"White Bird" - Sarah Ball
Tiffany Drew.
Hers was the name I was given to pin onto my jacket with the purple and yellow ribbon. Every woman, missing and murdered from the downtown Eastside was named on a ribbon-ed name tag. Every woman, faceless and nameless and voiceless, had her name written and spoken and heard.
Tiffany was last seen in December 1999. She would be 27 years old.
The Women's Memorial March yesterday was one of the most powerful experiences I have ever had. Close to one thousand people were led through the streets of the downtown Eastside by a group of First Nations elders, drumming and singing the Woman's Warrior Song. I felt so many things. Anger, profound sorrow, a grave sense of injustice. And at the same time, a deep feeling of gratitude to be part of something bigger than each of us. Not for what I was contributing and bringing to it, but what it brought to me.
And then deep disappointment when the story was given all of sixty seconds...maybe.....on the evening news. Disappointing, but not surprising. And ironic that the commentary for the story described the march as a way for the community to "never forget" the tragedy of these women. Too bad we couldn't start by giving the story more than "filler" status and not burying it well past the lead stories on the local news. When will we get it. But that rant is for another time.
Tonight, this is for you Tiffany Louise Drew.
We speak your name.