What’s the most lucrative business in the world? Who are the most successful money-makers? Google? Nike? Starbucks? Oprah? No, not even Oprah.
Slave traders rake in the biggest bucks in the world: $32 billion a year.
In a packed theater inside the Beltway in northern Virginia, a most motley audience gathered. With a man in a sharp suit to my left and young girls in t-shirts and track pants to my right, we sat down to watch a rockumentary about an issue that has brought together a distinctively varied group of people. This was not your typical group of policy wonks—and that was the point, to get outside policy circles and inside groups not yet tapped for activism. After all, the fight against slavery has brought together activists from Chuck Colson to journalist Nicholas Kristof, from former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright to Rep. Chris Smith and Ambassador John Miller. It’s a beautiful collage.
But it’s really not a surprise to find us all on the same platform.
The issue of human slavery cuts to the essence of who we all are as humans. The truth of who we are transcends ideology and political party. We all yearn for dignity and freedom, significance and acknowledgment. The value of our personhood is something we all “get,” and desire to defend and preserve. And when we see that dignity violated—in the vilest way, in this case—we naturally recoil, and demand justice, regardless of our politics or religion, nationality or race.
And so in this film, Call + Response, attended by a diverse gathering of those who care, we heard the voices of Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission and Ambassador John Miller married with those of Dr. Cornel West, Kristof, and Albright. They all spoke the same message. And while they spoke, musicians -- from the Christian singers of Switchfoot, to Jewish reggae singer Matisyahu, to child-soldier-turned-hip-hop-artist Emmanuel Jal -- sang to give voice to the oppressed.
Yes, the group was definitely an eclectic mix. Kudos to musician Justin Dillon for bringing them all together to deliver a singular message, calling for justice in the issue of human trafficking. And the message needs to be told. Twenty-seven million souls caught in the horror of human trafficking are calling out and waiting for our response.
“In music,” according to Wikipedia, “a call and response is a succession of two distinct phrases usually played by different musicians, where the second phrase is heard as a direct commentary on or response to the first.” The entry continues,
In Sub-Saharan African cultures, call and response is a pervasive pattern of democratic participation—in public gatherings in the discussion of civic affairs, in religious rituals, as well as in vocal and instrumental musical expression. It is this tradition that African bondsmen and women brought with them to the New World and which has been transmitted over the centuries in various forms of cultural expression—in religious observance; public gatherings; sporting events; even in children’s rhymes; and, most notably, in African-American music in its myriad forms and descendants including: gospel, blues, rhythm and blues, jazz and jazz extensions. . . .
Call and response is likewise widely present in other parts of the Americas touched by the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Known under the Spanish term coro-pregon, it can be found in Afro-Latin music based on religious chants.
I wish I could remember the exact words that Dr. West used in Call + Response to describe the practice of call and response in music among slaves of nineteenth-century America. He said something to the effect that by answering the call and continuing the exchange—by responding—you acknowledged the one who began the call. So with its tie to music and to slavery, Call + Response is the perfect title for this film.
A little background: Fair Trade Pictures, Different Drummer, and International Justice Mission, or IJM, are presenting this film. Also involved in the film are Free the Slaves and Shared Hope. The film was funded completely by donations, and 100 percent of profits will go back to global field projects and charities involved in fighting slavery.
In the film, actors like Julia Ormond, Ashley Judd, and Daryl Hannah were point-blank in their description of the horror of trafficking. And the footage is stark—jarring even. Yes, you could take your high-schooler to this documentary, but realize they don’t sugar-coat the issue. Like Wilberforce taking the aristocracy on a nice little boat ride past a slave ship, allowing them to linger among the stench of death emanating from the ship, this film focuses your attention on the very real evil happening to people—happening to children—around the world right at this moment as you’re reading this blog.
“Humankind cannot bear very much reality,” said Dr. West, quoting T. S. Eliot. Facing this awful reality—hearing that call by the oppressed—viewers of this film cannot help but respond.
Around the venue Thursday evening you could see some of the posters and t-shirts that I believe were from IJM. Black shirts were emblazoned with the missive “Seek Justice”—one of those requirements the Lord has of us. Recently, blogger Catherine Larson raised the question on her mind lately resulting from her writing on Rwanda: What is the end goal of justice? On this issue, I think it was Kevin Bales of Free the Slaves who said in the film: the eradication of human trafficking in our lifetime. After all, Wilberforce and the Clapham Circle achieved the abolition of slavery in 20 years some 200 years ago.
It can be done. But it requires commitment. After all, the slavers are committed to what they’re doing—and they’re succeeding. But as Haugen noted, traffickers know that the commitment of abolitionists doesn’t match theirs. We must prove them wrong.
But why musicians? Producer Justin Dillon was hit by this issue after a trip to Russia opened his eyes to the evil of sex trafficking happening under everyone’s nose. And he thought about what he could do—he can play a guitar and sing. But does that do anything to combat this darkness? Much. "Music is the only thing,” said Emmanuel Jal, that can “speak into your mind, your heart, and your soul without your permission.” It causes you to linger on this issue, to contemplate it more deeply, and to let it prick your heart and elicit action.
So, no, I wouldn’t say this is just an “awareness bubble” for this particular decade, or the social justice issue of the day taken on by artists to win brownie points with fans. As this film was presented, what I saw was the beginning of the 21st-century abolitionist movement, as Ambassador Miller put it, with today’s abolitionist songs. Justin thanked those in the State Department and other government agencies “for letting some freaky artists get through security.” In that same vein, he called on the audience to use what talent and abilities they have to join the new abolitionist movement. Justin played the guitar and sang (well!).
Well, I’m a single mom with a limited income—and limited time, as you can imagine. What can I do? I’m starting with these posts on Call + Response, and I’ve joined the Facebook page. I do so in hopes of an echo effect—that someone will read this and use what they have to join and further the movement, and continue the chain of call and response. I’m hearing the call and responding in my way—and perhaps someone will hear my call and respond in their way. And if we’re all doing this, the exponential effect will be deafening.
But regarding Call + Response, here are five specific things you can do:
- Click on “Act” at Call + Response’s website and register your participation (lots of ideas are there).
- Place a trailer and/or web banner on your blog or website (see the downloads).
- Join the film’s Facebook “causes” and MySpace page—then invite your friends.
- Invite 5 friends to join you at the theater on opening weekend (October 10).
- Post 10 flyers at your work, school, coffee shop, and/or church or community gathering.
You’ve heard the call. Now—what will your response be?
(My post originally appeared at The Point.)
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