Indigenous women in this country are more likely than any other group to be raped or murdered. The salt in this gaping wound is they are also least likely to see justice. These are very passive terms, but there are no others, because the amount of data available about violent crimes against indigenous women is dwarfed in comparison to those of other groups. Last year, there were 5,646 Native American women entered into the National Crime Information Centre (NCIC) as missing. As of June 2018, there had been 2,758 reported missing. Many of their families have claimed no one bothered to investigate.
The jurisdictional issues surrounding cases occurring on reservations is a giant knot of Christmas lights; difficult to unravel, involving federal, state, and tribal law. It can sometimes be unclear to investigating bodies exactly who should be looking for answers. These cases become stillborn while law enforcement plays jurisdictional musical chairs—trails go cold, witnesses disappear, or develop amnesia, evidence is eroded. These women are not likely to be found, nor are their cases likely to be prosecuted. The disappearance of Ashley Loring HeavyRunner is a chilling example. She went missing from the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana in June of 2017. Her sister begged for help from the Indian Bureau of Affairs, and the FBI did not investigate until March of 2018, nine months later.
Despite the fact tribes on the reservations are guaranteed self-government by the Constitution, the more serious crimes fall under the jurisdiction of the FBI. The FBI is not obligated to notify them if a member of their tribe is reported missing or murdered. On top of that, the crimes do fall under tribal jurisdiction are placed in the hands of a woefully understaffed force. “A lot of times it doesn’t go beyond the missing persons report,” said Marita Growing Thunder, a 19-year-old murdered and missing indigenous women (MMIW) activist.
In fact, the work being done to preserve information about murdered and missing indigenous women is being performed in large part by private citizens, like Annita Lucceshi, a PhD student at the University of Lethbridge in Southern Alberta. “I realised how difficult it is to get a sense of just how many murdered and missing women there are because it changes constantly and there is so little official information,” Annita told Independent. The database she has compiled goes back a little over a century, and she described her experience with obtaining accurate information to be heavy labor. “The police are not helpful. Typically, I get no response at all. If I do, they say they don’t collect the data, or that they won’t be able to pull that information.”
It gets worse. In preparation for his film Wind River, director Taylor Sheridan paid a handful of lawyers to compile a statistic regarding murdered and missing indigenous women. After three months, they came back empty-handed, but had learned some disturbing facts along the way. As recently as 2013, sexual assault of a Native woman by a non-Native could not be prosecuted because it was a state crime on federal land. Natives accused of crimes against non-Natives can be prosecuted twice, by the federal government and by tribal police. This was rectified when the Violence Against Women Act gave criminal jurisdiction over non-indigenous people who commit sexual violence against Native American women.
In 2015, the Department of Justice announced they were developing the Tribal Access Program for National Crime Information (TAP) so tribes can enter and view information in the federal NCIC database, thereby streamlining muddled communications between investigating bodies. Ten tribes were selected for the beta-test of this new system, but as of 2016, some had not received their TAP terminals. Once again, the wheels of justice turn at a glacial pace for missing and murdered indigenous women.
Carie McMichael is the Communication and Media Specialist for Lauth Investigations International, a private investigation firm based in Indianapolis, Indiana–delivering proactive and diligent solutions for over 30 years. For more information, please visit our website.
In Western media coverage, she’s denoted as “the Chinese Angelina Jolie,” with an adoring fan-base that knows no borders. Last year, there were only four other actresses in the world who made more money per project than she. She’s considered one of the most influential public figures in China, who is also speculated to be an enemy of their government. Her name is Fan BingBing, and she has not been seen in public since June of 2018.
Western filmgoers will recognize her from popular film franchises from the Marvel Studios universe, such as X-Men: Days of Future Past in which she portrayed Blink, a portal-jumping mutant who made an impression on American audiences. But on the other side of the world, Fan Bingbing had been cultivating a celebrity image since her teen years, starring in Chinese film and television. In 2017, TIME Magazine placed her on their list of 100 Most Influential People. She’s also slated to star alongside Jessica Chastain in an upcoming Western spy thriller called 355. There’s just one problem: No one can find her.
No one has laid eyes on Fan since June, and the last public statement made by the actress came from a social media platform akin to Twitter—her Weibo account. A comment in a Chinese securities newspaper following that post said Fan Bingbing had been “placed under control and will accept legal judgement.” The article was not on the website long. It was taken down, and its existence scrubbed from the site and all the site’s social media.
Fan BingBing’s disappearance has created a conversation in the Western world about how a Chinese national’s involvement with the American entertainment industry can make them an enemy of the socialist state. One of the widely-propagated stories about the actress’s disappearance is that she is flying under the radar amid accusations of tax-evasion. But how exactly does someone, whose fame is equated to that of Angelina Jolie, manage to disappear completely from public life? Many theorize that the answer lies within the Chinese government.
China’s film industry is heavily regulated by the government, as they consider the industry to have a direct effect on its people and their morals. “The entire entertainment industry, and its rise and fall are determined by the politics, ideology, and the likes and dislikes of [China’s] leaders. This has become more obvious in recent years,” said Qiao Mu, an independent political and media analyst based in Washington, DC. Just recently, the film Crazy Rich Asians was denied release in China, with officials citing the film’s glorification of “money worship” and the negative effect it would have on the country’s youth. Consequently, if film is believed to heavily influence the public, so do the actors involved. According to Stanley Rosen, a professor at the University of Southern California who studies the Chinese film industry, control is key for the government, ““The basic point is to intimidate celebrities with large followings so that they are not too independent and serve as an alternative voice on issues of public import.”
If Fan Bingbing is indeed guilty of tax-evasion, it’s no mystery why the Chinese government would be interested in her whereabouts; however, there are many who believe her disappearance has nothing to do with tax-evasion, and that Fan Bingbing is likely in the confines of what is known as a “black jail.” Peter Dahlin, a Swedish human rights attorney who was detained for almost a month in a black jail in 2016, was quoted in TIME, “The world has never known the numbers of disappearances that we see today in China.” TIME also reported that national security and local law enforcement are now authorized to detain individuals at undisclosed locations for a period of up to six months. This is a familiar scenario to those familiar with the work of Chinese artist and activist, Ai Weiwei, who was also detained for three months by government officials. His supposed crime? Tax-evasion.
Just as supporters turned out for Ai Weiwei when he disappeared in 2011, Fan Bingbing’s droves of adoring fans continue to cry out for answers. Last Sunday, a birthday hashtag for Fan reached an audience of 64 million, a testament to her continued influence and impact throughout the globe. It was reposted more than 30,000 times, bearing a message of hope from her beloved fans, “We will wait for you.”
Carie McMichael is the Communication and Media Specialist for Lauth Investigations International, a private investigation firm based in Indianapolis, Indiana–delivering proactive and diligent solutions for over 30 years. For more information, please visit our website.
Elaine Park went missing on January 28, 2017 in Calabasas, Calif.
It’s every parent’s worst fear their child may be harmed while venturing into the world on their own. But, what parent could imagine “not knowing” where her only child is for nearly two years. That is the nightmare, Susan Park, the mother of missing actress Elaine Park is living.
Elaine Park, now 22, vanished on January 28, 2017, after she was last seen leaving her boyfriend’s home in Calabasas, Calif.
Her unlocked charcoal-gray 2015 Honda Civic was found at Corral Beach in Malibu, parked on the shoulder of Pacific Coast Highway, with keys still in the ignition. Inside the car was her cell phone, backpack and a laptop inside, makeup, and money.
Prior to her disappearance, Elaine looked forward to attending Los Angeles Pierce College and continuing to pursue her acting career. She loved performing in dance companies and musical theater. She had already appeared in small parts on E.R., Mad TV, Desperate Housewives, Crazy Stupid Love and Role Models.
The night Elaine went missing, her boyfriend Divine “Div” Compere told police he and Elaine had gone to a movie and returned home by Uber at approximately 1 a.m. that evening. His story was later confirmed on surveillance camera.
Div Compere is the son of Hollywood businessman Shakim Compere who co-owns Flavor Unit Entertainment with Queen Latifah.
Compere also told authorities that Elaine abruptly woke up at about 4 a.m., shaking and singing which he said was probably due to a panic attack. Surveillance captures Elaine walking to her car two hours later at 6 a.m., not appearing distressed. Then the camera shows Elaine’s vehicle leaving the Compere Compound, a large secured property near the 2600 block of Delphine Lane in the rugged Coldwater Canyon of Calabasas, Calif.
Elaine Park’s vehicle was found along the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu
A resident of La Crescenta, a good 30-minute drive northeast of Cold Water Canyon to her home, Elaine’s car was found 20-minutes southwest at a Corral Canyon Beach pull out.
Police conducted an intensive ground search of the area with canines but found nothing. No information has surfaced to explain why Elaine would have driven in this direction.
Corral Canyon Beach along the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu Calif.)
“It’s suspicious in the way that we found her car, her cell phone and things, in the manner we did,” Glendale Police Sgt., Robert William told Dateline. “We can’t rule foul play in or out because plain and simple, we don’t have any evidence to do so.”
Elaine Park’s gray Honda Civic founded unattended alongside Pacific Coast Highway SR 1.
Days and months have passed with no sign of Elaine. Now, nearly two years without her daughter, “As days go by, my hope finding her gets cloudy and losing hope,” says Susan Park. “It is very difficult to be in the same house with her shadow lingering with her laughter and my visual memories.”
Park has worked tirelessly to remind the public her daughter is missing, raising reward money and working with private investigators.
To date, Park is uncertain if investigating agency Glendale Police Department has et to “unlock” Elaine’s cell phone. The private investigator initially hired is no longer working the case.
Though Compere was ruled out as a suspect early on, Park is not satisfied that he has no knowledge of her daughter’s disappearance as he stated to detectives.
In a saddened tone and only the heartbreak a mother of a missing person would know, “There are no new developments except the $140K reward has been extended until the end of this year,” said Park.
Indigenous women in this country are more likely than any other group to be raped or murdered. The salt in this gaping wound is they are also least likely to see justice. These are very passive terms, but there are no others, because the amount of data available about violent crimes against indigenous women is dwarfed in comparison to those of other groups. Last year, there were 5,646 Native American women entered into the National Crime Information Centre (NCIC) as missing. As of June 2018, there had been 2,758 reported missing. Many of their families have claimed no one bothered to investigate. 
In fact, the work being done to preserve information about murdered and missing indigenous women is being performed in large part by private citizens, like Annita Lucceshi, a PhD student at the University of Lethbridge in Southern Alberta. “I realised how difficult it is to get a sense of just how many murdered and missing women there are because it changes constantly and there is so little official information,” Annita told Independent. The database she has compiled goes back a little over a century, and she described her experience with obtaining accurate information to be heavy labor. “The police are not helpful. Typically, I get no response at all. If I do, they say they don’t collect the data, or that they won’t be able to pull that information.” 
In 2015, the Department of Justice announced they were developing the Tribal Access Program for National Crime Information (TAP) so tribes can enter and view information in the federal NCIC database, thereby streamlining muddled communications between investigating bodies. Ten tribes were selected for the beta-test of this new system, but as of 2016, some had not received their TAP terminals. Once again, the wheels of justice turn at a glacial pace for missing and murdered indigenous women.
China’s film industry is heavily regulated by the government, as they consider the industry to have a direct effect on its people and their morals. “The entire entertainment industry, and its rise and fall are determined by the politics, ideology, and the likes and dislikes of [China’s] leaders. This has become more obvious in recent years,” said 
If Fan Bingbing is indeed guilty of tax-evasion, it’s no mystery why the Chinese government would be interested in her whereabouts; however, there are many who believe her disappearance has nothing to do with tax-evasion, and that Fan Bingbing is likely in the confines of what is known as a “black jail.” Peter Dahlin, a Swedish human rights attorney who was detained for almost a month in a black jail in 2016, was quoted in 
