For 25 years, the queer community has gathered every Nov. 20, Trans Day of Remembrance, to mourn the trans people who were killed or died by suicide in the past year.
In Logan, a vigil was hosted by the Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, which Pastor Bill Ledford said has been trained and certified to be a safe place for the LGBTQ+ community.
“We are some of the lucky ones,” church secretary Holden Potter said. “It's very rare that people find a faith community that loves the queer community ... that has reconciled the historic difference between these two things.”
On Wednesday night, that connection was especially apparent, with the small chapel decorated with a mix of Christian and queer symbology — a ribbon of the trans flag draped over the cross, an inclusive queer flag on the podium, and candles in the trans flag colors lit on the altar.
The event, too, had a mixture of spiritual and non-spiritual elements, including some liturgy and a hymn about joy and liberation in the face of oppression.
“My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn,” the group sang. “Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near, and the world is about to turn.”
The core of most Trans Day of Remembrance vigils, no matter where or how they’re held, is reading the name of each trans person lost in the U.S. in the last year. As Potter read each name, another person rang a bell in their honor.
This year, 114 names were read, with likely many more unknown. According to the Trans Remembrance Project, 43 of those people were murdered, while 70 died by suicide. Over half of those killed in both cases were trans women.
The 304 trans people lost in 38 other countries were also honored with a bell rung for each country.
Between some of the names, individuals came up to read sections of scripture or poems that spoke of struggles, faith, death, and hope.
“You witness the things I won’t even say in confession, done when I was yet to see your care,” one person said, reading from the poem “What I Couldn’t See” by Jay Coleman. “You stood beside me, grieving as I called out, begging for a God already there.”
After the official service, the podium was opened up for attendees to share their thoughts, starting with Holden Potter, who talked about how they started the vigil at Prince of Peace last year.
“We had five people attend ... and there were two people sitting at the back of the sanctuary that the entire time, they were crying their eyes out,” Potter said. “And I knew that this was worth it and I knew that we would have to do this again.”
Some attendees talked about their own journeys with faith and queerness and the impact of seeing them intersect at this event.
“I don't think anybody can express how much it means to me to see the cross draped in the trans flag,” one person said. “I was very isolated at my Christian college, and I don't think this that's something that I could have ever conceived of.”
“I really do believe that we are going to see more and more people who can recognize, you know, the figure of Christ in the suffering of the queer community,” another person said.
Bree Ledford, the pastor’s wife, also offered support for those who had previously been excluded from faith communities.
“It just breaks my heart every single day when I hear about people who claim that they love Jesus and say so much hate against the community,” she said. “I want you guys to know there are people that love Jesus and love you, and we are here for you, and we are your allies.”
Not every speaker focused on faith, however. One person talked about a name that stood out to them, several expressed appreciation for the community and support at this event, and another asked for a moment of silence for all the unknown trans people who’d been lost.
“Especially this year and especially with what is going on in Palestine, it's made me realize the lack of names we have on this list,” they said.
As the vigil came to a close, Potter gave another promise of support from the church for anyone, religious or not, who needed community.
“If you’re struggling, or you’re like me and you’re going to stick around and fight tooth and nail for your right to exist,” Potter said, “know that Prince of Peace is a soft place for you to land.”
They urged everyone to keep fighting for themselves, their loved ones, and the trans community.
“If you’re having trouble hanging on for the people here and now, I’d like to argue that you have a duty to hang on for the people that come after you,” Potter said. “You have a duty to be somebody's queer elder or somebody's elder ally.”
A full list of the trans people lost this year, both in the U.S. and internationally, can be found on the Trans Remembrance Project website.
