My sister was the kind of beautiful that when she danced at the pow wow, in her turquoise blue dress embroidered with white flowers and trimmed with red fringe, the rest of the crowd danced a bit slower just to watch her. When she was born, the entire reserve gathered to “ooh” and “ahh” over her chubby bronze cheeks, congratulating my mother on her first child. My sister Marie was beautiful, even when she was a baby. My story was inspired by the uniquely moving stories of countless aboriginal women, and the hope of my protagonist, Violet, is inspired by the unwavering hope of the countless families of those women.
Discovering my own voice amidst the outside noise is a challenging task, but it is the strength and wisdom of female Elders before me that enables me to believe that regardless of the limitations put on me by society, I can achieve anything. As a young Aboriginal woman, I fight stereotypes and ignorance daily, resisting the urge to be afraid of who I am, all the while questioning how much I can let my race and culture influence my actions. The thought that violence is directed toward a human based on their gender and race is disheartening to me.
These individuals are all grouped into the category of “just another missing Indian woman”. Society casts our women aside, and objectifies them to the point where the cases are disturbingly similar, and yet these women come from unique backgrounds and all social classes. Five hundred of our sisters, mothers, and daughters have been missing for years for no reason other than they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that they were Aboriginal. Over 500 aboriginal women have gone missing in the past 15 years in western Canada.
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