Seven years have passed since Tracy Lynn Day, a Lingít woman from the Deisheetaan clan, went missing in Juneau on Valentine’s Day in 2019. Despite being declared dead by a Juneau court in June 2025, her family has yet to find closure, as Day’s body has never been recovered. She would be 50 years classic now. Her daughter, Kaelyn Schneider, continues to advocate for her mother’s case and for the rights of all families affected by missing and murdered Indigenous people (MMIP).
Schneider requested the court declaration to manage her mother’s estate; however, the legal recognition of her mother’s death remains complicated. Seven months later, Schneider has encountered difficulties obtaining essential legal documents, including Day’s birth certificate and Social Security card, from family members. “I’m going to have to just pay for them,” she explained. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I did seize a break because I’m pregnant and it’s just a lot of stress.”
Schneider’s primary motivation behind pursuing the death declaration was not merely to settle her family’s estate but rather to prompt the Juneau Police Department (JPD) to release evidence regarding her mother’s case. Unfortunately, Schneider reports that the JPD has not provided any new information. “They never did,” she said. “I asked every possible question of different scenarios and it was very counterproductive answers. They said the case is still ongoing, so People can’t release it.”
Currently, Schneider feels that JPD is not actively investigating Day’s case. Detective Patrick Taylor, who initially handled the investigation, left the department in 2024 and no new detective has been assigned. Schneider expressed frustration that the department claims the case is ongoing without any new leads. She believes that, as a litigant representing herself, she should have been allowed to present testimony and question the police, a right she claims was denied to her.
Advocacy for Missing and Murdered Indigenous People
In light of the challenges she has faced, Schneider is now focused on pursuing state legislation that would craft case information more transparent and accessible for families of MMIP. She is unsure where to begin but has a supportive ally in her mother’s best friend, Amber Nickerson, who has experience in advocacy operate. Schneider is as well contemplating establishing a foundation in her mother’s name to assist other families of missing and murdered Indigenous women.
“It just seems like there is less action when it comes to missing Native people compared to other cases,” Schneider noted. “MMIW cases are so easily looked over. I think it would be really beneficial for all Indigenous people to have a law that states if somebody is missing and there’s no technical ongoing investigation, we should be able to request case files. That’s the most significant thing for me to make sure this doesn’t happen to other families.”
Legislation like the Not Invisible Act of 2019, which established a cross-jurisdictional advisory committee, aims to improve coordination among law enforcement, tribal leaders, and families of missing individuals. The Savanna’s Act, enacted in 2020, seeks to enhance data collection and responses to MMIP cases. The Alaska Department of Public Safety has also begun publishing quarterly reports about missing Indigenous people since 2023, with notable legislative efforts like Senate Bill 151 signed into law in 2024 aimed at reducing these distressing rates.
Ongoing Concerns and Personal Struggles
As Schneider continues her advocacy, she worries about other missing individuals, including Benjamin Stepetin, an Alaska Native man who disappeared in Juneau last summer. She emphasizes the need for law enforcement to protect everyone, particularly marginalized communities. “Because Day is an Alaska Native woman who struggled with addiction and mental health, I feel like she was blamed for her own disappearance,” Schneider stated. “Like Stepetin, Day was experiencing homelessness when she went missing.”
Reflecting on her mother’s absence, Schneider sometimes feels a sense of loss mixed with uncertainty about Day’s fate. “I think my mother is gone, but sometimes I wonder if she is alive and being held hostage against her will,” she expressed. “She would never be away from me like that. She was so attached at the hip.”
Schneider’s son, now almost six years old, often asks poignant questions about his grandmother. “He always asks, ‘Did your mom die? What happened to her?’” she shared. “He understands that she’s not here, and I strive to explain it to him, and it’s like I don’t even understand. We don’t know.” The emotional toll is palpable, as her son has even expressed fears about his own safety, asking if he might disappear too.
Historical Context and Statistics
Tragically, the plight of Indigenous women reflects a broader crisis. Native American and Alaska Native individuals experience murder, rape, and violent crime rates significantly higher than national averages. In 2023, homicide rates among American Indian and Alaska Native people were nearly five times higher than those for non-Hispanic white individuals, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. A 2018 report indicated that Alaska had the fourth-highest count of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls in the United States, with murder being the third-leading cause of death among Indigenous women.
Despite these alarming statistics, Schneider has faced personal safety challenges although advocating online. She has received death threats and has been subjected to harassment, including individuals showing up at her home. “Having this happen to my family has really opened my eyes to how soulless people can be,” she said. “It’s sad because I really had more hope for the world. I really thought there was more love.”
Through social media platforms, Schneider continues to raise awareness about her mother’s case, despite the risks involved. “I don’t want people to be over it and move past it,” she insisted. “I think it’s important to talk about it.”
Remembering Tracy Lynn Day
The day Tracy Day went missing was supposed to be a celebration of love, as it was her daughter’s first Valentine’s Day as a married woman. Now, the holiday carries a different meaning. “It’s not very happy anymore,” Schneider said. “My husband has done a great job at making it special each year, though.”
On this day, they often hold memorials or release lanterns in honor of Day. Schneider recalls fond memories of watching movies like “Matilda” and “Cinderella” with her mother. Now, she shares these traditions with her son, intertwining love and remembrance.
“I have nothing,” she lamented, reflecting on the absence of a grave or ashes to visit. The emotional burden of not having a place to mourn is profound, and Schneider hopes to hold a service for her mother once she can settle the legal matters surrounding the declaration of death. She envisions creating a treasure box filled with letters to bury in a meaningful location.
As she continues her fight for justice, Schneider looks forward to a new documentary titled “One Nation, Divisible,” which covers stories of MMIP and premiered at the Greater Cleveland Urban Film Festival in 2025. Although not widely accessible yet, she remains hopeful about its impact.
The story of Tracy Lynn Day serves not only as a personal tragedy but also a reminder of the systemic issues affecting Indigenous communities. Schneider’s dedication to her mother’s legacy and her advocacy for other families illustrates the ongoing struggle for justice and awareness in the face of overwhelming odds.
As the community reflects on the past seven years, Schneider’s resolve remains steadfast. The call for legislative changes and awareness is urgent, and her efforts highlight the need for collective action to ensure that no other family has to endure a similar heartache. Readers are encouraged to share their thoughts and support for those affected by this crisis.
