Vivian Morrow

ESSAY: VIVIAN MORROW

THISTLE FARMS + EDEN HOUSE

There is a young girl in the old New Orleans airport, posted on a Blue Campaign poster. She never sleeps, cannot speak, and cannot leave. All she can do is hold eye contact with those who seem to notice her. We meet every Christmas, her image fading as the poster wears down. I met her when I was 13, on the way to visit my grandparents. We shared a physical resemblance; the same eye color, hair texture, age, and skin tone. But still, we looked so different. Alone, her arms hug her chest. White letters are plastered on the faded paper: “Can You See Her?” I soon noticed that she was posted everywhere, in the restroom, in Starbucks, and on the sliding glass doors. Despite her obvious presence, nobody seemed to pay her any attention. It was too easy to simply walk past her in the rush of the airport. As I continued out onto the street, she stared at me from the side of her Blue Campaign ad, posted on a street lamp, the colors almost completely bleached by sunlight. I finally held eye contact. We were face to face: me, a safe well-cared-for 13-year-old girl, and her, a representation of the grooming and human trafficking of young women. It was then I knew that I had a responsibility to see her; a responsibility to help her. As I read the faded letters on the bottom of the poster, I found a mission. I wanted to discover why an underground slavery system was not receiving more attention and what people were doing to help. Over the last few years, I have focused my efforts on Thistle Farms and Eden House-- organizations with similar missions: to “heal, empower, and employ” women survivors of human trafficking. Working in the Thistle Farms enterprise, I met graduates of their rehabilitation program. The volunteer coordinator, Jennifer Clinger, helped me answer the questions I had about trafficking. After spending time working with program graduates and reading Jennifer’s memoir, Delivered, I further understood what human trafficking is, how non-profits were able to help rehabilitate those who had fallen prey, and how traffickers chose these victims while operating in the shadows.

Defining human trafficking is an important step in understanding how the crime operates in silence. The United States Department of Justice defines human trafficking as “the recruitment, harboring, transportation, provision, or obtaining of a person for labor or services, through the use of force, fraud, or coercion for the purpose of subjection to involuntary servitude, peonage, debt bondage, or slavery” (Trafficking Victims Protection Act of 2000). Given the long definition, I was curious as to what common knowledge about trafficking might be. I asked the people around me what they understood about the crisis. The frequent answer danced along the idea that trafficking was horrifying and illegal, but people were unsure of how it worked or who was involved. Wondering what caused the lack of caution about such a predacious industry, I contacted the Eden House staff, asking what they knew about the public view of human trafficking. A reason for the lack of public knowledge is

that the myths about human trafficking make it a harder concept to grasp. There are many popular misconceptions, such as the idea that trafficking only happens in poor countries, victims are not American, trafficking is the same as human smuggling, and most importantly, the misconception that victims will always come forward to ask for help. The truth that often goes unspoken is that human trafficking is a hidden crime that operates with a cloak of mundane disguise. Existing and operating across the globe, including the United States, human trafficking can take place in a variety of settings, plaguing cities, suburbs, and rural towns alike. Victims can be of any race, nationality, age, or gender. Oftentimes, trafficking operations work under a fake business name, online ads, truck stops, and factories. Individuals may be lured in through a romantic relationship, the promise of a job, or through a family member. Even though victims may not be physically confined, they may not be able to come forward and ask for help, therefore they are hidden in plain sight (Eden House, Blue Campaign).

As depicted on the New Orleans Airport poster, a disproportionate number of human trafficking victims are female. The UN reports that “the most common form of human trafficking (79%) is sexual exploitation. The victims of sexual exploitation are predominantly women and girls” (United Nations). Organizations like Eden House and Thistle Farms attack this global crisis by working to help this large demographic. Thistle Farms, founded by Becca Stevens in 1997 with the motto “Love Heals”, houses twenty-eight recovering women at a time. They live in “a therapeutic setting that offers healing and transformation through housing, healthcare, counseling, employment, and community building” (Thistle Farms). My mentor at Thistle Farms, Jennifer Clinger, exclaims how “People just keep showing up. And when they do, we just say, ‘welcome to the circle,’ and let them get to work” (Morris Interview). Thistle Farms also works with the Tennessee Prison for Women, allowing women to begin their recovery with therapy and education, even if they are serving time, to ease the transition into the residential program. Thistle can help the residents with legal issues, working to clear records and launch the women back into society. In her book, Delivered, Jennifer explains how Thistle Farms is a place of healing that helps many women succeed in a way that other programs fail to accomplish. Jennifer had spent her youth in and out of many programs for troubled kids which she described as places where “teachers didn’t teach. Counselors didn’t counsel. They were only there to supervise and make sure we didn’t kill each other or burn the place down” (Clinger 15). She explains how she “always failed at state and federally funded programs. Their design is flawed. How can a person focus on healing when all they can do is worry about paying rent? With no education? No work history? A criminal record? It is a recipe for failure” (Clinger 45-46). Conversely, the Thistle Farms residential program is proven effective, and their waitlist, “capped at 100 women - is consistently full” (Thistle Farms). About 75% of Thistle Farms graduates are rehabilitated and “living healthy, independent lives” (Thistle Farms), so more non-profits, such as Eden House in New Orleans, opened up to continue Becca’s mission. In New Orleans, Eden House was started by former United States Diplomat, Kara Van de Carr. She wrote the Trafficking in Persons Report for Jamaica and with help from Representative Neal Abramson, she drafted legislation

for Louisiana to work to protect trafficked children. From there, seeing that many women in the city needed help, she started Eden House. Like Thistle Farms, this nonprofit offers a haven to women who had been exploited through trafficking. Working side by side with these survivors, I learned about their journeys. Most of them were girls from the south, only a few years older than me. They explained their stories and how they were targeted by the industry.

Drug addiction and poverty are two main targeting factors that increase the risk of trafficking. Thistle Farms states how “traumatic childhood experiences give way to homelessness, addiction, further abuse, and incarceration, often compounded by poverty” (Thistle Farms). Because of this, “populations frequently targeted by traffickers include runaway and homeless youth, refugees and immigrants, as well as victims of domestic violence, sexual assault, war, and other forms of social discrimination” (Eden House). Jennifer Clinger, who was on her own at age 12, fell prey to sexual predators in Los Angelos when she was young. Predators have an easier time when nobody is looking for their victims. She recalls the drugs and the abuse from those times that furthered her addiction and made her life feel like a neverending cycle that nobody was there to help her break. She has since dedicated her career to helping others break these habits and get back on their feet. To help trafficking victims, one must know how to spot them. There are key indicators to help see victims of human trafficking. These indicators include a disconnect from friends and family, skipping school, confusion, various bruises, neglect, coached speech, a lack of personal possessions, and the enforcement of unreasonable security measures. However, these indicators can be difficult to catch unless one spends a larger amount of time with the person, and oftentimes, these victims are on their own (Blue Campaign). The cycle only continues when these women are blocked out of the workforce. Often homeless and with a criminal record, it becomes hard for them to find work, leading to further financial desperation. In an interview with Pamela Lamp, Jennifer explains Thistle Farms’ mission helped to employ women and provide a liveable salary so that “they don’t have to return to illegal hustles to make ends meet” (Lamp interview). Extreme poverty can still be a key targeting measure even if one has close friends and family. Jennifer describes how “people sell their daughters because they think they are giving them a better life, when in fact they’re just selling them into sex slavery.” This concept is quite prevalent in places where women have less opportunity for income. To help prevent these transactions, Thistle Farms works with many partners around the globe, such as Starfish Project in Northeast Asia, which works to provide vocational training to trafficked women, hoping to provide income opportunities. They train women to make goods such as jewelry and bags to be shipped to the U.S. and sold across the United States. Jennifer explained to me how people want to help, but they are often unsure how. So, Thistle Farms and Eden House give them easy ways to contribute by opening their enterprise and gift shops, stocked with survivor-made goods. Each good sold represents healing and safety for those who seek sanctuary.

Despite the horrific reality of sex trafficking, more victims are finding their way to safety and rehabilitation every day. Thistle Farms reports that “sister

organizations grew by more than 150 beds since last year” (Thistle Farms). They also have employed 1,400 survivor artisans, helping keep women financially stable, reducing the risk of trafficking. Every year, Thistle Farms and Eden House hold graduations for the women who are ready to live on their own. Lifetime, Regions, Thistle Farms, and Urban Housing Solution work together to fund apartment rent for these new graduates as they go to school and get jobs. Reba McEntire even presented Terrié, a 2022 graduation candidate, with an apartment that was furnished as well as 2 years of rent paid. Graduates regain parts of life that were taken from them by traffickers. 2017 graduate, Rachel, explains how she wanted to be able to vote again as it had been ten years since she had been able to. Thistle got to work and after a lengthy process, her voting rights were restored (Thistle Farms). Jennifer exclaims that like these survivors, she is “still standing. And those left standing must dance” (Morris Interview).

New Orleans recently built a whole new airport and the girl on the poster disappeared with the old walls. As summer ended and I flew back home from working at Eden House, I went to look for her. The new walls were vacant. I worried she might be gone from the public eye, moving society backward in the fight to eradicate human trafficking with the same awareness that she had gifted me long ago. I was wrong. She was not gone. One July night far away from New Orleans, in the middle of a movie marathon, we locked eyes once again. Black Widow, what I had expected to be an average superhero movie, tore her right off the poster and brought her to life in a way I had never seen before. Within the first minutes, she was visible, but not silent on her faded piece of public safety organization-issued paper. Now, she was screaming and running. Her eyes stared back at me with their usual intensity from each girl in the opening credit scene. They were of different ethnicities, different ages, and unfamiliar, but the look in their eyes was identical to the one I had known so well. I realized that for the first time, I was seeing a movie that portrayed the grooming and human trafficking of young women. I was seeing a digital media representation of the girl in New Orleans. The world is not moving backward, it is entering a new era of hope and representation for those who used to suffer in silence. If more people can see her, more people can help save her.

WORKS CITED Blue Campaign. “What Is Human Trafficking?” Blue Campaign, United States Government, 10

Nov. 2021, www.dhs.gov/blue-campaign/what-human-trafficking. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. “What Is Human Trafficking?” Blue Campaign, United States Government, 10 Nov. 2021, www. dhs.gov/blue-campaign/what-human-trafficking. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. Clinger, Jennifer. “Jennifer Clinger – Human Trafficking Survivor.” Interview by Pamela Lamp.

Who I Met Today, 11 Mar. 2020, whoimettoday.com/people-to-meet/jennifer-clingerhuman-trafficking-survivor/. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. “Welcome to the Circle.” Interview by Jow Morris. Unsung Nashville, 3 July 2014, parthenonpub.com/2014/07/03/welcome-circle/. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. Clinger, Jennifer A. Delivered: The Fragmented Memories of a Former Streetwalker. Place of publication not identified, Jennifer A. Clinger., 2018. Eden House. “What is Human Trafficking?” Eden House Nola, edenhousenola.org/about/whatis-human-trafficking/. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022.

Thistle Farms. 2022, thistlefarms.org/. Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. The United States Department of Justice. “Human Trafficking Defined.” Human Trafficking.

The United States Department of Justice, United States, www.justice.gov/humantrafficking.

Accessed 8 Feb. 2022. “UNODC report on human trafficking exposes modern form of slavery.” Office on Drugs and Crime, United Nations, www.unodc.org/unodc/en/human-trafficking/ global-report-on-trafficking-in-persons.html. Accessed 22 Feb. 2022.

REFLECTION: VIVIAN MORROW

SERVICE SCHOLAR REFLECTION

On an excruciatingly hot July afternoon, I found myself trying to haul a refrigerator across the lop-sided sidewalks of New Orleans. Honestly, it was not what I expected to be doing during that summer. I was volunteering at Eden House, a non-profit haven that provides long-term shelter, counseling, and workforce training for sex-trafficked women. My new nemesis, the giant stainless steel fridge, had to be installed so that Eden House could house more women. After getting it in the door, I collapsed on the ground of the residence house. I had been scrubbing floors, moving furniture, and power washing sidewalks for the whole week but somehow felt useless. Here, there were these female survivors of the unimaginable. It seemed as if all I could do to help was housework. I did not yet understand how this work coincided with their motto “love heals.” I remember faintly noticing the squeaky floorboards of the tired old southern home as one of the recovering women sat down beside me. I threw my hands up, smiling at my new accomplishment sitting in the doorway. She laughed and said that I was turning this place into the Ritz Carlton. She kept smiling, explaining how she had never lived in a place so clean and luxurious. It was then that I finally understood. “Love Heals” was more than a cute slogan made to make people feel good. It spoke the truth about recovery. The simple act of a refrigerator was enough to help someone heal.

Working with women who were recovering at Eden House, I found that the road to recovery resembles that of the rough New Orleans sidewalks that I had battled that day; cracked, uprooted, and broken. Still, the concrete remains where it has always been, supported by the earth. For many female trafficking victims, this road leads to a powerful place with a mission to heal those who grace its doorstep. Eden House and Thistle Farms work to eradicate the selling of human beings and heal those who have been harmed by the industry. Working with these two organizations, I was able to get a first-hand view of the recovery and life after these women had graduated.

I found that the most essential method of recovery is the emphasis on a person’s value; to reiterate the famous saying, “love heals”. Every time these women greet or say goodbye to each other, they say that powerful two-word phrase. As I cleaned, organized donations, and cooked with the residents, I saw its truth manifest in front of me. These acts, though relatively simple, were acts of consideration that empowered these female

survivors. After their two-year period of recovery and rehabilitation, these women were applying to college, getting jobs, and starting businesses. That empowerment came through love.

During my work, I became aware of how trafficking could take place anywhere. Some of the survivors, barely older than I was, were from a similar background as me. We talked about SAT scores, the beach, southern weather, and different restaurants we wanted to try; things that seemed incredibly normal to me. I helped some of the girls design and make earrings to sell at Especially Eden, and they even named a pair “Vivian”. While at Thistle Farms, I spent a lot of time working to assemble packaging for the gift shop with older graduates. These women had recovered and were living a new life. They told me stories of how they reconnected with their family after years of being estranged and how they were so proud of their daughters and granddaughters for getting degrees. It was incredible to see the transformation they had gone through and sparked hope for those recovering at Eden House.

On my last day of interning at Thistle Farms, I went out to visit a spot in the garden. There are stones with names on them and flowers that sprout through the hard earth. Each name represents a woman lost. These women represent the silent crimes of trafficking. Jennifer Clinger explained to me how the women in the program are like thistles, growing through concrete and drought. They are survivors.