By Brenda Johnson
On January 27, 2025, Emily Pike, a 14-year-old Indigenous girl from the San Carlos Apache Tribe, went missing after leaving her group home in Mesa, Arizona. Her family and community searched desperately, their cries for help met with indifference from the media and law enforcement. For two weeks, they pleaded for answers.
Then, on February 14, her dismembered body was discovered in contractor trash bags along Highway 60. Her arms and hands were missing. The gruesome way she was murdered should have sparked national outrage, but it didn’t. The world barely noticed.
Emily was not just another statistic. She was a child, a daughter, a member of a community that loved her. And yet, her disappearance and brutal death were met with silence.
Her story is part of a horrifying, ongoing crisis.
The Crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women
Emily’s murder is not an isolated tragedy—it is part of a larger pattern of violence against Indigenous, Black, and Brown women. According to the National Crime Information Center, 5,712 Indigenous women and girls were reported missing in 2016. Yet, only 116 of those cases were recorded in the U.S. Department of Justice’s missing persons database. This stark disparity reflects how the government and law enforcement systematically fail Indigenous victims.
A study by the Urban Indian Health Institute identified 506 cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women across 71 cities in the U.S. Of these, 128 were missing persons cases, 280 were homicides, and 98 remained classified as unknown. Alarmingly, 75% of these cases had no documented tribal affiliation, further demonstrating the neglect these communities face.
The statistics are grim: Indigenous women are murdered at a rate 10 times higher than the national average. They disappear, are assaulted, are brutalized—and yet, their cases are rarely solved. The families left behind are forced to fight for justice alone, screaming into a void that refuses to listen.
The Media’s Role in Erasing Black and Brown Girls
Emily’s murder should have been national news. The horrific details of her dismemberment should have dominated headlines. Instead, her case barely made a ripple outside of Indigenous news networks and social media posts.
This is not new. This is a well-documented phenomenon known as Missing White Woman Syndrome—where the disappearances of white women and girls are treated as national emergencies, while Black, Brown, and Indigenous women are ignored. Studies have found that cases involving white victims receive significantly more media coverage than those involving people of color.
A 2010 study found that missing Black children were underrepresented in national news coverage compared to white children. In another analysis, only 18% of cases involving missing Black girls received any media coverage at all. Meanwhile, cases involving white girls received extensive reporting, sparking national and even international searches.
The media plays a direct role in determining which lives are worth fighting for. And over and over again, Black and Brown lives are deemed unworthy.
A System That Refuses to Protect Us
It is not just the media that fails us—law enforcement does too.
When Indigenous, Black, and Brown girls go missing, their cases are often dismissed as runaways. Police departments drag their feet, assuming these children are troubled rather than endangered. Reports get filed late. Investigations move slowly—if they move at all.
Even when remains are found, justice is rarely served. Between 2005 and 2009, U.S. Attorneys declined to prosecute 67% of sexual abuse and related cases referred from Indian Country. That means more than half of these crimes—many of which involved children—went unpunished.
Emily was found in pieces. The person who did this to her is still out there. The system has already shown it will not fight for her, just as it has failed so many before her.
Fighting for Justice
Despite the indifference of law enforcement and the media, Indigenous communities have never stopped fighting. Activists, grassroots organizations, and families of missing and murdered women have been the loudest voices demanding justice.
Some states are beginning to respond. In Washington State, the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women’s Alert System was launched in 2022, functioning like an Amber Alert for Indigenous women. This system is a step forward, but it is not enough.
We need national policy changes. We need fully funded investigations into the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women. We need mandatory data collection on these cases, so they do not continue to disappear from official records. We need better coordination between tribal, state, and federal law enforcement agencies.
But most of all, we need people to care.
Say Her Name. Say It Loud. Say It Often.
Emily Pike’s name should not be forgotten.
Her murder should not be a footnote in history.
She was 14 years old. A child. A girl who deserved to grow up, to chase her dreams, to be safe. But instead, she was brutalized and discarded like she did not matter.
But she did.
We must say her name. We must tell her story. We must demand justice—not just for Emily, but for every Black, Brown, and Indigenous girl who has been erased, ignored, or left behind.
Emily Pike.
Say her name. Say it loud. Say it often. And never let the world forget.
Brenda Emilia Arroyo Johnson
