The following blog post is written by Pastor Mack Patrick, Assistant to the Bishop in the Northern Illinois Synod, who is part of the transgender community, about Transgender Day of Remembrance. This post mentions suicide and violence but does not go into detail. The Northern Illinois Synod is a Reconciling in Christ Synod and stands with our transgender, gender non-conforming, and non-binary siblings.
365 names will be read this year on Transgender Day of Remembrance.
Let that sink in for a moment.
365 lives were lost this past year due to transphobia.
In the USA, 67 lives were cut short because others were unable to accept who they were.
Since its inception in 2009, Transgender Day of Remembrance, recognized on November 20th, has been committed to celebrating the resilience and courage of transgender, gender non-conforming, and non-binary individuals. It has been a day that brings awareness to the discrimination that the ever-expanding transgender community faces by living in a binary world.
In a way, Transgender Day of Remembrance is the transgender community's All Saints’ Day, a day to remember the lives lost while sitting in our own mortality. It is through the lighting of candles and saying their names that we celebrate those who had the opportunity to come out and live authentically as themselves. We remember those who knew who they were deep down but never had a chance to come out. We remember those who stayed in the closet out of fear for what their family or work might think. We remember those who took a stand against the rampant transphobia and made it easier for those who come after.
I can’t help but think of the 365 names on this year’s list, a list that I know is underrepresented. I can’t help but think of their stories, of the joy they felt when they were seen as a valid human being who deserved to be loved. I can’t help but think of their pain, the fear of being outed by a stranger, the comments that cut deep, and the fear that any day might be their last.
Each year on Transgender Day of Remembrance, I sit in grief looking at an ever-growing list, but I also sit in the fact that for another year, my name is not on that list. That is not something I take lightly; that is something I know comes with the privilege of passing as a white cisgender man. But even with that privilege, the past year has been one of the hardest years there has been since I came out almost 12 years ago. What started in January with a declaration that my existence was no longer valid has spiraled into a time and space I didn’t think was possible. The transphobia and hatred that are visible every day are more than most people can handle. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t worry about what I am wearing or the things that might give me away as someone who is transgender. It is not because I want to hide who I am – I am proud of who I have become in the past 12 years – but because it is the only way I know how to keep myself safe.
In 2025, 1,011 anti-transgender bills were introduced, and so far, 124 have passed. These bills include restrictions on gender-affirming care, access to bathrooms in state-owned buildings, and limited access to diversity, equity, and inclusion resources in schools. These bills were not brought up to make money but to deny the dignity of transgender, gender non-conforming, and non-binary individuals. These bills are rife with misinformation and are fueled by a desire to reinforce a human-created binary.
It goes without saying that the transgender community is resilient; the hatred that the community faces every single day is more than anyone should ever be forced to deal with. Those within the community who are at the intersection of marginalized identities face even more hatred than most. But even the most resilient people reach their breaking point when the hatred is coming as consistently as it is right now. In the United States, more than half of the lives lost died of suicide, which is half of all the suicides reported in the last year. A majority of the lives lost globally died by violence at the hands of others.While these statistics are lower than they have been in the past few years, there are still too many lives lost due to violence and transphobia. I yearn for the day that we no longer need to gather on November 20th to read a list of names lost in the past year.
Each year, I write about the hopes I have for the coming year, for the change I hope that this day makes as it brings awareness to the discrimination that the transgender community faces. My hope is consistent from year to year – progress is completely possible if we work together. I hope that one day, every single person is seen as someone who deserves dignity and respect, who is honored and valued, and who is loved and accepted. I hope that one day the closet no longer hides beautiful souls from the world. I hope that one day families can recognize that love is more important than beliefs that do not reflect our changing society. I hope that those who are questioning, who are living in the closet, and who are scared to come out, know that they are seen as who they are, that they have every right to live their truth.
I hope that those who are reading this find the courage to stand up for the transgender community; to listen to the stories of the transgender community, and to validate who people say they are without question.
365 names will be read this Transgender Day of Remembrance, and we will continue to work for a day when no names will be read.
