"Right now, given the options we have, it's hard for me to get real excited about the positive things in these people's lives," she says. "I think what we forget when we take people off the street is people get used to that high. Not just the drug-induced high, but these ladies run all over the place. It's fast-paced action here. It's exciting, it's on the edge. They are used to, probably from childhood, being on the edge -- dodging this and that. You take people out of that and put them in a routine -- we know they find that boring. I'm sure they are nostalgic."
For this reason, Jarrell says it's important to have accommodations ready when a woman wants to come off the street. However, the waiting lists are long and space is limited. The Adult Rehabilitation Center, a six-month recovery program for substance abusers, has 92 beds for men, but only 12 for women.
A woman arrested for prostitution awaits processing during a vice sweep.
Paolo Vescia
Kathleen Mitchell talks to Nicole, a 19-year-old prostitute, about the DIGNITY program.
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Kim lies down in the back seat, saying she doesn't feel well. She says she's sick and tired. She is getting too old for this line of work.
Jarrell has heard it all before but listens anyway, waiting for the moment of desperation that precedes a woman's escape from the streets. Perhaps Kim is almost ready. She no longer works the streets. The streets work her.
Kathleen Mitchell sits at her table during the vice night roundup and frets about society's view of prostitution.
In terms of social programs and community education, Mitchell believes prostitution is where domestic violence was 15 years ago. She wants to educate people about the reality of prostitution as she knows it. She sits on a crime-prevention group for the Van Buren Street Association, alongside members of the business community and law enforcement officials. Mitchell says she works well with the PD, but prejudices of prostitution prevail.
"They believe women are more of the problem," Mitchell says. "They don't quite get it yet that if they get rid of the men customers, the women aren't going to be there because the money won't be there."
On vice nights, the PPD goes undercover to catch johns. Five female decoys are dressed as hookers. Detective Marlene King sports a mouth full of braces, making her look younger than her 28 years. She could be a student at Any College U.S.A., wearing a gray tee shirt, cut-off jean shorts, tennis shoes and a flannel shirt tied around her waist. King, who has caught two johns this afternoon, jokes with her male co-workers about the drunk guy who offered her five dollars for sex. The male officers say he was perfectly sober.
Detective King says she likes her job. Her reasons are similar to those the real working girls cite: it's exciting and full of action.
"I'll never go back to a desk job if I have the choice," she says.
Wired for sound, King stands on the corner waiting for a john to pull over, nod or call her to the car. Working the johns is more labor-intensive than arresting the prostitutes -- it requires backup, electronic equipment and a booking area. Commander George Richards explains it takes 20 to 30 people -- and money.
"We try to be as hard on the men -- we understand supply and demand," Richards says. ". . . catching the johns has to be more of a planned operation."
Yet the attitude prevails that eliminating the women will solve the problem.
"It's a seller's market," King explains. "If the women weren't out here, why would the men come?"
The men would go somewhere else, which, as Lieutenant Larry T. Jacobs explains, is the police department's realistic objective.
"Prostitution is a problem that's always been with us," Jacobs explains. "We would like to take the visual component out of it. What happens behind closed doors is one thing -- it's when they get out on the street and flaunt it. It degrades the area and property values go down."
Mitchell is one of the few at vice night who view prostitutes as victims rather than suspects. She realizes she is in the minority, and that changing the sex industry is an uphill battle.
"We have such a long way to go," Mitchell says. "We've thrown a pebble in the water."
Contact Amanda Scioscia at her online address: amanda.scioscia@newtimes.com
