How Amor’s, Miami Tattoo Company, fights Sex Trafficking: When The Dust Settles
Long after the dust settled on the, Golden State Tattoo Expo in Pasadena, one story stands out. It’s a David and Goliath tale about a woman who fights the multi-billion-dollar sex-trade industry with her art, soul, and a tattoo machine.
Amor Sierra, owner of Miami Tattoo Company, carried her briefcase to the top of corporate American for 20 years. After reaching the stars at the height of her career as a senior manager for a top multi-housing investment company, she packed it in and left that world behind because her faith in God called out to her, “I received a clear calling in my soul from God to quit my job, so I resigned and left a six-figure-a-year income to do just that”.
It was unclear to Amor exactly what God had in mind for her life, but it didn’t take long for her to find out, “Two months after resigning I found out about human trafficking in America through the organization, End It Movement and the A21 Campaign. I was gripped by the horror and wanted to get involved. Doors started opening for me, I met a man selling his studio in Miami Beach, we talked about tattoo removal for victims of sex trafficking. He told me he wanted to sell his studio; 30 days later and my life-savings, I was the new owner of Miami Tattoo Company."
Amor’s research left her with the images of the haunted eyes of young girl’s. She saw girls tattooed with their pimps name in a variety of places; across the chest, the neck, arms, eye lids, legs, pubic bone, and face. The tattoos vary from crowns, bags of money, and barcodes. These girl’s wander the streets of America without hope of escape, brutalized, humiliated, and tortured. Amor helps in this horrific fight against sex trafficking by removing the tattoo that designates the girl as property belonging to a soulless-sex-trafficker.
One college age girl’s story is a familiar one. Emma (a made-up name, but the story is real) went to a party with her girlfriends to let off some steam after midterms. One minute she was having fun drinking, dancing, and in the next the world went black. She awoke the next morning unaware of what happened the night before; she was alone, naked, bloody and beat up. Two older men came into the room she didn’t recognize. Disheveled and scared and still thinking she was safe, Emma tried to cover her nakedness and battered body. She edged to the side of the bed wanting nothing more than to drag herself home. The men, obviously not college age were menacing, deadly. When Emma asked to leave, Polaroid’s were thrown on the bed around her. They showed her having sex with multiple partners and men standing around cheering them on. In spite of the pictures Emma asked, “Please let me go home” the men resorted to further blackmail tactics. They taunted her, “Do you want your father to see these? How about the Dean?” Confused and full of drugs she went with the men reluctantly. She became the property of the pimp who arranged the party with an associate male (a male student). The pimp paid for several of the girls at the party that night (they have similar stories). Once Emma became the pimp’s property she was tattooed with his name. The “boy next door” college student who setup the flesh-for-sale buy was paid a hefty fee for his cooperation.
When juxtaposed against the previous story this one is why “God’s calling” for Amor’s life makes, Miami Tattoo Company stand out. A shattered and malnourished 18- year old came to Amor for non-LASER tattoo removal. After the property-mark was removed by Amor the tattoo cover up was done by one of the studio artists. The girl choose a turquoise blue butterfly in flight. “She is one of the lucky ones”.
The lucky ones find their way to, Amor’s, Miami Tattoo Company and organizations like hers that make a stand against this bloody overwhelming fight against human trafficking. The unlucky ones are found by police on cold pavement in back alleys, they are the ones who refuse to comply with traffickers, pimps, or handlers. Some of these girls are hopeless, tired, or trying to run; often they’ve been tortured before they’re discarded their throats slit, in extremes cases identifying marks like heads, hands, and teeth are removed so the body won’t be identifiable to the authorities or loved ones.
One 13-year old girl was kidnapped in her pajamas when she stepped outside for a minute to talk to a “new girlfriend”. As she leaned closer to the window she noticed two older men in the car, they grabbed her before she could back up and threw her lithe body into the backseat of the car. The car sped off into the night and this girl was told they would kill her or her family if she tried to scream or let anyone know what was happening to her. The man sitting in the backseat pointed a 9mm Glock at her head and asked, “Do you want it in the head or the back?” She believed he’d do it. She whimpered. When they arrived at a dirty, dingy hotel room she was introduced to seasoning.
Seasoning is a common practice as old as Roman slavery: it involves the stripping of individuality, distortion of time, sensory deprivation . . . beatings, rape by 20 – 30 men. The men and women perpetrating these crimes have faces, next door neighbor faces, strangers who blend into the background; “Lover boys” who trick naïve girls into thinking true love awaits; he’ll give her the love she deserves, a house, new clothes, if she will marry him, trust him, love him. For a while he appears like everything she ever dreamed of. He may bring her flowers, take her on shopping trips before he turns her out . . .
Children, and young adults are terrified, alone, and often full of drugs. What would you do? Now, imagine being 13 . . . look at your daughter, your son, and realize teenagers, preteens are taken right from the driveway with a loving mother and father 30 feet away.
How does a child or a young adult assimilate back into society after 5-10 years of this experience? They are forced to have sex with 25-45 men per day at twenty-three to fifty dollars for 15 minutes. Each terrified girl makes a pimp from, One hundred-ninety-four thousand to Three hundred-twenty-four thousand per year. A staggering figure when you consider it. Imagine owning 10 girl’s, 20, 30 . . .
Know this, while you sat in your comfortable living room watching the Super Bowl the sex traders were working overtime behind the scenes, they are organized and vigilant. Behind the glossy Hollywood glamour of America’s Super Bowl a predator stalked your son’s and daughter’s. Where were they while you watched? Remember: They’re out there watching, waiting, they adapt to their environment and blend into the crowd. Most importantly they prey on vulnerability. Still think sex-slavery can’t touch you in suburbia?
Make a difference against human trafficking, help stop a sex trafficker from selling a child, or grabbing another one. It’s not easy to fight a giant with only a sling-shot, but it starts by finding the perfect rock and loading it. When the dust settles over sex trafficking, Amor at Miami Tattoo Company and her team of artists; Jean Alvarez, Jean Avila, Juan “JB” Bautista, Nick Sandstorm, Jane Marie Arvelo, Bridgett Dearing, Channing Herald, use a tattoo machine to bring down the monster in our midst, one tattoo removal at a time. How will you make a difference?
For more information on non-LASER tattoo removal contact: miamitattooco.com
Written by: Pamela Brown
Pamela is an acclaimed writer and editor from the Los Angeles area who has lived a life that only Quentin Tarantino could properly portray. She’s a rock and roll, Frida Kahlo, ninja, bootlegger kind of woman who takes no shit and gives a fuck about your name. We love her… God do we lover her!
Tags: adolescence, amazing ink, Amore, branded, consequences of trafficking, death, Guttah Life, homeless, hope, hopeful, human trafficking, johns, kidnapping, making a difference, Miami, Miami Tattoo Company, murder, non-laser tattoo removal, pimp, police, prey, reaching out, sex, sex for sale, sex slavery, Sex Trafficking, slave trading, Super Bowl, tattoo, tattoo ink, tattoo removal, tattoo's, terrifying, traffickers, When the Dust Settles
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