Barbara Amaya – TRANSCRIPT
A 15-year-old-girl, alone, confused, sad, addicted, and trafficked on the streets of New York City. She hears sirens in the background, and she knows what that means. It means “Run!” So she and all the other young women out on the track run, but they’re not fast enough. The police come, and they chain them all together, and take them down to the police station. And she’s kind of worried, because she’s addicted to heroin, and she knows she can’t spend that many minutes in the police station. She goes to the police station, and she goes to court, and they sentence her to Rikers Island Prison. And she’s thinking, “I have to get out of here. I’ve heard horror stories, and I don’t want to be in Rikers Island Prison.”
So she breaks the programming that the trafficker has drilled into her head, and she says, “I’m Barbara Amaya. I’m not 21. I’m 15-years old, and I’m from Fairfax, Virginia. Please help me. Please find my family. I just want to go back home.” And they do. They say, “We found your family, they’re coming to pick you up.” She feels a sense of relief. They’re coming, they’re coming to pick me up.
At the same time, I felt so many other emotions. I was scared, I didn’t know what I was going to say. I’d been gone for three years. They take me to the room where my parents are going to be waiting. I open the door, and I step inside. And it’s my trafficker in the room not my parents. And to this day, I don’t know how that happened. I’m not sure. Do you all remember the feeling that you had when you were in middle school, when you were 12 or 13 years old, in 6th, 7th grade? That feeling of excitement, wanting to belong, but yet being very, very, very vulnerable? That’s what traffickers prey upon, vulnerability. Whether it’s a 12-year-old runaway, or a 35-year-old man trying to find money to feed his family.
The vulnerable population is being preyed upon. That’s what it’s about. It’s not complicated. They know how to keep that vicious cycle going. Supply and demand, it’s about supply and demand. That’s a photo of me, 12-year-old me. The summer I turned 12, I ran away from my Fairfax, Virginia home. And I want to repeat that. The summer I turned 12, I ran away from home, and I went to nearby Washington, DC. I’d been abused and nobody would listen to me, so I ran away from home.
In Dupont Circle, a young woman approached me, and she said she wanted to help me. And she understood how I felt. And I went back with her to her apartment. And sadly, her trafficker was there. She had been out recruiting other young, other runaways. Maybe she’d been one herself one day. One day, they took me to the corner of 14th and I Streets, not that far from here, in our nation’s capital, and they sold me to a trafficker from New York. And I can remember that day like it was yesterday.