By Stephanie Richard, Ukraine (98-00)
During human trafficking awareness month, I wanted to write to ask PCVs and RPCVs to think critically about what human trafficking looks like and the contrasting public perspective of it. My name is Stephanie Richard, and I am an RCPV Ukraine (1998-2000) and the recent recipient of the Sargent Shriver Award for Distinguished Humanitarian Service. I am the Director of the Sunita Jain Anti-Trafficking Initiative at Loyola Law School, and I currently teach law students and conduct research and writing on the complex intersectional solutions that can prevent human trafficking and increase access to services for survivors. I’ve also spent my 20-year career advancing survivor-centered legal reform. I’ve overseen the most extensive legal services program in the country for trafficking survivors, led a Department of Justice–funded national initiative for attorneys, and served as policy counsel for the National Survivor Network.
A close friend in October sent me the NYT magazine article entitled “Can Anyone Rescue the Trafficked Girls of L.A.’s Figueroa Street? Highlighting law enforcement’s response to trafficking in Los Angeles, saying it helped her “finally understand” my work. Unfortunately, it does the opposite. It reinforces the same carceral myths that those of us advancing evidence-based, survivor-informed policy have spent decades dismantling.
The article documents the growth of trafficking along “the Blade” but never asks whether that increase reflects the failure of a law enforcement-focused approach over 25 years of US anti-trafficking efforts. It shows a child chased, cornered, and handcuffed—alone and afraid—and calls it a “rescue.” What kind of rescue involves handcuffs with many child victims returned to juvenile hall? This framing undermines the trauma-informed, survivor-led care that prioritizes dignity, agency, and healing.
Survivors themselves have written extensively about how the word rescue erases agency and fuels “savior” narratives that justify coercive interventions. It silences their voices and simplifies a complex process of recovery. For survivors, their healing and recovery can take years. Paired with the piece’s sensational imagery, which has also been written about extensively as problematic in Anti-Trafficking efforts, this article recycles outdated tropes that obscure what survivors actually need: housing, stability, and a belief in their own resilience to heal with support, but on their own terms.
Further, the article continues to promote the narrative that well-intentioned law enforcement officers conducting raids and sweeps to prevent the trafficking of young girls is an approach that would be successful if law enforcement were better resourced. However, the seminal report done in 2021 by the University of Southern California School of Law, entitled “Over-Policing Sex Trafficking: How U.S. Law Enforcement Should Reform Operations,” firmly concludes the opposition. The USC evidence-based research definitely concluded that “operations fail to protect sex trafficking victims, fail to lead to prosecution of traffickers, and fail to prevent trafficking.“ Further, it recommends “drastically limiting the use of operations while supporting community and public health approaches.
The NY Times’ article ignores these recommendations made by a local university 5 years ago. It continues to suggest that arrest and incarceration of traffickers, which often includes handcuffing and incarcerating child victims, is a viable but under-resourced approach. Yet there has been no evidence-based data that has shown that arrest and prosecution actually prevent trafficking. Indeed, evidence-based research has documented that even law enforcement officers and prosecutors who understand the dynamics of trafficking, understand its “limited effectiveness” and “potential harm of the current response”. Further, in 2018, interviews with 80 sex and labor survivors documented that the majority of trafficking survivors do not want to see their traffickers incarcerated and want anti-trafficking efforts and resources to focus on prevention. Despite these findings almost a decade ago, politicians, the media, and even service providers and advocates within the anti-trafficking movement have proposed few alternatives to a law enforcement response.
A closer, more critical reading of the New York Times piece reveals a troubling contradiction: the very reporting used to justify law enforcement–led anti-trafficking tactics actually exposes their ineffectiveness. The article notes that three out of four youth “rescued” by police return to their traffickers—a stark indicator that these interventions, which have dominated funding in Los Angeles and nationally for over two decades, are failing. Arrest and incarceration do not heal; they perpetuate harm disguised as help.
The article also fails to center survivor voices, even when they are present. As one survivor quoted in the piece plainly stated, “If I had housing, I wouldn’t be out here.” This quote alone dismantles the myth that “arrest equals rescue.” That narrative is not only false—it’s dangerous. It obscures the realities of exploitation and reinforces cycles of re-traumatization.
During January, Human Trafficking Awareness Month, I hope RPCVs can educate themselves on what trafficking looks like and real policy solutions. I hope that if you read or have read the NYT magazine article, you will now ask yourself: What do these operations cost—not just in dollars, but in dignity, autonomy, and long-term safety? What could be achieved if we redirected those resources toward survivor-led, public health recovery models that honor lived experience and promote real healing?
I recommend checking out the Freedom Network US resources, as well as the Alliance to End Slavery and Trafficking (ATEST) -two groups I have worked closely with to find evidence-based information and answers.
Stephanie Richard, Director, Sunita Jain Anti-Trafficking Initiative, Loyola Law School, Los Angeles