"Child trafficking" is a dangerous euphemism for one of the most unexposed yet horrific forms of modern slavery. As the student-run Love146 concert cafe night highlighted Saturday evening, the real issue is sex slavery — now the second-most lucrative crime in the world. Every year, it is estimated that at least 1.2 million children are sexually exploited. The sickening tragedy is that children are sold into prostitution every minute, and most people have absolutely no idea this is happening.
When you think "sex slavery," you might imagine poverty-stricken children being kidnapped off the streets of a third-world country. Surprisingly, though, it is an industry that exists in the shadows much closer to where we live and breathe than any of us might really care to know. Forty-five of 50 states in the United States have passed laws against human trafficking. Massachusetts, however, is one of the "dirty five" that has not.
Sex trafficking occurs all over the greater Boston area; there are currently sex slaves in Arlington, Cambridge, Braintree and both Somerville and Medford, according to Audrey McIntosh, a full-time volunteer from Not For Sale Massachusetts, a campaign to re-abolish slavery.
Let's not sit back and watch injustice unfold when there is so much we can do. Join an abolition movement, write letters to your state legislature, grab every opportunity you have to tell someone — your family, your co-workers, your roommates. In a world where two children are sexually exploited per minute, it seems we have nothing to lose and millions to gain.
Child. Sex. Slavery. Those three words combined terrify us. Society simply does not want to hear about it. On Facebook you can't even type the words "child" and "sex" in the same sentence without getting a notice of "error" from the system. It is such an easily avoidable issue — that is, until you see it from the perspective of a victim.
Imagine you are a young girl. A man beats and rapes you until you agree to be his prostitute. Your name is replaced with a number as your right to have an identity is stripped away from you. You have several clients tonight, and each time you are drugged and sold at a price. Tomorrow, you turn eight years old.
The girl I speak of is a child of broken dreams. We see her, but not really. In Boston, she represents the trafficking victims who wander mindlessly on the streets. They hang around train stations and bus terminals with brokenness in their eyes. They see no other way but to sell their bodies as a means of finding purpose in a seemingly cruel and loveless world.
As students at Tufts, we can scribble compassionate words onto paper and perform songs about caged birds and freedom, but where can we go from there? Is it idealistic to think that we are capable of making any real, lasting change? As Tufts sophomore and spoken word performer Barbara Florvil puts it, "Beyond a month, beyond a week, beyond a benefit concert, will you leave and think that child sex slavery is only an anecdote that has nothing to do with you or me?"
Without a doubt, child sex trafficking is an overwhelmingly invasive issue that might compel any student to turn a blind eye and run the other way. So how do we approach such a heavy topic?
The best way to get at people regarding the horrors of child sex trafficking is to approach the issue in a personal way. And this is exactly what the Love146 concert cafe night aimed to do. The whole point was that people should not simply toss their money into jars and walk away with lighter pockets. Raising funds would be meaningless unless the people leave having felt or learned something. Though the event raised more than $1,000, organizers had a less tangible dream in mind. As abolitionists, our job is to get the message out and get people's hearts to break for these kids. That's the only way lasting change will really happen.
Above all, we must focus on hope. We can fill our heads with paralyzing statistics, but we will never move past the horror if we cannot envision a world where, as Martin Luther King Jr. said, "justice rolls down like water." The most effective way of making a change isn't to scare people into activism, but to motivate them through the idea that change is possible.
Love146 emphasizes the truth that recovery is possible. The fact is that formerly sex-trafficked children in restoration homes are getting their lives back. Rob Morris, co-founder of Love146, recounts his interactions with a rescued child in a personal message on the organization's website: "I remember one girl. She was so broken that she would pour handfuls of dirt over her head, wanting to disappear into the ground. I can't even fathom that kind of brokenness, especially in a child. … Just a year later, she came up to me giggling and sparkly-eyed, asking to dance."
As activists, it is our responsibility to act as radiant beacons, shedding light on the heartbreaking and rarely addressed issue of child sex slavery. Even though sex slavery is such a distressing topic, we, as privileged students, have something to celebrate — the opportunity to make a difference. Sophomore Kristen Ford, a member of sQ!, sparked fire in the crowd Saturday night with a bold vision: "Yes, there are 100,000 children enslaved each year, but it's our responsibility to see that next year that number is lower … until one day we don't have to worry about the problem at all."
With that said, how dare we, as privileged and educated students, allow the victims of child sex trafficking to multiply before our eyes. As students on a college campus, where it is said that one in four women will become a victim of sexual assault during her academic career, we ought to be the most outraged, most relentless abolitionists of all!
As Mr. Morris believes, "There is but one coward on earth. And that is the coward that dare not know. And I think everything in us, when we hear dark stories, we recoil and don't want to hear them. But I think it's courageous to remember and hear the stories of children. It's not only courageous, but honoring."
Child sex slavery is happening today. And it is happening in our own backyards. As students at Tufts, we have no reason not to stay informed, advocate awareness and stand against injustice. We've heard the cries of the broken. The time has come to respond and spread the truth.
