Healing for Trafficked Children
A dark thin film drifting in the air began to seep into our lungs as we stepped into the chilly warehouse. It almost felt foggy inside. The smell of mold worried me. But my need for thirty doors for my ArtPrize 2014 installation portraying trafficked children brought my son and me to this place.
After spying row after row of beautiful weathered doors, I forgot my respiratory concerns. Then I discovered that these doors came with a price tag. It didn’t take genius math skills to realize that purchasing thirty doors would be an expensive venture.
So I decided to ask the young woman behind the counter if I could talk to the owner. She directed me to another building. After listening to my passionate plea, the owner graciously said, “Select thirty doors, and I will take a look at them.” Not knowing exactly what he meant, I thanked him and hurried back to the warehouse.
For the next hour, my son and I sifted through doors. Our hands and clothes became filthy with grit and our fingers were numb. We set aside a few doors, and the woman behind the counter directed us to an adjacent warehouse.
The second warehouse was dimly lit. We even could see our breath. As we ventured deeper between the narrow rows of doors, I kept thinking: This is just the kind of place to stash at-risk children. A creepy place.
An hour later the owner came to see my doors. After carefully checking them, he was quiet for a moment and then said, “$35.00 for all thirty doors.”
Overwhelmed with gratitude, I started crying. Touched, the business owner hugged me. Six hours later, after two trips back and forth from the wrecking company transporting the doors, I launched The Scarlet Cord installation with $35.00.
