Every year, the 20th of November marks Transgender Day of Remembrance, a day to remember the people in our community that we have lost to anti-transgender violence and suicide.
Every year I head to this website to take a chilling look at the yearly reports. Their reporting is done from the 1st of October to the 30th of September and this year, we have lost 419 people, an increase of 16 since last year. As a trans person myself, it is difficult to convey how worried, horrified and vulnerable these statistics make many people like me feel. That is 419 different people who lived complex and diverse lives that have been cut short by senseless pain, violence and pressure to conform. Even worse is that this is likely a lower estimate because this website is entirely volunteer-operated – we will never know about those who didn’t openly identify, those who were forced not to think about themselves and those who go silently.
Our community is tired. We are tired of being our own advocates, tired of constantly being pushed and we’re tired of losing our friends. Many more companies, charities and institutions now pay attention to Trans Day of Remembrance than ever before, but still, we are seeing the same thing the pride movement has experienced, presentational support that ends as soon as the clock ticks past 23:59.59. We are tired of remembering the ones we’ve lost and the world around us conveniently forgetting what caused those losses – murder isn’t accidental.
It is difficult to identify who decided trans people deserved this treatment, but the consequences are still felt today. In the UK, this rhetoric reached the very government offices, influencing policy decisions and the words of trusted elected politicians. Conservative governments in the UK increased the rate saw this occurring with the rolling back of promised conversion therapy bans, attempts to change the legal definition of gender to match with sex and, the banning of vital treatments such as puberty blockers. People look to the law as an established way to live their lives, so, these decisions influence the public too.
While it is easy to look to a Labour government as a solution, it is critical to acknowledge that simply voting them into power does not undo the damage or guarantee progress for trans rights. Labour has already made the puberty blocker ban permanent and perpetuated the harmful rhetoric that dehumanises trans individuals. Even parties that the public sees as progressive can fail to prioritise or protect marginalised communities. To ensure meaningful change, we must continue to campaign, educate, and hold them accountable. This may require standing in opposition to their policies, challenging their decisions, and building pressure until they commit to genuine, actionable support for trans people. Our fight cannot end at a polling station; it must extend into activism, advocacy, and sometimes rebellion to make our voices impossible to ignore.
Once the public is given the signal that such a thing isn’t acceptable, they will treat it as such. In the case of trans people, this creates division against people trying to live their lives authentically and safely. It creates a narrative where our existence is framed as a debate, our rights as optional, and our lives as dispensable. This toxic atmosphere fuels discrimination, violence, and alienation. For many, it starts with cruel words or stares and escalates to outright violence, making trans people question their place in the world.
The role of the media cannot be ignored. The sensationalism, misrepresentation, and fixation on trans issues in ways that dehumanise and vilify us have contributed to a culture where prejudice thrives. Headlines that focus on fearmongering rather than facts add fuel to the fire, pushing some to justify their hatred as "concern." This relentless scrutiny and hostility affect mental health, increase isolation, and create barriers to accessing support.
However, amid this darkness, there is resilience and hope. Transgender Day of Remembrance is not just a day of mourning but also a call to action—a reminder that we must continue to fight for justice and equality. Advocacy is a collective responsibility, and allies have a crucial role in amplifying our voices, challenging harmful rhetoric, and fostering environments where we can thrive.
Visibility matters, but it is not enough if it comes without systemic change. While representation in media and public life is growing, we must ensure that it is accompanied by meaningful protections, inclusive policies, and resources for trans people. Real allyship requires more than a tweet or a rainbow logo; it demands standing with us in the fight against anti-trans legislation, advocating for accessible healthcare, and dismantling the societal structures that perpetuate discrimination.
To honour the 419 lives lost this year, and the countless others who go unreported, let us commit to doing more. Let us remember that every statistic represents a person with dreams, struggles, and loved ones. Let us not wait for another November to acknowledge this crisis. Instead, let Transgender Day of Remembrance serve as a perpetual reminder of the urgent need for action, compassion, and solidarity.
The path forward will not be easy, but it is necessary. We cannot placate politicians by making compromises on our lives, we shouldn’t need to toe the line to have a seat at the table. We owe it to those we have lost—and to those still fighting—to keep pushing, to keep resisting, and to keep hoping.