♪♪
-When I go out jogging by myself,
it feels like I can go somewhere that's just, like, a break,
like a little vacation kind of...
just a break from any of the stress or feelings
that I might have been feeling that day.
Without running, I wouldn't be where I am right now.
I work, and I run for Native people.
[ Speaking Native language ]
Hello, my name is Rosalie Fish,
and I'm from the Muckleshoot tribe.
I grew up around Muckleshoot,
and I went to Muckleshoot Tribal School.
[ Flute playing ]
♪♪
I've been doing coastal jams and canoe paddling
as long as I can remember.
We did powwows, too.
I did fancy dance powwow for a long time.
We have a division called "Tiny Tots," and I did that.
[ Speaking Native language ]
It was something that I didn't realize how much it meant to me
until I got a little bit older.
It was just something that was part of my life,
that was part of my schedule, and suddenly knew what it meant
as I got older.
it's a connection to my ancestors
and to my traditions,
and it can be really healing for me to know
that people have fought for me to be able to do these things.
♪♪
I started running in middle school.
I didn't really like it as much then
just because I didn't know what it could do for me.
I didn't really think I was that good at it.
And then when I went to tribal school,
running meant something else.
I would show up to meets, and people thought
that I wouldn't do well.
And there were these non-Native schools,
and they would look down on us.
Muckleshoot Tribal School -- we had a basketball game.
And there was a confrontation on the court.
And then, when that team had left,
they wrote "dirty Indian savages" all over our walls.
They said, like, all kinds of graffiti
that was really demeaning and racist.
And that's the kind of tone that I can get sometimes
running from a Native school with a Native uniform.
And so for me to be able
to put in the work at practice and then show up
and exceed these people's expectations of me
when I could go and prove them wrong and say,
"You're wrong about Natives, and you're wrong about me,"
that was something that nobody could take away from me.
That's why I kept running.
♪♪
Growing up, you kind of slowly begin to normalize
Native women in your community going missing or being murdered
or just being gone.
Murder is the third leading cause of death for Native women.
And what really makes Native women so vulnerable
to this issue is that intersectionality
between being a woman and being a Native American.
MMIW is an acronym for "Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women."
Over 80% of indigenous women
will face some type of violence within their lifetimes.
A lot of people still don't know what MMIW is,
and I think that's due to the lack of visibility
that indigenous people have.
And that's something that has been really hard,
and specifically a key factor in the MMIW epidemic
is that neglect and invisibility.
I didn't learn about that MMIW movement.
It was -- I learned that what was happening had a name.
It had an acronym.
When I saw Jordan Marie Daniel,
it was a picture of her with the Red Handprint
and the acronym down her leg.
Yeah, she ran the Boston Marathon.
Yeah, she dedicated each of her 26 miles
to a murdered or missing indigenous woman,
and she prayed for them as she ran.
I was so shocked, because she was a Native woman
in a running uniform.
The fact that she had paint on
and she was representing and advocating
and doing something more with her running
than just empowering herself -- it really opened my eyes.
I need to do something more, too, and I really admire her.
I still do.
And she's really one of the most amazing people I know.
Then I realized,
when I saw Jordan Marie Daniel run with the paint,
that I could combine my Native culture
and I could combine, you know, how I felt about MMIW,
and I could combine that with my running that empowered me,
and I could use that as a platform.
So for my final track meet at Eastern Washington University,
I ran four events, and for each of the finals,
I ran with a red handprint and MMIW down my right leg.
The red handprint over my mouth
was to represent murdered and missing indigenous women
and the women that have been silenced through violence.
And the MMIW was the acronym for that.
I ran the 1600 meter for Alice Looney,
the 800 meter for Jacqueline Salyers,
the 3200 meter for Renee Davis,
and the 400 meter for Misty Upham.
The 1600 was really difficult
because it was the first race I ran with the paint,
and it was because it was for someone
that was related to me...
...my aunt, Alice Looney.
I was young, but I remember how my aunts would talk about her
and, you know, how she cooked all the time
and how she loved cooking for everybody
and how one day she just went missing and was taken.
♪♪
They looked for her for over a year --
My Aunt Caroline and my Auntie Mary.
♪♪
And then, when she was finally found, it was a really...
just stressful moment, and...
nobody knows still what happened exactly.
And while they're grateful to have her home
and to not be looking anymore,
it's still really damaging to know that, over a year,
nobody knows what happened to her.
♪♪
When I think about, you know, my aunt, I think about my sister
and my other aunties who are all affected by that.
And that really was something difficult,
you know, to think about while I was running.
And when I crossed the finish line
at a way slower time than I expected,
I didn't know what was going on.
I felt like I didn't give everything I had.
I felt like I let people down.
And then it wasn't until I talked to Jordan that night
and she told me that what I was feeling was normal
and that she had experienced something like that
when she had ran with the paint,
and with that, it really changed my perspective
on how I was running these times and these races.
And it really wasn't about the times anymore.
I ran my 3200 meter for Renee Davis
and her unborn son, Massi.
And she was six months pregnant at the time with Massi.
A community member called for a welfare check,
and then when the police arrived,
they shot her in front of her two children.
And from what Native people have seen,
police don't care about Native lives,
and they don't care about Native women.
She was shot on the Muckleshoot reservation,
and that's home to me,
and to know that she was taken from home was...
really difficult to think about.
My 3200 was, by far, one of the hardest races I ran --
that I was not only running for her,
but I was running for Massi.
And it was eight laps
of thinking about her and her family
and praying for, you know, her peace and her rest.
And it was very emotional just because of how close she was.
She was a Muckleshoot tribal member.
I dedicated my 800 race to Jacqueline Salyers.
Jacqueline Saylers was from the Puyallup tribe.
And she was shot and killed in Tacoma
when police were trying to arrest her boyfriend.
She was pregnant at the time, and she had children.
By the time that I got to the 800,
it felt more so like my responsibility.
All the nerves had gone away,
and it was really stepping up to the line
and knowing that I had a job to do
and that this was way bigger than how my legs felt
or how tired I was.
Well, I need to represent this person,
and I need to represent them with grace and honor.
And I need to be humble about my actions.
I dedicated my 400-meter race to Misty Upham,
whose disappearance and finding
really impacted me as I was growing up,
especially being on the Muckleshoot reservation.
Misty was a member of the Blackfeet Nation
and a successful actress, who starred in "Frozen River,"
which made it to the Golden Globes.
She was found deceased on the Muckleshoot reservation
where I live.
After going missing for 11 days,
the police hadn't looked for her.
And when Muckleshoot members finally found her,
the police mislabeled her death as a suicide.
After my 800-meter run,
I was absolutely exhausted and emotionally very heavy.
Right before my last race for Misty, my coach told me,
"Remember why you're doing this?"
He said, "I know your legs are tired.
I know you don't want to run anymore."
He said, "I know you just want to break,
but you don't care about any of that.
I want you to think about your little sister, Solstice,
and my girls, Cleo and Nyala,
and all of the Native girls and women
that are depending on you right now.
And I want you to run for them, and I don't want anything left."
It was kind of hard not to tear up.
And I ran out there, and for a second, I thought,
"I have nothing left. I'm gonna come in third."
And I just -- I sprinted.
I couldn't even feel my legs at that point.
I knew that I had to use everything I had left
to represent her fairly
and -- and to give her the effort that she deserved.
When I finished my races, I really just felt sad.
I felt upset when I thought about,
even though that I was able to honor and pray for the women,
the same time, it didn't change what happened.
But I knew that I needed to raise awareness.
And the only way to change something that's happening
is to acknowledge it first,
to acknowledge that it's a problem.
♪♪
-And I'm here today because, every day, in this city,
in this land, in this state, in this nation,
our matriarchs are dying, and they're dying of violence
that is based on one thing -- that they are indigenous women
living in a country built on genocide,
with continuing colonization that results
in the historical trauma, where our women are dying.
The voices that should be singing
at every one of our ceremonies,
the hands that should be cooking the food
to serve the next generations, the thoughts and the prayers
that allow for our next generations to continue --
these are the people that we are losing every single day.
As we cry together, as we laugh together,
as we fight fiercely together,
we have determined that this will no longer continue,
and I want to raise my hands to the incredible Debora Juarez,
our councilwoman, our tribal member,
our loved one, who has pushed this to the forefront,
because right now what you have the opportunity to pass
is the very first legislation in the country
with real, measurable outcomes.
We will lead -- not only here in Seattle.
We will lead this state,
and we will show the rest of this country
the way that it should be done
because our voices will not be silent.
We will sing those songs again,
and our women will be present.
-For me, the murdered indigenous women started in my family
in the mid-'60s.
My sister was murdered here
in the city of Seattle with no investigation.
Her body was brought back
to Muckleshoot Indian tribe and buried.
To this day, every day, I think of my sisters,
and she's not the only one in my family
who has been murdered with no investigation.
-I lost one of my good friends in the 1980's.
She never came home to the Muckleshoot reservation.
She left our home in Tacoma, Washington, in the city,
trying to make it home and never made it home.
So that day left an open heart --
left an open hole in my heart forever.
-My Aunt Geraldine Naha Hendrickson
was murdered in downtown Seattle 21 years ago.
-'Cause I come from Yakima. I'll explain this real quick.
We had from the mid-'70s to the early '80s --
we had over 29 women who were murdered on my reservation.
-On a personal note, I would like to say
that I did have a niece who was murdered about five years ago.
So -- So these really do come to our people.
-My goddaughter, Maria Flores, is missing.
We're doing everything we can to find her.
She's a missing child. She's 17.
And it wouldn't matter if she was 40 something.
We would still go through the same process.
We're finding out what doors we can go through
and what doors we need help opening,
such as the FBI, military C.I.D.
It's an interesting process, and I wouldn't wish this on anybody.
-What I wanted was hard-cut legislation that says
and directs SPD to hire and work with Native communities,
Native governments, Native organizations,
when Native women go missing,
actually have someone that has subject-matter expertise,
data analysis, and works with Native American organizations,
where their only job is to serve Native people.
And that's what we did.
-Any of the councilmembers like to say a few words, or...?
I think, in this situation, the power of our silence
means how much we support you
and what you've brought to us and -- and the community.
So I think we should have --
Our silence is powerful in this --
and I've never seen this before, so thank you.
Okay, let's vote.
[Voice breaking] Those...
Those in favor...
[ Sobbing quietly ]
♪♪
Those in favor of adopting the resolution, please vote "aye."
-Aye. -Aye.
-Those opposed, vote "no."
[ Clears throat ]
The motion carries.
The resolution is adopted.
[ Cheers and applause ]
♪♪
-We're going to provide resources.
We're gonna show our commitment --
not only our civic commitment,
but a moral commitment and responsibility
that when Native women go missing, we go look for them.
-I have Native women in my life who need change to happen,
I have Native girls in my life
that are depending on this change to happen.
The paint catches your attention.
And that's all we need at times, is to just catch your attention,
to just listen for a second, to just look at me for a second
so that I can tell you what's going on.
♪♪
You know, running with the paint changed my life.
It was really powerful,
and it really did change my perspective on running.
And it changed running for me forever.
♪♪
-The missing and murdered indigenous peoples crisis
is an issue that I hold close to my heart
and have made a priority,
even before I was elected to serve in Congress.
♪♪
-[ Chanting in Native language ]
♪♪
-Hello, My name is Rosalie Fish,
and I'm from the Muckleshoot tribe.
[ Chanting continues ]
♪♪