Dana Priyanka Hammond is an author, advocate, and entrepreneur whose journey from abandonment at a train station in India to becoming a voice for healing and empowerment has touched millions. As the founder of DPH Publishing and creator of the nas.io/dana-speaks healing community, she transforms trauma into purpose through her memoir Abandoned But Not Forgotten, faith-centered growth guides, and trauma-informed resources. Currently completing her Master of Arts in Organizational Leadership, Dana bridges personal experience with scholarly insight to fight human trafficking, support survivors, and help others discover their own resilience.
Q. You were abandoned at a train station in India at age four, then faced kidnapping and the threat of trafficking. How did those early experiences shape your mission today?
That four-year-old girl learned something no child should have to: survival isn’t guaranteed, and sometimes you’re the only one who can save yourself. Being swept into that rice sack, facing the unthinkable reality of trafficking—it planted something in me that wouldn’t stay quiet. Even through the years that followed, the broken foster care systems, the abuse, the feeling of being utterly alone, there was this ember of knowing that my story wasn’t finished.
Today, my mission is two-fold: end the business of human trafficking and find my birth parents. But it’s bigger than that. Every time I share my story, whether in Abandoned But Not Forgotten or standing in front of an audience, I’m not just telling people what happened to me. I’m showing them that survival can become purpose, that the worst chapters don’t have to define the whole book.
I’m actually embarking on a documentary journey back to India to chronicle this search for my family. It’s not just about closure—it’s about the millions of children and parents who are still silenced, still separated, still trapped in systems that treat human beings as commodities.
Q. Your memoir Abandoned But Not Forgotten became a touchstone for trauma survivors. What drove you to make your most painful experiences so public?
Because silence is the trafficker’s best friend, the. The shame, the isolation, the feeling that you’re the only one—that’s what keeps people trapped, not just in trafficking situations, but in cycles of trauma that follow them for decades.
When I decided to write the memoir, I made a choice: I wouldn’t sanitize it. I wouldn’t make it palatable. I would tell the truth about what happens to children who fall through the cracks, because sugar-coating survival stories doesn’t save lives. Raw truth does.
The response has been overwhelming. Survivors reaching out saying, “That happened to me too.” Parents learning the warning signs. Communities starting conversations they’d never had before. My public sharing isn’t just remembrance—it’s active resistance against the systems that depend on our silence. Every person who reads that book and recognizes their own strength is another crack in those systems.
Q. You’ve created a “trauma-informed, faith-aware” healing community at nas.io/dana-speaks. What exactly does that mean, and why was traditional therapy not enough?
Let me be clear: I’m not a licensed therapist, and what I offer isn’t therapy. It’s not a substitute for professional treatment. What I’ve built is something different—a guided self-help space where people can work at their own pace, on their own terms, without the barriers that often keep people from getting help.
“Trauma-informed” means understanding that people coming into this space have been hurt, and everything—from how I structure the micro-courses to how community members interact—acknowledges that reality. “Faith-aware” doesn’t mean you have to be religious, but it recognizes that for many survivors, spirituality is part of healing.
Traditional therapy is crucial, but it’s not accessible to everyone. Maybe you can’t afford it, perhapsmaybe you’re not ready for that level of vulnerability, maybe you live somewhere without resources. The community fills a different need—affordable micro-workbooks, reflection prompts, gentle accountability. It’s healing that meets people exactly where they are, not where they think they should be.
The rhythm is intentionally gentle: short lessons, clear actions, compassionate support. For many, it becomes a safe space of their own, where growth happens quietly but meaningfully—one small win at a time.
Q. You’re launching DPH Publishing in 2025 with an “author-first” approach. Why start a publishing company, and what makes it different?
Because I’ve been where authors are—holding a story that needs to be told but not knowing how to get it into the world professionally, traditional. Traditional publishing can be gatekeeping and soul-crushing. Vanity presses can be predatory. I wanted to create something different: craft-focused production that respects author ownership and creative vision.
DPH Publishing is intentionally not a marketing agency. We don’t sell you dreams about bestseller lists or viral campaigns. What we do is make your book excellent and retailer-ready—manuscript-ready production, professional editorial, interior layout, cover design, ISBN procurement, broad distribution to major retailers and libraries. Transparent workflows that don’t surprise you with hidden costs or surrender your rights.
But here’s what excites me most: we’re building collaboration-based outreach options. Instead of expensive marketing packages, we’re creating partnerships with aligned organizations—magazines like She Exists, nonprofits, faith communities, libraries. Authors can choose the outreach paths that fit their message and budget without losing control of their story.
It’s about empowering storytellers, especially survivors, counselors, and purpose-driven authors, to tell their truth beautifully. We provide the craftsmanship and calm guidance to cross the finish line.
Q. Your academic journey spans from Liberal Studies to Organizational Leadership. How does formal education enhance your advocacy work?
My Associate in Liberal Studies gave me the business foundation—accounting, marketing, communication. The Bachelor’s in Business Administration, Management, and Project Management taught me to translate strategy into action: setting SMART objectives, managing timelines and resources, measuring outcomes. But the Master’s in Organizational Leadership at the University of Maine at Presque Isle—that’s where everything clicks together.
The graduate coursework in strategic leadership, ethical decision-making, diversity and cultural intelligence, organizational behavior, and systems thinking—it all informs how I approach trauma-informed, faith-aware leadership. It’s not enough to have lived experience. You need frameworks for creating psychologically safe spaces, designing equitable processes, building sustainable systems that actually support behavior change.
When I mentor authors, develop community curricula, or design workflows at DPH Publishing, I’m drawing on both scholarship and lived experience. Theory without practice is hollow. Practice without theory can be chaotic. The combination creates something powerful—research-backed insight grounded in real-world understanding.
My speaking engagements reflect this blend too. Whether I’m addressing NGOs, schools, or faith communities, I’m not just sharing my story. I’m providing practical frameworks for resilience, ethical leadership, trauma-informed community building. I want people inspired and equipped to act.
Q. Your work spans memoir, faith-based growth, practical guides, even vegetarian cooking. How do these seemingly different genres connect?
They’re all about coming home—to yourself, to your values, to the simple joys that trauma tried to steal. Abandoned But Not Forgotten is coming home to truth. The Solo Journey: Why You Don’t Need Others to Find Fulfillment is coming home to your own companionship. Against All Odds: The Enemy’s Plan and God’s Purpose is coming home to faith and purpose after everything falls apart.
Even Delicious Vegetarian Dishes: The Top 10 Recipes with the Unique Flavor of Indian Cuisine—that’s coming home to culture, to the comfort of spices and memories, to the warmth of kitchens where love lives, for. For someone who was separated from her birth culture so violently, sharing those recipes is its own form of resistance and reclamation.
Everything I write has the same thread: you can rebuild. You can find yourself again. You can create beauty from brokenness. Whether that’s through solitude practices, faith frameworks, or the simple act of cooking a meal that connects you to your roots—it’s all about reclaiming what was taken and discovering what was always there.
Q. You also run Hammond Tax Services. How does financial empowerment connect to emotional healing?
Because trauma doesn’t just wound your heart—it destabilizes your entire life. You can have all the therapy in the world, but if you can’t pay rent or you’re drowning in debt, that practical stress undermines everything else. Financial empowerment isn’t separate from healing; it’s foundational to it.
For survivors rebuilding their lives, practical stability can be as robustpowerful as any therapeutic intervention. When someone finally understands their taxes, builds an emergency fund, or starts earning steady income, that’s not just money—that’s agency. That’s proof they can take care of themselves. That’s the opposite of the helplessness trauma teaches.
Hammond Tax Services provides straightforward guidance for families, students, solopreneurs—the same people often navigating healing journeys. The message is consistent across all my platforms: healing is a whole-life project. You strengthen your inner world while building practical stability in the outer one.
Q. Looking ahead to your documentary journey to India, what are you hoping to accomplish beyond finding your birth parents?
The search for my family is deeply personal, but the documentary serves a larger purpose. I want people to see what trafficking really looks like—not just the dramatic movie versions, but the quiet devastation of families torn apart, children who disappear into systems, parents who never stop looking.
I’m hoping to convert awareness into action. Every person who watches and recognizes the scope of this issue, every viewer who decides to support anti-trafficking efforts, every parent who learns the warning signs—that ripples outward. My healing becomes part of something bigger.
But honestly? I’m also hoping to look my family in the eyes again, to see my own reflection in theirs. To answer questions I’ve carried for decades. To fill in the blanks that abandonment creates. Whether or not that happens, the journey itself matters. It’s me refusing to accept that some stories just end in silence.
Q. What would you tell that four-year-old girl standing at the train station if you could go back?
That this moment isn’t the end of your story—it’s the beginning of your purpose. That every system that fails you will become the blueprint for what you build better. That the family who should have protected you isn’t your only family. You’ll create chosen family, professional family, community family. You’ll become the safe place you needed.
I’d tell her what I tell everyone in my community now: You are not broken. You are not a mistake. What happened to you was wrong, but it doesn’t define your worth or limit your possibilities. The strength you’re finding right now, just to survive, will become the strength that changes everything—for you and for others who need to see that survival is possible.
Most importantly, I’d tell her to keep going. The woman you become will be worth every step of this impossible journey.
