I’ve never liked Charlese Jones very much. As the bully in my first novel, The Skin I’m In, she tormented thirteen-year-old Maleeka Madison, the girl in the book who is most like my younger self. So, why write a novel based on such a character? In many ways, it’s a no-brainer. Char is unforgettable.

Strong-willed and in need of love and guidance, Char kicks those close to her. Still, educators and students clamor to learn what makes her tick. Their interest in her goes beyond the pages of my book. Has Char’s life improved? they ask me, as if she were a real girl. Will she ever go live with her grandparents? Is she still stuck in seventh grade? My answer was always the same. I do not know. As an author, once I’ve completed writing a novel, I don’t continue to communicate with characters or plot out their next moves. But like many readers, I could never completely get Char out of my head.

The Skin I’m In has defined a generation. Readers tell me that it helped them find their voices and feel proud and positive about who they are and how they show up in the world. Before I wrote it, I don’t believe I truly understood the power of books to make a difference. Now I know that literature can also be a survival tool. In many cases, it arms and equips us. It can help us untangle the threads of our lives, and better connect us to ourselves as well as the world at large. Young people inherently understand this. Which is why so many teens and tweens read the same book half a dozen times or more. I cannot tell you how many people have read my work. But I can tell you that millions of them are young people.

Today, young people around the world need us more than ever. Which is exactly why I wrote The Life I’m In. And why Charlese Jones is the perfect protagonist to tell the story and shine a light on a global pandemic, human trafficking, which disproportionally affects women and children.

Against all odds, Char endures and survives the insidious and inhuman world of human trafficking. As the novel unfolds, readers witness her life spiraling out of control. Char no longer attends school. She continues to grieve for her deceased parents. Her sister insists she leave their family home. Independent, yet naive, Char decides to live on her own. Challenges abound. Money and other resources evaporate. At her wit’s end, she encounters an adult who has made hundreds of thousands of dollars preying on children.

This book was a particularly difficult journey for me. For starters, I had to develop a real relationship with Char, to like and empathize with her. Then there was the subject of the book itself. I’ll admit—there were weeks I could not read the articles and reports I had tracked down or go over the interviews I had done. Human trafficking is a horrific, immoral crime against some of the most vulnerable people on the planet, especially our young. To tell this story, I could not shy away. To write the novel, I had to step into the lives and minds of these young people, to remind the reader every step of the way that these are our children, worthy human beings, while also showing the brutality and viciousness they are subjected to day and night. It’s a delicate but necessary balance. I thank my editor, Andrea Davis Pinkney, who helped me walk it.

In 2000, the United Nations Palermo Protocol to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons established a commonly accepted definition of trafficking. In short, human trafficking involves the exploitation of vulnerable individuals for profit, by way of fraud, force, or coercion, in an effort to engage them in commercial sex or to obtain, recruit, harbor, or transport them for labor or services. It is the second most profitable illegal enterprise in the world, after drugs.

Human trafficking may occur in one’s neighborhood, in the office, on farms, in factories, in eateries, or near schools, group homes, and other institutions where young people are served. Traffickers may be male or female, our neighbors, strangers, employers, or even relatives. Based on the United Nations Palermo Protocol and the Victims Protection Act, trafficking may not always involve a person being transported from one location to another.

According to Polaris, the organization that operates the National Trafficking Hotline, “human trafficking is a $150 billion global industry that robs 25 million people around the world of their freedom.”

Trafficking survivors are among the bravest, most self-determined people on the planet. To work through the trauma they experience may take years. Yet, these individuals serve as a beacon of hope for many. A host of organizations and individuals around the globe stand with them to help combat and eradicate this plague. Some of those groups include survivor advocates, governments and NGOs, trauma-informed centers, child welfare organizations, law enforcement, religious organizations, the United Nations, and everyday citizens like you and me.

No city or town is too small to join in the fight. Conducting research, I learned of a number of initiatives taking place in Erie, Pennsylvania, a city near Pittsburgh. At the time of this writing, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Northwestern Pennsylvania were working to pass legislation that would make it easier for victims in public spaces to find out what trafficking is and how they could get help. The legislation will also educate travelers who may not know what human trafficking is. The Crime Victim Center of Erie offers trauma-informed counseling, prepares survivors for their day in court, works closely with law enforcement, and helped over five thousand victims in 2018. A thirty-eight-member group in Erie has taken a holistic approach to tackling human trafficking by bringing together survivors, social justice experts, law enforcement, government officials, higher education representatives, and others.

If you or someone you know is a victim of human trafficking, please contact the National Human Trafficking Hotline at 1-888-373-7888.