Leveraging Privilege for Better Advocacy
The quintessential, if not overtly stereotypical, college experience commonly includes a few necessary ingredients: a cupboard full of on-sale pasta, a bookshelf of grossly overpriced textbooks, and a basket of clean (but nonetheless unfolded) laundry, along with a handful of all-nighters and narrowly-met deadlines.
When one’s college years occur within the unusual setting of Malibu, California, a few other events become rather customary: friends inviting you to go to the beach between classes, bumping into B-list celebrities in the grocery store (most likely while trying to purchase discounted pasta during an all-nighter), and wondering why anyone would choose to pay $18 for a kale smoothie. I will be the first to admit that being a college student in an affluent, oceanside, tourist-filled, vacation destination is far from ordinary.
Don’t get me wrong, I have loved my four years at college and could not imagine studying at any other university. But, sometimes, I have a hard time connecting my passion for advocacy to my “ordinary” life. Sometimes I forget that while slavery and trafficking does happen in faraway places and victimizes faraway people, it also happens right here in the place that I have the privilege of calling home.
Sometimes, I forget that people are subjected to trafficking and abuse by traffickers in wealthy beachside communities, just as they are in crowded urban factories. Southern California is, amidst its palm trees and surplus of avocado toast, a hub for trafficking. It frequently tops the charts for US states with the greatest numbers of both trafficking victims and perpetrators of trafficking. Southeastern Asian nations are often cited as destination spots for those wanting to engage in sex trafficking, but towns that are familiar to me are guilty of exploiting trafficked individuals for the same purposes. While Los Angeles is frequently known for its celebrities, dream-chasers, and sandy beaches, it is also the source of much injustice and corruption.
The appearance of luxury, prosperity, and privilege does not preclude the existence of injustice. It merely allows these injustices to be more easily obscured.
Part of the challenge in connecting advocacy to my day-to-day life stems from feeling as if modern-day slavery occurs only in places that struggle politically, economically, and socially in profound ways: in ways that I, on a day-to-day basis, do not struggle. And yet, it is crucial that I be able to recognize the privileges I have been afforded so that I can use them to benefit those who have been taken advantage of.
Human rights advocates with socioeconomic privilege have a responsibility to leverage this opportunity to become more effective and informed advocates. What one individual is able to do will differ based on circumstance and ability. You could support anti-trafficking organizations, host parties that provide education about modern-day slavery and anti-trafficking efforts, or join Dressember’s campaign or 5k fundraiser. But beyond taking these tangible steps, it is crucial to be able to recognize the signs of trafficking, know how to respond, and be aware that trafficking can happen anywhere, even in places that seem far from obvious.
I am extraordinarily fortunate to study in a place as beautiful as Southern California. But living in a beautiful place should not prevent me from acknowledging that trafficking may be occurring just down the street. Nor should it keep me from being able to recognize trafficking if and where it occurs as I go about my day-to-day life.
We all have a role to play in dismantling the presence of modern-day slavery in our local communities and in the world. You may have the very resources, knowledge, or experience that someone in your community needs to become a better advocate for themselves or even to escape a trafficking situation. As you work to become a better advocate for change, what opportunities can you leverage within the context of your own hometown or sphere of influence?
About the Author
Holland Freeman is a Pacific Northwest native and pine tree enthusiast studying Religion and Conflict Management at Pepperdine University. She is keen on exploring this lovely earth by lacing up her running shoes, backpacking through the forest, and journaling on a European train heading who-knows-where. She plans to continue in her passion for advocacy and human rights through graduate studies in the field of Theology and Peace Studies.