Aboriginal, women’s groups honour missing women
By Ljudmila Petrovic
Photos by Ljudmila Petrovic
It was a rainy and grey Valentine’s Day and the smell of burning sage was rising above the banners that crowded the corner at Main and Hastings. “In memory of those that are no longer with us,” read one. “RIP Teressa Williams,” another.
A large crowd of people of all genders and cultural backgrounds had gathered for the 22nd Annual Women’s Memorial March; female or not, Aboriginal or otherwise, everybody was there to honor and respect the missing women of the Downtown Eastside.
In 1991, a Coast Salish woman was murdered on Powell Street, sparking the first women’s memorial march on Valentine’s Day of that year. 22 years later, the march continues every Valentine’s Day to honor her memory and the memories of women like her. The first woman on Vancouver’s missing women’s list went missing Sept. 12, 1978; by 2001, a joint police task force estimated the number of missing women at 45.
In 2002, pig farmer William Pickton was arrested and charged in association to 27 of the murdered women. In 2007, he was finally convicted of only six of these charges, and the number of missing women in the Downtown Eastside alone is estimated at well over 60.
Dozens of women have gone missing between 1969 and 2006 from the “Highway of Tears” — an 800 km stretch of highway between Prince George and Prince Rupert. Due to the lack of transportation in the area, women are often forced to hitchhike, and while the official victim count lies at 18, many Aboriginal community leaders have estimated that the numbers are significantly higher, even as steep as 45.
This year’s event began at 11 a.m., with family members of the missing women speaking out in front of Carnegie Community Center Theatre. At noon, the general public was invited to join them and begin the march, which circles around the DTES, stopping at places where women were last seen or found. As the march snaked around the neighborhood, the community resonated with the sound of beating drums and song — stopping only at intervals to perform traditional ceremonies or to lay roses at these spots.
The air was heavy and somber, but there was nonetheless a sense of resilience, love and compassion. One Aboriginal woman was handing out handmade cards that read, “Each time a person stands up for an ideal . . . she sends forth a tiny ripple of hope. These ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” As a cameraman passed by her, she pressed one into his hand, only to have him push it back to her, saying he didn’t want it.
“If you’re filming this, you should know what it’s about,” she insisted. “It’s about love and respect.” This sentiment was reflected when the march stopped in front of the courtroom for speeches by community activists. Tears flowed freely as Beverley Jacobs, former President of the Native Women’s Association of Canada took the microphone.
She spoke of honouring the spirits of the missing women, but she was also sure to point out the shortfalls of the police and RCMP in dealing with the issue of missing women, two months after Commissioner Wally Oppal released a 1,448- page report concluding that police work was in fact inadequate and biased, and led to so many disappearances.
“This hasn’t stopped. Still, after all these years, we still have missing and murdered Indigenous women in this country,” she said, to cries of “shame!” “We need our allies to stand with us, because we are all in this together.” She was followed by Aboriginal activist CJ Julien, who spoke of her own experiences as a recovering addict and former sex worker, and her sister, who was found murdered in 1992, only five minutes away from the Pickton farm.
“There is no justice in this courthouse. No justice at all,” she exclaimed, pointing behind her. “They didn’t care to listen to me. They called me a junkie, a prostitute, an Indian. Shame on them!” She, too, spoke of the internal power struggles and disinterest that led to the Pickton Inquiry’s failure.
“There’s still denying justice, and they’re still not cooperating with one another . . . but yet all those women, all my sisters and my friends, were going missing.”
The march continued until the crowd reached Oppenheimer Park at 2:30 p.m., where everyone gathered with candles around the park’s totem pole for a healing circle. Several eagles circled over the healing circle at Oppenheimer Park as family members of the missing women beat their drums and sang. “They’re telling us that [the women] are all alright,” whispered one woman.
