The summer I was six was a happy one. I had a new baby brother, my days were spent playing outside and my nights catching fireflies. There was a lake house my family would spend weekends at. Situated at the top of a steep hill, the house was surrounded by old, stately trees. In one of the trees there was a rope swing that was positioned to be pushed out over the hill. When I swung out, with the ground growing further away, I almost felt like I was flying. Life is a bit like that swing. There is no danger until the rope breaks. I landed on my wrist and had to be rushed to the hospital to make sure there weren’t any internal injuries.
2012 was the first time I listened to the plight of human trafficking. Becky McDonald, president of Women At Risk, International gave an informational session on trafficking focusing on that which occurs within the US boars. It wasn’t the first time I heard about it, but it was the first time I absorbed and considered what it truly meant. Having a secure home, never lacking for any basic necessity, and being protected simply because I was a person is the exception,
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They are vital in helping those who have been exploited to be able to return to participating fully in life. However, making sure my wrist healed and there was no internal damage didn’t ease my newfound fear of heights and falling. As amazing as the aftercare that I received was, the rope still broke. While organizations and programs that provide assistance and treatment are a step in the right direction, until the laws and courts recognize and uphold these men, women, and children’s humanity there cannot be healing on a great skill. For this reason I wish to pursue a degree in law, to help establish laws and precedents that can prevent the rope from