I just came back from the supermarket. As I grudgingly had Christmas thrust upon me at the beginning of September, I find myself mentally making pointless threats of, "If they don't turn off techno Rudolph right now, I will..." but again, these are pointless threats that, if I allow myself to walk through the consequences, result in my ending up in a jail cell. Or running really fast. Neither of which would be pleasant. It's quite hot here.
Writing has become a kind of chore for me which is disappointing because it is something I so much love to do. Manila turns creativity into work, and I often find myself saying, "I need to..." where I would usually be saying, "It would be enjoyable to..." (Well, I would never say, "It would be enjoyable to..." I would probably say, "It totally would be wicked sweet to, like..."). So blogging is difficult, and it takes a lot longer than I intend for it to take. And compressing everything into a single post. My journals are full of incomplete phrases and drawings of trees that look nothing like trees, so to try to compile words and pictures of what are potentially trees into anything coherent and cohesive takes a long time. I think that is my way of apologizing for a lack of updates, but it is also letting you into my mind in the tiniest way.
Both my mother and I have been getting the same kind of questions about recent prayer updates, and the topic seemed like one more appropriately covered in a blog post. It is happier, in a way, than my last prayer email.
So. What happens to the victims once they are rescued?
My answer is that we have an amazing aftercare team comprised of the most loving and compassionate social workers I have ever met, who do everything in their power to get these girls and boys to exactly where they need to be. The social workers are with us from the scene of the rescue, and then they walk with the victims through an extensive aftercare program which eventually leads to reintegration. That's my answer, but it is the short answer. There are a lot of tricky twists and turns that our aftercare team has to maneuver, but that is why we have an entire team. And that’s why the team we have is made up of the people it is; they have to be amazing.
About a month ago, a group of us went to one of the shelters for the girls so we could all paint our ideas of what hope looks like. It was a strange phenomenon, meeting all of these girls we had been praying for, and it was wonderful. Yes, these girls were victims of human trafficking or sexual assault, but we weren't there to discuss that. We were there for much more important conversations like what truly is the deal with Justin Bieber's hair? Also, what do I do to get my skin so white? And many comments on my dear friends’ lovely nose shapes. We shared stories about our tattoos. We played games, painted, and ate together. My friend took all of these paintings and made a beautiful installation piece for the big Freedom Forum we had a couple of weeks ago. From darkness to light. It was amazing to see what these girls had painted. So many representations of light, so many birds to signify freedom, and so many paintings with "Jesus" in large letters proclaiming that he is, indeed, the hope that set each of us free. My painting looked much more like hope had a mental breakdown. But it also looked a little bit like fireworks, and to some people that might represent hope. For me, it represented my inability to paint.
But the laughter! So much giggling. These girls are just girls. Or...still they are girls. From what they've experienced, they should be shells, and they should be bitter. But God, in all of his power, and in all of his goodness, preserved in them whatever it is about innocence that is so honest and joyful.
"What's your name?"
"Whitney, yours?"
"*Name of someone whose case details I know*"
"So good to meet you!" ...while thinking, "You should not have that smile on your face. How do you have that smile on your face?”
All conversation was followed by hugs that were the most meaningful of my life because she …and she …and she …and she …they were finally choosing for themselves who they would touch, and they chose me.
This was really the first day of work I came back to my apartment with a smile. Most days at work I am still able to know that what I am doing is working toward justice for these girls and boys, but rarely do I get to interact with the positive outcomes of what we do in the office. It was a blessing for me, the one who put her heart way out there in the realm of human trafficking and is shocked when a piece of that heart finds its way back to me.
The second question that came up what, "What do you do when there isn't a rescue happening?"
This is also a great question but a difficult one to answer. Today, I am writing a concept paper for a program that would allow IJM to take on cybersex casework. I am also in charge of either finding or making a piñata. My life is weird. …And I do mutter that to myself at my desk when I realize that on one tab of my browser is an article on cybersex stats and the on the other is a picture of a giant Dora the Explorer piñata which popped up as a result of the Google search, “How to avoid being a piñata event failure.”
At the moment I am overwhelmed with what we are trying to accomplish. Not so much the piñata, but I am writing this concept paper for what would be called an online child exploitation project. It has been a ton of work and a ton of wading hopelessly through very grey areas of right and wrong. Is a child who is rescued from the immediate danger of producing more pornographic movies, but older files are still being distributed, still being exploited? Does a victim remain a victim if her pictures and videos still circulate the internet? How does the answer to that affect aftercare? If a parent takes a picture of her kid in a bathtub, is it pornography? When does art become pornography? Who knew my aesthetics courses would ever come back into play in this field of work. So right now, I'm pretty frustrated. I can't define "exploitation," I can't define, "child pornography," and all previous studies openly admit to being inaccurate because tracking a global issue like this one might actually be impossible. Prayers. PLEASE. This is an issue so near and dear to my heart that I want to assist in creating a program that is sustainable.
Prayer Requests
My biggest prayer request is about finding work when I get back to the US. My ideal job would be one in DC with an anti-human trafficking NGO that would allow me to travel 30%-40% of the time. I know, that’s super specific. I am really praying that an opportunity with NCMEC will present itself. But if anyone knows of anything or anyone who would be a good resource, I am happy to reach out to whomever to get a conversation going. Prayers that opportunities will present themselves would be great. Doors will be opening and closing… all that.
Within the next couple of months, a lot of the interns we have now will be leaving. They are my friends. We work together, eat together, play together, and live together. And with the way my brain works, it feels like there could never possibly come a day when I am not with all of these people I have come to adore. Pray for all of our abilities to adjust. And pray for the new interns who will be joining us in January!
Pray for morale in general.
God is working on me. And, to be honest, it is both painful and exhausting. I always get excited when things get hard because I know the outcome is always worth it, but in the moments of hopelessness, I need prayer.
My love to each of you,
Whitney
