Silenced, Not Broken: Shannon vs. the System

What makes you a Beautiful Disaster?

I look for the truth in everything.

Why do you identify with the Beautiful Disaster brand?

Hard turns can mean great things.

Tell Us Your Beautiful Disaster Story

⚠️ Content Warning: This story contains references to domestic violence, drug use, abuse, and systemic misconduct.

My name is Shannon P., and I am a survivor of domestic violence, corruption, and long-term systemic neglect. I have documented injuries, years of trauma, and police reports that somehow vanish into thin air. Nothing has ever been done about it.

I am from Fond du Lac, MN—one of the six bands in the Chippewa Tribe. The reservation has its own police and sheriff's departments, where everyone seems to be connected by blood or friendship. I’ve seen, firsthand, how people lie to protect each other. Reports are altered or disappear. Victims are dismissed, retraumatized—or worse.

I am one of them.

I’ve been in and out of domestic violence shelters across Minnesota and Wisconsin, and I’ve met other women with similar stories—especially those from Fond du Lac. These women are silenced, ignored, or intimidated into submission.

Here’s what happened to me:

In September 2022, I was providing live-in PCA care to a man in hospice. His daughter—a niece of a tribal band member—embezzled more than $100,000 from him while he was in a coma. I reported it. That’s when everything started to spiral.

The man I was in a relationship with—my predator—physically assaulted me and crushed my neck in February 2023. He’s never been arrested.

In October 2022, I called the police about a violent neighbor. They kicked in her door and pulled her out in an ambulance. I yelled that a child was still inside, and then I saw drones rise out of the woods. An officer from the Cloquet Police Department even drew his gun, not knowing what they were. Later, I was told by Chief M.B. that “nothing happened.” I asked for video footage and was denied. Then, strangely, a crisis nurse called me—saying a mental health report had been filed under a different officer’s name. I never called in a crisis. I was confused, and so was the nurse.

In November 2022, I was chased barefoot in the snow with no jacket by my predator, who was wielding a hammer. The sheriff found me and ran my name—but left me in the street. I woke up two days later, soaked and freezing. Again, no report was filed.

In February 2023, I was drugged and dropped off at Black Bear Casino. I interacted with law enforcement multiple times. I begged for help. No medical care was given. Eventually, they told me to walk to a Kwik Trip gas station on a busy highway—on foot, across freeway ramps. I collapsed in the cold, vomiting, crying, frozen to the ground. I remember telling the sheriff I had “dragons coming out of my back.” No one helped me. No ambulance. No hospital.

I later requested all police reports, dashcam and bodycam footage, and casino surveillance. I received one report. That’s it. I was told other records were “missing.” Casino staff said I was not allowed to view any footage. Why? What are they hiding?

On April 16, 2023, my abuser picked me up in Wisconsin and took me to Cloquet. Four days later, he came at me with a box cutter and threatened to throw me in the river. My sister J. arrived and helped get me out. I obtained a 2-year protection order. Still, he was never arrested.

Throughout this time, I called law enforcement dozens of times. Every time I reported stalking, threats, hacking, or theft—nothing happened. They said he couldn’t be found or that I was violating his privacy.

My sobriety date is April 19, 2023. Since then, I’ve lived in multiple shelters. I’ve lost jobs. My neck injury from February 2023 left me unable to work full-time. I had a massive heart attack in November 2024, brought on by stress, while still in shelter.

I specialized in hospice PCA care—helping elders pass peacefully at home. But that work has been taken from me.

I’ve tried again and again to get answers:

• Why is footage always missing?

• Why won't they let me see the tapes?

• Why wasn't I given medical help?

• Why am I treated like I’m the problem?

I’ve contacted tribal leadership. No one responds.

This is not just about me. It’s about every woman who’s been told to shut up, sit down, or go away. It’s about the countless women from Fond du Lac in shelters whose stories are never told.

I plan to file a lawsuit. People need to know what’s happening.

And until justice comes, I will keep telling my story. Because this is not okay.

What happened for you to turn it around?

I’m still looking for the light at the end of my tunnel.

Name 3 things you’ve done to move closer to happiness:

1. I’m working on launching my nonprofit, The Spotted Vine.

2. I got sober.

3. I kept telling my story.

What is your favorite Beautiful Disaster collection, past or present, and why?

Each collection touches me in a different way—so I love them all.