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It’s not fair

 It’s not fair


Another body of an indigenous woman has turned up in the landfill....and it’s not the one they expected to find. 

It’s an unspeakable horror. 

I’m ashamed that it was not the headline about this this tragedy that caught my attention and pierced my heart but rather the connection to someone I know. 

A Facebook friend who used to volunteer with LBE recognized the name in the news as a beautiful, plucky, caring, servant-hearted girl who had been part of the kids clubs when he was younger. His lament for her brought this woman’s life out of the news and into reality. 

Yet how can this be reality? What trauma it must inflict upon a community never knowing who may disppear next! And to be treated in such a careless, dignity-less way after violence. 

I walk the same streets as these women. In the downtown, I get around by foot and by bike at all hours of the day or night. There *are* times I decide it’s more prudent not to be out alone “this late” and I find an alternative, but those times are less frequent than one might expect. This girl has been known to come home from the office after midnight, after all. 

I like to believe my fearless walking about is not only a protest – my own daily “take back the night” march, I like to say – but also an effect. I like to think that my being out there adds to the potential safety others might experience in the out-and-about. I like to hope my cloak of privilege can be extended to cover others as I stride confidently in the dark.

But it’s clearly not enough. 

I’ll keep defiantly walking, but it’s just not fair that it’s not safe for other women to do so. 

What will it take for people to understand that these women have value? They must not be mistreated and they cannot be thrown away. They will not be forgotten!

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