
As I left off the last posting, we had just begun our short stint in the greater Chicago area. Our time in Chicago proved to be very full, but provided for some new insights regarding human trafficking in our nation. Previously we had been told about some studies pointing to Chicago as the #1 city for human trafficking in the United States. As you will often find with statistics on this sort of topic, they are hard to verify; but nonetheless, there is much information pointing to Chicago as a definite hotspot within our nation. Though the current situation may not be enjoyable to stomach, during our few days in the area, we were encouraged to see many innovative strategies that are beginning to be contrived and enacted.
Similar to the work we saw in Phoenix, it was evident there is a notable amount of co-operation taking place in eradicating crimes of sexual exploitation in the Chicago area. Interviewing representatives from Chicago Coalition for the Homeless, Prostitution Alternatives Round Table, Chicago Alliance Against Sexual Exploitation, and End Demand Illinois, we became aware of the collaboration that is taking place to practically address the demand that is present for the use of sexual services. Often, with prostitution in most cities, there is often a cyclical pattern of arresting women involved with prostitution, and returning them back to the streets. However, Chicago is trying to take a stance of arresting the men who are purchasing such services – an approach that originated in Sweden. You can read more about the influence of the Swedish legislation here. This stance does NOT legalize prostitution; rather, it simply points to the need to get to the root cause of the prostitution, which is the demand for the supply. If there weren’t such a demand for prostitution, there wouldn’t be such a need for a supply (of human beings.) It is important to note that this has not been enacted into the written legislation of Illinois, or even Chicago for that matter, but for now this is the stance they are taking in actively, practically addressing the issue as they encounter it on their streets.
Our last night in Chicago we had the opportunity to partner with Breakthrough Urban Ministries – a group of people who basically take an RV out into some of the most impoverished areas of Chicago to open their doors to whoever may be in need of assistance, a bit of food, or just someone to talk to. Many of the women in the area have been victimized by prostitution at some point, and quickly came in to escape the biting cold of the breezy Chicago night. They were happy to have people to talk to who wanted to hear how they were doing, who wanted to hold their hands and pray, who wanted to take care of basic practical needs.
At one point, Autumn and I followed along with Brenda, the woman who leads the ministry, and Tom, another man from the group, as they went for a quick walk up and down the street (in a neighborhood I would never be able to walk through by myself) to see who else was out on that particular evening. We ran into one girl with whom Brenda had known from her previous years of work in the area.
I found myself looking at a face that had almost forgotten how to smile. When Brenda would ask how she was doing, the girl, probably in her mid-twenties, would bring her lips to smiling for a brief moment, only to have them revert once again into sadness. No matter how hard she tried, she could not maintain a even a guise of happiness for more than a split second. Her expression would continue to go back and forth, grin to gloom, hinting at an idea of happiness, only to return to the reality of depression.
And these are the people we are talking about when we talk about those who are victims of abuse, of exploitation, of human trafficking, of prostitution. Previously, it was hard for me to associate these stories to any sort of reality, when an overwhelming majority of what I come into contact with are numbers. Before leaving the girl, who told us she had to get going, Brenda gave her a small gift of some toiletries, her contact information, and then Autumn and Brenda prayed with her as Tom and I stood to watch their backs. It was a quiet moment – it wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t glorious – but it was so evident as we stood there, in person with someone who was so hungry for something real, that we belonged there, with her. Things made a lot more sense as we were standing on the run-down concrete sidewalk near this woman – a lot more sense than things make when you hear the estimates of 16 to 25 thousand people that are being prostituted on a nightly basis in the city of Chicago. She is just one.
We saw in that moment, that she, a single person, mattered. I must learn to see this epidemic not as numbers, graphs, or pie charts – but as individuals that matter. There are so many humans, dying to have someone come stand with them in the wind, in the cold, in the streets – where they are. Do we see them as people, or do we see them only as prostitutes, untouchables?
Briefly after our time in Chicago, we spent a couple days in Michigan, mainly for an interview with Theresa Flores, who, 23 years ago, when she was in high school, found herself caught up in a trafficking-ring in a wealthy, upper-class neighborhood in Detroit. She came from a middle-class family with two parents – by all means a normal looking family. She became caught up in a group of people who forced her to sneak out of her home at night to be used and abused at the hands of men who, judging by their large, elaborate, nice homes, were fairly well established in their communities. During the time, she was unable to speak out as she was held captive by the fear that if she spoke up, her family would be killed, abused, or expelled from their favorable social standing in their community. So she would endure the abuse, attending high school each day, no one around her able to imagine where she could have been the night before. After a couple years of being trapped into consistent abuse, when her father’s job took her family elsewhere, she was able to escape the abuse.
Theresa certainly had a lot to work through before getting to the point where she could share her experiences with others. Eventually she graduated college, and over the last couple years, she has published accounts of her experiences in her books, The Sacred Bath: An American Teen’s Story of Modern Day Slavery, and The Slave Across the Street: The True Story of How an American Teen Survived the World of Human Trafficking. Furthermore, she is also touring throughout the states to share her story in whatever venues are open to having her share. Soon she is looking to launch a new, licensed restoration facility by the name of Gracehaven, by which she intends to bring physical, mental, and spiritual healing to mainly under-aged kids who are escaping lives plagued by sexual exploitation. This definitely looks to be a facility that is worth watching in the years to come as they seek to establish a holistic system of care and rehabilitation for the children who are fortunate enough to escape the snares of such a dark industry.
As a team, we will be residing for the next week or so in Toano, Virginia (a suburb of Williamsburg) at the home of our producer/narrator, Morgan Perry. So far, we have presented the project to Morgan’s home congregation, which was a very well attended event, and provided a lot of outlets for further discussion, prayer, and brainstorming on the topic. Also, there are a couple opportunities for us to present our work to the entirety of the Communications Department at Regent University, as well as Christian Broadcasting Network (CBN). I will try to post some links if we get videos from either of these engagements. In addition to celebrating Thanksgiving, we will also be processing and transcribing footage we have captured up to this point (a task that is most often extremely tedious) until we head to Washington D.C. on December 2nd.
For now, please enjoy any turkey and/or any family get-togethers you may be attending this week. Extra points may potentially be awarded for those of you who dress up in 17th century Pilgrim or Native American attire.