Profile: Nayana Lafond
Nayana Lafond, an Indigenous artist from Massachusetts, has painted over 95 portraits of Missing and Murdered Indigenous People (MMIP). While other artists may celebrate having painted nearly a hundred pieces, the fact that most of her subjects were mostly Indigenous women or girls who have either gone missing or have been murdered does not weigh lightly on Lafond.
“It’s a burden but one that I'm grateful for in an odd way,” she said.
At 42, with straight dark brown hair just past her shoulders and rectangle spectacles, Lafond did not ever expect that she would spend most of her days painting portraits of people who have gone missing or have been murdered. While the world is slowly starting to learn more about the crisis through headlines, Indigenous communities have been dealing with the effects of missing and or murdered members for centuries. Indigenous women, girls, those part of the LGBTQ+ community are most vulnerable to this fate. According to the U.S. Department of Interior, Indigenous women are ten times more likely than any other group across the country to go missing or be murdered.
As of 2016, the National Crime Information Center (NCIC) recorded 5,712 cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women, however, advocates say the figure is probably higher, as there is currently no central federal database that consistently collects figures about this. Currently, only 12 out of the 50 states collect data on disappearances, and this data is not comprehensive. More often than not, Indigenous communities are left to advocate for this issue themselves.
For Lafond, the call to paint these portraits came almost three years ago, on the National Day of Awareness for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, in an unexpected way.
On May 5th, 2020, as Lafond was scrolling past posts on the Facebook group “Social Distancing Powwow”, she came across a selfie of a woman with a red hand stamped over mouth - a symbol that over the years has become synonymous with the Missing and Murdered Indigenous People crisis. She reached out to the user and asked to paint her portrait. When Lafond shared the final piece on social media, she did not expect to receive thousands of likes and comments praising the piece.
What struck Lafond more than the positive response was opening her inbox that day to find 25 requests from families to paint portraits of loved ones they had lost. Stuck at home at the height of the first Covid-19 lockdown, Lafond read the stories attached of those families had lost, and made the commitment to send every piece sent to her.
“It’s became a personal mission to complete these paintings,” said Lafond.
Every time she shares a finished piece of a portrait painted in black and white with a red hand stamped over the mouth, she receives more requests from families who have lost people to the crisis. Three years later and nearly a hundred portraits in, she said that she has at least twenty requests for more paintings at any moment.
For Lafond, painting these portraits has been a mixed blessing. On one hand, it's painful to paint portraits of those who who are gone, but on the other hand, doing this work has helped her come to terms with her own trauma as a survivor of violence.
Growing up in an area of Massachusetts commonly referred to as the Tofu Curtain - dubbed so to signify the income divide between the wealthier northern part of the state from the historically low-income south - Lafond developed a strong bond with her grandmother, an Indigenous woman who has fostered multiple children throughout her lifetime. She spent her childhood weaving looms and drawing, things she said are integral to her culture. While she said she relatively enjoyed her upbringing, she said she was exposed to a history of violence against her family from a young age.
Lafond's great-grandmother Betsu, was born in Ontario, Canada, and was forced to attend a residential school. At age 13, Betsu was impregnated by a 34 year old man whom she was then forced to marry. Lafond's grandmother, Betsu’s daughter, was placed into the foster care system as a kid until she ran away and reconnected with Betsu when she was a teenager.
The impacts of intergenerational violence that followed, Lafond said, manifested in dark ways for her family members. Lafond's aunt battled addiction for over twenty years. Last year, Lafond unfortunately lost her mother to addiction. Lafond said that she herself has been subject to violence through her interpersonal relationships.
According to the American Psychiatric Association, Indigenous communities experience higher rates of intergenerational trauma because of the history of violence and systematic oppression perpetrated against the community.
For Lafond, the pain and trauma she experienced throughout her life has helped inform an understanding of a slice of what families who have lost loved ones face. For these families, having the portraits of those who are gone plays a role in their healing process. Completing these portraits is Lafond’s way of helping families cope with their loss.
While empathy drives Lafond’s motivation for these paintings, morality plays a role in the way she interacts with families during the process. For her, the most important part of the entire process is maintaining trust with the families, who often share the painful stories of what happened to their loved ones with her. Lafond said that this project has helped her create a special bond with some of the family members throughout the journey.
“I have a lot of family now. It's like a lot of people who call me family now, which is really nice,” said Lafond.
Due to the sensitive nature of the topic, Lafond does not charge families for the portraits as she feels that it would reduce the deep interactions she has with families to mere transactions. She believes that the gravity of the loss families deal with should not be capitalized for profit.
“I don't want the people who've passed on to feel disrespected. That's really important. And I don't think the message would be heard if I was profiting from it,” said Lafond.
With the permission of the families, Lafond attaches stories of their loved ones to each portrait and sends them on tour across the country to be part of various exhibitions. She also makes it a point not to gain any profit featuring these pieces, though she said that she has encountered art dealers who have encouraged her to earn money from this project.
“This isn't about the money. I'm doing this to raise awareness and spark discussion,” said Lafond.
In addition to exhibits, Lafond also advocates these paintings herself. For two years now, she has been painting live portraits on the New York City Highline during the week of Thanksgiving. Last Thanksgiving against the waning purple sunset, she painted Rosalie – a woman who had been murdered 4 years prior and whose perpetrator has yet to be persecuted.
As she paints, Lafond thinks of those who she is painting, of who they were and of who they could be. She said it can get overwhelming at times because it's hard to paint portraits of those who were once here, but said she overcomes it by having a conversation with her portraits.
“I ask those that I’m painting to guide me through the process. I tell them it’s an honor to paint them, and that I don’t want the intensity to stay with me”, said Lafond.
When she finishes the painting, Lafond takes a moment and then smudges the piece with sage, a final step many Indigenous folks do to cleanse a piece, person, or painting and to ward off negative energy.
With every smudge, Lafond said she takes a moment to acknowledge those who have moved into the spirit world. While she primarily paints these portraits for the families, she said she hopes the attention and the awareness paves a way for a better future for communities.
“I am one relatively small voice among many, but I hope that I can continue to contribute this awareness and that collectively we can grow louder, and some sort of real change can happen soon.”
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