Branding. For marketing gurus, it means building an image or identity. In the world of human trafficking, however, it’s a word that suggests people can be property.
In recent years, more and more victims of human trafficking are being tattooed with anything from their traffickers’ names or initials to barcodes, much like those found on a box of cereal or a can of soup. These tattoos are meant to signify that victims are the possessions and, ultimately, the pawns of their traffickers.
Perhaps one of the most unsettling examples of branding is seen in a case from the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. In June 2015, Paul Sewell, who called himself “God,” was convicted and sentenced to 23 years in prison for sex trafficking of minors and adults. To establish his “ownership” over those he trafficked, Sewell “insisted that the girls … be tattooed with ‘God’ and a nickname he gave them as a ‘working name.’”
At first, many victims of human trafficking see this branding as a “good” thing, one that gives them a sense of belonging. Yet, the reality of what it actually means— a life on the streets, often amidst gangs and drugs— quickly settles in.
For survivors of human trafficking, the term branding can be a particularly painful reminder of the past. In many ways, the word perpetuates the power or control that traffickers can have over victims. It also allows traffickers to continue to have a place in the lives of survivors, even after they have escaped the world of human trafficking.
Continually referring to these tattoos as brands sends a message to traffickers, although inadvertently, that what they are doing is normal and acceptable. Ultimately, the term “branding” only reinforces the meaning that traffickers intend to create by tattooing victims: “This person is my property.” While the physical signs cannot easily be removed, calling these marks exactly what they are— ink or tattoos— might ease the psychological toll human trafficking is likely to have on survivors.
This shift in terminology is already taking hold at an organization known as Survivor’s Ink, which supports trafficking survivors by funding cover-up tattoos or removal services. Founded by a survivor of human trafficking, Survivor’s Ink aims “to help other survivors break the psychological chains of enslavement created by the scars of their pasts.” Although the organization cannot possibly reach every survivor of human trafficking, its mission and purpose is one to be emulated. Survivor’s Ink is reframing the way human trafficking victims think about their brandings, which further suggests that the word should no longer be a part of the conversation.
Perhaps moving away from the term “branding” can remind victims and survivors of human trafficking that they have their own identity, and that they are not the property they were once considered to be. This simple, but profound change in language can empower victims and help them reclaim their lives, while also eradicating the notion that people can be property.
Emily Schrank is a first-year law student at the Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law. Emily is from Greenville, South Carolina. Prior to coming to law school, Emily received a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science from the University of Notre Dame. After graduation, Emily hopes to work in the public interest field.
