MSF team was well fueled.
MSF stood for the new Maria Suarez Foundation, dedicated to the prevention of trafficking, and the rescue and restoration of trafficking victims.
Item number one on her agenda for that night’s meeting: Maria was thrilled to show the Advisory Board her new certificate of nonprofit status. The board was made up of friends, colleagues, and activists Maria had met in the past few years. They were each incredibly supportive, even though at the last meeting there
had been an argument about Maria biting off more than she could chew. Prevention, rescue, and restoration was a lot for a new group to tackle all at once.
But Maria had said it was her vision and she felt passionately about each step. There was no way to do one without the other. You educate. You get her out. And you empower her with the skills to live a better life.
Second on the agenda was a presentation from Maria’s new art director about logos. Maria had given some input already. She wanted an eagle to be soaring above the letters M, S, and F. Maria loved everything the eagle represented. She never forgot that bird tapping on her window to tell her she’d soon be free.
Item number three was an ongoing challenge: solution-building. This was Maria’s mission. This is what made her stomach burn with urgency and purpose. They went around the table and brainstormed new solutions for how to prevent, how to help, how to restore.
At some meetings, everyone had a new idea to offer.
At some meetings, the clock ticking on Maria’s stove was the only sound in the room.
At this meeting, Maria held her nonprofit status certificate in one hand and her new eagle logo in the other and said, proudly, “Let’s go. Let’s do this. Let’s make this a better world.”
We are all part of the movement
WHO
…is this happening to?
WHAT
…are we talking about?
WHERE
…is this going on?
WHY
…does this happen?
WHEN
…will we all be truly free?
HOW
…do we break the cycle?
NUMBERS
…we need to know.
NOW
…is the time for action.
WHO
…is this happening to?
“My hope is that young people change their language and the language of their peer group about women in the sex industry. There is a lot of revictimizing the victim and misunderstanding about what kind of ‘choice’ these women have.”
~Rachel Lloyd, Founder and CEO, GEMS
One of the most important things to understand about sex-trafficking survivors is that none of them wanted to go through this. Sometimes it happened to them because someone promised them food or shelter. Sometimes it’s because they were born into a society where they’re expected to be sexually used and abused. Sometimes it’s as simple or familiar as trusting the wrong boyfriend.
Here are just some of the people who are at high risk for sex trafficking.
Runaways
As many as 2.8 million children run away each year in the United States. The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children says that in those first two days of being solo, one out of every three of those children are lured into the sex trade.
One out of every three.
Remember: When someone runs away from home, it’s definitely a cry for help. Something at home feels unbearable, and whoever is the first person to promise a better alternative holds all the power, even if what he or she is offering sounds sketchy.
Intergenerational Prostitution
In a lot of places in the world, “tradition” is the excuse used to keep girls and women down. In India, 90 percent of girls born to sex workers are expected to be sold into the sex trade, too. It’s their “duty.” In societies like this, the boys are brought up to be pimps and the girls are expected to be their prostitutes. The girls can be as young as nine when they’re first sold, and their moms can be the ones bringing them to greet their first customers.
Undocumented Immigrants
Immigrants to the United States are super-easy targets for traffickers. When they’re new to America, they often don’t speak English. Or maybe they don’t have a job, they owe money to whoever helped them get here, and they have no legal protection because they’re not officially a citizen (yet). The most tragic part of this setup is that immigrants are often trafficked by people from their home country who steer them the wrong way or promise them an easy ride, and then make them work off their debt by forcing them into the sex trade.
“I was impressed by everything about him: his bicycle, his radio, his clothes. When I turned thirteen, he told me he wanted to marry me, and that he could make me a famous singer one day. I agreed.”
~ Ayesha, sex-trafficking survivor, Apne Aap
We also have to look carefully at who is doing the trafficking. According to the United Nations, 46 percent of victims know their recruiters. Here are some of the faces they wear.
Romeo
The Romeo Pimp is cunning and slick. Once he homes in on his target, he acts like her boyfriend and promises her the world. Romeo tells her she’s beautiful and sexy. A lot of times, he buys her expensive presents like cell phones and lingerie that make her feel really special. Then he tells her she’s beautiful some more, especially when she puts on lingerie and does a little shimmy. He thinks she’s so hot that he wonders if she’ll do a little shimmy for his friend. It’s just a joke, he says. Or it’s for a special occasion. But this is only the beginning. Romeo has big ideas for her and how beautiful and sexy she can be.
Dutch Loverboy
The loverboy of Holland is a special breed. Since prostitution is legal in the Netherlands if you’re eighteen or older, the loverboy preys on underage girls. He pretends to be an adoring boyfriend, doting on his girl with gifts and promises. Soon enough, he starts taking her down to a red light district and telling her this is just something fun they can try, or how it might help to make some money. Sometimes the girls he lures are even forced to work in the windows like sex dolls for sale.
Sex Tourist
Instead of going to see the pyramids in Egypt or surf the waves of Costa Rica, some people travel to another country to buy sex. They might go somewhere where they know the government ignores sexual abuse, where prostitution is legal, or where there is extreme poverty and police corruption. Brazil, Thailand, and the Caribbean islands are hotspot destinations for this kind of customer. Some sex tourists even blog about how many sex workers they have slept with during their travels, and they acquire a reputation as a sort of travel agent and pimp at the same time.
Guerrilla
This is the one who most often makes it into the news. The Guerilla is the guy who lurks in a van or who corners his prey in the public bathroom and uses force to kidnap his victims. A Guerilla will threaten his victim with knives, guns, or the promise that he’s going to kill her whole family if she so much as thinks of calling the police. Then he locks her up in his basement or keeps moving her to different locations so nobody can find her. When the Guerilla is finally captured and his victim is freed, a lot of times there are eerie testimonials from neighbors who say something like I had no idea he had girls in his basement. He was always such a nice, quiet guy.
WHAT
…are we talking about?
This is a small glossary of terms used by traffickers and survivors of trafficking. When we can all use the same language, we can communicate and hopefully empathize with one another a lot more.
Abolitionist: Anyone who speaks out for freedom and fights for social justice.
AFESIP: Somaly Mam’s organization dedicated to rescuing and rehabilitating women who have been trafficked. In French, AFESIP stands for Agir Pour les Femmes en Situation Précaire, or, in English, Acting for Women in Distressing Situations.
Bottom: The girl or woman who’s been with a pimp/trafficker the longest. Because she knows the ropes, she gets to be a sort of boss’s assistant and control the other victims. This can often mean the bottom starts recruiting new girls, too.
Brothel: Any place where people can buy sex. A lot of times brothels are hidden in the back of hotels or cafés. They can also be disguised as spas, massage parlors, bars, strip clubs, or truck stops.
Brujo: The Spanish word for male witch. This word is often associated with witches who practice black magic. Black magic is defined as witchcraft that is used for evil pu
rposes to intentionally harm others, like hexes or curses.
Caste: A division by social class. According to UNICEF, about 250 million people are divided into castes. In a lot of places, your caste determines whom you get to talk to or marry, and also how much money and what kind of jobs and education you can get. Some of the castes in India have intergenerational prostitution as a longstanding tradition.
Coercion: All the ways traffickers keep their victims in the sex trade. Coercion can be verbal, psychological, and/or emotional. Sometimes it’s also threats of harm to the victim or victim’s family, or threats of deportation and arrest. A lot of times the victim’s things are taken away, including phone, keys, and identification, so s/he has no way to contact anyone familiar or reach out for help.
Commercial sex act: Any sex act that includes an exchange of money, food, drugs, shelter, or higher status in a gang. This includes but is not limited to prostitution, exotic dancing, stripping, and pornography.
CPS: Acronym for Child Protective Services, an agency in many states of the U.S. that deals with any reports of child abuse. In some states, CPS goes by another name such as Department of Children and Family Services (DCFS), Department of Social Services (DSS), or Social Services.
CSEC: Acronym for Commercial Sexual Exploitation of Children. CSEC includes but is not limited to prostitution, pornography, sex tourism, and other forms of human trafficking. If the victim is younger than eighteen in the United States, there’s no need to show s/he was forced into the situation to be considered a victim of trafficking.
Debt bondage: When a victim is told s/he owes a debt to the trafficker and has to work until it’s paid off. Usually there is no limit to what type of work or how long the victim is enslaved. The United Nations calls debt bondage a form of modern-day slavery. It’s prevalent in South Asia and India.
