BREAKING THE SILENCE
By Vivian LaMoore, Inaajimowin Editor
The empty red dresses were hung on the fenceline of the High way 169 corridor that passes through the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe Reservation. The emptiness is a haunting reminder for some and a grave awareness for others of the thousands of Indigenous people — women, girls, men, boys, two-spirit — who are murdered or go missing and are never found each year. Hundreds gathered at the Mille Lacs Band Aquatics and Fitness Center in Onamia for the third annual Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives event hosted by Health and Hu man Services. The event was held on Thursday, May 2, 2024, to bring awareness to the MMIR crisis and the connection be tween sex trafficking, sexual harassment, sexual assault, and the relatives who go missing and are murdered.
The statistics are startling and as variable as the instances of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Relatives are under-re ported and under-investigated, ultimately under-solved. In 2020 alone, there were 5,295 reports of missing American Indian and Alaska Native women and girls, according to the National Crime Information Center. Each number is not just a statistic — each represents a relative with a name who is a mother, daughter, auntie, cousin, child, brother, uncle, father, son.
Speakers for the event were Assistant Commissioner of Ad ministration Maria Costello, District I Representative Virgil Wind, District II Representative Wendy Merrill, Director of the MMIR Office of Minnesota Juliet Rudie, Hinckley-Finlayson High School student Addison Grap-Gahbow, Band member Eldayshun Bigbear, and Band member Adrienne Benjamin, with Commissioner of Health and Human Services Nicole Anderson as emcee. Applause was given to each speaker for their bravery and courage to speak from the heart as survivors of life changing events who have vowed to break the silence and speak up against the violence as their effort to bring aware ness to the crisis of MMIR.
Below is a transcript of the essay written by 15-year-old Addison Grap-Gahbow, Band member and student at Hinckley-Finlayson High School.
Break the silence
By Anangookwe, Addison Grap-Gahbow
Today, I stand before you with a heavy heart, a heart burdened by the weight of sorrow and injustice. I speak not only as a voice, but as an echo of the silenced, the forgot ten, and the missing. Today, I speak of the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) – a tragedy etched into the fabric of our society, a wound that continues to bleed, unnoticed by many.
Imagine for a moment, the pain of a mother whose daugh ter vanished into thin air, leaving behind only memories and unanswered questions. Imagine the anguish of a sister whose sibling’s laughter no longer fills the room, replaced by an unbearable silence. These are the realities faced by countless Indigenous families across the globe, victims of a systemic disregard for their lives and dignity.
We live in a world where the disappearance and murder of Indigenous women and girls have become a harrowing epi demic. They vanish into the night, their cries for help drowned out by indifference and neglect. They are stolen from their communities, their voices silenced by the hands of violence. And yet, their stories remain untold, their names forgotten amidst the noise of our society.
But today, we must break the silence. We must confront the uncomfortable truth that Indigenous women and girls are dis proportionately affected by violence and exploitation. We must acknowledge that this epidemic is not a coincidence, but a result of deep-rooted historical injustices and systemic failures.
We cannot turn a blind eye to the fact that Indigenous women are more likely to experience violence than any other demographic in the world. We cannot ignore the fact that the majority of these cases go unresolved, perpetuating a cycle of trauma and despair. We cannot continue to allow their lives to be treated as disposable, their deaths dismissed as insignificant.
Each missing and murdered Indigenous woman is more than just a statistic. She is a daughter, a sister, a mother, a friend – a human being deserving of love, respect, and justice. We must honor their memory by demanding accountability from those in power, by advocating for systemic change, and by standing in solidarity with Indigenous communities.
As we gather here today, let us remember the faces of those who have been taken from us too soon. Let us honor their lives by amplifying their voices, by seeking truth and reconciliation, and by working together to build a future where all Indigenous women and girls can live free from fear and violence.
The stories of MMIW are as diverse as the land they come from. They are stories of daughters who vanished into the night, leaving behind empty bedrooms and shattered dreams. They are stories of mothers who never returned home, leaving behind grieving children and unanswered questions. They are stories of sisters, aunts, grandmothers – each one a cherished member of their community, each one robbed of their right to safety and dignity.
But behind each of these stories lies a web of systemic in justice that stretches back centuries. From the colonial policies that sought to erase Indigenous cultures to the ongoing legacy of racism and discrimination that permeates our society, Indigenous women and girls have been disproportionately affected by violence and exploitation.
The statistics are staggering, but they only scratch the sur face of the true extent of this crisis. Indigenous women are murdered at rates up to 10 times higher than the national average, and they are three times more likely to experience violence than non-Indigenous women. These numbers represent real lives – real women whose voices have been silenced by a society that fails to value their humanity.
We cannot afford to turn a blind eye to this epidemic any longer. We cannot allow the stories of MMIW to be forgotten or dismissed. We must confront the uncomfortable truths that lie at the heart of this crisis – truths about power, privilege, and the enduring legacy of colonialism.
As we grapple with the enormity of this tragedy, we must also reckon with our own complicity. We must acknowledge the ways in which our society has failed Indigenous women and girls, and we must commit ourselves to doing better. This means demanding accountability from those in positions of power, and it means actively working to dismantle the systems of oppression that perpetuate violence and exploitation.
But our response cannot be limited to policy changes and institutional reforms. We must also confront the cultural attitudes and stereotypes that dehumanize Indigenous women and girls, reducing them to objects of violence and exploitation. We must listen to their voices, honor their stories, and uplift their experiences in our collective consciousness.
It is time for all of us to stand in solidarity with Indigenous communities, to amplify their voices, and to support their efforts to seek justice and healing. It is time for us to recognize the resilience and strength of Indigenous women and girls, and to ensure that their voices are heard and their rights are respected.
In closing, let us remember that the missing and murdered Indigenous women are not just statistics – they are our sisters, our daughters, our mothers. Their lives mattered, and their absence leaves a void that can never be filled. May we honor their memory by working together to create a future where Indigenous women and girls are valued, protected, and respected and have no more stolen women.