When the Safety Net Fails
Emily Baumgaertner Nunn’s article in The New York Times (October 26) reveals something many of us may sense intuitively, but rarely name out loud: as the public safety net for families disappears, the sex trade becomes more visible and more horrifying. In neighborhoods where prostitution has always existed, the streets are now filled with younger and younger girls, many under the age of 13. According to the article, underage girls fetch higher fees for their traffickers. On Figueroa Street in Los Angeles, more than 50% of the underage girls are reported to be runaways from the foster care system.
What makes child sexual abuse so hard to face is the sheer enormity of it. It’s not just one thing. It’s the web of systems and absences that funnel children into danger. Nunn points to multiple forces converging: children falling through the cracks during the pandemic when schools couldn’t track attendance; drug traffickers shifting into sex trafficking, which proves more lucrative and less risky; under-resourced police departments unable to respond; and social media platforms where 'would-be boyfriends' or 'new friends' lure young girls (and boys) into exploitation.
There are, and have always been, unsafe households that children flee, often after experiencing sexual abuse. And parents struggling with trauma or addiction who cannot protect their own. Now, there are a plentiful supply of traffickers; men who boldly run their “stables” and, disturbingly, may seem like parental figures offering more structure than the chaos these children come from.
It’s overwhelming. And it begs the question: what can those of us who are not in danger of losing our children to foster care do?We can be the informal safe(r) adults. We can model decency. Say the quiet, corrective thing that plants a seed. We can be the unofficial grandparent or auntie to the child on the block who needs some extra attention. We can remind those around us that every adult is responsible for every child they know or encounter. Not in big ways, necessarily, but in small ones. We can offer a kind word and hope to those growing up in homes that do not build them up.Sexual harm can be overcome. Healing is possible for all individuals. But the deciding factor is community. We don’t need to “rescue” every child, not even one. What we do need is to be the kind of community member who adds to the dimensions of safety, rather than staying neutral or worse, taking away from it.This work isn’t always done with children. More often, it’s with the other adults we influence. Every time we talk about the nuance of sexual harm to young people, even briefly, we raise the bar for what is expected of the adults around us. We chip away at the silence. We offer a small dose of exposure therapy. Because if we can’t talk about it, we can’t see it. And if we can’t see the opportunities to intervene, support, or prevent, we’ll miss them.And the cost of that silence is high, in a country that is rapidly pulling back the safety net for families. When there are not enough safe adults to hold up the children, that is all our problem. If we don't step up to take responsibility, we all pay the price.