Private eyes look for runaways, sex-trade victims to rescue, published in the San Diego Union-Tribune is a perfect example of good intentions gone awry. And while the work described in the article may be admirable, its narrative is not. It depicts women and girls caught in the commercial sex industry as hapless victims with no control over their own lives, in need of rescue. More harmful still, it concludes the story with the seemingly-successful “rescue” of the trafficking survivors, but the reality of exit from the commercial sex industry is much more complicated than that.
While the article is more in depth than most, describing the ways in which some girls get caught up in the commercial sex industry, it still grossly oversimplifies commercial sexual exploitation. Its tone is condescending and sensationalist from the outset: “It’s a dark, shadowy world of young, insecure teens lured into a world of drugs, booze, and feigned love, then intimidated into prostitution.” It falsely alleges: “Every sexually exploited child was first a runaway.” It fails to recognize that for some individuals running away may be a valid, reasonable choice; and that, for many, “home” is not a safe place. It perpetuates dangerous preconceptions that commercial sexual exploitation happens only at the hands of predators girls encounter on “the streets.” In reality exploiters are sometimes family, friends, boyfriends, teachers, or bosses at after-school jobs. There is no typical exploiter, and girls are not universally safe from exploitation by virtue of never having run away. This oversimplification is especially harmful for most readers because it is likely the only exposure they will get to this important issue.
Notably absent from this piece are the voices of any survivors. Instead we hear from the volunteers and private investigators looking to “rescue,” and from the frightened parents of missing girls. The message is clear: all it takes to save these broken girls is a heart of gold and some good intentions. But any survivor will tell you that it takes much more than that. While the groups described in the article are commendable for using their special skills to help exploited children, it is ultimately survivors that are responsible for their own “rescue,” and their power should never be overshadowed by the work of others. Exit from the commercial sex industry is a long, complicated process. It does not begin and end with “rescue”. Allies can lend a helping hand, but should never take credit where credit is not due.
The dangers of oversimplifying commercial sexual exploitation and of defining it as something from which someone can be easily rescued are numerous. People hunger for clean narratives: the buildup, the conflict, the eventual happy ending. Reality is far from that. Media outlets’ perpetuation of the clean, convenient rescue narrative makes it more difficult for survivors for whom it is near impossible to make such a clean break. It also makes it more difficult for organizations working to aid survivors in their exit. Donors too want a clean narrative and when that cannot be fulfilled in the real world, organizations suffer. Nobody wants to hear about the number of times many survivors return to pimps before leaving for good, about the resistance to exit services, or about the very complicated feelings of love and guilt survivors might have toward their exploiters; but to deny these realities is to deny survivors the understanding and humanity they deserve. It diminishes the magnitude of their resilience and bravery, something for which survivors should be commended. It is so important for media to show the nuances and complexities of these important issues, and to set realistic expectations for survivors. We owe it to survivors and to one another.
Paige Pihl Buckley is currently a first-year law student at Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law. Paige is from Framingham, Massachusetts and received a Bachelor of Science in Print Journalism and African Studies from Boston University. After graduation, Paige hopes to become an advocate for juvenile justice or police reform.
