It’s nearly impossible to turn on any cable or network news or log on any social media platform without seeing a parade of talking heads and amateur true-crime detectives wringing their hands about the heart-wrenching story ofGabrielle “Gabby” Petito’s disappearance and demise.
Petito, 22, vanished while on a cross-country excursion with her fiance, Brian Laundrie, 23.
Police have described Laundrie, who has now disappeared himself, as “a person of interest” in what is now a homicide case.
As the public outcry and breathless media updates continue to swell, Petito has become “America’sdaughter.” She was young, vibrant, and had a significant social media following because of her bubbly personality. She was petite, attractive, and blonde.
She was also white.
We’ve been here before – too many times. Tens of thousands of individuals – Black, Latino, Asian, Indigenous, LGBTQ, young, old, men, and boys – go missing every year. Some return to their families, some remain unaccounted for, and, unfortunately, some end up dead. But very few receive the national spotlight that seems reserved for white women and white girls.
These names immediately come to mind: Laci Parkerson, Elizabeth Smart, and Natalee Holloway. Names that are ingrained in our minds forever: Household names.
What are their names, exactly?
According to the Black and Missing Foundation, a nonprofit organization that raises awareness about missing people of color across the country, there were 543,018 individuals reported missing last year. Nearly 40% of them are people of color.
What are their names, exactly?
In Wyoming, where Petito’s body was found, at least 710 Indigenous people, mostly women, and girls went missing from 2011 to 2020, according to a report by Wyoming’s Missing and Murdered Indigenous Persons Task Force.
Were their names revealed?
There’s a glaring disparity of news coverage and a systemic bias that has been discussed – and repudiated – for decades. It is absurd to believe that it is too late to bring this to light. Now is precisely the time.
I am often ashamed that I get lumped in with “the media,” especially during instances like this. Because many Americans don’t differentiate in their news sources, I feel compelled to say that we must improve. Our newsrooms must reflect the complexion of America, and we must raise reporting standards to see beyond the latest intriguing whodunit.
All missing people deserve attention.
No one is dismissing the circumstances surrounding the death of Petito, and no one is minimizing the pain the Petito family has endured. Like many Americans, I am outraged, too, particularly by what appears in bodycam footage to be a significant bungling by law enforcement when they encountered Petito and Laundrie in Utah.
But it’s OK to want justice for Petito while still acknowledging that “missing white woman syndrome,” a term coined by the late journalist Gwen Ifill, is also an absolute travesty.
Ultimately, this isn’t solely about race – it’s about people. Many people are missing: Mother and fathers, daughters and sons. Brothers and sisters. Friends and neighbors. They aren’t all beautiful and blonde. They don’t have many social media followers. Their families are worthy of America’s compassion and news coverage; their stories are just as important. These people want their loved ones to be safe. They need answers. They are also entitled to closure.
National columnist/deputy opinion editor Suzette Hackney is a member of USA TODAY’S Editorial Board. Contact her at [email protected] or on Twitter: @suzyscribe
