By Julie Riley

Poem by Toni Lefton

I am particularly obsessive over missing children cases. I follow them with intense curiosity and hang on to every hope that he or she will be found and will come home safely. It’s incredibly easy to imagine the desperation of the family, waiting to wrap their arms around their baby again, agonizing over every scenario that could be possible and aching for their child’s presence and laughter to just come back home.

It amazes me that when one child is missing, everyone stops to notice. The most recent example would have to be Falcon Heene, the “balloon boy”. When we thought he was missing and his life was in danger, the entire nation collectively held their breath and business as usual stopped in its tracks until we knew he was safe and sound.

It’s easy to take notice of the missing and exploited when there is news coverage and journalists to point out every detail and circumstance. Every parent’s worst nightmare is being played out in front of you, and this one child becomes a representative for the countless others who are in the same situation, and suddenly we are watching and waiting. But what about the millions who have been ripped from their families and are forced into a ravaged life? (2 children per minute are trafficked for sexual exploitation) It’s impossible to wrap my mind around the many, but if I can stop and remember that these are children with individual names and individual personalities and talents and futures, I can empathize in ways I never thought I could. I can bend my ears toward the cry of one and take on her pain and see her face and be her voice as if she were my own child.

I came across this poem at an art exhibit, and it described to me the journey of a child who is forced into dark places, who longs for freedom, and who, with our help, can find their way home. There is still hope. The poem reminds me of Peter Gibson’s picture of a VIP room where small children were held against their will and prostituted. That brothel has been shut down and the children that were once brutalized have been rescued and given a home.

Hansel & Gretel, a revision

What were you doing out there, alone in the woods, lost

with bread in your pockets, wandering through tangled trees at dusk?

Where were the parents, the babysitter, the school crossing guard?

Would friends and teachers call home, send text messages

that Hansel and Gretel were gone?

Did your mother rise from her crumple of tears when she heard

the sheriff pull up, after the dogs sniffed the trail of crumbs

you so wisely left behind? Was this something you learned

on the last season of Survivor, when you should have turned off the TV

and used your imagination to build make-believe worlds of your own?

The search party found scraps of cloth caught on low-hung branches,

a torn bonnet, the sole of a shoe. They surely would broadcast

an Amber alert on highway billboards, truck stops and bus stations.

Child services must have showed up at your door, to ask questions,

to fill in the holes, checking the emotional response of a father

who was barely ever home.

What did you talk about, what stories did you tell to keep the light

going in the dark? Did your brother hold your hand?

Did you skip stones and gather flowers and twigs,

build forts in the wild of your night?

How did that solitude feel, hiding from sounds scrambling

up through the brush? Perhaps the ground was a colored path,

tiled by the way sun falls through trees, caught in the canopy,

filtering in like the witch’s long, curled fingers.

Did you scream when you saw her cobalt shadow, did you run deeper

into the forest because it felt like a game—hide-and-seek—

when being found was just the giggling end of child’ play?

I imagine you felt loneliness, hollow like hunger stiffening the spine,

making you both suddenly taller, focused, afraid. You thinned

in captivity, slipped like a splinter through a wooden cage, outsmarted

your demise, cooked up the villain in her own evil plan.

Lucky, later, sitting around a warm fire, back in a mother’s embrace.

There is always hope that your childhood isn’t lost,

still room to play princess and pirates, catch fireflies

in glass jars, dress up and sing silly songs.

That in those nights you did not grow up too fast,

and tomorrow you are back building fairy castles in your

sand box, that innocence was not the price you paid.

(TL 2009)

Toni Lefton has taught creative writing, literature, and composition at the Colorado School of Mines since 1999. She is also a published poet and writer.

Julie Riley is married to iE Founder and President Brad Riley

No comments

As I reflect on our past year as a new organization it has been amazing to see what has emerged. My personal journey with the issue of human trafficking began in the mid 90’s. My parents attended an event where the speaker was sharing about his work in rescuing women and girls from forced prostitution in Calcutta, India. This especially hit home for my father who had witnessed this issue first hand as a soldier in SE Asia. He died in 1997 and we set his memorial fund up to benefit the women and girls from India.

In 2005, I was fortunate enough to rally some people to help fund the building of a transition home for older girls preparing to leave their safe home. In 2006 we took a trip to visit and within hours of landing in Thailand we were face to face with the issue. That week in SE Asia changed everything and a three-year journey to establish a non-profit has become a reality. iEmpathize is an arts and advocacy non-profit whose mission is to bring light to the darkest places of injustice affecting children while providing a way for individuals, universities, businesses, and faith communities to become a part of the solution. In the past year, we have developed a small leadership team, staff, a team of creatives, and mobilized an incredible movement of volunteerism. We have produced an educational art exhibit, a powerful short film, and many events engaging diverse audiences. But most of all, we have partnered with some amazing grassroots efforts in SE Asia to protect, intervene, and restore vulnerable children.

We are so excited about 2010. In addition to our existing programs, we are launching our “we” empathize business initiative, engaging the US domestic issue of child trafficking, expanding into Eastern Europe, and more. Here is our program and current project portfolio:

iE Domestic

Empathy Experience - A mixed-media, multi-sensory art exhibit that educates and engages the US public on the child trafficking issue in SE Asia.

Film and Forum - Screenings of our short film followed by a captivating conversational forum.

Benefit Concerts - We promote concerts with iE integrated media. Diverse artists and audiences partner together for concert experiences that benefit children.

2010 Domestic Projects

Truckers Against Trafficking - Partnering to produce an industry training film on US trafficking awareness; how to recognize it and stop it.

Domestic Trafficking Exhibit - A mixed media, multi-sensory art exhibit that educates and engages the public on the US child trafficking issue.

Scooter Hero: A Ride and a Rally - Citywide publicity, awareness, and fundraising events inspired by our Cambodian field partnership.

iE International

Cambodia - We participate in funding a coalition of 40+ Cambodian organizations working in prevention, intervention, and restoration.

The Philippines - Safe-home support.

Thailand - Safe-home support.

2010 International Projects

Eastern Europe Trafficking Partnership and Exhibit - Collaboration with NY Times best selling novelist benefitting prevention projects for the children of Moldova, Romania, and Russia.

Thanks so much for being empathizers!

Bradley Riley

iEmpathize President

No comments