Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/97768
a mericans are increasingly aware of the ugly fact that human trafficking is not something that happens over there, but rather an enormous industry that is thriving right here. Whether it's the farm worker who is held hostage because of a debt to his employer, the maid who has had her papers confiscated by the family she works for, or the enslavement of women and children to work in the sex industry, human trafficking is alive and well in the United States. In our world of complementary care, it is often disguised as free-agent prostitution and marketed as massage. In fact, a website, maintained for and by men who buy sex, lists more than 7,000 brothels posing as legitimate massage establishments nationwide.1 Policy makers are passing legislation in a well-intentioned effort to crack down on these crimes, some of which inhibits and compromises the bodywork industry (see "Massage is Legal; Human Trafficking is Not" on page 82). Even more than our consciences alone would dictate, human trafficking has become our profession's problem, and we need to understand what we're up against. Innuendos and Illicit Inquiries At the age of 29, I transitioned from the hectic schedule of an ad agency to the serene and rewarding world of massage. As early as my first classes at the prestigious Chicago School of Massage Therapy, I found myself on the receiving end of derogatory comments in response to my jubilant announcement that I was studying to be a massage therapist. Jokes at cocktail parties included a derisive, "wink-wink, nudge-nudge," or the common reference to "happy endings." When my business phone was connected, I started getting calls from men asking, "What do you wear?" "Is full release included?" and "What nationality are the girls?" Obviously, these conversations ended quickly, 74 massage & bodywork january/february 2013 but on rare occasions there was no indication that anything was amiss until it was too late. At one point, a would-be client stared at my intake form with incredulity and asked, "You don't really want me to fill this out, do you?" When he realized my massage and his "massage" were two very different experiences, he reacted with irritation, as if I were guilty of false advertising. I've gotten this same response from acquaintances, both single and married men, who'd initially claimed to need a massage to prepare for an upcoming race or complained of low-back pain, but were looking for something else entirely. At first, I thought I was getting more than my fair share of flak, but over time I realized this phenomenon is all too common, something those in our healing profession have simply had to live with. Prostitution exists. Some prostitutes advertise their services as massage therapy. Two professions at opposite ends of the legal spectrum are operating under the same name, causing two separate worlds to be superimposed on one another. People are understandably confused, and our profession suffers as a result. Now, 14 years into my career, I have become more aware of the distinction between free-agent prostitution and