Trans Day of Remembrance: Honouring the lives lost to queer and trans hate
Rishi Mittal (any/all) // Crew Writer
KC Stringer (he/him) // Contributing Illustrator
November 20 is Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR), a day to honour the lives of trans people who’ve been killed by violence and hate. It was started in 1999 as a vigil by Gwendolyn Ann Smith to remember the life of Rita Hester, a trans woman from Chicago, Massachusetts.
Smith remembered the very similar death of Chanelle Pickett three years earlier. As Huffpost notes, “both were transgender women of color who lived in Massachusetts, were last seen alive at a neighborhood club and died in mid-November.” Yet, as Smith told NBC news, the murder of Pickett “had already […] been forgotten, and here we were with another.”
In response, to prevent trans lives from being forgotten one death at a time, Smith created the Remembering Our Dead Project, which kept a list of all trans people who had been killed. In the spring of 1999, Smith led a candlelight vigil with a group of 100 activists. Smith gave a speech in memory of those who had died during the filming of a documentary about the murder of Brandon Teena, a trans man. In November 1999, she organized the first TDOR.
Since then, TDOR memorials are held every year on November 20 in cities around the world to remember the people lost to anti-trans violence. The gatherings and vigils are mostly, though not always, organized by local queer communities. Last year, Vancouver saw events organized by QMUNITY at the Birdhouse Arts Space. Vancouver Trans March, and the Society for Advocacy for Gender-affirming Healthcare (Sagah), organized at MacLean Park, among others.
B.C., especially in bigger cities, has enjoyed a not entirely unearned historic reputation for being a haven for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. But B.C. is not a political island. Rising queer hate outside its borders, in neighbouring Alberta for example, has created space in the public discourse for a new political and media class that is spurring hate within. By the time you turn these pages, the people of British Columbia may have elected a party that openly platforms on education about sexual orientation and gender identity to be “entirely removed from schools.” Or the people may have re-elected the party that bends to changing political winds and quietly cuts funding for that education, letting it wither and die in silence.
In Vancouver, queer businesses like bars, pubs and nightclubs are shutting down. These are often small, independently-run businesses that are operating on paper-thin margins, and are usually the only places for queer joy. In North Vancouver, queer people are being targeted and attacked. A Member of Legislative Assembly (MLA) in B.C. has compared homosexuality to pedophilia and called for reversing the ban on conversion therapy.
This hate takes its most virulent form when it targets the most marginalized. Following the Tumbler Ridge Shooting in February 2026, a confluence of Canadian far-right news outlets and white nationalist organizations, including online influencers, began a campaign “to instill and foment hatred against” transgender people. None of the claims were new: trans people are “inherently violent” or trans identity is a “mental illness.” But the sheer amount was and remains staggering.
In this climate of anti-queer and anti-trans hate and violence, we turn to history to be our guide.
The way we combat hate today is the way we have combatted hate throughout history; by fighting back and standing together. Community and solidarity, expressed through commemorations like TDOR, remain the way we persevere and thrive. We do not let hate separate us and we do not forget.
Education about TDOR remains little. I spoke to Violet Osborne, the President of the Queer Student Society (QSS) at CapU and the Queer Student Liaison for the Capilano Students’ Union (CSU). According to Osborne, despite the presence of queer and trans history, theory and contemporary issues in their courses, they have “not been directly taught” about TDOR. Thus, the QSS plans to organize a TDOR Candlelight Vigil from Nov. 16 to 20 in the CSU Library Lounge. There will also be an open event in the Lounge on Wednesday, Nov. 18 where they invite people to “make a memorial collage to honour members of the trans community that have passed in recent years.” Osborne hopes it’ll be a “small but meaningful way” to invite the trans community and its allies to come together here at CapU.
Remembering those we have lost during TDOR is more than just about the individual lives lost. It is also a promise made to each other that we will prevent any such deaths in the future. Community, to that end, is key. Osborne hopes the TDOR Vigil is the first of many ways to connect the queer community at CapU.
They have found that the queer community at CapU is generally “pretty low-profile.” As they describe it, “[students] have no idea how to meet others in their community. They don’t know we have a Queer Student Society.” As TDOR demonstrates, community is vital to survival. So, this year, Osborne hopes to connect the queer community to each other and raise its profile among the broader CapU student body in a positive way. Beyond the TDOR Vigil, the QSS wants to have regular meetings and community events where queer students can “meet each other, mingle, connect and share their experiences.”
Osborne also highlights the Queer Resource Centre, located at Birch 313 as “the first thing” every queer student should know about. “Maybe you’re tired and need a nap between your classes, or you want to read a book, do some art or have a snack. This space is for that. It’s just for us to exist and feel safe as ourselves. Because where else on campus can we guarantee that we don’t have to explain or debate our existence?”
As students, how do we remember and honour those lost to hate? How do we prepare for what may come? A strong queer community here at CapU can stand tall, united and firm in the face of the incoming winds. We can bend when needed but never break, lean on each other for support, protect each other’s tenderness, nurture each other’s growth. Students that can commemorate taken lives can carry their memories into the future.
Osborne ends with a powerful message to remember during these times and during TDOR. They say, “With what’s going on in Alberta, and what’s going on below us in the United States, it’s more important than ever for people to understand our community. The queer community, the trans community, our history as well as our present. Our perspectives and our challenges, but also our triumphs and our celebrations and how beautiful it is to be in this community. And that we’re not going anywhere.”