Vanished Meadows
Brooklyn, NY
Spring 2020
Spring 2020
Vanished Meadows examines the lack of media representation and urgency surrounding missing Black women and girls in America. Historically, there has been a clear disparity in how cases involving white children and children of color are treated. This imbalance dates back to the early stages of the missing persons crisis, which gained national attention following the disappearance of a young white boy.
As part of my research, I explored the history of missing children featured on milk cartons and the role media exposure played in recovery efforts. Today, the recovery rate for Black children stands at only 24%, a statistic that reflects disparities in resources, coverage, and public empathy. When considering these realities, I was struck by the understanding that if I were to go missing, the response to my case could differ significantly from that of a white peer.
The milk cartons in this project serve as a visual commentary on the longstanding bias in missing persons coverage in the United States. The women featured on the cartons include myself and several of my peers. The fictional brand name, Vanished Meadows, symbolizes those who have disappeared, while “meadows” evokes spaces that exist across urban, suburban, and rural environments—suggesting that this issue spans all communities.
This project consists of multiple three-dimensional works that reinterpret and subvert the traditional missing person milk carton. The “nutrition facts” panels present statistics related to the crisis, emphasizing the low likelihood of recovery for Black individuals. Currently, Black children are twice as likely to remain missing. This work is both a critique and a call to action.
Although the participants come from different backgrounds, we share a common identity as Black women—an identity that society has repeatedly shown it undervalues. Each carton also features quotes from participants, amplifying voices that are too often overlooked. By including these personal statements, I aim to center the perspectives of those most affected and bring visibility to stories that frequently go unheard.
Ultimately, I hope for a future in which media coverage is equitable, where no life is prioritized over another, and where Black lives are valued universally—not only within our own communities, but by society as a whole.
As part of my research, I explored the history of missing children featured on milk cartons and the role media exposure played in recovery efforts. Today, the recovery rate for Black children stands at only 24%, a statistic that reflects disparities in resources, coverage, and public empathy. When considering these realities, I was struck by the understanding that if I were to go missing, the response to my case could differ significantly from that of a white peer.
The milk cartons in this project serve as a visual commentary on the longstanding bias in missing persons coverage in the United States. The women featured on the cartons include myself and several of my peers. The fictional brand name, Vanished Meadows, symbolizes those who have disappeared, while “meadows” evokes spaces that exist across urban, suburban, and rural environments—suggesting that this issue spans all communities.
This project consists of multiple three-dimensional works that reinterpret and subvert the traditional missing person milk carton. The “nutrition facts” panels present statistics related to the crisis, emphasizing the low likelihood of recovery for Black individuals. Currently, Black children are twice as likely to remain missing. This work is both a critique and a call to action.
Although the participants come from different backgrounds, we share a common identity as Black women—an identity that society has repeatedly shown it undervalues. Each carton also features quotes from participants, amplifying voices that are too often overlooked. By including these personal statements, I aim to center the perspectives of those most affected and bring visibility to stories that frequently go unheard.
Ultimately, I hope for a future in which media coverage is equitable, where no life is prioritized over another, and where Black lives are valued universally—not only within our own communities, but by society as a whole.