[You might] notice I'm holding cue cards.
I'm holding cue cards
because they are going to help me to focus on my message
while at the same time
shielding me from painful memories and intrusive thoughts.
Because my story isn't an easy one to tell.
In fact, every time I tell my story,
I'm retraumatized.
But if sharing my story
means that one more girl has a chance at freedom,
then it's worth it for me.
Growing up in my family wasn't easy.
Mental health problems and abuse
can destabilize a family.
But abuse doesn't just exist in a vacuum.
It doesn't just start or stop in one individual's life.
It permeates every action and activity of their being.
Mental health problems and abuse
led to neglect,
and neglect left me on the streets of Scarborough
a very young girl.
I distinctly recall going back to school.
I remember each year, the teacher would ask us,
"Write down what you did that summer."
I was so ashamed; I was paralyzed.
I didn't go to summer camp.
No, I didn't go to the cottage.
I was the kid that played outside all day long.
There was no regular structure.
There was no routine for most anything.
One summer, I was raped by a stranger;
another, abused and degraded by the neighborhood boys.
I was always in fight-or-flight mode.
It seemed like danger was lurking around every corner.
What I learned that summer
was how to remain hypervigilant, how to avoid attack -
something that no young girl should ever have to learn.
But it didn't stop with the neighborhood boys.
I would later be abused at the hands of a multi-generational pedophile.
And it was his words that kept me trapped.
When he said,
"Your parents won't love you anymore if you tell on me,"
in my isolated environment, I believed him.
And my behaviors started to reflect the environment that I lived in.
I don't remember a time back then
when my body ever felt like my own.
At 17, I started moving from club to club.
I first started stripping.
Then later, I worked for a smut magazine,
where I would meet
some of the most dangerous people I've ever encountered.
Still, I was on this never ending quest
to have some form of agency over my own body,
a source of power I had never had before.
One day, my phone rang.
I was looking at my gas gauge, sitting on empty.
It was my old co-worker from the magazine company.
He called me to tell me he was running Toronto's largest massage parlor,
and he wanted me to come and join his stable.
The word "stable" didn't even give me pause.
Well, on the outside, it looked like a normal business,
except it wasn't.
This massage parlor had 10 rooms, and they were always busy.
There were between 40 to 60 women and girls on rotation in the spa.
A massage was between 40 and 50 dollars.
We'd get a 10-dollar commission
if you didn't have a fine.
And you could have a fine for just about anything:
being late, talking back
or not having a perfectly primped body.
It was expected
that the girls could earn considerably more money
by doing extras.
And by doing extras,
I am talking about some of the most unimaginable and degrading acts.
Police raids,
they occurred in these places,
but no police officer, no bylaw official ever offered me help.
No one ever said, "Hey,
is there somewhere else you'd rather be?"
or "I know somebody you can call.
Can I connect you two?"
And this would be my life for the next nearly nine years.
Maybe you're listening to my story
and you're thinking, "How foolish is this girl!"
But I wasn't foolish.
I was vulnerable,
I was naive
and I was a perfect target.
I didn't have a sense of belonging.
I didn't feel wanted or valued for anything other than my body.
I had started to deceive myself:
"This is my choice. I'm making this money."
But in hindsight,
there wasn't much choice involved at all.
This wasn't work; it was trafficking.
I was told how to dress,
who to have sex with,
where to live -
everything.
I felt scared almost all the time.
The man who recruited me,
he manipulated me
into thinking and believing that he was my protector,
my boyfriend,
except he wasn't.
He was my trafficker, and I was little more than his property.
Over time, he made me a manager -
made me.
This was not an act of saving me.
This was not a promotion.
This was him trying to build his status and grow his power.
On paper,
he ran a licensed body rub parlor.
This allowed him to look like a legitimate businessman.
This license
allows you to rub, knead or stimulate any muscle in the human body.
Officially,
these words don't mean that sex is on the menu,
but my experience and that of thousands of others
suggest differently.
Somewhere between the letter of the law,
the predatory practices of massage parlor owners and operators,
the willingness for police to look the other way,
our city has created the licensed brothel system.
A massage parlor keeps the schedule,
manages all of the advertising
and fields all of the calls,
freeing up a trafficker to look for another victim.
Buyers,
they don't have to go to a seedy motel.
Massage parlors and holistic centers,
the ones on the way to and from your home and work,
they provide a facade
of acceptability,
safety and option
on a woman's part.
But even worse,
the fact that all of this happens inside of a licensed system
means that we are enshrining a man's right
to buy a living, breathing human being.
That's what we're talking about.
This is what sex trafficking looks like in Canada.
It is the brothel hidden in plain sight,
where women are trapped and, many, enslaved.
And here, all of us,
all of us are deceived into believing
that what's happening is a woman's choice.
You see, our cities license these parlors and holistic centers.
And in their point of view,
they're not officially granting a license for a brothel,
but they are well aware of what's happening behind closed doors.
Not all massage centers are like this.
No, legitimate owners, they're not open until 4:00 am.
They don't advertise their staff in scantily clad clothing
on escort websites.
So how are these types of massage parlors,
how are they able to thrive?
Here in Canada, each municipality
has the power and control to grant the licenses for their area.
The higher levels of government, they know that these problems exist,
yet they take no responsibility
by saying that they don't make the decisions,
the municipalities do.
Even one of our more celebrated and successful politicians
was found inside a massage parlor, with no negative impacts to his career.
It's as if we're saying, "We're okay with this."
But I refuse to believe that; I just simply don't.
I was in a meeting
with the most high senior officials from Municipal Licensing.
I specifically asked.
I said, "You guys know that this isn't just massage, right?"
Their response?
"Yeah, we know that these are just fronts for brothels."
Everyone knows about this problem,
yet no one is taking the lead to solve it.
I eventually escaped my circumstances.
I literally slept for three days straight.
It was my soul that hurt,
for where there was no hospital.
Discovering my faith in a supportive community
guided me to seek counselling,
where my journey to recovery began.
Because you see, getting out is one thing,
but staying out, that's just as hard.
With this understanding, I started BridgeNorth.
I want to be a part of the solution.
I want to help end sex trafficking in Canada.
We offer services to women.
They'll contact us for peer mentorship and support,
medical care, food assistances,
many other services as well.
We also provide-
I'm sorry, we also provide public education,
and we advocate to change our laws
because this problem is still so hidden in plain sight.
There really are more victims out there than you think there are.
Some enter this dangerous world like I had;
others, children and youth,
they're lured out of foster care, group homes, shelters,
or from their own families.
The common thread
is that traffickers look to exploit the vulnerabilities of their victim -
common thread, all the time.
Where I was trafficked, there were up to 60 women working.
The massage parlor I was at made under just two million a year.
That doesn't include any of the money
made in the rooms by the girls -
that's what we know as the trafficker's cut.
It doesn't include any money made by going to after-hours parties
or by other things, like selling drugs or weapons.
Imagine for a second, that's just one.
Imagine thousands of these places across Canada.
Well, as a survivor,
I believe we have to tackle the systemic problems
that foster trafficking in the first place.
That's why in 2014,
I spoke out against sexual exploitation
before the Justice and Human Rights Committee.
I helped to lobby for the passing of a bill,
called "Protection of Communities and Exploited Persons Act."
We advocated for Canada to adopt the leading practices from Sweden.
This Nordic model,
it penalizes the buyers
while helping women to exit.
This bill was passed and is now law,
yet still, we're not seeing very much action at all.
We're not seeing arrests of buyers,
we're not seeing adequate funding
for services that women need to heal and recover.
So, here and now, we have this legal framework
but we don't have it in use.
From Canada,
who is normally such a leader on so many fronts,
a country that's known for women's empowerment
and for gender equality,
yet still, we need action to match our intention.
So where do we start?
Well, first, we need to abolish sex trafficking.
Its harms are inherent
and simply cannot be licensed or legislated in a better way.
Second, women trapped should be given support to help them exit.
These women, they need to be safe from the repercussions of bad actors.
And finally, we need more support from people like you,
just like you.
I have spoken to numerous federal and municipal government officials,
and they all say the same thing to me:
"I can only address what my constituents bring to my attention."
Write them,
call them,
tell them that women being exploited and trafficked inside of massage parlors
is not acceptable.
In conclusion,
it takes just one person - it really does.
I share my story today because I'm free,
and that freedom I cannot take for granted.
I believe everybody in our country should have that same right.
I'm sharing my story today
because I am hopeful.
I have seen, I have witnessed
the strength inside of the women we're talking about.
These women are future leaders,
entrepreneurs,
moms;
they are game changers.
All they need is a chance, just like the one I had.
It took one person.
Her name was Kathy;
her husband, Jim.
They each extended a hand of love to me.
They both had shown me again what humanity was all about,
and they assisted to bring back my self-worth.
And that is something that you can do for someone else too.
(Applause) (Cheers)
Thank you.
(Applause) (Cheers)