Shelby County still ranks as the highest-risk county in Tennessee for human trafficking, despite broad state efforts to strengthen penalties for traffickers.
The ranking comes from Engage Together, a Wyoming-based national thought leader on human trafficking. The group’s latest report says Shelby County has a Vulnerable Population Index (VPI) score of 100 percent. This score compares public data to determine how susceptible a community is to human trafficking.
State officials say that Memphis’ proximity to Atlanta, which the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) named as a city with high rates of human trafficking, makes it a “hot spot” for the crime.
In Memphis, sex trafficking — forcing people into prostitution — is most prevalent on Lamar Avenue, Elvis Presley Boulevard, Summer Avenue, and Chelsea Avenue. Why Memphis? Poverty, housing insecurity, and food insecurity, the report says.
Many agencies already battle the issue on its front lines here. The Engage Together report shows nonprofits account for about 62 percent of the efforts against human trafficking in Shelby County. The rest comes from the government (18 percent) and churches (8 percent), with the remaining 15 percent coming from individual practitioners, healthcare, education, businesses, and foundations.
More still needs to be done in Shelby County, Engage Together says, to strengthen its network across these multiple sectors to slow human trafficking. The county should also focus more on human trafficking reform and restoration, while also increasing awareness on identifying what the crime looks like. The issue of demand should also be addressed, the group said. And more needs to be done to erase the stigma around the issue.
In 2022, state efforts to address sex trafficking were ranked among the “best in the nation,” by Shared Hope International, a group focused on bringing awareness to the issue and hope to victims. While state officials touted these efforts, the results were not perfect.
The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation (TBI) still reported 1,170 human trafficking calls and tips in 2024. Out of those calls, 178 occurred in West Tennessee, 406 in Middle Tennessee, 208 in East Tennessee, and 327 in Upper East Tennessee. The report showed that 596 human trafficking tips came from social services and advocacy groups. Citizens were responsible for 234, and law enforcement accounted for 97.
Sex trafficking reports involving children were up in 2024, with 514 cases involving minors reported that year, according to the TBI’s Human Trafficking Statistical Report. By comparison, 223 tips of adult sex trafficking were reported in the same time frame.
But the Tennessee General Assembly has come a long way on human trafficking in the last decade. In 2011, TBI and Vanderbilt University released a research study to the Tennessee General Assembly. That report, simply called the Tennessee Human Sex Trafficking Study, outlined the general lack of awareness and information surrounding this dark and dire world.
“Human sex trafficking involves the slavery of children and women forced to perform sex acts for money at various locations across the state for the purpose of making money for their captors,” the report read. “Basically, human sex trafficking is sexual slavery at its worst.”
The report shed light on “shocking” results showing that “human trafficking and sex slavery was more prevalent than many had believed.”
“The ability to prosecute human trafficking under Tennessee’s law with more serious consequences is needed,” the report said. “Heavier sentences for offenders who subject their minor victims to violence and sex slavery, as well as allowing victims to sue their captors under civil laws for damages, would put a more stringent penalty on a horrendous crime.”
Current state law says that sex trafficking for those older than 12 but younger than 18 is a Class A felony and can result in 15 to 60 years of imprisonment. Other violations are considered a Class B felony which carries a sentence of 8 to 30 years.
In the 15 years since that report was published, the state has taken big steps to stop human trafficking, especially with the formation of the Human Trafficking Unit. According to TBI, these efforts, coupled with its commitment to capturing perpetrators by expanding the state’s network to include law enforcement and victim advocacy groups, have contributed to the state’s increased vigilance.
What is human trafficking?
Human trafficking in Tennessee was defined in a 2024 state law as “the commission of any act that constitutes the criminal offense of involuntary servitude, trafficking persons for forced labor or services, commercial sex acts, and patronizing or promoting prostitution.” The law also defines a trafficked person as a victim of a human trafficking offense.
Rachel Haaga, CEO for Freed Life and its program RestoreCorps, expands the state’s 2011 definition of sex trafficking through the formula of “sex plus something of value coupled with sex, fraud, or coercion.” The organization takes a multifaceted approach to combating human trafficking by helping survivors, advocating for justice, and increasing awareness amongst communities.
“Human trafficking has to have all three of those points,” Haaga says. “According to Tennessee law, if somebody is under the age of 18 there does not have to be force, fraud, or coercion.”
Haaga says Tennessee was the fourth state in the nation to change its laws dealing with child sex trafficking. Prior to 2011, anyone under the age of 18 found performing sexual acts with a “buyer” would have been charged with “delinquent prostitution” leading to criminal charges and juvenile detention.
In this situation, the buyer would likely only have been charged with soliciting or patronizing prostitution. Haaga says, and during this time there was a strong possibility the buyer wouldn’t be charged, as it was seen as “low-hanging fruit.”
These societal practices shed light on the inequities in the justice system — specifically in how law enforcement recognized and addressed victims as victims.
“This was just societal and legislative practice until as recent as 2011 for states to see what we would see as a victim — a young person who is having a sex act with a whole adult — that if there was not this value being exchanged, she is clearly a rape victim,” Haaga says. “He is clearly a perpetrator — she is a victim.”
Haaga says while a significant volume of research suggests that human trafficking occurs between female victims and male perpetrators, emerging data suggests juvenile males are also susceptible to human sex crimes, even earlier in age than females.
“The average age of entry for females is 12 to 14, but the average age for males is actually 11 to 13,” Haaga says. “The research isn’t as robust because it aligns similarly with even less sexual assault reports for males because it’s just underreported by the nature of what aligns with male reporting for those crimes.”
To understand human trafficking, many advocates point to the idea that there wouldn’t be a market without a demand. As a result of increased advocacy from RestoreCorps and other groups, the Tennessee General Assembly began recognizing the buyer as “a part of the problem.”
“In any commercial industry, if you can go for the buyer, you can change the industry,” Haaga says. “Through prosecuting buyers well and making them go to jail, you’ll eventually decrease the prevalence of exploitation in your community because there’s not going to be as many buyers, so traffickers themselves will find this a less advantageous way to make money.”
An “invisible gun to her head”
Traffickers prey on vulnerable people through manipulation and leveraging fears “through grooming,” according to the Polaris Project, a nonprofit organization that deals with human trafficking support, services, and accountability,
“It is methodical, intentional, and it works,” the group says. “Indeed, it is the most common way that people — adults and children — wind up in sex trafficking situations. Sex trafficking very rarely begins with a violent abduction, or with a stranger involved at all.”
Laura Walker, executive administrator at Memphis-based Thistle and Bee, says her childhood circumstances contributed to her being a “natural pick” for a predator.
“I was a part of a vulnerable population — single parent household, low-income, parents with substance abuse,” Walker says. “They were able to weasel in and groom me very easily because I was looking for more than my family could provide at the time.”
Walker says the predators preyed on this vulnerability, tricking her into using herself in exchange for money and gifts, as well as love and affection.
A cycle began to form for Walker, as she believed her purpose was solely defined by exploitation. This continued into her adult life, where she made connections and built consistent relationships making it harder for her to exit the industry.
As she reflects on this time in her life, she likens it to having an “invisible gun to her head” to describe being involved in commercial sexual exploitation. Those without lived experience or understanding of its complexities often question why a victim doesn’t just “up and leave.”
“We can’t leave, or we don’t know how, or we don’t have the resources,” Walker says.
She also emphasizes the importance of recognizing victims as victims.
While legislation plays a role in changing the way the state responds and steps in with human trafficking, stigma and preconceived notions still play a role in how society prejudges a sex trafficking victim before knowing their story.
“A lot of times these people were put in positions of force by somebody to commit these crimes or to develop drug addiction to cope with their trafficking,” Walker says. “They’re victims — they’re not just out here trying to break the law.”
Haaga adds that it can be easy to base judgement solely off perception, with many believing survivors enter trafficking on their own volition. This proves to be harmful, and minimizes survivors to monolithic narratives.
“It’s a giant societal question of where we are in the world that we’ve kind of lessened ourselves to be content with labeling other humans and not desiring to know their stories,” Haaga says.
A survivor’s story
Ashley O’Shea says her addiction and exploitation started at a young age, stating that she was stuck in addiction for most of her life.
Trauma from her childhood contributed to a continued cycle of being taken advantage of. From seeing her father killed in front of her, to having a mother battling addiction, to struggling with abusive partners, O’Shea says she was led to the streets as she looked for ways to feel better.
“The way that we live as adults — for example, addiction and the way we’re exploited and end up surviving in human trafficking and stuff — stems from trauma that we had when we were children,” O’Shea says. “Being a victim of molestation and bribery and stuff like that — the door was open. That’s how I learned as a child.”
The complexities of her trauma began to compound in adulthood as she would start the cycle of getting clean, then find herself returning to addiction as a way to cope.
“My mom passed away, and I had my son three days later,” O’Shea says. “That cycled me back into addiction, and my habit ended up taking me out into the street and prostituting — basically exploiting myself.”
This became a means of survival for O’Shea — a way for consistent money. She says she lost custody of her children during this time, and while she did leave her abuser she was “in and out of the jail system.”
O’Shea describes this as her “rock bottom” — the point where she felt so “powerless and hopeless” that she knew she needed help, but didn’t know what to do. All she did know at the time was that she was homeless, on the run, and “going to jail again.”
“More than anything, I was like, ‘I can’t live my life like this,’” O’Shea says. “It’s either, ‘I’m going to keep doing this, I’m stuck’ or ‘I’m going to die.’”
O’Shea found Thistle and Bee through the help of a case manager in Virginia, where she was living at the time. While she regards the organization as being the “best thing” that ever happened to her, she says her healing journey was far from easy,
“[Rehab] was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do — changing everything about my life,” O’Shea says. “When I got to Thistle and Bee, I didn’t know anything — like I was a child learning how to walk and talk all over again.”
She struggled with committing to a life of recovery as she grieved her former lifestyle. These efforts were further complicated by her mental health disorder and going “back and forth” with doctors trying to find the right medication.
About nine months into treatment, she says she began working the 12 steps, which she says signified full surrender.
“That’s when my life started changing,” O’Shea says. “I started wanting this and felt like I deserved this.”
Even though O’Shea is a graduate of the program, she is still healing through therapy. She also uses her lived experience to help and encourage other survivors on their path to recovery.
“All I can do is state my experience, my strength, my hope, and try to give them the ambition,” O’Shea says. “They have to want this and love themselves.”
Samantha Brown, program director for Thistle and Bee, says that increased visibility from the media and other platforms paired with the impact of survivor stories have proved to be helpful in bringing attention to human trafficking.
Brown is a graduate of Thistle and Bee’s residential program, which helps women who have experienced commercial sexual exploitation and addiction. She says the free, two-year program primarily deals with therapeutic services to treat addiction while also dealing with the aftermath of trafficking.
Those in the program are referred from detox centers, 30-day programs, and the Tennessee Department of Corrections (TDOC) as an option for transitional housing. Participants can also be referred by the court systems and hospitals.
Like O’Shea, Brown says sharing her lived experience has not only helped provide healing for others but herself as well.
“Being able to come to a place that didn’t just provide services for my addiction, but also commercial sexual exploitation I had been involved in really since I was a child, has been great,” Brown says.
She lovingly referred to her community in the program as “The Hive” and says its peer-led model allowed them to build a community of trust.
“Everybody’s there to one, fight for their life, but also to find their life and find what their dreams are,” Brown says. “When you’re building yourself up, that light shows to the others. You start to learn what love is, have definitions of what love is, and you do start helping others.”
As she completed the program, Brown was able to go back to school to become a drug and alcohol counselor. She also completed Tennessee’s training to become a certified peer recovery specialist, believing her lived experience would provide insight to the position. She is also currently pursuing her bachelor’s degree in social work at the University of Memphis.
Brown admits she’s still learning what love is, but she’s been able to find purpose in her healing journey. She says her past was primarily defined by questions of fate and why things were happening to her, but she’s now able to figure out “why she was put on this Earth.”
“I find, especially at the beginning of the journey and even throughout, it is nice to feel that love from others even if you don’t exactly know how to share your story,” Brown says. “Having that space that feels safe with people who are continuing to show up and allow you that time to process, and then, when you’re ready, to unpack without judgement, without shame — there’s nothing like that to me.”
Thistle and Bee also operates the Healing Hive & Wellness Clinic for both men and women from infancy and up. This resource offers cognitive behavioral therapy, dialectic behavioral therapy, and more for family members that have been indirectly impacted by human trafficking.
Brown says this was in response to recognizing that the families of these survivors needed therapeutic services as well.
“It was a dream of ours,” Brown says. “It was so needed. I’m just so happy we got this place [last] year.”
This tailoring of services to meet the evolving needs of a survivor’s network is an example of how advocates are committed to sustainable change. While Brown notes they are responsive to survivors’ needs, she’s found that increased awareness has also led the community to respond.
“So many people want to help, but you’re not aware of how to help until you start having those conversations and bringing awareness,” Brown says.