Jaclyn

Take a moment to think of how you would define a crisis. Must tangibility be present for something to be considered a crisis? In order to believe something is indeed a crisis and exists as such, must you be able to see and feel it?

What if a crisis existed throughout the world yet was hidden in plain sight? What if its victims passed you on the street, yet their plight was undetectable? What if the crisis occurred in hotel rooms, private residences, truck stops and places of business you pass on your way to work? What if observation was insufficient, and something so insidious and salacious was occurring every day, at any given moment, and you were completely unaware of it?

The United Nations estimates that nearly 12 million people worldwide are forced into human trafficking, including sex trafficking, each year. This number exceeds the total population of New York City.

When is it our duty to give a voice to the voiceless?
Years ago, during my sophomore year in college, I asked myself the same question. After attending the screening of Call + Response, a film documenting the ubiquity and dangers of sex trafficking, I felt a sense of urgency. Of obligation. Not only as a woman and an activist but as a part of society and the world. How could I know this exists and not do anything about it? How could I know that girls as young as 5 years old, possibly younger, were being kidnapped, held in brothels, beaten and raped repeatedly, and not take action? What ideologies precipitate this industry and why is more not being done to stop it?

Despite the powerful statistics and plethora of information, I felt lost among the numbers and the notion of attempting to eradicate a multi-billion dollar industry. More importantly, I felt that I could never eradicate the gender inequality, poverty, classism, misogyny and lack of education that fosters the industry. Yet I refused to turn a blind eye.

My inspiration has been multi-faceted, but the most prominent figure that has allowed me to keep fighting is my friend Sara Kruzan, herself a trafficking victim. Corresponding with such a remarkably strong and intelligent woman has reminded me that while the eradication of the industry is crucial, its victims are equally important. And they need our help.

I wanted to help, but did not know where to start. How could I, a young woman with little resources in the human rights arena, be a catalyst for change? Is it impossible to accomplish and can activism be incorporated into my busy life?

Change is not impossible. Marie and I have created this site with tools accessible to everyone. You do not need to be a full-time activist in order to make a footprint, to spread the word and to be part of our movement.

Change does not occur overnight, and it is by no means an easy road. Activism is challenging, heart-wrenching, frustrating, but promotes the notion that together, with a united front, we can change the world, one voice at a time.

I would like to thank those who have helped me be a part of this movement, and who have inspired me to never give up fighting for the end of slavery, and its subsequent freedom: Marie Damato, Sam Eschenbrenner, James Dold, Amanda Kloer, and Sara Kruzan, who is an inspiration to us all.