An Anchorage non-profit that claims to help sex trafficking victims recover and find new lives is being criticized by its clients for not providing promised services. A spacious home in South Anchorage, donated to the non-profit to house sex trafficking victims, sat largely vacant from 2016 through 2021, offering little to no help to those who were lucky enough to qualify to receive services.
Funds donated to Priceless to provide for sex trafficking survivors don’t seem to have been used for their intended purposes. One sex trafficking survivor reports being used for cheap labor by the Executive Director of Priceless, with a counselor corroborating that servitude type situations occurred.
Three brave sex trafficking survivors shared their personal stories.
TL first arrived at the Priceless safe house in spring 2019. She had been getting services from the Alaska Native Justice Center. “I was staying at the AWAIC shelter and trying to get a divorce. My paralegal at the native justice center is the one who referred me to get services from Priceless. She called for me and they said yes, I was qualified. They said I could stay there for a short time.”
I first connected with TL in February 2023. I reached out to hear about her experience with the non-profit group.
“I’ve been waiting for someone to ask,” she said, “I wasn’t offered any help. Besides housing.”
According to their website, Priceless walks with sex trafficking survivors as they build healthy, vibrant, self-sustaining lives and connects sex trafficking victims with resources throughout Alaska, resources ranging from emergency and long-term housing, counseling, medical and legal services, job training, education completion, relocation services, mobile food pantry connections, etc.
“The house was usually empty. Sometimes a girl would come in, staying a short time, maybe a few nights. When someone new got there they were given little hygiene bags with a toothbrush and toothpaste. I never saw anyone really get services like they were supposed to. They had this home and no one was there, but they only wanted people to stay there three days at a time.”
She came to the Priceless house as a client and was asked to stay on, giving up her long awaited housing voucher in order to help with a greater purpose.
“I gave up my Alaska Housing voucher. I had been waiting for a long time for it, but Adrienne asked me to stay on as a house manager. It was a hard decision but ultimately I decided to stay.” It was an unpaid position, and only offered housing at the safe house for compensation.
Soon after, she saw that Priceless seemed to be “just something that brought in donations and funding, without providing services that were promised.”
TL said she would have to buy groceries for the upstairs, where the sex trafficking survivors were allowed to live. The downstairs, which was larger, was for the House Manager employed by Priceless, Adrienne Tucker. “She was employed, a paid employee, and was supposed to be the Life Coach for the Priceless House, but no one had her number. She wasn’t available. She would regularly sleep until 2pm everyday and I wasn’t allowed to contact her except during business hours,” TL said.
TL said that during her year-long stay at the Priceless safe house she saw women get thrown out for no reason by Adrienne. “I know they would be so angry at what Adrienne would do to them, and I would think Adrienne would have some consequences this time. But both times, the girls got kicked out. Adrienne had said Gwen would always side with her.”
“It wasn’t like there was a house full, there was never a house full. Every girl that was moved out of Priceless was put back out onto the street. I never saw Adrienne do housing or employment applications with them, or offer any life coach type of assistance.” TL saw first hand what was occurring. “I was there at the house and I never saw one girl get help. The girls that came into the house were never given assistance. I don’t even know the purpose of Priceless.” said TL.
TL would go to Gwen’s homes to clean, ”… she had these huge homes on Hillside, one was an AirBnB, and she would pay me cash. I remember one time cleaning her 7 bedroom home with 4 bathrooms, and she paid me cash, about $60 to $80. I would work 12 hours on some days. I didn’t know what someone should get paid to clean a big house. I had never done cleaning before so I didn’t know the going rate. I worked my butt off and didn’t get paid that much.”
It was during the Spring of 2020 that TL experienced some health issues that were not able to be addressed because of the covid limits on surgeries. Her gallbladder surgery wasn’t a life or death issue for her yet. Things changed at that time and she was asked to move out of the Priceless safe house, with no notice.
She felt used. “When they were done with me that’s when they had me leave. They made me move immediately and Priceless paid for a week, then Gwen paid for a week, at a hotel room. Gwen made sure to let me know she had paid out of her pocket,” TL said, “then that was it. No more help.”
TL shared that Adrienne called her about a year ago to say sorry. “During my life there have been a few people that I have had a hard time forgiving, Adrienne was one of them. I had to say everyday “I choose to forgive Adrienne and Priceless.” I’m not a person to hold grudges, but what they did really hurt me. I look back now and think “wow, they shouldn’t have done that to me.”
I connected with Katrina, who had lived at the Priceless safe house, when I attended the Priceless fundraiser in November 2022 at Changepoint Church in Anchorage. It was a snowy evening, schools were closed for a snow day, but the fundraiser was still on.
Katrina became a client of Priceless’ in November 2019 and lived at the house for a year.
“This is the fundraiser they were preparing me for. They wanted me to be the one to tell Gwen’s story of my ‘rescue’ at this very fundraiser.” Katrina shared with me. She wanted to attend to let Priceless know they didn’t break her spirit, and that she was worthy no matter what they did to her.
Katrina said it was very difficult for her to get services from Priceless when she was referred by the FBI. She was a trafficking victim and homeless at the time, yet she was told there were no openings at the Priceless house and she was offered no assistance. She was told it would be three weeks until someone could meet her for an intake for any help from Priceless.
“They told me to meet at a Starbucks in midtown in three weeks. I waited those three weeks and did what I had to to survive. I went and waited at that Starbucks when it was the day. No one showed. I called them back and Adrienne said she slept in and could meet with me the next week. I called the FBI and they contacted Priceless and I was able to get in that way… I know the only reason why I was able to stay at the house as long as I did was because the FBI agent I contacted would call regularly to check how I was doing.”
Katrina says her time there was uncomfortable and she felt unwelcome. It was just her and one other woman there. The upstairs had two bedrooms, while the downstairs was larger with three bedrooms. “The downstairs was Adrienne’s home. I never really saw her, and she didn’t offer to help me with anything.”
One afternoon Katrina saw a man doing yard work outside. It was the owner of the 15,000 plus square foot house in South Anchorage. He beamed with happiness that he was able to help sex trafficking victims by donating his house.
“I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the house was empty and they weren’t helping, that I actually felt unwanted there.”
During the early days of covid Katrina saw a Facebook post from Priceless with a picture of a baby, calling for donations because the sex trafficking victims were going without food and other necessities during covid.
“I know that one person had donated $10,000 in Fred Meyer gift cards. When Adrienne got those, she gave me one $15 card, and another woman a gift card. She made me feel like I was lucky to get anything at all. I don’t know what happened to the rest of the donations.”
“They went to food banks on Wednesdays and brought those boxes to 8 or so women, then posted “thanks for all the donations we were able to bring for 8 women this week.” I saw church people (Changepoint) donate really good food, but Adrienne would take all the good stuff for her and the girls downstairs (foster girls). I was fine with that, but people donated thinking it was for us trafficking victims.”
Katrina needed a bus pass to get to work, but was told they didn’t have the money. They had told her the entire time she was at the house that they were on a funding freeze due to covid. “I couldn’t understand how that was possible, so many donations were asked for and I am sure they were coming in. I had to stop going to treatment because I couldn’t get to treatment after work without taking a bus.”
Katrina had lost her job because covid had shut things down. “I was out visiting a friend, curfew was at 11pm. They sent me a text at 11:05pm saying my stuff was outside on the porch. I didn’t even try to go back that night. All of my things sat outside for a month, but then when I did get a friend to help me get a ride over there I saw that they didn’t even give me my things back. They gave me a bunch of donated odds and ends in garbage bags. My journal and my clothing weren’t in the garbage bags. The journal had all of my treatment writings and personal writings. Gwen and Adrienne kept things they knew were mine. I felt so violated.”
“I told them how I started out in sex work,” said Katrina, “I had came home and my mom had put all my things out in garbage bags. That’s how I left the Priceless house too. Gwen and Adrienne put all my things on the porch outside in garbage bags. In garbage bags! They did that after everything I had told them. I felt so hurt.”
“I knew they wanted me out. I couldn’t understand why, covid had closed my work down, things in Anchorage were closed down. Adrienne kept asking me about my exit plan. I didn’t have a plan yet. I was still picking up the pieces. I thought she was there as a Life Coach to help me create a plan”
Katrina says she didn’t have the guts yet to speak out about what she saw happening. “It was really bothering me knowing all the lives that could be saved but weren’t. All that money, sent with love, going right into their pockets.”
April was referred by a friend to Priceless in 2016.
She never lived at the house. “They helped me get into my place, paid my deposit and helped me get diapers a few times. Adrienne even gave me a car. She said it needed a gasket, but it ended up needing an engine. They paid for the title and registration, but the car ended up costing me more than it was worth.”
“When I first got with Priceless it was a lot different. In my opinion, better. We had one mentor which was nice. They would ask you about your needs and after about a month, sometime sooner, take you shopping with them or would shop for you. Then they would help you with getting an ID, birth certificate, social security card. They would help with rent on a case by case basis, help with furnishing your apartment with what you needed. Then you were able to graduate but continue to keep the friendship with your mentor as support,” April felt that was the way it should be, “Mentors were there to take you out to eat every once in a while, maybe help you with gas money.”
She attributes her success with Priceless in a large part to her first mentor. Her second time accessing services from Priceless she was matched with mentors that had no idea about addiction. “They didn’t understand why I couldn’t just quit. That’s not how addiction works. If it was that easy, I would have.” Now in long term recovery from addiction, April has gone on to affect positive changes in the community, and is now employed as a peer support specialist in the social services field.
When she excitedly shared that she was pregnant and told the news to one of her mentors, her mentor said, “We are here to help you and here you go and get yourself pregnant!” April was shocked. “The mentor said I was there to work on my sexual issues, I told her I don’t have sexual issues, I am a victim of someone or many who do, but my issue is drugs to numb the pain I feel from having to go through that. Then the mentor asked me, ‘weren’t you a prostitute?’ I said, yeah, at one point in my life.” April felt shamed and condemned.
“My mentor was very secretive, I never knew a thing about her except she was married and had adoptive or foster kids.” April told Adrienne she wanted a new mentor, but that never happened.
When I asked April if she knew any others helped from Priceless, she said she knew of one other person, but she had felt there was more that Priceless could have done. I asked her about the safe house, “I know the house sat empty,” she answered.
“I know it is difficult getting help from Priceless, and I am one of the lucky ones. It was because I stayed on it, I spoke up. Not everyone did,” said April.
“Sure, they helped me get stable, but after I was on my feet they were done. They were supposed to meet up with me a few times, but I was stood up. Even on my birthday, they stood me up, they just seemed to disappear from my life. That was in 2021,” said April, “I don’t feel they helped me with ongoing support. I was shot down or directed to another resource, and when I asked for help for a ticket for my mom who has stage 4 cancer to meet her grandson, they wouldn’t even try. I honestly feel like they have let what once was a good resource just dwindle away.”
TL, Katrina and April all agreed that Priceless arbitrarily picked and chose who their sex trafficking victims were.
Board Members, the FBI and an Anonymous Counselor
I attempted to find and call board members listed on the GraceAlaska 2021 Biennial Report with Alaska Commerce.
I spoke with Stephanie Clary, listed as a director and secretary on the four member board. She had recently moved to Michigan and had sat on the board for three years, she said, “I had an excellent experience with Priceless,” and confirmed that the safe house was no longer in use, but was unwilling to share any information such as dates of operation, due to safety issues. When I asked her how someone gets referred to Priceless for help, she said she wasn’t able to answer that, she wasn’t sure how.
Andre Horton, listed as the vice president in the 2021 Biennial Report, stated he hasn’t been to a board meeting in some time. “I am just on a different path now.” He had lobbying and strategic experience and he was happy to help sculpt the narrative for Priceless and stated he was one of the founding members. “I sit on a few boards and I really felt the work I was doing (with Priceless) helped to change lives,” he stated that when it came to funding and outreach, “the hardest conversations I had were people asking how a faith based organization could help with sex trafficking victims. Faith based help is the last best chance for change, otherwise there will be voids in helping victims, especially with Alaska’s isolated areas.”
Andre shared that the people I really needed to speak to were Gwen Adams and Adam Legg, who were also founding members on the board. I mentioned I had not seen Gwen in the last few biennial reports, “Gwen wanted more of an executive role, to be a part of providing services,” he shared.
I asked Andre what he saw in regards to Priceless’ impact of combating sex trafficking in Alaska, “Adam (Legg) works closely with the FBI, he is the point of contact, and he gives the data, so when someone is rescued, that is someone losing revenue (meaning a trafficker is losing income). That lessens the risk for them to traffick others. When we started Priceless, Alaska didn’t even know what to look for. Now we do, and now we can prevent sex trafficking by lessening the risk.”
In 2018 the Anchorage FBI Division honored Priceless Alaska with the Director’s Community Leadership Award for operating the only safe house in Alaska for victims of sex trafficking.
Understanding that the Anchorage FBI works closely with Priceless I contacted an FBI Victim Services Coordinator to ask about their experience working with Priceless and about the referral process.
“You don’t have to be referred to them, they have a number on their website,” she asked if I had contacted Priceless yet. I mentioned that I had several calls to Gwen as well as to the Priceless crisis line that went unanswered.
“I have heard they aren’t calling back lately. That isn’t the first time I have heard that. Not a program we work closely with for a couple different reasons. I am happy to shoot an email to Gwen to help you.” When I inquired about the FBI award, she answered that the “shelter services have come and gone. We don’t refer to them a lot.”
I was able to touch bases with another FBI agent and was hoping they could shed some light on their experience referring sex trafficking victims to the non profit church group. “The FBI does work with Priceless some…but I only know a small portion of what they do, the victims and survivors that I have worked with, but my understanding doesn’t speak to the entirety of what Priceless does. I cannot answer that question, but I am very interested, it is very helpful for us to know because we have referred people to Priceless. I have not heard a lot of negative feedback, so it is helpful for us to know because we certainly don’t want to be referring people (to Priceless) if there are problems.”
An anonymous counselor who had previously worked at a non profit crisis intervention and advocacy group in Alaska stated that once it became apparent that mentors had to pay for training from Priceless and then they were told sex trafficking victims would sometimes be placed in peoples’ private homes as nannies or caretakers, her former employer became reluctant to refer further clients to them.
The counselor went on to say that they had gone to a fundraiser where a woman had taken the stage and shared how she talked a sex trafficking survivor into letting her adopt her baby because she would provide a better life for the child than the survivor could. It was uncomfortable to hear, and no one said anything about it. The counselor noted there were many high ranking politicians in attendance, “it was a who’s who in Anchorage gala.” They said that they felt people, providers and survivors, were most likely afraid to speak up against Priceless because of the political backing associated with the non-profit.
I contacted STAR (Standing Together Against Rape) and a woman answered the phone. I asked to speak to a director, “I can see if it’s something I can answer.” I wanted to ask their organization’s position on referrals to Priceless. “We do, we have… at times when it’s needed, although I don’t believe we have made a referral in a while.” I was told that a supervisor would give me a call back.
Direct service providers are afraid to speak on the record because of the strong political position Priceless has. It is a small town, after all, said one anonymous service provider.
GWEN AT PRICELESS
I received a return call from Gwen Adams, the Executive Director of Priceless, later that same Saturday after I spoke with the FBI agent. I asked her about services Priceless provided to sex trafficking victims. She is the founder and executive director of Priceless. “We are a networking agency. We provide two mentors and create a case plan, then we work with everyone and anyone to provide services.”
“We take referrals from anybody, we will take referrals, but the client themself needs to call.” Gwen stated when I asked about how someone gets services from Priceless.
Gwen stated Priceless employed 11 people at this time, and when I asked if there were food bank services provided, as listed on their website, she stated there was not.
I mentioned I had called Adrienne several times to follow up with her about services provided at the safe house; Gwen let me know that “she is no longer working with Priceless.”
Gwen seemed a bit apprehensive to speak with me and asked who I was with. I told her I was doing a story about sex trafficking services in Alaska and that I spoke with 3 sex trafficking survivors that received services from Priceless.
I had called Gwen in hopes to talk to her about what I had been told about the sex trafficking victims experiences with Priceless, “Two from survivors that were housed at the safe house, and one victim who had received support services and felt there was lack of follow up, with no calls back,” I told her. I mentioned the two survivors that lived at the house and how they were booted out.
“Yeah, we had one house manager, but it was a safety shelter, not a permanent transitional living home. It had to be used that way during covid because we wouldn’t exit anyone during covid. Once covid was over we had to reclaim it back for an emergency shelter.”
“The two survivors that I spoke to were moved from the safe house during covid,” I reminded her. Gwen stated “Priceless did end up closing the home and currently we are in partnerships with three other agencies to provide housing. Lots of network partners, several partners out of the state too.” She would not say what dates the safe house was operational.
When I mentioned I had spoken with sex worker groups and they felt they didn’t feel heard in the discussion of sex trafficking in Alaska, Gwen asserted, “No, we are strictly an organization that works with those with a story of sex trafficking, so we aren’t a support service for sex workers. We focus on the population of trafficked individuals.”
I was curious if there was information that she could share to help create a bigger picture of services for sex trafficking victims in Alaska, “Main thing is we are a mentoring and provide relationship and we network, that’s who we are. Our mentor number fluctuates.”
I asked how many sex trafficking victims Priceless was able to provide service to every year, Gwen seemed reluctant to answer and stated “I am not going to get into the specific details, that changes every year too.”
Gwen did assert that she had seen an increase during covid, she said, “Yes, and younger, we focus on Anchorage but have clients in other places as well. I have to run now, if you’d like to call back another time you can.”
I sent a follow up text to Gwen asking about the dates the safe house was in use and the average time a sex trafficking victim was provided housing at the safe house.
Her answer to my question was, “What is your interest or what are you working on?”. When I reminded her that I was writing about sex trafficking in Alaska and what type of assistance is available to sex trafficking victims, and that I was hoping she would be able to help me understand a bit more about Priceless besides what I could find online, her last response was “What organization are you representing? What other trafficking organizations are you talking to?”
NOVEMBER 3 2022
I attended the Priceless fundraiser in Anchorage at the Changepoint Church in November 2022. The parking lot was full and it was a packed house, even though it was a snow day for the Anchorage School District. At one point I was taking a selfie and Mayor Bronson was caught behind me in my picture. Anchorage Representative Laddie Shaw was shaking hands and mingling. There was a definite gala buzz in the air.
Beautifully curated salad, meat, vegetable and bread buffets were tastefully provided and strategically placed around the large auditorium, elegantly decorated. A large table with baked sweets towering over chocolate dipped cannolis and black and white croissants tempted anyone walking nearby.
Before taking my seat at a designated table at the back of the room I walked around and visited the small stylish shop offering a little of everything, from Gwen Adams book “The Crazy Church Ladies: The Priceless Story of an Unlikely Group Winning the War on Trafficking”, colorful silky scarves, buttery soft leggings, to wittily worded shirts, all priced mid to high range.
I found myself standing before the Freedom Gallery, a display of sex trafficking survivors’ photos printed in black and white with glitter embellishments concealing most of their identifying facial features.
“We celebrate the restoration of voice and identity to brave trafficking survivors as they share their stories and journeys to freedom—in their own words. This exhibit is in honor and memory of those victims and survivors whose voices and stories may never be heard. This exhibit stands in hope for those whose freedom stories will be told one day. You are Priceless.“ –
See the photos and stories here https://www.freedomgalleryalaska.org/
Both TL and April were photographed and featured as part of the 8 photos and stories of the surviving sex trafficking Freedom Gallery exhibit.
TL told me they got her story wrong and she had asked them to change her bio, yet they had not. “I wasn’t a meth user. I asked them to change it. Gwen’s daughter did the photos, I am sure she got paid to do them. I don’t know what they did with all the money coming in, but that was probably someone who got some.”
I mentioned to April that I saw her picture and bio featured as part of the Freedom Gallery. “That was three years ago! I would think they would have others they have helped featured. You know, those pictures were featured in Washington D.C.,” said April. She was speaking about the FBI’s annual Director’s Community Leadership Award in Washington, D.C. held May 2019. Priceless Alaska was among the dozens of groups around the US who were awarded.
“I don’t know why they aren’t featuring others they have helped, probably because there are not many others they have helped,” April said.
I asked April if her bio on the Freedom Gallery was correct. “Yes, I wrote it and then they edited it. They let me see it after and I had final say. I know they didn’t do that with everyone though.”
As I took my seat a very nice woman approached our table and asked if we would like to sit a bit closer, that she had a table sitting empty and we were welcome to join her and her husband. I was right upfront now, with some very familiar faces sitting in tables around me.
In 2015 Priceless (Grace Alaska Inc.) 990’s salaries showed $691,911 to 4 key employees, see below.
In 2016, salaries were listed at $251,846, with contributions from online giving, Priceless event income, and class fees, equaling $466,846. Grace Alaska Inc. stated they were offering services to sex trafficking victims.
The amount going out didn’t match the money coming in. April shared Priceless seemed to be a supportive and helpful organization in 2016, but mentors taking time for coffee, helping with diapers, and providing emotional support didn’t equate to the donations coming in to Priceless.
In 2017 there were 9 employed, with salaries, compensation and benefits totaling $377,918. Revenue was $498,920 and total expenses were $604,517. Fundraising expenses were $23,154. There were 190 volunteers.
The three largest programs, measured by expenses, were Priceless, Love Alaska and Chosen.
Here is a timeline of grants, gifts and contributions, followed by program service revenue.
2015 – $74,082 / $301,561
2016- $100,000 / $466,834
2017- $50,000 / $448,920
2018- $64,118 / $383,429
2019- $139,219 / $300,652
Gracealaska EIN: 72-1525990
990’s are available on the IRS website https://apps.irs.gov/app/eos/
In 2020 GraceAlaska received a PPP Loan for $70,567 to retain 7 jobs. It was forgiven in full on their 2019 990.
Who could have Priceless helped?
The donated house that sat empty seemed like a promise unfulfilled to the community in need of housing: sex trafficking survivors.
Priceless was created and many have donated time and funds to help sex trafficking victims get out of bad situations, yet from talking to survivors it appeared many felt left behind or saw others that they felt were removed without cause. Priceless had on several occasions made it difficult to receive assistance from their organization.
Alaskans like Martina Post, who in 2016 needed help with her daughter who was a victim of sex trafficking, had contacted the police, Priceless and the FBI. She found no help.
“The Anchorage Police Department would not listen to me until I got my two white friends to make a call for me. I contacted Priceless Alaska but they would not help me unless a State Trooper investigates and makes a referral to their organization. No one would help me. I also called the FBI, three times, and they did not respond. Through my 2 white friends, I reported her missing. No one had seen her anywhere for until June 15, 2016. My daughter was held, by traffickers, at Eagle River, Alaska, for 4 months.”https://www.niwrc.org/restoration-magazine/february-2017/martina-post-mothers-story
– Martina Post
Below are copies of text messages between a member of Community United for Safety and Protection and an Anchorage FBI investigator. These were over messages of a duration of close to a week where a sex trafficking survivor needed a safe house to return to, beginning December 27, 2018.
The sex trafficking victim was in Hawaii and being assisted by Homeland Security. Homeland security was working with her and a social worker to return her back home to Alaska. The young woman was just waiting for a safe place to go before Homeland Security would get her a ticket to return to Alaska. Priceless, the non profit Alaskans and others organizations looked to in order to assist sex trafficking victims told the social worker and the sex trafficking victim needing assistance that there was a several month long waiting list for the safe house when they did finally connect – after a week of leaving messages and then another week of waiting for an intake interview.
Once a fish plant, now a church.
In late 2004, Changepoint, in partnership with a Lower 48 development corporation, put a $4 million down payment on the former Alaska Seafood International plant. They bought the defunct plant from the Alaska Industrial Development and Export Authority for $24.5 million.
That year, ChangePoint’s fiscal year 2004 budget was about $4.4 million, said Rick Steele, the church pastor of stewardship, which is the equivalent of a company treasurer or chief financial officer.
To maintain its budget, the congregation would need to give about $90,000 a week. Back in 2004, about 3,500 people called ChangePoint “my church,” and attendance averaged about 2,300 a week, Steele said.
Governor Sean Parnell asked Gwen to join the Governor’s Task Force for the Crimes of Human Trafficking and Sexual Slavery in 2012. Gwen Adams traveled Alaska to explore the reality of sex trafficking on the Governor’s behalf. Priceless came from this work, an organization that trains up others to mentor survivors of sex trafficking. Priceless has grown and now claims to have teams in legislation, cyber-sex crimes, street outreach, and prison.
Stated on the Priceless website:
In 2012 a women’s group from ChangePoint was looking for a way to give back to women in Alaska. At that same time, through Governor Parnell and First Lady Sandy, we began to see that sex trafficking was not just a third-world problem, but that it was thriving here on home soil. Sex trafficking is one of the fastest-growing, most lucrative crimes in our state. Gwen Adams participated on the governor’s task force for the Crimes of Human Trafficking and Sexual Slavery. Her time on this task force brought the issue in our state to light. The women of ChangePoint could not ignore the reality any longer and decided that they would actively seek to engage and bring about change. Priceless, as an organization, was born.
Since Priceless began direct client work, over 80 survivors have been referred into Priceless. These survivors and their families are in need of every resource necessary for rescue and a new future. Our program helps these women connect to resources throughout our state, resources ranging from: emergency and long-term housing, counseling, medical and legal services, job training, education completion, relocation services, mobile food pantry connections, etc.https://www.pricelessalaska.org/our-story.html
What started as a non profit anti-sex trafficking organization seems to have evolved into an organization strife with complex communication and funding issues. The reported lack of accessible services to sex trafficking victims is cause for concern and a closer look. The fundraiser event I attended that featured stories of sexual assaults on what seemed the premise of extracting emotional sentiment for donations is a blight on the horrors of sex trafficking.
Alaskans deserve better than religious rhetoric, calling for sex trafficking victims to only be seen and not heard. On the contrary, the only way Alaskans have to combat sex trafficking is by listening to sex trafficking survivors.
When I asked TL about how she felt during her time at the house, she answered, “You know when you’ve been abused and, I think I was involved in sex trafficking for a year or two, and before that I had an abusive husband, when you come out of that, you don’t know when someone is treating you badly. You just don’t, I didn’t.”
For further information, visit the Tax Exempt Organization Search which list GraceAlaska/LoveAlaska/Priceless filed 990’s.
If you have a Priceless story of your own to share, contact Amber at firstname.lastname@example.org
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