An Open Letter on the Trans Day of Remembrance

Yesterday was the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance. This is a day to honour the memory of the many transgender, non-binary, two spirit, and gender diverse individuals whose lives were lost due to transphobic violence.

TDOR started in 1999 with trans advocate Gwendolyn Ann Smith hosting a vigil to honour the memory of Rita Hester, a trans woman murdered in 1998. The vigil commemorated all the transgender deaths since Rita’s death and started what has now become the Transgender Day of Remembrance. Gwendolyn states:

“[The] Transgender Day of Remembrance seeks to highlight the losses we face due to anti-transgender bigotry and violence. I am no stranger to the need to fight for our rights, and the right to simply exist is first and foremost. With so many seeking to erase transgender people — sometimes in the most brutal ways possible — it is vitally important that those we lose are remembered, and that we continue to fight for justice.”

During this year’s reporting period, there were 392 trans and gender-diverse people lost due to transphobia in 42 countries, including 122 individuals located in North America, and 7 in Canada. The age range of victims is from as young as 11 to as old as 75.

Hearing these statistics hurts. Understanding the realities of anti-trans violence is painful. We don’t want to read the stories. We don’t want to have to hear the names every year. Yet we do.

Trans and gender diverse people often feel pressured to participate in or lead Transgender Day of Remembrance vigils. The onus becomes placed on us to plan events that honour our fallen trans siblings, to teach cis people how to be better, and to acknowledge the realities of anti-trans, colonial, and gender-based violence. Despite the extreme emotional labour that it takes, we agree. We continue to do so.

Why?

Because, in the back of our minds, we know that one year our name may be on those slides, read out at vigils around the world. We know that the strict enforcement of the gender binary has violent consequences for trans individuals, particularly racialized transfeminine and non-conforming folks. And just as we would want people to plan vigil ceremonies that recognize us, we do so to recognize our trans siblings.

More than that, we recognize their true names – not the incorrect names that the trans victims of homicide are often called by the media, police, and legal system. We recognize that trans victims of suicide lose hope after facing countless issues of discrimination and oppression, in fighting a system that is so rooted within the gender binary and colonization. We recognize that trans people who have been lost to anti-trans hate in all its forms are more than the last moments of their lives – that their stories deserve to be told, too. 

So cisgender people – it is important for you to understand that those of us in the trans community feel the weight of TDOR differently, more intensely. And, though it might seem odd, I encourage you to show up for your trans loved ones just as you would if they were attending a funeral of a loved one. Because in many ways, that is what TDOR is – a funeral for the trans family we have lost. So, check in with your trans friends, coworkers, students, and family. Let them know you are there for them. And show up in ways that are meaningful for them (ask!) – maybe that means bringing them their favourite drink, distracting them by taking them out to a movie, or just being a listening ear and a safe space for them to process their emotions. Show up.

And for those in the trans community, please know that I love and I see you. I hold your pain and share it, on this day of grief and fear. I also hold the different ways that we each engage with the Trans Day of Remembrance. Some of us have the capacity to plan and host vigils. Some of us are willing to increase our visibility to challenge anti-trans hate, despite the risks. Some prefer to recognize TDOR in different ways that are meaningful to them – maybe alone, or with their chosen family. However you have chosen to acknowledge this day, please know that you are valid. 

And for cisgender people, I understand the temptation to draw away, to ignore the pain and the stories. Some people may feel it is counterproductive, or that it’s too depressing, or that they must numb themselves in order to be able to act. 

I do not agree. I believe that the stories of the victims of violence – those told and yet untold – those in the past, present, and future – are the fuel for the fire we need to dismantle these oppressive systems that perpetuate violence. We can draw strength from their stories, courage from their authenticity, and hope for a better tomorrow.

So feel those feelings. Sit in that discomfort. As activist and writer Andy states: “Love them and mourn them and let them matter to you. Let this mean something to you. Just for a minute, don’t protect yourself from it. Let yourself really feel in your body that every single one of these [transgender victims] is a person, in exactly the same way that everyone you love is a person, that you’re a person, and that they deserve to be mourned the way you’d mourn them if they were your beloved.”

And so, we grieve. We say their names. We share their stories. We hold space for one another, for our grief, for our sadness, and for our anger.

But the Trans Day of Remembrance is more than a vigil. It must be a call to action. I hope that one day, we do not need a Trans Day of Remembrance, and it can instead be a Trans Day of Celebration – where we can celebrate the beautiful diversity of gender and different ways of expression. I hope that one day, the violence that plagues us becomes obsolete. I hope that one day, everyone is able to live as their true selves, freely and safely. 

I hope that Andy’s letter, To Our Beloved Transgender Descendants, becomes a reality.