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One of the stories speaks of Spider Woman, the weaver of life. She spun a web that connected us all to one another, to the animals, the water, the earth and the stars. She taught us to care for one another, to recognize the sacredness of women as life-givers and knowledge keepers. But with the arrival of colonialism, Spider Woman’s web was torn apart strand by strand.

That tearing is not ancient history — it is the present-day crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQ+ people (MMIWG2S+).

For those of us who have been walking this road for decades, there is no mystery about how we got here. Colonialism didn’t just enable this crisis — it created it.

The MMIWG2S+ crisis was born the moment European settlers decided they were entitled to our lands, our resources and our bodies. To justify their theft and violence, they dehumanized Indigenous people. And to break us, they targeted the heart of our communities: the women.

The Grandmothers have always held the teachings. They passed them to us through stories, song, ceremony and our blood lines. They are the ones who taught us how to live in balance. Colonial policies knew this — that’s why they worked so hard to erase Indigenous women from their rightful place as leaders, healers and protectors.

The Indian Act stripped status from women who married outside their nations. Residential schools taught generations of children to despise their mothers and aunties. The Sixties Scoop scattered Indigenous children to non-Indigenous families, far from their languages and their roots. Each act was like a knife slicing through Spider Woman’s web.

And with each generation, the violence escalated. Indigenous women were no longer seen as sacred. We became targets.

The violence was — and is — everywhere. In our homes, in our communities, in towns and cities where our women are trafficked, brutalized and discarded.

Canada’s justice system has done little more than shrug its shoulders. If you don’t see us as human, why would you look for us when we go missing? Why would you investigate when we are found murdered?

The crisis of MMIWG2S+ is not a social issue. It is not a byproduct of poverty or addiction or “risky lifestyles,� as some like to say. It is a direct result of colonialism’s dehumanization of Indigenous women. And Canada has never been serious about undoing the damage.

At Grandmother’s Voice, we sense the pain of families left without answers. We hear the mothers who cry for their daughters. We stand beside the aunties searching for their nieces. We walk in ceremony to honour the lives of women and girls who never made it home. We stand with those who fight to have their stories heard — whether through the Red Dress Movement, the Spirit Walks or vigils in their memory.

When I think of Spider Woman, I think of the web we are trying to reweave today. It’s hard work. Sometimes it feels impossible. But we do it because our grandmothers tell us we must. They remind us that women are sacred, that when we lose one, we lose generations of knowledge. We lose mothers and daughters, teachers and leaders. And when we allow it to happen — when Canada allows it to happen — our entire society is diminished.

Some people ask why we are still so angry, why we hold ceremonies in protest and grief, why we hang red dresses in trees, letting them dance like spirits on the wind — it’s because we refuse to forget. We refuse to let the torn web become the new normal. We are determined to mend what was broken, even if Canada would rather we stay silent.

The MMIWG2S+ crisis began because this country chose to see Indigenous women as less. As property to take. As problems to erase. That belief still lingers. We see it in the headlines. We see it when our women go missing and there’s no search. We see it in the fear in our daughters’ eyes when they walk alone.

But we are still here. Spider Woman’s web is still being woven by those of us who remember who we are. Grandmothers’ Voice is part of that weaving, standing in community with families, advocates and the women who refuse to be silenced.

And we will not stop. Because this is our home. And women are sacred.

This column is the first in a three-part series.