Trans day of (p)remembrance

A short reflection on grieving those we will lose

Photo by Magda Smolen on Unsplash

Trans Day of Remembrance is November 20th each year. The list of names of those we will grieve is being compiled, with 22 of my trans siblings added just last month. I just read a couple of the stories and they are heartbreaking. As always, trans women of color make up the majority of the list.

23 year-old Kamora Woods of Indianapolis was murdered on June 27th. She was found dead by her own mother. The circumstances of her murder are not fully known, but she was found half undressed, and the alleged murderer ID’d by a fingerprint on a condom wrapper. Someone murdering a would-be intimate partner upon finding out that they are trans, going from an act commonly associated with love to the purest form of hate in seconds, is what’s known as “trans panic.” The mother says the young woman was open about being trans, so this could have been about something else. But as always, many trans people, and particularly trans women of color like Kamora, live lives of precarity where they are more vulnerable to violence, even if that violence isn’t explicitly directed at their transness.

There are multiple stories of trans people murdered in what looks like more common and random acts of violence, though of course we can’t be sure. But even in these, we see cruelty - police identifying the victims by their deadnames. In one case, 24 year old Rosa Machuca was one of three victims of a shooting in Austin, Texas. The other were an elderly man and, I am so sorry to have to tell you this: a four year old child. Gun violence is a threat to all. Rosa came out as transgender in 2022, the same year as me. But the political climate in Texas had already begun to turn into one of the most hostile states for trans rights, and so she did not legally change her name. This resulted in the police, of course, referring to her by her deadname in their reports. This is a case where I can imagine someone being like “but they are just using her legal name!” But you cannot say that without also saying that the state of Texas had made it dangerous, then illegal to change her legal name. This is a system that insisted on seeing Rosa for someone other than who she was.

In the UK, 25 year old trans man Toni Asik died in custody of the UK prison system. He’d been housed with the women in the prison, and was experiencing severe mental health issues. The staff apparently repeatedly misgendered and mistreated Toni prior to his death, which from what I can gather, is thought to have been by suicide.

Neglect. Disgust. Cruelty.

And my siblings are gone. And we will gather to grieve them in a few weeks.

But here is the thing I want to talk about today. There are precious trans souls alive right now. Living, breathing, trying to make their way in this world. Maybe fast asleep, maybe watching a favorite show. They might have gone to work or school today, and hugged a friend or said, “I love you,” to their mom.

Here is fact so awful it makes me want to scream until my voice is gone: some of them will also be among those we have lost come November 20th, and there’s nothing I can do about it but watch as names are added. And I just so badly wish I knew who so that I could do something about it.

However, we don’t live in that particular sci-fi or fantasy world. We don’t know which trans woman will be murdered because some insecure man can’t handle the fact that he is attracted to her. We don’t know which trans boy will be lost to suicide because the bullying at school was relentless, and the only reaction his parents would give him would be, “our daughter, just stop saying you’re a boy!” We don’t know which non-binary sibling of ours will be gone but then there will be days of indignity as the media fails to take three seconds to understand how to refer to them accurately and respectfully.

Someone will cry out for help and be mocked. Someone will be with someone safe who, in an instant, becomes their end. Someone will simply be desperate and be callously destroyed. Someone will have a cause of death of “drug overdose” or “alcohol poisoning”, but we will know that this person was just trying to cope with a world that is screaming, “WE HATE YOU.” Their death will be brushed aside so easily we likely won’t even know their name on November 20th. Some of these deaths will be called “suicides”, but when despair and precarity are the inevitable results of a society, those who built that society deserve the blame. And some of these will be rightly understood as political violence — the inevitable result of government policies of hatred towards trans people¹.

It might be tempting to think of Trans Day of Remembrance as something like Memorial Day. A day of recognition for all those lost in the past.

But my dear trans community (I love you all so much) instead has a most peculiar and dreadful need²: we know we will lose dozens of people every single year, with such confidence that we have put a date on this year’s calendar. And next year’s. And the next and the next and the next. Not to mourn all those we lost in the past. But to mourn those we lose each and every year. Today, like all days, could be called a day of premembrance.

And so I sit here in early October and grieve those I cannot yet name, because in this moment they are still here. But I know that they are living their last days. Wearing their last incredible outfit. Helping their friend for the last time. Smiling their last smiles. Laughing their final laughs. Crying their last tears. Hugging their last hugs. And then, with nothing you, or I, or anyone else can do, they will be gone. All we will have is what stories people can tell about them, the memories, the things they created, and the impact they made on those around them.

And for some, their name will be on a list to be grieved on November 20th.

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Some pleas

A word to my trans friends: stay. Some of the deaths I described above will be done to trans people and there may be nothing we can do about it. But some are deaths due to mental health of substance abuse, and those we can. Please, please… stay. I know things are hard. I’ve wondered this year if I was going to make it. Sometimes I still do. But remember that getting to tomorrow is worth it. If you can get help, get help. If you can make your home safer, do it. I truly believe that better days are coming and that there is still so much joy and love and life to be had right now. Find those joys and loves and cling to them.

A word to the allies: help. Your trans friend has had a very difficult year. This is fact, not a guess. Go give them a hug. Tell them you love them. Let them know what they mean to you and that you are there for them and it doesn’t matter to you if they can’t be there for you as much right now. Be Samwise Gamgee who tells them that you can’t carry their burden of living in this world right now, but you’d be honored to help carry them. If you can help provide housing, health care, financial suppot, or some form of security or safety or more, consider doing it. For those of you who are Christian, consider these words:

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

But consider what your friend is facing right now, and endeavor to help them feel a little lighter.

A word to everyone: please take care of yourselves. Find a way to spread and experience love, if you can. I saw this in the park the other day, and it made me smile and I hope it makes you smile, too:

Sidewalk chalk saying “Today is so beautiful!” with a heart drawn below it.

1. To anyone who will ask “but what about [some other incident of violence directed at someone who isn’t transgender].” I condemn that in the strongest terms also. I stand against political violence regardless of who is targeted.

2. I want to say here that if you are thinking “but this other community could also have such a day”, I completely agree with you and would support other communities regularly targeted by violence if they wanted to have a similar day of remembrance.