The following editorial originally appeared in the Yakima Herald-Republic:
Hope can be elusive. Fleeting. It can feel like it’s taunting you — rising one moment, then slipping into the dark without warning.
But sometimes it’s all we have.
Families of missing and murdered Indigenous people know this all too well. Many have suffered for years, with no way of knowing what might have befallen their daughters, wives, sisters, mothers.
And too many families have experienced the anguish of not even being able to convince authorities that their missing loved ones might be in danger.
In the past few weeks, though, hope has flickered for at least three Yakama families — a total of eight defendants stand accused in two separate homicides, and a Seattle man has been sentenced to prison for a third, unrelated murder.
Six of those defendants were indicted in connection with the case of Rosenda Sophia Strong, a 31-year-old mother of four, who was Umatilla and Yakama. She was found shot to death in an abandoned freezer outside Toppenish in July 2019, nearly a year after she disappeared.
Two were indicted in the death of Destiny Lloyd, 23, who disappeared on Christmas Day 2017. The Yakama woman’s body was found four days later.
And in King County, 33-year-old Charles Becker was sentenced to 34 years in prison for the June 2022 killing of Mavis “Boots” Kindness Nelson. The 56-year-old Yakama woman was a mother of three who lived in Seattle.
The deaths of all three women are incomprehensible, senseless. Their families will no doubt bear the scars of the tragedies forever.
It seems, however, that there’s some consolation in seeing that the justice system hasn’t abandoned those or several other ongoing cases.
That’s thanks in no small part to the advocacy of many of the families themselves, who have spoken out tirelessly to bring greater attention to the issue of missing and murdered Indigenous people.
They’ve lobbied lawmakers, law enforcement representatives, media — anyone who would listen — to raise awareness about a decades-long crisis that has plagued reservations around the country.
To their credit, many state and local officials are finally listening, which has added leverage to better understanding and addressing the problem.
Nothing can fill the void of the families’ losses, but the compassionate efforts of people like Rosenda Sophia Strong’s older sister, Cissy Strong Reyes, are helping others grow stronger and perhaps guard against future tragedies.
Reyes has been outspoken in pushing for justice for her sister, and now she’s generous in offering support and advice to other families going through what hers has endured:
“Keep them visible,” she said. “Keep doing what I’m doing. I don’t want them to lose hope.”
Reyes knows how elusive that hope can be. Clearly, she and many other families also know the power of spreading it.
