The fight against human trafficking often feels like a marathon of resilience, driven by passionate people who pour their hearts into seeking justice for survivors. But as much as this work is fueled by individual dedication, it’s equally hindered by the systems meant to support it. Recently, I had the opportunity to sit down with two of my friends, both deeply involved in coordinating our county’s anti-trafficking efforts. What began as a casual conversation quickly turned into a deep dive into the challenges we’re facing. Our conversation highlighted just how complicated and frustrating these challenges are, even in a country with strong leadership and support, and left me reflecting on the complexities of this work.
One of the major topics we discussed was my friend's recent reassignment. Internally, this reassignment is celebrated as a promotion, but it carries a significant ripple effect that impacts the survivors she’s been fighting for. As our county's DA over human trafficking cases, she’s been deeply committed to this work, but like many district attorneys, it’s normal to be reassigned after three years. After three years of ardent support and learning everything she could about trafficking, she was just beginning to feel fully equipped for the role. Now, all those survivors who have spent years trusting her with their stories are left wondering what happens next. How will they feel now? Will they feel abandoned or disillusioned when someone new, who wasn’t there to witness their stories firsthand, steps in? Will their cases receive the same care and attention from the next prosecutor? Can justice still be served by someone who wasn’t there to hear their pain directly?
Human trafficking prosecution is as much about instinct as it is about facts, and that’s something not easily gleaned from reading reports. This isn’t just about transferring a file to the next person in line—it’s about handing over years of understanding, intuition, and the trust survivors have built with the prosecutor.
These leadership changes, while they may seem routine—even celebratory—from the outside, have a ripple effect that reaches far beyond the individuals involved. Every time a DA or detective is reassigned, there’s a loss of continuity that can’t be easily replaced. It’s not just about following procedures—there’s a deep, instinctual understanding that comes from years of experience, from sitting with survivors, from knowing the ins and outs of these cases, from witnessing the effects of the coercion of traffickers as they play out in a person’s life, from watching them fight for healing and really knowing what’s at stake. And that understanding is lost when someone new steps in, no matter how capable they are.
Unfortunately, this kind of turnover isn’t limited to prosecutors. Detectives are often reassigned or promoted after only a few years as well. In our county, we’re currently down to just one part-time detective dedicated to human trafficking investigations because the full-time detective is on leave due to injury, a leave that will persist for at least a year. Well-meaning and well-deserved officers' rights prevent a reassignment while on leave, but the impact will be significant. This reality hits particularly hard in a state like ours, California, with one of the highest rates of trafficking, yet our local task force is now expected to operate with only half of a detective for the foreseeable future.
Child welfare, too, faces these systemic hurdles. I’m currently involved in a case where it seems like the doors should be knocked down at the mother’s home, where we all know something terrible is happening. But turnover in leadership at the highest levels of county child welfare has left the entire system scrambling, and I can’t help but wonder how much this chaos is thwarting action.
As advocates and anti-trafficking professionals, we’re often left to bridge these gaps, to ensure that the transitions are as smooth as possible for the survivors who have already been through so much. But it’s hard not to feel the weight of these systemic challenges. I often find myself frustrated, especially when I sit with a young person who bravely reported their abuse or trafficking, only for months or even years to pass with no resolution. It’s hard not to question why justice takes so long—why arrests aren’t made, why investigations seem to drag on endlessly, why that kid is left in that home, in that cell, or without a home altogether. But when I reflect on the conversation I had with my friends, I’m reminded that so much of it comes down to systemic issues beyond individuals control.
These realities highlight the challenges we face, but they also offer a chance to ask important questions: How can we better prepare for transitions? How can we ensure that survivors don’t feel the loss of continuity when someone new steps in? How do we create systems that support long-term engagement and understanding, even when turnover happens?
In reflecting on all of this, I’m reminded that while it’s easy to feel frustration towards the individuals within the system—towards the cop who didn’t make an arrest, the social worker who didn’t follow up, or the prosecutor who didn’t push a case forward—the real challenge lies within the system itself. And that’s where we have the opportunity to make a difference. These are systemic issues that create barriers for even the most passionate and dedicated professionals. But they are also issues that we can address, together, by advocating for better funding, more support, and stronger systems that allow for continuity, even in the face of inevitable change.
These are the things that keep me up at night. They’re also the questions that drive me to keep pushing for change. Because until we address these systemic barriers, we will continue to see individuals—survivors, law enforcement, prosecutors, and advocates alike—caught in a cycle of frustration. And that’s something none of us should accept. Together, we have the power to change these systems and ensure that the fight against trafficking is as resilient as the people leading it.