Friday, March 15, 2013
What does marriage mean? By Erika Lewis
On a day just like any other school day, Zane was sitting at the school bus stop, waiting for the bus that would take him home. Usually Zane was in a good mood while he waited for the bus because he was looking forward to playing with his dog and talking to his moms about his day.
Zane wasn’t happy today. Tear stains still covered his face, even though he had tried to wipe them off at the end of school. He was thinking about what had happened that day at recess. Some of Zane’s classmates had been talking about their families and how many brothers and sisters they had. Zane told them about his moms and their dog, Lucy.
“Two moms can’t get married,” Sam had said. “My dad told me that’s illegal!” Many of the other kids had agreed.
“But my moms are married,” Zane had tried to explain. “They had a ceremony and everything.”
Sam said, “My dad says that’s against the law, and two moms can’t do that.” Kelly nodded and said, “That’s what my mom and dad said too when I asked them.”
Zane was sad and confused by what his classmates had said to him. He knew that if a person did something to break the law, they could get in trouble. He was pretty sure that his moms were good people—they loved him and cared for him—so why would they break rules that would get them in trouble? As he sat on the bus, Zane was imagining police cars racing down his street to take away his moms from him because they had broken the law by getting married.
Has something like this ever happened to you? Maybe it’s happened to one of your friends. It can be so scary to think that your family might be illegal. But the truth is that a family with two moms or two dads is not breaking any rules. It’s not illegal. The other kids in Zane’s class are confused, and now Zane is confused, too. Zane is upset because he thinks that his moms are married illegally. He’s afraid that they will get in trouble, and maybe the police will come get them.
What can you do if someone at school tells you that your family is illegal? How could you help a friend who was confused about families with two moms or two dads? The first thing is to understand why some kids (and even some adults!) might be confused.
When two people are married to each other, it means that they want to live together and share their lives with each other for a very long time. Sometimes it means that they want to have kids together and raise a family.
Some people think that the word “marriage” can only mean the commitment between a man and a woman. But many other people think that “marriage” can mean commitment between any two people who love each other and want to share their lives for a long time.
When two people get married, the government helps them in a lot of ways. Sometimes the government makes it less expensive for someone in the family to go to the doctor when he or she is sick. Sometimes they can make it easier for the two married people to buy a house together. Sometimes they make it easier for them to have children or to adopt children if that’s what they want to do. These good things that help married people be together, or raise a family, are called “benefits.”
In most places, the government only gives these benefits to a man and a woman who get married to each other. In these places, two men or two women who get married do not get these benefits from the government. This is what people mean when they say that it’s not “legal” for two women or two men to get married in those places. It means that they can’t get benefits from the government. In the United States, and in many other countries, it doesn’t mean that they are breaking the rules, or that they could get in trouble for loving each other, or wanting to share their lives for a long time, or raising a family together.
In some countries (like Canada and Norway) and a few states in the United States (like Massachusetts and Vermont), two men or two women can receive these kinds of benefits, or good things to help them raise a family, when they get married to one another. In many other states and countries around the world, people are working to change the laws so that they are fair for all families. They want the government to help all families equally.
So what if someone tells you or a friend that families with two moms or two dads aren’t legal? What could you do or say?
The first thing is to tell yourself, or your friend, that your moms or your dads are not going to get in trouble because they are married. They are not breaking any rules because they love each other and are raising a family together.
It might be true that the government where you live does not give families with two moms or two dads the same benefits that it gives families with a mom and a dad. But your moms or dads, or your friend’s parents, are having a terrific family without those benefits, and nobody can take that away from them or from you.
Next, you might want to get some help from a grown-up. You can always talk to your moms or dads to get help understanding what’s true about marriage and the government where you live. If you’re at school, you could ask for help from a teacher. No matter what people think is true about families, it’s not okay for anybody to say mean things to you at school.
There might be some things you can do at school, if you want to, to make sure that your school is a fair place for all families. This is something you can talk about with your parents, your teachers, and your friends. It’s also okay if you just want people to leave you alone about your family.
If you want to do more to make marriage equal for all families, you can read on Rainbow Rumpus about what some other kids have done. Marina Gatto and Jeff DeGroot both have two moms, and both of them have worked hard to make a difference for their families and other families with two moms or two dads. You can also check out the website for Children of Lesbians and Gays Everywhere (COLAGE) at www.colage.org—there are lots of ideas there.
No matter what you choose to do, the most important thing of all is to know inside that your parents love each other and you and that no one can take that away.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Dai's Story
Hi my name is Dai,* I’m a survivor of human trafficking and exploitation. I have experienced the harm that these forms of violence inflict on those of us who have been sexually exploited. Let me tell you a little history about my life. I have been an American for nearly 21 years. Abused as a child, I made a promise to myself that I would never be abused again. As I continue with my speech, I’m here to share my story specifically regarding my traumatic experience in the sex trafficking.
One question that has always perplexed me is the need to share my experiences, and what I witnessed in Las Vegas without exploiting myself. An integral part of my story is that I, and many other minority women, whether American or not, were shipped from state to state in order to provide specific services for men. It has been stated by many that the sex industry has been divided into two distinct classifications: prostitution and trafficking. I encourage you to listen to my story as I reveal to you why I believe they are one and the same.
In 1995, I fell in love with a military man, who persuaded me to move with him to an undisclosed remote area. There, I was raped and beat continually while handcuffed to a door of an abandoned house. Eventually, through circumstances, I made my escape, but not before he had confiscated my naturalization papers, driver’s license and social security card. With no proof of my identity, I could not acquire adequate shelter. I felt like an animal that has been cast into the street. My life became a scenario of sojourning from one homeless shelter to another.
One day, I was approached by a middle-aged woman who had been watching my every move. Unaware that she was a (Female Pimp), she insisted that I come and work for her in the Escort Service (she assured me that it was only a dating service). My unawareness of this proposition was so overwhelmed by my need for food, money and clothing that I desperately accepted her offer. After several weeks I found myself well provided for and economically stable. Then the unthinkable happened: a client bargained me for sex. After I refused his offer, he grabbed me by the hair, forced me on the floor and raped and beat me. In terror, I fled to the police to report the violence. To my astonishment, the police informed me that I had no rights because I had attained the status of a “street-walker”.
Eventually, the female pimp who recruited me sent me to this gentleman who worked in Nevada where my experience in Human Trafficking began. To this day, I am still haunted by flashbacks regarding certain smells, as well as cold floors which numbed my bare feet. Many times, panic ensues when I find myself in a line of women; it resurrects the nightmares of all the humiliating inspection line-ups I had to endure. We were constantly paraded before a potential client; their lustful eyes examining and perusing us before we became final choices for each predatory customer.
Being Korean, I remember the time when a prejudiced ‘john’ demanded that I dress as a Japanese prostitute/geisha. My vulnerability was made complete when I was taught to speak broken English, fulfilling the racist image of exoticism. Although, I was one of the few that spoke and understood English, my required masquerade as a foreigner brought more money to the Master through harboring of immigrants.
There is no difference between trafficking and prostitution when innocent women and children are being harbored for the sole purpose of the commercial sex trade. Exploiters and pimps are always violating the rights of these victims who are pursuing their freedom to escape from harm.
In reality, no female desires to be a part of this nightmare. Most of us were incarcerated in basements, underneath casinos and in abandoned warehouses. Our desperate cries for help were silenced by the walls, which separated us from the rest of the world. While tourists roamed the streets of Las Vegas admiring the architectural beauty and the celestial lights, which permeated the night sky, we, the victims, were in perpetual fear for our lives.
The Master, knowing full well that I was an American, forced me to work both the Escort and the Trafficking. If I refused or didn’t comply, I was taken underground and sentenced to various methods of punishment. The vividness of this maltreatment brought back such childhood nightmares of the times I was locked in a closet. Each of these two scenarios mirrored the same cries for freedom; after all, I was the submissive little foreign girl who was threatened not to tell anyone. In both cases, my guilt-ridden confessions of bad behavior resulted in my temporary release. On my knees, I had to convince my Master that I would be on my best behavior. After hours of interrogation, I was given permission to return to do what I did best; being a concubine, and deluding myself into thinking that I enjoyed it.
I was involved in trafficking for more than six months. I compare that time to being held hostage in a timeless existence where my mind engaged itself in disassociation with my soul. This mental state was the only way in which I could keep any sanity. Repeatedly, I witnessed the beatings, rapes and murders of innocent women. At times, my tears of hopelessness would drown me into a pathos of my own execution. How could my own country not be aware of these cruelties? How could this kind of discrimination and slavery be given the power to blind immigrant and American women of their rights? The frustration of these and other questions echoed within my catatonic mind.
Most of the time we were transported by trucks with drivers who were not naive to our purpose, and well informed of our identity. After months of these transports for trafficking our self-images had been reduced to cattle being loaded on a cattle car. Thousands of dollars were exchanged on these cross-country trips which kept us silent and our existence a secret. There were times that the warehouse truck would stop, the tail gate door forced opened, then two or three were summoned out.
We were given shoes and clothing so we would not appear as homeless refugees. We had to walk a block down to a near by truck stop, given fifteen minutes to bathe ourselves, then return to the truck. In degrading humiliation we had to beg for toiletries and other personal items. Sometimes, a policeman would appear on the scene and I would be so tempted to cry out for help, but fear of jeopardizing my life and the lives of the other women prevented me. The quick shower and change of clothing signaled our soon “rendezvous” with the ‘johns’ who requested for us. The women were released a few at a time so as not to raise any suspicion.
Selections of adult-aged women and minor girls (who were under the age of sixteen) usually numbered between twenty and fifty. The adult women were expected to resemble a late teen. If they would not comply they were discarded, cast-out, and some were never heard from again. We were constantly monitored, forbidden to make eye contact with anyone in public areas. When we arrived at our destination, the women were separated into motel rooms. We traversed the very rural area of Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Texas, California, Florida, and New York. We were never paid directly, however, later on I discovered that it would turn more money if clients were deceived into thinking that all of us were immigrants.
After months of ongoing physical and mental agony I became apathetic regarding my life; I did not care if I lived or died. With convincing death threats from my Master, I remained silent. If he suspected that I was going to expose him he would verbalize threats against my family and friends. It was at this time that I soul searched an alternative way to reveal this horror to the public.
Anyone can locate escort services, brothels, bathhouses and strip clubs in the yellow pages, newspapers, and brochures which detail the variety of girls they have to offer. As for the Trafficking business, they sought out clientele by word of mouth, on the Internet, personal references and very powerful people who were involved on the inside. This creates a distraction for the sex trade businesses, which continually harbors immigrants as slaves. The sex trade pimps are incredibly organized, know how to blend into society and stage criminal activity as though it is “business as usual.” The scary scenario is not the every day casual clients, but it is the established businessmen, the upper echelon trustees and the government officials which are also clientele.
America needs to have its eyes open to this reality which is happening twenty-four hours a day. People need to understand that the master minds behind the sex trafficking are very clever, creative, deceptive and cautious regarding their services and the way in which they enslave women against their will. It is important to understand that pimps emerge from diverse social backgrounds. The majority of the ones with which I had contact, (who were responsible for the trafficking recruitment) had attained status and wealth.
Even though language barriers prevented my communication with these women, we shared the same relentless fears. Somehow, we also shared the dim ray of hope that maintained our survival. I remember, at different times, holding each of them in my arms letting their tears stain my clothing, while all along, sharing the same pain. Though English was my one advantage, I was just as lost, confused and terrified. However, within the depths of this hell I was experiencing, my will to survive was the fire which kept alive my vision of exposing trafficking to the public.
Finally, I was able to escape from my master through a wealthy client who bought me for an undisclosed amount of money. He was an older gentleman with considerable influence. Through his kindness I planned my way of another escape. He admired my oriental beauty and encouraged and coached me to be a (female pimp). He bought my companionship with jewelry, money and expensive cars: He never physically abused me. With ulterior motives he taught me how to make my own money as a Las Vegas Madam (Female Pimp). Therefore, to escape the daily abuse of the sex industry, I found myself recruiting women and leading them into the same vile profession which had terribly traumatized me. I was deceived and controlled by the power it gave me.
Down the road, I got to the point where I could not stomach what I was doing; repeating the very pattern which held me captive for so long. I may not have abused these women the way my Master did to me, but I did sell them. I used large amounts of narcotics to escape the reality of my immoral empire. When I realized I could not escape the recurring nightmares of women locked in basements, warehouse trucks and cheap dirty motels. I was hurled into a major mental breakdown. Coming to terms with my situation, I ran away from the ‘john’ who bought me. Fearing the possibility of being kidnapped and returned to Las Vegas, I began to seek refuge in churches, seeking their assistance in my quest for deliverance and freedom.
Upon leaving Nevada, I was constantly on the run from former pimps. My life resembled a fugitive fleeing from one location to another. In the fall of 2000, I made contact with an advocate through the Internet, she advised me to relocate to a different state. Since then, I slowly began to heal, trust, and reinvent myself to return to society to make positive contributions. I long to reach out to those who are still imprisoned in the revolving door of sexual exploitation. Truly, their shackles can be broken by people who are willing to tear down the walls of silence, and offer them the hope of freedom. They robbed me of five years, they thought they could break me. Yet, I am still standing and I will stand and voice my experience for the victims who are still held in captive of human trafficking.
*Names have been changed for security purposes.
One question that has always perplexed me is the need to share my experiences, and what I witnessed in Las Vegas without exploiting myself. An integral part of my story is that I, and many other minority women, whether American or not, were shipped from state to state in order to provide specific services for men. It has been stated by many that the sex industry has been divided into two distinct classifications: prostitution and trafficking. I encourage you to listen to my story as I reveal to you why I believe they are one and the same.
In 1995, I fell in love with a military man, who persuaded me to move with him to an undisclosed remote area. There, I was raped and beat continually while handcuffed to a door of an abandoned house. Eventually, through circumstances, I made my escape, but not before he had confiscated my naturalization papers, driver’s license and social security card. With no proof of my identity, I could not acquire adequate shelter. I felt like an animal that has been cast into the street. My life became a scenario of sojourning from one homeless shelter to another.
One day, I was approached by a middle-aged woman who had been watching my every move. Unaware that she was a (Female Pimp), she insisted that I come and work for her in the Escort Service (she assured me that it was only a dating service). My unawareness of this proposition was so overwhelmed by my need for food, money and clothing that I desperately accepted her offer. After several weeks I found myself well provided for and economically stable. Then the unthinkable happened: a client bargained me for sex. After I refused his offer, he grabbed me by the hair, forced me on the floor and raped and beat me. In terror, I fled to the police to report the violence. To my astonishment, the police informed me that I had no rights because I had attained the status of a “street-walker”.
Eventually, the female pimp who recruited me sent me to this gentleman who worked in Nevada where my experience in Human Trafficking began. To this day, I am still haunted by flashbacks regarding certain smells, as well as cold floors which numbed my bare feet. Many times, panic ensues when I find myself in a line of women; it resurrects the nightmares of all the humiliating inspection line-ups I had to endure. We were constantly paraded before a potential client; their lustful eyes examining and perusing us before we became final choices for each predatory customer.
Being Korean, I remember the time when a prejudiced ‘john’ demanded that I dress as a Japanese prostitute/geisha. My vulnerability was made complete when I was taught to speak broken English, fulfilling the racist image of exoticism. Although, I was one of the few that spoke and understood English, my required masquerade as a foreigner brought more money to the Master through harboring of immigrants.
There is no difference between trafficking and prostitution when innocent women and children are being harbored for the sole purpose of the commercial sex trade. Exploiters and pimps are always violating the rights of these victims who are pursuing their freedom to escape from harm.
In reality, no female desires to be a part of this nightmare. Most of us were incarcerated in basements, underneath casinos and in abandoned warehouses. Our desperate cries for help were silenced by the walls, which separated us from the rest of the world. While tourists roamed the streets of Las Vegas admiring the architectural beauty and the celestial lights, which permeated the night sky, we, the victims, were in perpetual fear for our lives.
The Master, knowing full well that I was an American, forced me to work both the Escort and the Trafficking. If I refused or didn’t comply, I was taken underground and sentenced to various methods of punishment. The vividness of this maltreatment brought back such childhood nightmares of the times I was locked in a closet. Each of these two scenarios mirrored the same cries for freedom; after all, I was the submissive little foreign girl who was threatened not to tell anyone. In both cases, my guilt-ridden confessions of bad behavior resulted in my temporary release. On my knees, I had to convince my Master that I would be on my best behavior. After hours of interrogation, I was given permission to return to do what I did best; being a concubine, and deluding myself into thinking that I enjoyed it.
I was involved in trafficking for more than six months. I compare that time to being held hostage in a timeless existence where my mind engaged itself in disassociation with my soul. This mental state was the only way in which I could keep any sanity. Repeatedly, I witnessed the beatings, rapes and murders of innocent women. At times, my tears of hopelessness would drown me into a pathos of my own execution. How could my own country not be aware of these cruelties? How could this kind of discrimination and slavery be given the power to blind immigrant and American women of their rights? The frustration of these and other questions echoed within my catatonic mind.
Most of the time we were transported by trucks with drivers who were not naive to our purpose, and well informed of our identity. After months of these transports for trafficking our self-images had been reduced to cattle being loaded on a cattle car. Thousands of dollars were exchanged on these cross-country trips which kept us silent and our existence a secret. There were times that the warehouse truck would stop, the tail gate door forced opened, then two or three were summoned out.
We were given shoes and clothing so we would not appear as homeless refugees. We had to walk a block down to a near by truck stop, given fifteen minutes to bathe ourselves, then return to the truck. In degrading humiliation we had to beg for toiletries and other personal items. Sometimes, a policeman would appear on the scene and I would be so tempted to cry out for help, but fear of jeopardizing my life and the lives of the other women prevented me. The quick shower and change of clothing signaled our soon “rendezvous” with the ‘johns’ who requested for us. The women were released a few at a time so as not to raise any suspicion.
Selections of adult-aged women and minor girls (who were under the age of sixteen) usually numbered between twenty and fifty. The adult women were expected to resemble a late teen. If they would not comply they were discarded, cast-out, and some were never heard from again. We were constantly monitored, forbidden to make eye contact with anyone in public areas. When we arrived at our destination, the women were separated into motel rooms. We traversed the very rural area of Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Texas, California, Florida, and New York. We were never paid directly, however, later on I discovered that it would turn more money if clients were deceived into thinking that all of us were immigrants.
After months of ongoing physical and mental agony I became apathetic regarding my life; I did not care if I lived or died. With convincing death threats from my Master, I remained silent. If he suspected that I was going to expose him he would verbalize threats against my family and friends. It was at this time that I soul searched an alternative way to reveal this horror to the public.
Anyone can locate escort services, brothels, bathhouses and strip clubs in the yellow pages, newspapers, and brochures which detail the variety of girls they have to offer. As for the Trafficking business, they sought out clientele by word of mouth, on the Internet, personal references and very powerful people who were involved on the inside. This creates a distraction for the sex trade businesses, which continually harbors immigrants as slaves. The sex trade pimps are incredibly organized, know how to blend into society and stage criminal activity as though it is “business as usual.” The scary scenario is not the every day casual clients, but it is the established businessmen, the upper echelon trustees and the government officials which are also clientele.
America needs to have its eyes open to this reality which is happening twenty-four hours a day. People need to understand that the master minds behind the sex trafficking are very clever, creative, deceptive and cautious regarding their services and the way in which they enslave women against their will. It is important to understand that pimps emerge from diverse social backgrounds. The majority of the ones with which I had contact, (who were responsible for the trafficking recruitment) had attained status and wealth.
Even though language barriers prevented my communication with these women, we shared the same relentless fears. Somehow, we also shared the dim ray of hope that maintained our survival. I remember, at different times, holding each of them in my arms letting their tears stain my clothing, while all along, sharing the same pain. Though English was my one advantage, I was just as lost, confused and terrified. However, within the depths of this hell I was experiencing, my will to survive was the fire which kept alive my vision of exposing trafficking to the public.
Finally, I was able to escape from my master through a wealthy client who bought me for an undisclosed amount of money. He was an older gentleman with considerable influence. Through his kindness I planned my way of another escape. He admired my oriental beauty and encouraged and coached me to be a (female pimp). He bought my companionship with jewelry, money and expensive cars: He never physically abused me. With ulterior motives he taught me how to make my own money as a Las Vegas Madam (Female Pimp). Therefore, to escape the daily abuse of the sex industry, I found myself recruiting women and leading them into the same vile profession which had terribly traumatized me. I was deceived and controlled by the power it gave me.
Down the road, I got to the point where I could not stomach what I was doing; repeating the very pattern which held me captive for so long. I may not have abused these women the way my Master did to me, but I did sell them. I used large amounts of narcotics to escape the reality of my immoral empire. When I realized I could not escape the recurring nightmares of women locked in basements, warehouse trucks and cheap dirty motels. I was hurled into a major mental breakdown. Coming to terms with my situation, I ran away from the ‘john’ who bought me. Fearing the possibility of being kidnapped and returned to Las Vegas, I began to seek refuge in churches, seeking their assistance in my quest for deliverance and freedom.
Upon leaving Nevada, I was constantly on the run from former pimps. My life resembled a fugitive fleeing from one location to another. In the fall of 2000, I made contact with an advocate through the Internet, she advised me to relocate to a different state. Since then, I slowly began to heal, trust, and reinvent myself to return to society to make positive contributions. I long to reach out to those who are still imprisoned in the revolving door of sexual exploitation. Truly, their shackles can be broken by people who are willing to tear down the walls of silence, and offer them the hope of freedom. They robbed me of five years, they thought they could break me. Yet, I am still standing and I will stand and voice my experience for the victims who are still held in captive of human trafficking.
*Names have been changed for security purposes.
Julie's Story
Julie* is a 15-year-old runaway trying to survive. Coming from a broken home, she has no money, little education, no shelter and few if any real friends. She does, however, have her body and unfortunately that has substantial value to many who are willing to exploit her.
Predators who know that she is desperate for food and shelter “sell” her to “clients” willing to pay to use her body for their base sexual gratification. Julie isn’t worried about homecoming or algebra like other teenagers. Julie is concerned about where her next meal is coming from and what her next “client” is going to do to her or make her do to him. Julie is worried about staying alive.
This is not a fictional story — nor is it based in a foreign country or New York or Los Angeles. This is a true story, based right here in Wisconsin.
Child trafficking is the sexual exploitation of a child for commercial purposes and is happening every day to children in this state. Kids are bought and sold for the sex trade outside of sporting events, on the Internet, on street corners, and at truck stops all over our state. Our law enforcement officers report child trafficking victims from Wisconsin Dells, Sheboygan, Appleton, Elk Mound, Madison, Milwaukee, Onalaska and numerous other cities throughout Wisconsin.
Runaways are especially vulnerable. As many as 2.8 million children run away each year in the U.S. According to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, within 48 hours of hitting the streets, one-third of these children are lured or recruited into the underground world of prostitution and pornography.
The trafficking trade does not just ensnare runaways, however. It is important to understand that any child can be trafficked regardless of race, class, education, gender, age, or citizenship. Exploiters can lure a victim with an offer of basic necessities like food and clothing, but often the promise of attention, friendship, or a loving “relationship” is enough. Once they gain control, traffickers often resort to violence, intimidation, access to drugs, or psychological manipulation to trap the child in a life of prostitution.
The sheer magnitude of the problem is staggering, with the Internet creating an easy and accessible venue for trafficking transactions. In 2011, the U.S. Department of Justice estimated between 200,000 and 300,000 children were being forced into prostitution at any given time in the United States and that the average age of a new child prostitute was 13 years old.
Children can be re-sold multiple times bringing in continuous profits for their exploiters, making it very lucrative. The National Human Trafficking Resource Center estimates that human trafficking is a $32 billion industry and is one of the fastest growing crimes in the world, second only to the drug trade.
There is no group of victims more vulnerable or more in need of law enforcement protection than these youth who are being sexually exploited. That is why I have made dismantling this criminal enterprise a top priority at the Department of Justice.
By utilizing the resources and expertise that exist in DOJ’s Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) Task Force, we can enhance our ability to identify and rescue child victims and hold their offenders accountable. At both the Attorney General’s Summit for Law Enforcement and the state prosecutor’s conferences this summer, we focused training on identification, investigation and prosecution of human trafficking.
Additionally, as part of my 2013-2015 biennial budget, I am requesting additional special agents and criminal analysts, dedicated exclusively to fighting child sex trafficking. And this February, we are co-sponsoring a two-day conference entirely focused on human trafficking and the numerous issues that service providers, law enforcement and prosecutors face when attempting to rescue trafficking victims and prosecute their exploiters. Our website contains resources for law enforcement, prosecutors, victim service professionals and victims at http://www.doj.state.wi.us/cvs/trafficking.asp.
At the Wisconsin Department of Justice, we will continue to support all crime victims and strive to make sure that the criminal justice system response to victims of human trafficking is supportive and effective in holding offenders accountable. Our Office of Crime Victim Services (OCVS) helps victims understand their rights and access the assistance they deserve.
If you are a victim of human trafficking, or suspect that someone close to you might be, please know that help is available 24 hours a day by calling the National Human Trafficking Resource Center at 1 (888) 373-7888.
Predators who know that she is desperate for food and shelter “sell” her to “clients” willing to pay to use her body for their base sexual gratification. Julie isn’t worried about homecoming or algebra like other teenagers. Julie is concerned about where her next meal is coming from and what her next “client” is going to do to her or make her do to him. Julie is worried about staying alive.
This is not a fictional story — nor is it based in a foreign country or New York or Los Angeles. This is a true story, based right here in Wisconsin.
Child trafficking is the sexual exploitation of a child for commercial purposes and is happening every day to children in this state. Kids are bought and sold for the sex trade outside of sporting events, on the Internet, on street corners, and at truck stops all over our state. Our law enforcement officers report child trafficking victims from Wisconsin Dells, Sheboygan, Appleton, Elk Mound, Madison, Milwaukee, Onalaska and numerous other cities throughout Wisconsin.
Runaways are especially vulnerable. As many as 2.8 million children run away each year in the U.S. According to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, within 48 hours of hitting the streets, one-third of these children are lured or recruited into the underground world of prostitution and pornography.
The trafficking trade does not just ensnare runaways, however. It is important to understand that any child can be trafficked regardless of race, class, education, gender, age, or citizenship. Exploiters can lure a victim with an offer of basic necessities like food and clothing, but often the promise of attention, friendship, or a loving “relationship” is enough. Once they gain control, traffickers often resort to violence, intimidation, access to drugs, or psychological manipulation to trap the child in a life of prostitution.
The sheer magnitude of the problem is staggering, with the Internet creating an easy and accessible venue for trafficking transactions. In 2011, the U.S. Department of Justice estimated between 200,000 and 300,000 children were being forced into prostitution at any given time in the United States and that the average age of a new child prostitute was 13 years old.
Children can be re-sold multiple times bringing in continuous profits for their exploiters, making it very lucrative. The National Human Trafficking Resource Center estimates that human trafficking is a $32 billion industry and is one of the fastest growing crimes in the world, second only to the drug trade.
There is no group of victims more vulnerable or more in need of law enforcement protection than these youth who are being sexually exploited. That is why I have made dismantling this criminal enterprise a top priority at the Department of Justice.
By utilizing the resources and expertise that exist in DOJ’s Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) Task Force, we can enhance our ability to identify and rescue child victims and hold their offenders accountable. At both the Attorney General’s Summit for Law Enforcement and the state prosecutor’s conferences this summer, we focused training on identification, investigation and prosecution of human trafficking.
Additionally, as part of my 2013-2015 biennial budget, I am requesting additional special agents and criminal analysts, dedicated exclusively to fighting child sex trafficking. And this February, we are co-sponsoring a two-day conference entirely focused on human trafficking and the numerous issues that service providers, law enforcement and prosecutors face when attempting to rescue trafficking victims and prosecute their exploiters. Our website contains resources for law enforcement, prosecutors, victim service professionals and victims at http://www.doj.state.wi.us/cvs/trafficking.asp.
At the Wisconsin Department of Justice, we will continue to support all crime victims and strive to make sure that the criminal justice system response to victims of human trafficking is supportive and effective in holding offenders accountable. Our Office of Crime Victim Services (OCVS) helps victims understand their rights and access the assistance they deserve.
If you are a victim of human trafficking, or suspect that someone close to you might be, please know that help is available 24 hours a day by calling the National Human Trafficking Resource Center at 1 (888) 373-7888.
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