By David N. Krough, TJJD Communications —

Child trafficking survivors call Midland Juvenile Probation Officer Vicki Maestas the “teen whisperer” for her abilities to help them transcend trauma and begin healing.

She has dedicated her life to help identify and support those at-risk in West Texas for more than two decades, providing youth with the resources and care they need to recover and thrive.

January is National Human Trafficking Prevention Month when law enforcement, interagency partners and non-profit organizations are actively engaging with the public to raise awareness and eradicate this crime.

According to TJJD’s Regional Program Administrator Carmella Sanchez, the Midland Juvenile Probation Department (MJPD) is leading a crucial effort in addressing child sexual exploitation and trafficking through Maestas’ work.

Maestas earned her Associates Degree in Psychology from El Paso Community College and her Bachelors in Social Work from the University of Texas at El Paso. She has worked as the Youth Development Coordinator for Border Children’s Mental Health Collaborative since 2007, is a member of several community organizations and of the Governor’s Office Child Sex Trafficking Team (CSTT) designed to address and prevent child sex trafficking across the state. Maestas is also Trust-Based Relational Intervention (TBRI) certified.

Maestas recently spoke at the West Texas Juvenile Probation Chief’s Summit in Fredricksburg about her work as a Commercially Sexually Exploited Youth (CSEY) advocate.

Texas ranks second for human trafficking, behind California and just ahead of Florida. This is due to the accessibility of Interstate 10, running the length of the border as the main highway for traffickers, Maestas says. Midland and Odessa are known hotspots for human trafficking because there is a high demand for labor, resulting in a large transient population.

While working in El Paso in 2017, Maestas was presented with a plan to open a halfway house for youth in probation who had been trafficked and had grown out of the foster care system. The Governor’s Office approved a grant that allowed her to purchase a five-bedroom house. The house needed some remodeling work, but members of Maestas’ church family pitched in and helped and there was room for four young women to move in.

Her rules at the time were simple.

“I would tell them there are three conditions that you have in my home,” she said. “Number one … I go to church and Bible study every week. You don’t have to go, but you won’t hinder me. And then number two, I have two dogs … and you have got to love them. You might not like them (but) you’re going to love them. You will leave before they will. And the third one was that they can’t have drugs (or) sex in my home.”

Maestas found her first resident while she was working at the runaway shelter. The girl was known as a chronic runaway and asked Maestas if she could move in.

“I knew you from juvenile probation. You’re a runner,” she said she told the youth. “She said I promise … I’ll stop. So, she was my first girl. I had eight different girls.”

For many, Maestas said she felt like a mother figure to them, sharing dinners, caring for the dogs and attending church every week.

She ran the home in El Paso for nearly five years before moving to Midland to join the Juvenile Probation Department.

More than 60 percent of child trafficking survivors have been in foster care or the juvenile probation system and in most cases, know their traffickers well.

“A large number of them know the perpetrator personally,” she said. “The father, the mother, a grandmother, a teacher … a lot of people.”

In many cases, Maestas finds that the youth she serves are disconnected, even unaware of the fact that they are being exploited. She recalled one case of an accused man avoiding a trafficking conviction after the youth survivor’s testimony acknowledging the suspect had never illegally forced her to do anything.

The defense attorney asked the girl “Did you ever say, ‘I don’t want to go?’ She says no. He said, ‘did you get new clothes? Did you get nails?’ She said yes. ‘Did you ever tell one man in that hotel room no?’ And she said no. But this 16-year-old girl, because (of) the clothes she had on and because she didn’t say no to a guy that was really forcing her” he effectively got away with it, Maestas said.

Such cases can illustrate the subtle ways in which criminals are able to manipulate youth at an age where they are susceptible to authority figures and peer pressure.

“I used to do the same thing … we blame the (youth) right? We go ‘what were you doing? Well, where were we? Why were you there? What clothes were you wearing? Were you online? Did you have too much to drink? Maybe that’s what happened,’” she says.

“Should they be abused or trafficked because of the clothes that they wear? No.”

Maestas also made a clear point to remind others about referring to the youth she works with as survivors, rather than victims.

“I’m not going to go up to a young girl or a young boy and say ‘oh my God, you’re a victim, come with me, you’re a victim,’” she said. “You’re a survivor because I’m trying to get an advocate working with you. Most of the time you’re out (of danger) – so you survived it.”

Maestas explained the current use of the Commercial Sexual Exploitation-Identification Tool (CSE-IT) used in juvenile justice, education, runaway and homeless youth agencies to calculate the risk of kids for trafficking. The CSE-IT is not an investigative or legal tool, but is used as an informational tool for those who work with youth to inform next steps, such as mandatory reporting. The categories indicate No Concern, Possible Concern, or Clear Concern.

Out of 281 assessments by the CSE-IT since September 2022 to date, Maestas said there were 25 possible concerns and 12 clear concerns identified in Midland County.

Statewide, TJJD currently has 655 youth with a possible concern and 180 have a clear concern for commercial sexual exploitation.

Maestas has engaged a broad network across communities and agencies in pursuit of serving youth at risk.

“I was overwhelmed when she took me to the first meeting how many agencies were involved,” Maestas’ supervisor Midland Chief Juvenile Probation Officer Jeff Layva said. “FBI, state, county, local, school districts and just all the regular nonprofit agencies, all them, and even though there’s that much of a task force, (trafficking) is still a problem. It’s overwhelming.”

Staff say Maestas excels at communicating with not only the youth, but with their families and who to call for help at any time.

“I have to admit I take a little bit of pride in saying I have my special agents … I know who to call,” Maestas said. “They’re in my phone right now. We deal with FBI, DPS, Midland County Sheriffs, Midland PD, the rape crisis center, the hospitals because you have got to build those relationships with your community to make sure that they see that your youth need them. And I can’t do it all, but I have a community in my department that I know backs me up. And I have a community outside in Midland County.”

One case Maestas recalls involved a girl, Elizabeth, who was on probation and had disappeared.

“One of her friends, I figured out, was a recruiter,” she said. “Because guess what? If I’m a 19-year-old girl and I don’t want to do this crap (any) more, guess what I’m going to do? “I’m going to go (and) find some girls that will.”

Elizabeth’s mom got Maestas’ number and called for help.

“’I don’t know what to do, I need to find her,’” the mother said. “And I said OK, let’s see if she comes back in a couple of days.”

A couple of days turned into six weeks and by then, the recruiter had informed Maestas that Elizabeth had tracking software on her phone and then the search was on. They were tracked first to El Paso, then through New Orleans, Atlanta and on to Washington D.C. Maestas and her contacts in law enforcement and county agencies were able to trace Elizabeth’s whereabouts, gather and share tips on the case.

Maestas said Elizabeth’s mother was relentless in helping, fielding late night and early morning phone calls, sharing information along the way with local and federal agencies.

“The other girl that Elizabeth was with had told her sister they were on their way to have fun in New York City, but they had a stop in D.C.,” Maestas said. “How many precincts do y’all think there are in D.C.? But I called every crew in. We knew when the bus was going to land.”

Eventually, the tracking software pinpointed a hotel in the Fairfax, Virginia area. After another series of calls, a rollercoaster of dead-ends and signs of hope, Maestas was told to be patient and wait.

“I get another call (that afternoon) and It was an officer,” Maestas said. “She said we have your girl and I said OK, I have got to direct you to apprehend her … and so they were able to get her on a plane and we got her back all right.”

“Her mother texted me about two or three weeks after,” Maestas recalled. The text said: “Ms. Vicky, remember when we first spoke on the phone? I was laughing … like this old white lady really thinks she can help me with my child? I … didn’t have much faith in you. Who would have thought you’d be the one to help me save that same child’s life. But we did.”

Elizabeth’s trafficker was arrested, charged and recently sentenced to 30 years on federal charges for taking three youths across state lines. Elizabeth is currently pursuing a career in the health field, Maestas said.

For those involved in juvenile justice, Maestas says there are certain red flags to be aware of that may indicate human trafficking. She said she has personally approached youth who appeared vulnerable and in a potentially suspicious situation in public.

“I would much rather ask and somebody gets angry, than I would not ask at all,” she said. “Because if somebody would have asked a little bit, just one time ‘where are you at?’ Because she didn’t look 19, or 21, (the girl) looked 16 or 17. And just provide them a safe place. There’s no one they can trust.”

Maestas said her role has gone far beyond just helping with immediate needs to helping them navigate the systems in place to provide resources.

Sometimes they just need somebody they can talk to, she said, and she is willing to be that somebody. “God gave me that passion to help anybody I can.”