Showing Up: How Persistent Presence Can Support Growth
- SHECP
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read
By Annabelle Sutliff, 2025 SHECP Intern with the Tharros Place
On the 8-hour drive from Virginia to Savannah, Georgia, I remember my head circling with ideas about what the summer would look like. I was driving to Tharros Place, a non-profit that both provides care for teenage girls that have survived human trafficking, while also educating the Chatham County community about child sex trafficking. It’s a young organization, but has already supported many girls throughout their healing journey. As an intern and the youngest member of the Tharros team for the summer, I knew I had a unique opportunity to connect with these girls simply due to my age. They were going through the same confusing teenage years that I had, but with the added complication of handling and processing trauma. I had put a fair bit of pressure on myself to fill a different niche in the team, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to do enough for these girls.
Over the course of my eight weeks in the program, I saw that “enough” looked much different than I had pictured. The first day that I met with the girls living in the residential facility, only half of them would speak to me. We were outlining plans for the Run Club and 5K that I had been asked to lead, and my meeting with the girls was aimed at getting feedback on their feelings. They had strong (and hilarious) opinions on what attire they would be willing to race in and creative ideas about workout plans and group outings. What I remember most about that initial meeting, however, were the girls who wouldn’t contribute. There was one girl who had her head down on the table for the entire discussion. That day, I didn’t even learn her name.
On my regular visits to the residential facility, I got to know all of these girls, eight in total. They had such distinct stories and personalities. They were goofy and opinionated and honest. When I wore outdated shoes, they teased. When I painted my nails, they were excited to see. Every day, even if the work I was doing was hard, I was excited to come talk to these girls and check in with them, try to make them laugh.
One day, none of the girls wanted to do the planned workout– but they were willing to go on a walk. We were working from a point of relatively zero movement, so any willingness they had to move and be outside was a measure of progress. On that walk, I had the chance to talk to one of the girls who I hadn’t gotten to know as much, Ella. She was more outwardly independent and hadn’t shown much interest in conversation with me, but we also hadn’t spoken one-on-one before. On that walk, Ella told me about her hopes for her future. She was honest about the challenges she faced, coming from a low-income family and having missed regular schooling because of her history with trafficking. Despite those obstacles, she was excited about what she could do. Ella talked about wanting to gain career experience, eventually starting a family. There were girls at Tharros that were worried about making any plans for the future, but in this conversation, I saw someone that had such a deep drive to make her way and find her happiness. I had been persistent in reaching out and showing up, so that on that one day– Ella felt comfortable enough to talk.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I spent a lot of time working with the girl who had initially kept her head down, Megan. She could get stuck in cycles of self-doubt and frustration, and it was hard to see when she would fall back into a tougher period after working so hard to connect. Still, I kept checking in, and she kept reaching out. In our final 5K for the Run Club, I was worried about Megan at the start line. She had started the summer with so much excitement about running, but her interest had decreased over our training. About a quarter of the way into the 5K, as I ran with the girl I was buddied up with, Megan caught up and ran past us with a massive grin on her face. She ended up not only finishing the race (a feat every single one of these girls accomplished), but came in first in the group and crossed the finish line smiling.
At that same race, after I had finished with my buddy, I ran back to check in on the other girls and run with them through the last mile. I saw girl after girl come through, tired and sweaty and smiling. When I ran back for the last girl, Theresa, I remember what she said to her guide as I ran up. “I told you Miss Annabelle was going to come back here and make sure I finished!” Theresa’s guide later told me that Theresa had wanted to stop the race multiple times, but kept going because she knew I would be excited to see her coming through the trees.
I had started that summer feeling so inadequately prepared to support these girls, and ended up cheering while watching them cross a literal, physical finish line. With Ella, Megan, and Theresa, I had learned to show up over and over, and I’d learned that this persistence was key to demonstrating my support for them so that we could build positive relationships. On my drive back up from Tharros, I watched the trees change. Slowly, the live oaks and Spanish moss morphed into the Appalachian forest that I knew and loved. I had spent the summer away from the environment I was used to, instead working to curate a stable environment for these girls. By showing up each day and building relationships that established support and security, I helped give them the foundation they needed to find their confidence. Through my SHECP internship, I had the opportunity to help these girls plant their own roots, encouraging them to grow tall and reach the sky.
*** Note: Names have been changed to preserve confidentiality.***
Annabelle Sutliff is studying political science and biology at Washington and Lee University, class of 2027. She is also a member of the track and field team. During her 2025 SHECP Internship, she worked as an outreach and community engagement intern with Tharros Place in Savannah, GA. Each summer, SHECP interns are placed with nonprofit and government agencies that work on the front lines of poverty and serve as co-educators to students.
