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- The National Crime Information Center reports that there were 5,712 reports of missing American Indian and Alaska Native women and girls, though the US Department of Justice’s federal missing person database. But, NamUs only logged 116 cases.
- Only 22% live on the tribal lands or reservations.
-  Around 78% of America's Native population lives off of the reservation with 60% of those in an urban area.
- An estimated 4 out of 5 Indigenous Women have experienced violence (84.3%).
- More than half Indigenous Women experience sexual violence.
- About 48.8% of indigenous women have been stalked before.
- 1,800 of the missing Native American women and girls were killed or vanished within the past 40 years.

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https://www.nwac.ca/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Fact_Sheet_Missing_and_Murdered_Aboriginal_Women_and_Girls.pdf

https://www.nativewomenswilderness.org/mmiw#:~:text=As%20of%202016%2C%20the%20National,people%20on%20Native%2Downed%20land.

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Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two Spirit.

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A red hand over the mouth has become the symbol of a growing movement, the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women (MMIW) movement.

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The majority of these murders are committed by non-Native people on Native-owned land. The lack of communication combined with jurisdictional issues between state, local, federal, and tribal law enforcement, make it nearly impossible to begin the investigative process.

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May 5, 2019 The White House proclamation officially designated as the National Day of Awareness for Missing and Murdered Native Women and Girls.

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This drawling honors the lives of Native American people that are missing or were murdered, it's proudly displayed on the Operation Lady Justice website. 

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Went missing from Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana during 2017. The search was conducted thoroughly by her sister for 4 years. She lived with the mission to help missing indigenous women.

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Ashley Loring HeavyRunner disappeared from the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana in 2017.

Her sister Kimberly Loring has searched relentlessly for four years.

Before she disappeared, Ashley wanted to help missing Indigenous women, Kimberly said.

It has been over four years since Ashley Loring HeavyRunner disappeared from the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana. Her sister Kimberly Loring said that when she last spoke with her sibling, Ashley talked about wanting to get involved with the movement shedding light on the high prevalence of missing and slain Indigenous women.

"Ashley came up to me, and she said she wanted to help these women. She told me about what's going on with these women, that over in Canada, that a lot of girls are going missing," Kimberly told Insider. Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women is a broad movement in the US and Canada led by Indigenous activists seeking to raise awareness and stop the high rate of missing and slain community members.

"And just a few months later, Ashley became one of those women," Kimberly said.

In light of the travel vlogger Gabby Petito's disappearance and killing, and the heavy national spotlight on her case, there has been a renewed focus on missing and slain Indigenous women.

Ashley went missing on June 5, 2017, according to NBC News. At the time, she was a 20-year-old studying environmental science at Blackfeet Community College.

Kimberly last spoke with her sister on June 5. That night, Ashley posted on social media that she needed a ride to a party, according to NBC News. Later, Kimberly said that Ashley asked her for money, and Kimberly asked Ashley if she was doing all right.

Ashley's family became concerned during a string of days in early June. Her father was hospitalized for liver failure, and Ashley did not return texts or phone calls. She was last seen in Browning, Montana.

"We do whatever we can to find Ashley, and that's our lives right now," Kimberly told Insider, adding that since the first day she vanished, she has been searching for her.

And according to the Montana Missing and Murdered Indigenous People Task Force, between 2017 and 2019, over 3,000 Indigenous people were reported missing in the state; 80% were under the age of 18, and many have been reported missing multiple times. The state's task force said in that time frame, 97.7% of reported missing people were found.

"Gabby's story is not unique. It's the very same as thousands of other families, thousands of other girls that have gone missing," Kimberly said. "You tell her story, you're telling thousands of other stories."

"I believe as a people, we need to keep standing for our missing so that one day that we will be seen as the same - as important - because everybody is important," Kimberly said.

Kimberly described the search effort as a largely solitary process that eventually received aided from community members and a tribal reporter who brought Ashley's story to light.

"The community, before, they didn't know how to search, but just recently, now we have three people that are missing on the reservation," Kimberly said. "They fully understand now a lot more than they did four years ago when it was just Ashley missing."

There are also multiple law-enforcement agencies involved in Ashley's case: the FBI, the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and local law enforcement. Kimberly said there was confusion for Ashley's family in terms of who was taking the lead.

A spokesperson for the FBI's Salt Lake City office, which is actively investigating Ashley's disappearance, told Insider that there was no new publicly available information related to Ashley's case.

"At the request of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the FBI has agreed to investigate the disappearance of Ashley Loring Heavyrunner of Browning, Montana," the FBI said in 2018.  "Ashley disappeared in June of 2017.  The FBI has offered our assistance in the case and has access to additional resources that can be devoted to the investigation.

"This remains an active investigation and no further information will be released at this time,"

The Bureau of Indian Affairs did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

Experts previously told Insider a lack of media coverage and lopsided law-enforcement help had created an environment where "missing white woman syndrome" persists and the cases of missing people of color do not gain the same attention.

Payne Lindsey, the host of the true-crime podcast " Up and Vanished" is trying to raise more awareness of the case. Lindsey is working closely with Kimberly at the reservation as her family tries to find answers.

"By telling her story, I believe that my sister was able to help bring more awareness to missing and murdered Indigenous women, and how Ashley wanted to help these women," Kimberly said. "And in a huge way, she was able to do that."

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Ashley Loring HeavyRunner vanished from a Montana reservation in 2017. Her sister says that before she went missing, she wanted to bring awareness to missing and murdered Indigenous women.

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Ashley Loring HeavyRunner disappeared from the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana in 2017. Her sister Kimberly Loring has searched relentlessly for four years. Before she disappeared, Ashley wanted to help missing Indigenous women, Kimberly said. It has been over four years since Ashley Loring HeavyRunner disappeared from the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana.

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27-year-old mother who went missing for weeks before being found dead in California in August. She only a received a fraction of the media attention Gabby Petito did.

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OAKLAND, Calif. - The family of Bessie Walker - a 27-year-old mother who went missing for weeks before being found dead in August - held a rally Tuesday, calling attention to missing and murdered Indigenous women, who don't garner nearly the same news coverage or police response that missing white women do.

"We spent hours and nights without sleeping looking for her," Ruby Rodriguez, Walker's older sister, said at a protest and press conference in Oakland. "We don't have peace."

"My family just wants answers. They want justice," Rodriguez said, crying. "How come no arrests have been made?"

Rodriguez was surrounded by around two dozen family and friends of Walker's, as well as Indigenous organizers and allies who wore bandanas with the letters MMIW - for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women - and T-shirts that said, "No more stolen sisters." Rodriguez's two young children held a pink sign with yellow glued-on letters that read, "Justice for Bessie."

Walker - a mother of three kids ages 12, 7 and 4, and a member of the Big Sandy Rancheria tribe - was reported missing from her hometown in Auberry, California, on Aug. 8. Two weeks later, her family found her dead about 100 yards from a family member's home, according to the sheriff's office.

At the rally, Walker's sister condemned the Fresno County Sheriff's Office for not doing more to find Walker while she was missing. " Nobody talks about it anymore. The sheriffs don't tell us nothing. Why wasn't there more done?" Rodriguez said through tears.

The sheriff's office told HuffPost that detectives spent "hundreds of hours" searching for Walker, calling the family's criticisms "unwarranted." Walker's cause of death remains "undetermined." The sheriff's office hasn't posted publicly about the investigation since August.

Rodriguez said her family's next step will be to file a lawsuit against the sheriff's office.

HuffPost / Sarah Ruiz-Grossman

At the rally, local organizers with social justice group CURYJ condemned the outsize attention paid to Gabby Petito's case - also a woman in her 20s who went missing before being found dead, but who was white. Petito, reported missing Sept. 11, was found dead less than 10 days later .

While Petito's case got wall-to-wall national news coverage on every development in her case (including from HuffPost ), Walker's case was only covered locally , not in nearly as much detail.

"We're here to denounce the racism and erasure of Black, Indigenous and people of color," said George Galvis, co-founder of CURYJ. "We're not saying it's not good to investigate Gabby Petito. What we're saying is Black and Indigenous women deserve the same level of investigation and they deserve the same attention from the media."

Thousands of women and girls of color disappear each year across the country, many garnering little to no public attention.

One report looked at 247 missing teens in New York and California and found 34% of cases involving white teens were covered by media, versus just 7% of cases involving Black teens and 14% involving Latinx kids, The Associated Press reported.

A recent report on missing or murdered Indigenous women by the nonprofit Sovereign Bodies Institute found that in California, just 9% of murder cases involving Indigenous women and girls were solved, compared to a statewide rate of over 60% for solving murders, per CalMatters.

Walker's family held Tuesday's rally outside local Fox TV station KTVU, which suspended anchor Frank Somerville last month, reportedly over disagreements with his superiors about his wanting to add a note to a segment on Gabby Petito to highlight how Black women are disproportionately victims of domestic violence and get less attention than white women gone missing - or what late journalist Gwen Ifill dubbed "missing white woman syndrome."

KTVU did not immediately return HuffPost's request for comment.

"May the words we speak today help someone somewhere," Indigenous organizer Lyla June Johnston said in a prayer at the start of the rally, as sage burned. "We ask you to protect our women."

"Bless our enemies, bless the people in the news studio behind us," Johnston added. "Bless those who don't see us as human and help them understand they are our family."

Related...

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Grieving Family Of 27-Year-Old Mom Call Attention To Missing Indigenous Women

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OAKLAND, Calif. - The family of Bessie Walker - a 27-year-old mother who went missing for weeks before being found dead in August - held a rally Tuesday, calling attention to missing and murdered Indigenous women, who don't garner nearly the same news coverage or police response that missing white women do.

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On the day of her disappearance, she was described as inconsolable. Her family attempted to report her missing after looking for some time, but were told they had to wait 24 hours, which was later denied by police, saying they would have taken it right away. As well, a press release was not prepared. When she was found dead, it was found that she had a high level of intoxication, around 0.33.

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When Misty Upham was 12, she announced herself to a Seattle classroom of aspiring performers. "My name is Misty Upham, and someday you will know that name as the best living Native American actress."

Years later and against all odds, her prophecy became true. She acted alongside some of Hollywood's best: Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Benicio Del Toro.

Last October Misty was found dead, skull and ribs broken, flies abuzz, in a wooded ravine in Auburn, Washington. Her body lay just above the turbulence of the White river. She was 32.

This story is about her demise. How she went missing for 11 days. How she was found by folks enlisted by her family, and not by the police. How she was mocked when she most needed help. How she survived rapes. How she inspired kids. And how as an indigenous woman, she was not alone in facing injustice.

Born on 6 July 1982, Misty grew up in Montana and Washington, moving on and off the Blackfeet reservation according to her family's financial needs. Her father was a music teacher, her mother a homemaker and occasional entrepreneur; they raised their three children as evangelical Christians.

Both of her parents were sent to boarding schools under a federal policy that eroded indigenous cultural and linguistic ties across the country. Still, Charles Upham wanted better for his children than reservation life.

"I was determined to take my kids away from the reservation, where so many young people fail out, to a place where they could get an education, have a grounding experience. I told the kids that they were going to learn that there is a stigma associated with being an American Indian. That people were racist, and that we lived under this stigma of alcoholism and being uneducated."

Misty found out the hard way in the city of Billings, where her family moved so her father could pursue his college degree in music education. "She had a friend who used to play with her and have her over at her house - until her mom found out that Misty was Native," Charles recalls. "Then her friend said they couldn't be friends anymore, because her mom didn't want to her to get bugs. Misty was crying to me, asking, 'What bugs?' And I said, 'She probably thinks we have lice.' Let me tell you, my kids were very clean and well dressed."

Their relative comfort worked against them once housing circumstances obliged them to return to the Blackfeet reservation, where jobs are hard to come by. "We had nice things. Other kids were poor. They invited Misty to watch some horses being broken, 20 kids out there. They beat her up."

Misty would later talk openly about being gang raped on the reservationwhen she was 13. She wrote about the physical and emotional legacy on her blog, The Struggles and Triumphs of a Blackfeet Native With a Dream, which was made private after her death. In it, she wrote:

First there is the physical pain and never being able to forget it. The fear of having someone hold you down, the cheering and the laughter. All these noises won't leave my mind. I keep hearing it, like a ghostly voice. But the physical is nothing compared to the mental.

That was not her first rape, either. Heather Rae (Cherokee), a film producer who was Misty's friend, said she "talked about having been abused as a young age, someone close to the family, that started when she was very young and continued." Because of these traumas, Rae said, Misty was "extraordinarily sensitive and contended with high levels of anxiety" throughout her life.

Misty was not alone in her suffering. More than one in three Native women are sexually assaulted in their lifetimes, a rate 2.5 times higher than other US women.

On the red carpet, on set, alone in her hotel rooms, Misty was afflicted by panic attacks that began when she was a teen. She fought to control them with prescribed medications and alcohol, both of which she abused. When those didn't work, she cut herself, leaving dozens of small scars on her forearms.

While her parents tried, they were not able to protect her from being damaged by her environment. During her time on the reservation, Misty became infected with the H pylori bacterium, common to places without clean water and proper sewage control and causing stomach ulcers. She threw up repeatedly until stomach acids ate her teeth and forced her to use dentures.

It was fresh from that experience that Misty summoned the courage to declare her hopes to the world. She would become an actress. Not just any actress - the best.

Fern Renville (Sisseton Wahpeton) is the managing director of Red Eagle Soaring, the Native theatre group that gave Misty her start. Renville said Misty "exemplified Indian persistence. She was tough as nails. She never expressed self-pity. She would express pain or angst, but not self-pity."

Despite being told by her first drama teacher to find another line of work, "she kept at it for five years, writing, directing, acting, finding her way in performance," her father said.

Eventually, Misty was filmed auditioning in Seattle. At the age of 20, she appeared in her first feature, Skins. The roles kept coming: Edge of America, Expiration Date, Frozen River, Big Love, Django Unchained. Misty only suffered from dry spells when she " refused to take 'rez roles '" portraying Native Americans as stereotypical drunks.

Charles left his job so he and his wife could stay with their daughter, who could not handle being alone. Their repeated moves, accumulated debt and occasional homelessness left a heavy load on Misty's young shoulders. She cleaned houses between casting calls and film festivals, working tirelessly to keep herself and her family afloat.

The list of her roles grew steadily - Jimmy P, August: Osage County, and Cake, released after her death - and with it, her status as the pre-eminent Native actor. Despite her success, mental illness and substance abuse continued to plague her.

"Acting has saved me from darkness many times," Misty said in June 2014 of her motivation to create a children's theatre troupe. "And most Native children have dreams just like every other child, but they may never touch those dreams because of poverty and isolation. I'm going to change that."

Melissa Leo, who co-starred with Misty in Frozen River, was one of a constellation of supporters who let Misty couch surf as a respite from the needs and fights of her family. Misty had "an extraordinarily complicated family life and reality," she said. "People saw her talent and overlooked the rest and hoped and prayed and helped her as we could."

This pattern continued after Misty left California for Washington to stay with her father as he recovered from a stroke. Misty and her parents moved into her sister's apartment, across the street from the Muckleshoot casino and downhill from the shabby forest where she would meet her death.

The medical examiner in King County ruled that Misty died due to blunt force trauma to the head and torso - injuries consistent with her plummet off a steep embankment. Using the cycles of fly larvae found in and around her body, the examiner dated the time of her death to the night of the first day of her disappearance. However, the medical examiner ruled that the manner of her death -whether by foul play, suicide or accident - could not be determined.

According to the toxicology report, Misty's blood alcohol level was .33 at the time of her death - a level of intoxication so extreme that its symptoms are complete unconsciousness, incontinence, low body temperatures and depressed or absent reflexes.

Friends and family said she was addicted to benzodiazepines to quell her anxiety. In her ongoing effort to bring her emotional and chemical balance under control, Misty had been prescribed Prozac, Ambien, Ativan, Xanax, Venlafaxine and Zoloft, her father said.

Like many low-income people living with mental illness, Misty relied on emergency room care after she moved back to Washington, in part because she had difficulty re-establishing psychiatric care to continue her prescriptions for depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and PTSD.

Reliant on the Indian Health Service, and perhaps unaware that she could supplement her healthcare with other resources under the Affordable Care Act, Misty was not able to secure a psychiatric appointment to continue her most critical prescriptions until late November - more than a month after she died, and more than five months after she moved back to Washington, according to her father.

While 70% of American Indians live in urban areas, only 1% of the Indian Health Service budget addresses urban programs, according to the Urban Indian Health Institute. This massive funding discrepancy shortchanges many people in serious need.

Still, Misty kept her sense of humor. During an ER visit to treat a panic attack, a nurse asked her about working with Meryl Streep. "I said sure," Misty wrote on Facebook. "But not while you're holding my pee."

Misty's newest movie, August: Osage County, was released to wide acclaim in the beginning of 2014. Amid a flurry of film promotions, Misty learned she was pregnant, announcing on 28 May that she would name her child Leaf, whether it was a boy or a girl. The identity of the father remains unclear.

"She was going to keep the baby - a baby boy," her father said. "She started keeping a journal for him, telling him who she was, how much she loved him, what she ate that day, anything and everything." Leaf gave her the reason she had been looking for to stay sober. "She quit drinking instantly," Renville said. "She was very firm."

But less than a month after announcing her pregnancy, Misty wrote on Facebook:

I am losing my pregnancy as we speak. I don't know if it is stress or what but it breaks my heart when people mention little Leaf. I trust God and there is a reason. Leaf will return to me some day and it will be under better circumstances. Thank you for all the prayers. Now I can focus on helping my parents to keep me busy.

Family and friends said that her emotional state frayed as summer ceded to fall. Still, she used her online presence to promote awareness of issues that many others try to hide. On 18 August, she posted:

I'm doing something that may be career suicide, but I thought, "How will people understand what we're going through? The mentally ill. I will be one of the many who have decided to be honest with my feelings, not to get sympathy or attention but to let people know there is such a thing as mental illness and it is more common than you think. It doesn't discriminate nor favor. It is the edge of loneliness. But that with help there is a sunnyside. There is always a sunnyside.

Hope and health remained hard to reach for Misty.

On 15 August 2014, seven weeks before Misty's death, Charles called the police. Misty was throwing things and swinging scissors around the family's small apartment.

Just after his call, an employee of the Muckleshoot Market & Deli across the street phoned the police. A "yelling, rambling" and shoeless woman was "prowling vehicles" behind the business, according to reports emailed by responding officers, who wrote that Misty was hiding in the bushes and would not be coaxed out, lunging at an officer who ducked into the foliage to talk to her.

"I remember each of us grabbing one of Misty's wrists then walking out with her," at which point "she began kicking, rolling on the ground and flailing her arms violently while yelling and screaming," an officer wrote. They handcuffed her and put her into the back of a patrol car, where he described her thrashing on the floor, spitting out her dentures, screaming "I am going to get all your badges!" and shouting that she would have "her lawyers make all of the officers lose our jobs" for mistreating a movie star.

In this account, Misty made a spectacle of herself.

Watching from across the street, her father saw a different scene.

"They were tapping the glass and making faces at her. She was crying and telling them to stop, that they couldn't treat her like this. And an officer said, 'Well, if you're a movie star, why don't you call up George Clooney?' Her mom was telling me to go over there, and I said, 'No, it's better that they don't know we're watching. I'll just get arrested.' But I had to take her purse to them. It had her medications, so I go over there, and he said to me, 'Is she delusional? She thinks she's a movie star.' And I said, 'She is.'"

Misty was involuntarily committed that night - her third time. An emailed police summary of Misty's case indicates she was afraid of being detained on involuntary hold again; her father said a hospital worker told her she could be committed for a year.

In a Facebook post, Charles Upham described the rest of the day:

After Misty arrived at the ER we went to see her and she has a swollen jaw, black eye and scratches and bruises on her shoulder. I asked the ER staff what happened and they said Misty was brought in like that. Misty said she couldn't remember what happened but that's why she feared the police.

Later on, the family would accuse the Auburn police department of brutality and mockery. "They denied it," Charles said. "We witnessed it."

The Auburn police countered with a press release that claimed they had responded to each of her family's calls "professionally and with compassion."

The responding officers wrote reports about that August night for administrative review, and one contained an admission that none of the other officers reported to have seen or heard:

Based upon the totality of the circumstances it appeared to me Upham's severe level of intoxication had caused her to fabricate her profession as a Hollywood actress with a Hollywood agent. I sarcastically questioned Upham about her profession and asked if she had ever met Hollywood actor Robin Williams ... At one point I interrupted her threats by making an abrupt and spontaneous babble noise in an attempt to distract her from her rants and get her to quit yelling.

It is unclear whether Misty sustained the scratches and bruises claimed by her family due to some prior event, police brutality, or as a byproduct of being dragged out of the bushes and handcuffed against her will while awaiting medical transport for a psychiatric evaluation. But to frame this officer's sarcastic mockery and gibberish as professional and compassionate is, on its face, untrue.

When the Guardian questioned the Auburn police department about it, commander Mike Hirman said: "Naturally, it was embarrassing for the department because we strive for professionalism." Calling the officer's actions "unprofessional," Hirman said, "we coached him, counseled him and noted it in his file. That behavior was not consistent with our core values."

However, Hirman denied that the Auburn police played a role in the injuries claimed by her family, adding "there was a great likelihood that she was injured because she was intoxicated with alcohol and prescription drugs." When asked how he knew that the officers had not injured Misty, Hirman said, "Whenever an officer uses force on any subject ... they are required to do a force report, and there were no force reports."

ess than one week after officers took his daughter into custody in the deli parking lot for a psychiatric evaluation, Charles called 911. According to the police, on 21 August 2014 Misty tried to hang herself and throw herself out her second floor window, both times restrained by her family. Misty was involuntarily committed again.

Two days later, again according to police records, Misty was "cooperative, friendly and calmed." She told a counselor brought to the ER that she "wanted anxiety meds" but had no "plan, intent or means to kill herself." The report states that Misty was given a safety plan but makes no mention of medication.

Six weeks later, on 5 October, she disappeared.

On that day, her father said Misty was inconsolable. Once again, he dialed 911. Charles said Misty ran off; he got his coat and ran right after her.

At the bottom of the stairs, he heard somebody say "Hey." The police officers walked up, he said; they insisted on searching the apartment. He told them she was not here, adding that they needed to find her now. But they made him go inside, and they "searched the whole apartment, looking in the closets and everything, which took about 10 minutes. She was gone." Charles said he told the officers: "'She could be hurt. I need you to help me find her!' They said, 'We can't. You have to wait 24 hours for her to be missing.'"

Hirman contradicted the family's account. "That is not our policy at all. If someone wants to report somebody missing, we do so right away." Police categorized that call as involving a person who was suicidal, not missing, Hirman said; officers left after checking the areas in and around the family's apartment.

The medical examiner estimated that she died about six hours later.

Still, while Auburn police records show that a detective was assigned to investigate Misty's disappearance on 7 October, two days after she went missing, there would be no official police search party, despite the family's repeated and desperate requests. "They said: 'We don't have evidence that she's missing. She's probably off partying somewhere with her friends,'" her father said.

Once her father called again to report Misty as missing on 6 October, Auburn police refused to elevate her status to endangered, which would issue a higher alert. On 10 October, when reporters asked the police department for a press release, commander Steve Stocker wrote that he had no plans to produce one.

Six days into the anguish of his daughter's disappearance, Charles asked his cousin Robert Upham (Dakota) to marshal a search party.

Two days later, on 13 October,detective Loran Orvis, who was assigned to the case, wrote to a fellow officer to inquire about the outcome of search efforts for Misty. "Outcome? Nothing has been done yet," replied officer Stephanie Bennett.

That same day, in response to many media inquiries, the police department issued its first press release confirming Misty was missing and asking for tips. Misty had been gone for eight days.

On 16 October, five days into Upham's search efforts, friends Robert Kennedy (Tlingit/Athabascan) and Jeff Barehand (Gila River/Navajo) took time away from their work and families to search for Misty.

As board president of Red Eagle Soaring, Barehand had seen Misty lead Native youth in workshops. It was his turn to help her. After a few hours of fruitless searching, Barehand consulted a map and zeroed in "on a wooded area that's both secluded and in the middle of the city. A place where bad things happen."

"We were walking along the ridge," Kennedy said. "I crawled down. It was steep. I noticed something purple. When I picked it up, it was heavy, and I knew it was a purse ... I dumped the contents, as soon as I looked through the ground, I noticed a medicine bottle said Misty Upham on it, and I knew."

While Kennedy climbed out to tell what he had found, Barehand continued down the hill.

"I couldn't see much - trees, vegetation, the river flowing below. I scrambled over to the west and peered over. I could see what looked like a shoe, a silver gray shoe. That's when I kind of freaked out, but I wasn't sure ... I wanted to confirm it before I called people."

Once he lowered himself over the cliff, using rope and a tree trunk, he began hacking his way through blackberries.

"That's the point where I lost my strength, because I felt I was going to find something, and I got scared, so scared that your body doesn't function, your legs lose strength to carry your own weight," Barehand said. "Everything feels heavy. I started walking and hacking, and it was the hardest thing ever. That little bit of ground I covered took everything out of me ... I didn't want to look, but I turned, and I saw her."

There lay the body of his friend, decomposed, riven by the fall and scavenged by animals.

Barehand stayed with Misty for hours, waiting for the police and fire departments. Officers insisted he remain at the base of the cliff, which was deemed too dangerous to allow the medical examiners to examine the site. Up top, the police had strung tape to keep back the crowd.

"Robert [Upham] was yelling at them, 'I wanted you guys here a week ago!'"Kennedy said. "This policeman yelled, 'Get away from my crime scene!' at Robert."

Barehand finally climbed up the slope. "After I went out, beyond the police lines, the family had been there, and they were asking whether it was her. They were hoping she was found alive. They kept asking, and the police were not telling them stuff, but I knew it was her. I felt an obligation to tell them. The mom completely broke down, screaming and yelling. Everybody did."

Barehand, Kennedy and Upham said the police did not debrief them or thank them for their service to the community. "They made me feel like a criminal," Kennedy said. "This policeman wouldn't say anything to me, just said, 'Lift up your feet. We got to take pictures of the bottom of your feet.' Didn't explain nothing. If they had said, 'This is standard protocol,' I would have understood."

They gave themselves what closure they could, gathered around the zipped up bag that held Misty.

"We were holding her body through the bag, feeling her arms, her head," her father said. "Some prayed in their Native tongue, and some in English, burning sage and smoke, putting cedar on her body. We just stayed with her as long as we could."

What became clear through the Guardian's freedom of information request for the city of Auburn's emails and police records referencing Misty Upham is that police officers spent more time responding to media and members of the public about Misty's case than they spent emailing each other about finding her.

While thepolice department took to Facebook to post pictures of K-9 puppies and ask for tips about ongoing investigations, they did not use their social media network to distribute photos of Misty during her disappearance.

"If Robert and I weren't there that day, she could still be out there," Barehand said. "So I am incensed that this governing body, the Auburn police department, didn't do the very least for Misty, for her parents, and for her friends."

"If they'd brought the search dogs out, they would have found her in 30 minutes," Charles Upham said. Hirman replied that calling out search dogs is "not practical" since their K-9s search "for bad guys, not missing persons." Police investigators did follow multiple leads, but they did not locate all of the persons of interest in her case.

In an emailed summary of police encounters with Misty, Hirman wrote of his department's decision not to categorize Misty as an endangered missing person: "Law enforcement is reluctant to use [the category] too often, its effectiveness might be lessened."

Though his department's records show that Misty was suicidal, in need of medication, brandishing a screwdriver, and wanting to jump from a window, Hirman wrote that Misty did not meet the police department's criteria for a heightened state of alert because she "could care for herself."

Auburn police officers involuntarily committed Misty four times in the two years prior to her death because she was suicidal and unable to care for herself. Despite police records showing Misty in uncontrolled episodes of hysteria, anxiety, depression and garbled language, Hirman has repeatedly told members of the media that Misty was not mentally ill. "She could also get into her car and drive and go to LA and act as a perfectly functioning adult human being,"he said.

The Native search party that formed to find Misty is a microcosm of a larger effort to build indigenous justice. The scale of the need is vast. During the time that Misty was gone, she was one of more than a thousand indigenous women missing in North America.

Lauren Chief Elk (Nakoda), co-founder of the Missing Sisters Crowdmap, said: "Pretty much everything that has happened with Misty is so unfortunately par for the course ... The police response is very common: 'We don't have to take this seriously because Native girls are off partying. They went to visit friends and will be back.' The immediate response is disbelieving."

Chief Elk credits "many layers of erasure" - failures by police, legislative bodies, healthcare systems and the media - for the epidemic of missing indigenous women. She also believes that the criminal legal policing system is "terrorizing communities of color."

The failure to work on behalf of Native people is common, said Amnesty International research director Rachel Ward. Ward cited a case in Alaska where state troopers refused to send an officer to investigate a rape but sent three officers to investigate the poaching of a moose. "The obstacles to getting response begin as soon as someone picks up the phone, if indeed the community reports the crime," she said.

The FBI could have overseen the investigation of Misty's disappearance. Misty went missing on Muckleshoot reservation land contained within the city of Auburn and patrolled by the Auburn police department. But expert Sarah Deer (Muskogee [Creek] Nation), a professor at William Mitchell College of Law, said there are 115 special agents for the 200 Indian reservations where the FBI has authority - less than one per reservation. "With the crime rate as high as it is, there is no logistical way for them to be effective," Deer said.

"The lesson from all this for [Auburn PD] is to maintain closer contact with the family," Hirman said. "If people decide they they're not going to trust the investigation or police department, then they don't talk to us, and we can't afford that."

Despite the recent tribute to her memory at the Oscars, public attention surrounding the way Misty died has overshadowed the person she was when she was well. Friends remember Misty's talent, courage, and the delight she took in being alive. "Her legacy is huge for Native young people interested in being in film. It's a door that she opened. It seems possible to them: 'Misty did it. We can do it,'" Renville said.

Her family wants reform to come of their loss.

"We're hoping that her death isn't just a senseless tragedy," her father said. "That it will mean something, and provide some kind of service for other women who are out there who may become victims, or for families who have missing members. A lot of this is preventable. They could have found her in the first half hour. She could have been saved."

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Misty Upham: the tragic death and unscripted life of Hollywood's rising star

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When Misty Upham was 12, she announced herself to a Seattle classroom of aspiring performers. "My name is Misty Upham, and someday you will know that name as the best living Native American actress." Years later and against all odds, her prophecy became true.

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In an April 2, 2019, press release, Congresswoman Haaland explained, “The stakes are too high to keep the status quo in place. I’m introducing potentially life-saving amendments so that we can begin to break the cycles of domestic violence and missing and murdered indigenous women by providing resources and information sharing amendments to keep survivors of domestic violence safe from harm ultimately preventing future cases.” Haaland has proposed two amendments to the Violence Against Women Act Reauthorization (VAWA), HR 1585.

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Congress finally passed two laws—Savanna’s Act and the Not Invisible Act—to address the epidemic of violence against Indigenous women in the United States.

Savanna's Act directs the Department of Justice to create standardized procedures to address cases of missing or murdered Native American women. To work closely with tribal organizations and law enforcement agencies, and to report statistics on missing or murdered Native Americans to Congress every year. It also authorizes the Department of Justice to provide grants to train law enforcement on how to handle these cases.

The Not Invisible Act focuses on violent crime against Indigenous people. Requiring the creation of an advisory committee made up of tribal leaders, law enforcement officers, families of victims, and survivors of violence. The committee is tasked with making recommendations to the Department of Justice and the Department of the Interior on how best to combat violence against Indigenous people.

https://msmagazine.com/2020/10/06/congress-finally-passes-legislation-to-address-missing-and-murdered-indigenous-women/

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Two bills addressing the epidemic of missing, murdered and trafficked Indigenous women-Savanna's Act and the Not Invisible Act-were signed into law by President Trump on Sunday.

A participant at a "Greater than Fear" march in Minnesota raises awareness of violence against Native American women. (Lorie Shaull / Flickr)

In August of 2017, a young pregnant woman named Savanna LaFontaine-Greywind was abducted and killed in Fargo, N.D. Savanna was one of over 5,646 American Indian and Alaska Native women and girls reported missing in 2017, according to the FBI's National Crime Information Center.

Native American women are murdered at 10 times the national average. According to the National Institute of Justice, 84 percent of Native women experience violence in their lifetimes and 56 percent experience sexual violence. An astounding 97 percent of these women are victimized by non-Native perpetrators.

Late last month, Congress finally passed two laws- Savanna's Act (named after Savanna LaFontaine-Greywind) and the Not Invisible Act-to address the epidemic of violence against Indigenous women in the United States.

On Sunday, after securing a signature from Trump, they become law of the land.

I've been fighting for Savanna's Act and the Not Invisible Act. I'm so proud we made them law.

This is a first step to responding to centuries of violence against Indigenous women.

Thanks to @SenCortezMasto and the Senate Democrats for leading this effort with Native advocates.
- Chuck Schumer (@SenSchumer) October 12, 2020

For years, the Coalition to Stop Violence Against Native Women and the National Indigenous Women's Resource Institute have been sounding the alarm about missing and murdered indigenous women and girls (MMIWG), along with the Sovereign Bodies Institute and the Urban Indian Health Institute, among others.

"This has been a year of real visibility for the issue of missing and murdered indigenous women," says Professor Sarah Deer, a member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation of Oklahoma and expert on sexual violence against Native women. "There has been more attention drawn to it. And that's largely the result of activism on the issue from policy organizations, direct service people, grassroots activists, families [of victims] and survivors."

"It's been a whirlwind of visibility. A perfect storm, in a good way."

The MMIWG movement has held vigils, created databases to track those missing, organized marches and community meetings, and attended local city and tribal council meetings. Artist Jaime Black's REDress Project at the Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian used bright red dresses to represent the overwhelming number of women and girls missing from Native communities each year.

"You can't understate the importance of grassroots activists, families and survivors coming forward," says Deer. "It's not easy for them to be in the public eye, but survivors and family members have been really important."

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The new laws are a result of the efforts of Deb Haaland, a Laguna Pueblo woman from New Mexico, and Sharice Davids, a member of the Ho-Chunk Nation from Kansas, who in 2019 joined the U.S. House of Representatives as the first Native American women ever to serve in Congress. They made passing legislation to address MMIWG a priority.

In the new @VanityFair : a Martin Schoeller portfolio on the new power players in Washington. This image: incoming House members Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ayanna Pressley, Ilhan Omar, Deb Haaland, Veronica Escobar & Sharice Davids pic.twitter.com/wBxYKkNLPQ
- David Friend (@DavidMFriend1) January 2, 2019

"All women deserve to live without fear of disappearing without a trace, but the missing and murdered indigenous women crisis persists and indigenous people continue to go missing. Today, we moved to say 'enough is enough,'" said Rep. Haaland, co-chair of the Congressional Native American Caucus.

Savanna's Act and the Not Invisible Act

Savanna's Act directs the Department of Justice (DOJ) to create standardized procedures to address cases of missing or murdered Native American women, to work closely with tribal organizations and law enforcement agencies, and to report statistics on missing or murdered Native Americans to Congress every year. It also authorizes the DOJ to provide grants to train law enforcement agencies on how to handle these cases.

The Not Invisible Act focuses on violent crime against Natives more broadly, requiring the creation of an advisory committee made up of tribal leaders, law enforcement officers, families of victims, and survivors of violence. The committee is tasked with making recommendations to the DOJ and the Department of the Interior on how best to combat violence against Native Americans.

"A real solution to this crisis will never be found without the explicit inclusion of survivors, which is what is so special about this bill," said Haaland.

She says the law requires "meaningful input from the survivors of these horrific crimes and Tribal leaders to ensure law enforcement has the guidance it needs to address missing persons cases from people who know the issue first hand."

"What both of these bills will do is get everyone at the same table at the same time. That has been much harder than you would think," says Deer, who testified on the bills before Congress last April.

They require coordination among the three federal agencies tasked with responding to crimes against Native Americans-the Department of Justice, the Department of Interior, and the Department of Health and Human Services.

"They haven't traditionally always been on the same page," Deer told Ms.

Savanna's Act nearly became law in 2018, passing the Senate with unanimous consent. But one Republican representative, Bob Goodlatte of Massachusetts, used his last days in office to block a vote on the bill in the House due to "petty partisan games," according to the bill's author, former Sen. Heidi Heitkamp (D-N.D.).

So in 2019, when Reps. Haaland and Davids arrived in Congress, they immediately took up the fight. They co-sponsored the Not Invisible Act with Republican Representatives Tom Cole (La.) and Markwayne Mullin (Okla.), making it the first bill to be introduced by four enrolled members of federally recognized tribes-the Pueblo of Laguna, the Ho-Chunk Nation of Wisconsin, the Chickasaw Nation of Oklahoma, and the Cherokee Nation.

In the Senate, Sens. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska) and Catherine Cortez Masto (D-Nev.) reintroduced Savanna's Act.

Murkowski's support for the bill came after she came under fire for excluding Native Alaskans from a law allowing tribal courts to prosecute domestic violence committed by non-Natives. She later reversed her position and has been working hard to regain the trust and support of Native Alaskans.

While the president signed both bills on Sunday, Trump has a complex and difficult relationship with Native Americans, at times using slurs as political insults-such his repeated use of the racial slur "Pocahontas" to refer to Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.).

In 2019, Trump issued an executive order creating a task force to investigate cases of missing Native American women-although Native activists criticized the order for excluding survivors and for not providing enough funding to address the severity of the issue. But in December, Trump signed into law three pro-tribal, bipartisan bills, so activists hope that he will sign the Not Invisible Act and Savanna's Act too.

"Today's signing puts us on a path towards greater justice for thousands of Native women and girls that have been missing, trafficked or taken far too soon and puts into place the tools needed to give our Native sisters, mothers and daughters greater security. No longer will these women be invisible, and may the memory of Savanna LaFontaine-Greywind live on in the law that bears her name," said Sen. Catherine Cortez Masto (D-Nev.).

"I thank my colleague Senator Murkowski for leading this bill with me and the President for signing this bipartisan legislation."

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Legislation to Address Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women Signed into Law - Ms. Magazine

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Two bills addressing the epidemic of missing, murdered and trafficked Indigenous women-Savanna's Act and the Not Invisible Act-were signed into law by President Trump on Sunday. In August of 2017, a young pregnant woman named Savanna LaFontaine-Greywind was abducted and killed in Fargo, N.D.

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She was 20, and was unfortunately present at a shooting and got shot to death on March 30, 2021. Yakima County Sheriff’s deputies were called and found numerous injured people at the scene.

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Alfred Anaya, 67, of Toppenish died Jan. 1 after he was hit in a head-on collision on U.S. Highway 97 near Wapato High School. Luberto Fernandez Rodriguez has been charged with first-degree murder in his death. The Washington State Patrol is investigating.

Rocio Ramos-Martinez, 30, died Jan. 4, three days after Yakima police say she was brutally attacked near the former Astria Regional Medical Center. Luberto Fernandez Rodriguez, 37, has been charged with aggravated first-degree murder in the case. Yakima police are investigating.

Angel Anthony Faz, 27, of Grandview died Jan 7 after he was shot multiple times in the 2300 block of Yakima Valley Highway. Sunnyside police arrested a 26-year-old Mabton man in connection with the killing, but Yakima County Prosecuting Attorney Joe Brusic declined to file charges pending additional evidence.

Charles Ellis Wade Mills, 45, of Yakima was fatally shot at his home in the 900 block of South 29th Avenue Jan. 27. Yakima police arrested his stepson, Jonathan A. Hidalgo, 18, on suspicion of second-degree murder.

Victor J. Ramos, 28, was found shot in the 1200 block of Roosevelt Court in Sunnyside Jan. 31, and later died at Astria Sunnyside Hospital. Adrian Bueno, 28, and Francisco Rudy Gallardo, 41, have been charged in the killing. Sunnyside police are investigating.

Roger Harrington, 66, and Tyler Aalbu, 32, were found inside a burned home at 2210 S. Fifth Ave. in Union Gap following a March 28 fire. Union Gap police said the fire was deliberately set and the men died of smoke inhalation.

Tiana Lee Rain Cloud, 20, was killed in a shooting in the 3100 block of S. Wapato Road around 11 p.m. March 30. The FBI is investigating because the victim was a citizen of the Yakama Nation and the killing occurred within the Yakama Nation's reservation boundaries.

Anthony C. Rodriguez, 37, was shot and killed outside the Motel 6 at North 11th Street and Staff Sgt. Pendleton Way April 5. Yakima police arrested Rene Hernandez Castillo Jr., 37, on charges of second-degree murder and drive-by shooting.

Caspar Garcia Villicana, 42, was found dead with multiple stab wounds in his home in the 1100 block of South 32nd Avenue May 1. Yakima police arrested Gilberto Guzman, 44, on suspicion of second-degree murder in the case.

Diana Calixtro, 27, of Yakima died May 8 after being shot outside a home in the 1100 block of South Fair Avenue. Russell Paul Whitefoot, 32, of Wapato has been charged with first-degree murder in the case. Yakima police are investigating.

Andre Terrence Harrell, 29, of Granger, was fatally shot in an apparent drive-by shooting at the intersection of Fourth Street and Bailey Avenue May 22. Yakima County Sheriff's Office and Granger police are investigating.

Marcus Lagmay, 32, of Wapato, was shot in the 100 block of Egan Road in the Wapato area. The FBI and Yakama Nation Tribal Police are investigating.

Oscar Ricardo Hondal-Lopez, 30, of Yakima was fatally shot June 10 while driving in the 1200 block of Cornell Avenue. Yakima police have arrested two of four suspects, Sergio Alejandro Perez and Rogelio Jose Sosa.

Jose Mendoza-Martinez, 38, was fatally shot after Yakima police said he broke into a home at the Almost Sunshine RV Park, 218. E. N St., June 24. Yakima County Prosecuting Attorney Joe Brusic found, after reviewing the Yakima police investigation, that the killing was an act of self-defense.

Jose De Rivera De La Cruz, 23, of Wapato was shot and killed outside the Valley Mall on Aug. 22. Union Gap police arrested Jonathan Edgar Navvaro, 26, who is charged with first-degree murder in the case.

Yolanda Cervera Tapia, 51, of Yakima was found strangled to death in her home Aug. 30. Yakima police have obtained a warrant for the arrest of her ex-boyfriend, David Rosales-Rosales, 50, on a second-degree murder charge.

Richard Hayden McFarland, 58, a transient was fatally stabbed in the 1300 block of North First Street Sept. 4.Justin Allen Stone, 30, is charged with second-degree murder in his death. Yakima police are investigating.

Todd William Kopinski, 49, of Selah was fatally shot Sept. 17 at a home in the 500 block of Irene Lane. Kerrie Ann Mathews, 51, was arrested in connection with his death, but was released pending further investigation. Yakima County Sheriff's Office is investigating.

Sonia Valenzuela, 18, of Toppenish was fatally shot Oct. 3 in the 200 block of North E. Street. Toppenish police are investigating.

Anyone with information about any of the cases is asked to call the investigating agency or Yakima County Crime Stoppers at 800-248-9980. Tips can also be submitted online at www.crimestoppersyakco.org

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Autopsy to be performed on woman killed in Wapato shooting

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Alfred Anaya, 67, of Toppenish died Jan. 1 after he was hit in a head-on collision on U.S. Highway 97 near Wapato High School. Luberto Fernandez Rodriguez has been charged with first-degree murder in his death. The Washington State Patrol is investigating. Rocio Ramos-Martinez, 30, died Jan.

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Rep. Deb Haaland (D-NM-0) helped craft Savanna’s Act legislation, along with many other legislation's and policies that help Indigenous people.

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This presidential task force focuses on changing protocol, and consulting with Native Americans to ensure they are given the proper law enforcement response when indigenous people are reported missing or murdered. This talk force is investigating open and cold cases, gathering information, and doing outreach to help bring awareness. On their website people can find various resources on the legal rights people have, advocates that can help, and funding that is available.

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The Task Force has been empowered to conduct consultations; develop model protocols to apply to new and unsolved cases of missing or murdered persons in American Indian and Alaska Native (AI/AN) communities, including best practices for law enforcement response, data sharing, and better use of databases; establish multi-disciplinary and multi-jurisdictional teams to review cold cases that involve missing and murdered AI/AN; and develop both an education/outreach campaign and a public awareness campaign. However, the Task Force itself does not have the authority to review or investigate ongoing cases or cold cases, nor to provide direct or indirect support to victims or families at any stage of the criminal investigation or proceedings. If you or your family requires additional assistance, there are resources that may be able to provide assistance or refer you to organizations that might assist you.

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The Presidential Task Force on Missing and Murdered American Indians and Alaska Natives

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The Task Force has been empowered to conduct consultations; develop model protocols to apply to new and unsolved cases of missing or murdered persons in American Indian and Alaska Native (AI/AN) communities, including best practices for law enforcement response, data sharing, and better use of databases; establish multi-disciplinary and multi-jurisdictional teams to review cold cases that involve missing and murdered AI/AN; and develop both an education/outreach campaign and a public awareness campaign.

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Comprehensive data on this issue is almost impossible to get since many cases do not get reported or even looked at. This makes it extremely difficult to help kee track of cases and solve them.

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The Coalition to Stop Violence Against Native Women is a group that fight to stop the violence against Native women and children. Their main goal is to change the communities social dynamic by outreach and education, to end the violence on these communities. They have helped by doing outreaching and bring awareness to the sex trafficking that goes on in New Mexicos, tribal communities. CSVANW has helped write policy and have done research to find solutions to end violence.

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This website has so many resources and even little things like how to close the page quickly if they feel someone is watching them. Native people can get assistant by either calling the hotline, by chatting on the website, emailing them it's very accessible and they purpose is to help evaluate the situation and get the victim the resources they may need and if needed get them out as soon as possible. This website is really just amazing, it breaks everything down to steps even has a blur dedicated to identifying abuse and giving hope. It's just a very informative website with emotional and financial assistance for when people are being abused.

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MMIW mission it to not only being victims back home but a main part is to help the families of the victims to get the emotional support and to help them. They meet once a month to educate each other and to learn self-defense in an effort to reduce the amount of indigenous women who are stolen. They are also loud advocates and help advocate for missing indigenous women and bring legal attention to the fact that they need more help and attention.

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https://www.nativehope.org/en-us/understanding-the-issue-of-missing-and-murdered-indigenous-women

https://www.nativewomenswilderness.org/mmiw