From Street Kid to CEO

From Street Kid to CEO

WRITTEN BY -

I met Vi on the streets of the city in a chance encounter one Sunday afternoon.

He was walking along an alley, shoe-shine kit in hand, as I walked in the other direction. I could see the anticipation in his eyes as he plucked up the courage to practice on me the only words he knew in English: “Hello, shoe shine?”

It was 2003, and I had been in Vietnam for less than a year. I was teaching English to Economics students at a university and in my spare time had started running classes for street kids.

Some of my university students, as well as a handful of foreign friends, pitched in and on the weekends we had classes and soccer games that Hanoi’s shoe shine boys could join for free.

At that time, there was no “Blue Dragon” or “Not For Sale Vietnam” – we didn’t even have an idea to start a charity. We were all volunteers, doing something good for the kids.

Vi was typical of the city’s street kids at that time. Aged 15, he quit school and left his home in the countryside to come and earn money for the family. His mother worked in Hanoi as well, selling fruit or collecting scrap for recycling. Everything they earned was keeping Vi’s siblings in school.

What started as a chance encounter turned into a much longer story. Vi just wanted to shine my shoes but instead I invited him to join an English class.

Six months later, the idea for starting a charity called Blue Dragon had formed and we were getting ready to open our first shelter. Vi was one of the original six residents, and we employed his mother to look after all the kids.

“What started as a chance encounter turned into a much longer story. Vi just wanted to shine my shoes but instead I invited him to join an English class.

– Michael Brosowski

Not wanting to return to the classroom, Vi joined various training programs, starting with IT and English. Then an opportunity came up to work in one of Hanoi’s finest restaurants, and Vi’s career as a barman began.

He could have had a long career in hospitality but after 6 years Vi came back to work at Blue Dragon. We needed someone to work on the streets at night looking for homeless kids, and Vi was eager to help. But with one caveat: just for 6 months, he told me.

More than 12 years later, Vi is still with Blue Dragon. He’s built up a team of social workers who go out on the streets every day and night of the year to find children who are sleeping rough. He’s moved into a senior management role, leading a team of almost 40 professionals caring for children who have been abused, trafficked, or neglected.

And now, he’s about to take on a whole new challenge.

Not For Sale Vietnam partner’s Blue Dragon is a little unusual in that we have two CEOs, as a way of handling the complexity of our work. For the past two years, Skye Maconachie and I have been the co-CEOs leading our organisation through the turbulence of COVID.

We have an incredible team of 115 staff and as an organisation we directly assist over 10,000 people a year, all around Vietnam. I am immensely proud of our impact, of the team and its many leaders.

Now I’m ready for a change. I am not leaving Blue Dragon; simply stepping into a new, more focused role of Founder and Strategic Director. And in making that move, an opportunity for a new co-CEO has opened up.

Among a field of excellent candidates for the job, Vi stood out. He has the skills, the passion, and the vision to be our next co-CEO along with Skye.

Everything about Vi’s story is inspiring. He’s overcome incredible hardships in life and every step of the way has sought to help others. During his first interview for the co-CEO role, our first question was: “Why do you want this job?”

His answer: “So I can help more people. As a CEO I know I can have more impact.”

Vi’s journey from a street kid to a CEO reminds me how much potential there is in every child. That chance encounter on the street almost 20 years ago has led to countless lives changed for the better.

His vision for Not For Sale Vietnam partner’s Blue Dragon? In his own words: “I want to inspire and empower passionate leaders within our organisation and society. We need to create a safe, agile environment and a culture of staff sharing, caring, and standing up for what’s right. And we need to connect with the world, sharing our mission so that we will inspire the world to act.”

Alongside Skye, Vi is going to be an inspiring and visionary leader. Most exciting of all: I know that Vi is already looking out for the child who is homeless or in slavery today but might be taking over from him in the years to come.

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Love Finds A Way

Love Finds A Way

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Mảy didn’t fit the typical profile of a victim of human trafficking.

Happily married and with an infant son, Mảy was excited about the future. She and her husband, Sinh, lived in a small town high up in the spectacular mountains of northern Vietnam. Many families around them were poor, but Sinh was a school teacher, so their lives were stable and their future looked promising.

Looking after their little boy all day, Mảy started to think about getting a job. She simply wanted to contribute more to her family’s income. With her own mother living there in the same house and able to help with childcare, it seemed sensible that she might at least try.

So when she met someone on Facebook who was offering to connect her with a job in another city, Mảy was curious. At least, she thought, this was worth looking into.

He knew that his wife had not abandoned him – and was determined to find her. He committed to doing everything he possibly could to bring her home.

– Michael Brosowski

One day while Sinh was at work, Mảy’s online friend messaged her unexpectedly with some surprising news. She was travelling through a nearby city – not very far from Mảy’s home!

Mảy was suddenly excited. Her home life was so quiet and predictable; she rarely had visitors or chances to make new friends. Without hesitation, she set off to the market to meet this lovely person she had been communicating with. Mảy left her son sleeping under the watchful eye of her mother.

That night, Mảy did not come home. Her loving husband, Sinh, returned from work with no idea where she had gone or might be. Mảy’s mother was very worried and their little boy was distressed. But from Mảy, there was nothing. Only silence.

In the coming days and weeks, Sinh did everything he could to find out what had happened. Had Mảy left him and abandoned their son? He refused to believe it possible – they were so in love. They were happy together.

The days of not knowing where Mảy was, if she was dead or alive, filled Sinh with terror.

And then, one day, the phone rang.

Mảy was in China. Her call to Sinh was filled with panic and fear.

She had met her online friend at the market, and they had travelled into the hills for some sightseeing. But the friend had other motives: a gang was waiting outside the town to take hold of Mảy and sell her to a man who was willing to pay for a Vietnamese wife.

Mảy fought and resisted, but she was overpowered. It was a full month before she could even find a way to call for help. Making that call put her life in danger, but she didn’t care. Mảy would do anything to be back with her loving family.

This call from Mảy both horrified Sinh and empowered him. He knew that his wife had not abandoned him – and was determined to find her. He committed to doing everything he possibly could to bring her home.

Sinh reported to the police and contacted anyone who might help, including Not For Sale Vietnam partners Blue Dragon. The phone number gave us a clue as to which city she was in and from there we could track Mảy down to an outlying suburb. Armed with that information, we sent a team to start the search.

Sinh called us daily, hoping for news that Mảy was safe. Every day of waiting was a lifetime of agony.

Within a month, we had found Mảy. Locked inside an apartment, she had to wait until the man who had bought her was out shopping, and then break down the front door to escape. It was frightening, but successful. Mảy was free.

We brought her back to the border and after a short stay in COVID quarantine, she was finally back together with Sinh and their baby son. Sinh rode his motorbike over 200km of treacherous mountains to meet Mảy the moment she was released from the quarantine centre.

Mảy’s ordeal of being trafficked and sold will haunt her forever. Now that she is home, she wants nothing more than to be with her family. Love found a way to bring Mảy and Sinh back together, and now every new day is a precious gift of life.

 

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Dirty Word

Dirty Word

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Phuong had to pretend that she was sleeping.

Every second was more terrifying than the last. She had a chance to call for help, but everything depended on the family being asleep. She had to act in complete secrecy.

The risk of being caught was high. The consequences could be deadly. But after three years in slavery, Phuong was desperate.

She had been trafficked from her home in southern Vietnam and sold as a bride to a man in China. Back home, she had a child. She lived in extreme poverty and had never been able to find a steady job because she was illiterate and physically disabled. A trafficker took advantage of these multiple vulnerabilities and tricked her.

Phuong had thought she was going to find a job. Instead she became a slave. And every moment of her 3 years was consumed with the question: How could she get back home?

That night, when the house was in complete silence, Phuong slipped out of the bedroom and made a frantic, whispered phone call. It was her first contact with her family since she had been taken.

Not For Sale Vietnam partners Blue Dragon received the call from her family the next day, and within a week we had set in motion an operation to rescue Phuong and bring her home.

This might require bravery from our staff, but the real hero of the rescue is the survivor. The act of calling for help, as Phuong did late one night last November, requires a courage close to super human.”

– Michael Brosowski

Every week, and sometimes every day, we receive similar calls for help. These are typically from the families of girls and women, and sometimes boys and men, who are trapped in slavery. They are people who were tricked and manipulated; made to think they were going to a good job or traveling with a trusted friend.

In every case, they are desperate.

And so Blue Dragon conducts rescue operations to bring them home. So far we’ve brought over 1,000 people home from slavery.

However, in some circles “rescue” is a dirty word.

It implies bravado and danger. It reeks of a “savior mentality”. And sometimes, it’s just plain confusing. Various people and organisations use the word “rescue” to describe many different activities: providing scholarships to vulnerable girls, meeting and counselling homeless people, or even distributing emergency food supplies.

Because of this, the word “rescue” has earned a bad reputation.

But for Not For Sale and Blue Dragon, the act of rescue is a vital humanitarian tool. We are responding to a call for help; finding people who are reaching out and need a hand to escape their situation.

This might require bravery from our staff, but the real hero of the rescue is the survivor. The act of calling for help, as Phuong did late one night last November, requires a courage close to super human. She is safely home now, but the risk she took to make that call could have led to her being beaten, resold, or even killed. (You can read more about her rescue and return home here).

Blue Dragon’s rescues are not raids and we never use violence. We find the safest way possible to get someone out of danger, and back to the safety of their home.

And that’s not the end of the rescue. Even once someone is home, with the violence and danger far behind them, Blue Dragon continues providing support in every way we can: legal representation, psychological counselling, medical treatment, schooling… even help to start a small business or find a job.

This “follow up care” is not as dramatic as the initial rescue, but it’s vital to ensuring that the rescued person is really, truly safe. 

 

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Impossible

Impossible

WRITTEN BY -

We thought that Lan was dead.

Her last call to the Blue Dragon Rescue Team late one night in March 2020 delivered a chilling message.

Please say sorry to my family. Tell them I love them, but death would be better than one more day of this.

Lan was 26. She had been trafficked from her home in Vietnam across the border into China when she was just 21 years old.

“Human trafficking can be defeated. We can do this; we only need to try.”

– Michael Brosowski

After five years of being held in slavery, raped and beaten repeatedly by the man who bought her, Lan found a way to call for help.

Her call reached Not For Sale Vietnam partners Blue Dragon, but the COVID pandemic had just begun. The border between Vietnam and China was closed; travel within both countries was heavily restricted.

The first time Lan thought she might find freedom, she was denied it.

We tried everything to reach her. And when we knew that we couldn’t, we resorted to comforting her, assuring her we would find a way.

But for people in slavery or situations of domestic violence, lockdowns are more than an inconvenience. Being locked down means being trapped in the same space as your abuser, all the time, with no relief. For Lan, the lockdown exacerbated her already-terrifying situation.

That night, she tried to take her own life. She did not succeed.

Since then, her traffickers watched her more carefully, reducing any chance she might have to call again for help or to attempt an escape.

Until now.

This week, Blue Dragon reached Lan. More than a year since we thought it was all over, feared we were too late, we found her. She is free.

Lan crossed the border late in the week, back into Vietnam, and is now in quarantine. We don’t know how long she will be there, because a new COVID outbreak has caused havoc across the country, but Lan is finally safe. The worst is surely behind her.

Every call for help demands urgent, immediate attention. COVID has made it so much harder for Blue Dragon to find and rescue people from situations of slavery, but it has also increased our resolve.

Because we can see how much more dangerous life is now for the poorest of the poor; how much more risk is faced by people who are jobless and desperate; how much more violence women and girls are facing when they are locked in with their abusers.

Lan’s rescue and return home seemed impossible this time last year. Now the impossible has happened.

Human trafficking can be defeated. We can do this; we only need to try.

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The Pinky Friend

The Pinky Friend

WRITTEN BY -

Mai is seven years old, and has always lived in fear.

Her mother loves Mai and her younger brother and sister very much, but their home is dominated by their grandmother, whose violence has ruled their lives since birth. Their mother is powerless to protect the three tiny children.

Domestic violence in Vietnam is often seen as a private matter, for families to sort out for themselves. When children are the victims, it may be seen just as a matter of harsh but necessary discipline – and the right of the parents, or grandparents, to decide.

Mai and her siblings endured severe beatings every other day. The neighbors and community around them simply could not look away. When a call came to NFS Vietnam partners Blue Dragon asking for help, the children bore bruises on their faces and bodies that spoke of deeply disturbing abuse.

Through our daily work, we often see young people in desperate situations. But the sorrow on Mai’s face was like nothing else.

Police came and started the process of investigation. Statements from the children. Interviews with the mother and grandmother. Reports from the local community.

Mai and her brother and sister had entered the very adult world of criminal investigation and judicial processes… but they are safe.

Taken into Blue Dragon’s care, they had their first proper sleep in many months. Nothing to fear, no screaming and no beatings. And most of all, each of them slept for the first time with a new friend – soft toys that they clung to through the night.

“All that has happened, and all that is yet to come, may be too complex and horrible for Mai to understand. But with her pinky friend in her arms and a safe bed at night, she knows she is going to be OK.”

– Michael Brosowski

For Mai and her little brother and sister, these dolls are more than just toys. They are friends to hold onto, to see them through the many changes that they are now going through. A new home. New beds to sleep in at night. New people around them, speaking with quiet and calm words that are unfamiliar to them.

Everything is different. But Mai’s friend, a soft pink toy dog, goes with her everywhere.

In a play session one day at Blue Dragon, Mai told the psychologist: “I will bring my pinky friend wherever I go as she makes me feel that I am not lonely. But she has a hole… Can you help me with that?”

Her psychologist ensured her that they could patch up the hole to make her pinky friend beautiful again. Mai smiled happily and told the soft creature, “You don’t need to worry. I will protect you just like you protect me.”

All that has happened, and all that is yet to come, may be too complex and horrible for Mai to understand. But with her pinky friend in her arms and a safe bed at night, she knows she is going to be OK.

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COPING MECHANISMS

COPING MECHANISMS

Written By Ellen Falltrick (NFS Supporter)

“What kind of painting do you do?”

That is equally the most daunting and exciting question I am frequently asked as an artist. How can I quickly and impactfully explain that my large paintings depicting nudity, death, pain, self-harm and sorrow are not some kind of odd kink, but pay homage to the people that survive such tragedies. 

How do I make easily digestible the complex, painful and inspiring stories that inspire my artwork? How could I possibly illuminate the emotional turmoil, perseverance and recovery necessary to make these paintings beautiful?

Because, they are. These horrible paintings are beautiful.

My hope is that by donating funds from the sale of the Coping Mechanisms paintings, I can help to provide peace and emotional release to those that need it most.

Ellen Falltrick

In truth, I cannot easily elaborate on the inspiration behind my work which is why I fear such a question. However, to the right audience – for the attentive listener – it is the most valuable question to reach my ears. Asking me to explain my painting may be difficult to answer, but it allows me to share my vision for creating art that empowers survivors of extreme adversity. 

Painting has always been more than a hobby for me; it is the way that I express the feelings that are not easily spoken. What started as an outlet for my own feelings, challenges and triumphs quickly became a method of sharing the stories of others that were brave enough to confide their adverse experiences in me. 

I was approached by women in abusive relationships with their partners or employers, men who had been raped, people who had felt trapped, lost or hurt in a myriad of ways. As honored as I felt to receive their grief, I also felt the need to release the weight of their stories through art. Incorporating their experiences into my paintings not only allowed me release but – more importantly – honored their strength, recovery and survival. Although I do not label my paintings with the names of the people that inspired them, they know who they are; they know the depths of their own strength, courage and perseverance and, should they ever forget, they need only look at one of my paintings. 

These many stories culminated in my latest series, Coping Mechanisms. Upon completion of this set of paintings, I felt extreme peace. In fact, the emotional release was so strong that I felt guilty for keeping the healing to myself. Therefore, I pledged to donate 40% of the proceeds of the Coping Mechanisms show debut to people with stories similar to those that inspired me. Not For Sale seemed like an obvious choice to receive these funds, considering they serve those that have experienced one of the most severe adversities: sex and labor trafficking. 

Not For Sale’s mission to rescue survivors of trafficking and prevent future exploitations aligns well with my passion for empowering those that have survived exploitations of all kinds. My hope is that by donating funds from the sale of the Coping Mechanisms paintings, I can help to provide peace and emotional release to those that need it most. 

Coping Mechanisms is on display in Chico, CA at Tin Roof Bakery through January 31st. However, a virtual viewing option will be available at www.ellenfalltrick.com through February 28th. Online purchases are encouraged through the site, at which point, the painting will be shipped to the buyer’s location and 40% of the purchase price will be donated to Not For Sale.

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