By Kristin Crawford

The Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls and Red Dress Day is a cause close to my heart. I am fortunate enough to not know anyone personally, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen to me, a family member, or friend. The past couple of years, I have made a point to wear red on May 5th in solidarity for no more stolen sisters. This year posed a bit of a challenge as I was going to be outside of Turtle Island.

I had the crazy notion of flying to London, England, to witness the coronation celebrations of King Charles the Third. Recently, I had read a book about the Queen’s coronation back in 1953 and it got me thinking what it would be like to be over there experiencing it. Next thing I knew, I had a plane ticket and AirBNB booked.

Although I am a quarter Cree from my maternal grandmother, my maternal grandfather has ancestors from the UK (one was even executed at the Tower of London back in 1536). I have grown up following the monarchy, a bit of a juxtaposition to balance the two sides.

I realized that I wouldn’t be in Canada to wear my red dress, but I still wanted to mark the day.

The internal debate raged in my head, is there a point where no one will get it? To them I’m just another woman in a red dress, they don’t even realize I’m Indigenous. Case in point, I hadn’t even left Heathrow airport when someone assumed I was Latina and started speaking to me in Spanish. Having studied Spanish in school I speak some, but have forgotten a lot. This is not the first time this has happened to me either, in New York City, fresh off the bus and people have made incorrect assumptions about me.

I had decided to go for it anyway because it felt right in my heart. Admittedly, the dresses I have are more burgundy than proper red and so I told myself if I am going to do this it would need to be a proper one. So, I went shopping and found a new one with my little sister.

As we were on the double-decker bus, enjoying scones and high-tea, a friend of mine who lives in London messages me asking where I am because King Charles, and the Wales Will and Kate are greeting the crowds outside Buckingham Palace. People were camping out way in advance for the procession on Saturday, we had seen people on the tube (subway) bringing their gear to set up. We couldn’t get off the bus and decided to carry on with our plans. It would have been neat to talk to the new Princess of Wales Kate about my red dress. Or to talk to her about how the day honours and brings awareness to the thousands of Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirit people who have been subject to disproportionate violence in Canada. I would tell her about how MMIWG2S+ is a human rights crisis of gender-based and racialized violence in Canada. I would also mention that while Indigenous women account for less than 5 per cent of the Canadian population, they make up 24 per cent of female homicide victims. While I did not have the opportunity to talk to her, I did; however, at Kensington Palace, walk around the room where Queen Victoria was born in my red dress. She has been seen as a symbol of colonialism.

In retrospect, I probably should have packed a MMIWG button, but I still feel good about my choice to wear the dress because I was being true to my beliefs, even if it was subtle and wasn’t being broadcast loudly to those around me. I will keep wearing my red dress every May 5th no matter what part of the world I’m in.