Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Would i be willing?
If there is one thing that i wish i could do with my photography, it would be to take that one photo that would truly start a movement. Just one thing that would change the way people think and how they see the world. I want to take a photo that would truly change everything. But as i look at it if my one photo would bring hope to just one person just one soul, to make him step back from a cliff, to make him put down the gun, to not down a hole bottle of pills, to stop him from taking his life. If that one photo would give someone hope and see that their life is worth living that would be just as good and I would thank God for giving me the opportunity to do such a thing…. but what if i did not see the out come what if God told me to take a photo post it online and i had no idea why? What if I knew i was suppose to do something and i just had to settle for knowing that God is taking care of it all. In the long run it is for the glory of God and not my own. God gave me this gift and passion for photography and if he told me to do something why do i need to know what its for. Yes it would be nice to know that through God using my art i was able to help someone, But when i step back and think about it im fine with not knowing.
God use my art as you please, I give it all to you. Thank you for the chances and opportunities you have given me. Amen.  

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Story of Love 146



In 2002, the co-founders of Love146 traveled to Southeast Asia on an exploratory trip to determine how they could serve in the fight against child sex trafficking. In one experience, a couple of our co-founders were taken undercover with investigators to a brothel where they witnessed children being sold for sex. This is the story that sparked our abolition movement.


"We found ourselves standing shoulder to shoulder with predators in a small room, looking at little girls through a pane of glass. All of the girls wore red dresses with a number pinned to their dress for identification.

They sat, blankly watching cartoons on TV. They were vacant, shells of what a child should be. There was no light in their eyes, no life left. Their light had been taken from them.  These children...raped each night... seven, ten, fifteen times every night. They were so young. Thirteen, eleven… it was hard to tell.  Sorrow covered their faces with nothingness. Except one girl. One girl who wouldn’t watch the cartoons.Her number was 146. She was looking beyond the glass. She was staring out at us with a piercing gaze. There was still fight left in her eyes. There was still life left in this girl...

...All of these emotions begin to wreck you. Break you. It is agony. It is aching. It is grief. It is sorrow. The reaction is intuitive, instinctive. It is visceral. It releases a wailing cry inside of you. It elicits gut-level indignation. It is unbearable. I remember wanting to break through the glass. To take her away from that place. To scoop up as many of them as I could into my arms. To take all of them away. I wanted to break through the glass to tell her to keep fighting. To not give up. To tell her that we were coming for her…"

Because we went in as part of an ongoing, undercover investigation on this particular brothel, we were unable to immediately respond. Evidence had to be collected in order to bring about a raid and eventually justice on those running the brothel.  It is an immensely difficult problem when an immediate response cannot address an emergency.  Some time later, there was a raid on this brothel and children were rescued.  But the girl who wore #146 was no longer there.  We do not know what happened to her, but we will never forget her.  She changed the course of all of our lives."

-Rob Morris
President and Co-founder