not my friend...

A few days ago in Sacramento we had the brilliant idea of setting up a dramatization to go along with some of the interviews we've done. Interview after interview kept telling us stories of girls who ran away from their abusive homes only to be drawn into the world of prostitution by various "boyfriends" who promised to protect them.

Since it's not the best idea to get footage of the real women who work the streets (there's a lot of debate about whether filming them is further exploiting their situation or not) we decided to reenact certain scenes but in the actual locations where this stuff happens. Of course, that meant that we had to go to the sketchiest part of town at night and shoot the scenes as fast as possible so we wouldn't draw attention.

Our friend Anna agreed to be the runaway girl-turned-prostitute. We set up the first scene in a semi-abandoned strip mall with a Russian pizza place, a Vietnamese and Korean restaurant and a liquor store. The liquor store was a hub of activity at 10 o'clock at night. Cars and vans were constantly pulling up, two men pushing a baby stroller stopped by. It was a perfect sketchy place for our first scene... almost a little too sketchy.

In our first scene Anna was the runaway, aimlessly wandering the street, cold and bewildered. The empty streets were safer than home. No one was yelling at her here. No one was beating her or molesting her. But the lifeless calm of the street was only a mild comfort. She knew she was vulnerable but what could she do? She had no other place to go.

In the second scene Anna had already been swept up into the abuse-filled world of being pimped out on the street by her boyfriend. She was numb to the abuse. She didn't care any more. Life was all about survival, it was all about getting enough money to make her pimp happy and getting the drugs that helped her forget her life.

To get the footage that we needed for the second scene, we had Anna walked down the "stroll" in Sacramento dressed only a tiny bit revealing. We were all there with our cameras and Malissa was taking photos.

Unbelievably, before our very eyes, a white car spotted Anna and slowed down turning on his blinker in the middle of the block. We all muttered our disbelief. "Can you believe this guy!? He's picking her up right in front of us! Oh no he doesn't.... not my friend."

After slowing for a few long seconds the car swerved a little and turned off his blinker, speeding up quickly and turning the next corner. He reappeared after a few minutes and continued his drive down the stroll.

Later that night I thought about what had happened. The force of my reaction to the event surprised me. It's not the first time I had seen something like this happen... but it was the first time we had purposely set up this sort of realistic scene and used a friend as the prostitute.

When the car was about to pull over everything in me had yelled "NOT MY FRIEND." Don't you dare touch my friend. Don't you dare think she's a prostitute. But how many women had I seen working the streets? Too many to count. And how many times did I take it personally that men were walking or driving by scouting the merchandise and shopping for just the right product?

It always makes me angry to some degree when I see guys picking up prostitutes, but it was never as personal before. My indignation and anger flared in a uniquely furious way when it was my friend....

These ladies on the street... all of them are someone's friend. All of them are someone's daughter, mother or aunt. All of them deserve someone crying out "NOT MY MOM! NOT MY DAUGHTER!"

But the cold air is silent and the runaway girl-turned-prostitute walks the lonely streets under the dark cover of obscurity in the world that, if it could, would wish her existence away.

It happens here.

Sitting there in the neighborhood of where she was trafficked - In her home - In her living room........

Mom walking us through her story of finding out her daughter was trafficked. Picked up down the block at the grocery store....

Transported. Drugged and abused. Bought and sold, bought and sold. From pimp to pimp, John to John. Exploited.

Dad looking away as mom recounts the horror, the agony. I can hear him sniffling as he is turned, looking blankly at the fish tank.

My heart cries out. Oh God! I know you hear these cries, you ask for action, you ask for us to do something.

As I sit in their home I can feel the grief, the unknown, the frustration, the intensity of - she's gone! The process. The community coming together to search. The cry of someone, anyone help us! I can feel the panic, the emptiness, the hopelessness.....

Then found. Not every story has that part. It's not over though. The journey continues on. The recovery process is not a quick one.

I can hear mom saying - It shouldn't happen to anyone's daughter. Not mine, not anyone's.

I can hear God saying I am hope.

Giving Thanks.

Its late...not sleeping and I am thinking about our trip thus far. Thanksgiving is over, Macys Parades are finished, Turkey is now the traditional "turkey sandwich" and the frenzy of Black Friday overtook some of us. I truly hope your Thanksgiving was a good one.

This years Over Indulgence day was in a few words....different, rushed, surprised, blessed, amazing. I would not really know what to do with a "normal" Thanksgiving...Trying to think and I can't remember. We spent the first half in San Fransisco leaving an amazing family in the surrounding area and drove a 1.5 hr drive (turned into 4 hrs cause of traffic) and met up with another family that we are to interview today (22nd). I was a little worried about just stepping into a family thanksgiving but we were treated like just like family....I love Jesus. (I can't wait to be able to host people in my home...tent anyone, maybe a thrermarest?)

Anyways, a few things that are going on behind the scenes. Josh and Ashley have left us. Not for good though they flew up to Seattle and are having Thanksgiving up there with family. I have already done one little set of street interviews but tomorrow will be the first real test of what Josh has taught me. (crossing fingers). I am sure it will turn out fine. Its really interesting to me to watch us work as a team without Josh and Ashley. They really are a huge part of the team and bring a lot to the table. I hope my work would say the same if I were to leave.

Just to wrap this up. Some things I am really thankful for is this team, the passions we all have for the lost and enslaved, the vision of what we are doing and where we are going, and the dedication. Ro, Malissa, Josh, Ashley lets take over the world. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Well, its late and I need sleep when I can get it. So the photos as follows...

San Fransisco (yes, I know its the Full House opening shot), Josh filming (Project Exodus) and Ro Driving. (Not getting us lost.)

Courage 2 Be You

This is an awesome music video created by an anti-human trafficking organization in Sacramento we're visiting called Courage To Be You. The video follows an American girls journey into the sex trade. Disturbing but very poignant.

--Ro

san francisco

The other day we were supposed to interview a guy who is a recovering sex addict. I met him at the john school where he speaks to the guys about their compulsive addiction and encourages them to get help from Sex Addicts Anonymous. During his presentation he tells them about himself, how he first started going to prostitutes when he was 19 and wasn't caught until he was in his late forties.

The johns really respond well to him and ask all sorts of questions about recovery. Most seem skeptical that there really is help for people like them but they also seem willing to try anything to get out from under the control of their addiction.

On the day we were supposed to interview him he called up and said he got the flu. Too bad! I think his perspective on the demand side of human trafficking and prostitution is invaluable. I'm hoping he recovers enough for us to drive back to San Francisco (we're in Sacramento) this weekend and interview him.