Lena Zhang Harrap
By Aoife Broad
On the 17th of September, Sabina Nessa, a primary school teacher, was killed as she walked through a London park.
On the 25th of May, 2020, George Floyd was murdered by a serving police officer, who knelt on his neck for over nine minutes.
In March, Sarah Everard was kidnapped, raped, and killed by a serving London police officer. He strangled and set fire to Everard, dumping her body in Ashford, Kent – almost 100 kilometers southeast of London.
Grace Millane has been a household name in New Zealand since 2018; when the British backpacker was raped, strangled, and killed by her Tinder date.
In the United States alone, there were 21,500 murders in 2020.
We know these people: because we’ve read about them, heard about them, and seen their faces plastered across the media and our Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and TikTok feeds.
What you may or may not have heard about is that on September 22nd in New Zealand, a young woman, Lena Zhang Harrap, was murdered on her morning walk through her favorite park. A man (name suppressed) was arrested and charged with her sexual violation and murder on the 24th of September.
Less importantly, but crucially to this story - is the fact that Lena had Down Syndrome.
In tribute, Lena was described as “having an infectious smile,” being friendly and enthusiastic, and pursuing her independence. The people who feel her loss most significantly, of course, are her family, who grieve for their daughter in private.
If I’m honest, I thought I would hear and see the same outpouring of grief for Lena that I observed for these others mentioned above. The hushed conversations in the office, awkward mentions over drinks, the attention from local (if not international) media. I thought there would be more than a brief acknowledgment of her murder, of her life, than on the 6 pm news.
When you think about it, most of the people who have been murdered that we, as a collective, know about are women. Specifically, they are non-disabled, white women.
In 2014, the late American news anchor Gwen Ifill coined the term 'Missing White Woman Syndrome', after noticing that media coverage of missing white women was substantially higher than that given to missing women of color, or women of lower social class. Notice the omission of disability here, the implication of “non-disabled” in Ifill’s terminology.
In part, Ifill’s term is why I am so conscious of sharing the specifics of who Lena was. Her love of dance, her friendly and kind nature… All too often, reporting on disability results in the loss of someone’s individuality. Unique identities are folded into labels “special needs,” or “differently-abled.” Humanity becomes linguistically secondary to “disabledness;” which rather than being a part of someone’s identity— dominates it. If you have seen a report of someone with a disability’s death, how often has the headline read as some variation of “Disabled [Person] Killed?”
While people are upset and angry about Lena’s case, it hasn’t been co-opted by the general public. It hasn’t received the same news coverage or social awareness as the plight of the people named earlier in this piece.
Why are we more outraged at some cases than others? Subconsciously, I think we already know the answer. The murdered people we give the most social currency to in death are those who are perceived as having the most social value in life. Those who are relatable. Those who are non-disabled, those who are young, and who are conventionally beautiful. Theirs are the deaths we care about, that we grieve for as a public.
Consider the below cases, all involving disabled people in New Zealand:
In 2016, Ruby Knox was drugged and murdered by her mother.
In 2015, Bruce Rangitutia was starved to death by his own family.
Also in 2015, 5-year-old Leon Jayet-Cole was beaten to death by his step-father.
These stories made local headlines, but considerably less “noise” than Lena’s death. They certainly didn’t receive any international attention. They’re unimaginable crimes, but they’re a reality. Lena’s murder, while on her way home, is one I can imagine as a non-disabled person. Someone simply walking home… Lena could be me, or one of my loved ones.
Lena’s murder was public, and justifiably her epitaph is inscribed with public rage. The reality, however, is that many disabled people who are murdered are killed in their own homes, by caregivers or others close to them, killed in the name of “love,” or “mercy.”
In Ruby's case, her mother’s (i.e. her murderer’s) lawyer claimed that caring for her daughter had been “a life sentence” in and of itself. It was emphasized that her mother loved her and that it had been a “mercy” killing. Even the justice system treats those who harm disabled people with sympathy, so long as their actions came from a place of “love.”
Ruby’s murderer received a four-year sentence.
The two whānau (family) members who starved Bruce to death, received a little over six years and four years respectively.
Leon’s murderer died before he could stand trial.
These sentences, for murder, are incredibly lenient. And they’re not a phenomenon limited solely to Aotearoa (New Zealand).
Looking back to the victims at this article’s beginning:
Sabina’s killer is awaiting sentencing.
George’s murderer was sentenced to twenty-two years and six months in jail.
Sarah’s murderer was sentenced to life imprisonment.
Grace’s murderer was sentenced to at least seventeen years imprisonment without parole.
Although there are differences between these cases, there are also harrowing differences in the sentences each murderer received. None of these people deserved to die, but their killers seem to be facing different outcomes.
Simply put, it’s clear that murderers of disabled people receive lenient sentences and comparative sympathy from the judicial system.
Lena’s accused murderer has appeared in court in New Zealand. If he is found guilty and sentenced, I’ll be keeping an eye on the proceedings. Can we expect to see life imprisonment? Or another measly four-year sentence? Only time will tell...
As a country, as a world - we need to change the way that we talk, think, and report on disabled peoples’ lives, people who are often presented by the excluder “the disabled,” as opposed to simply people, people who have something important to add to their communities by virtue of being who they are. Ableism in New Zealand and the wider world not only contributed towards Lena’s death, but also continues to cause less “relatable” deaths to go unseen, unheard of.
It should be safe for people, regardless of their disability status, to move through life without fear of being killed. All of these deaths mentioned were preventable. Let’s not continue to do a disservice to peoples’ memories by cherry-picking whose stories to tell.
Rest in love, Lena.
Aoife Broad is a crappy vegetarian and artist based in Wellington, NZ. Follow her on Instagram @aoifebroad.