This piece by TransEpiscopal Steering Committee member the Rev. Kori Pacyniak first appeared in the November 2024 issuer of Justice Jottings, the monthly newsletter of the Marianist Social Justice Collaborative.
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Every year, on November 20, communities around the world come together to remember transgender and gender non-conforming people who have been lost to violence within the last year on Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR). These vigils are often marked with the reading of names and candles, honoring our transcestors who are no longer with us. I attended my first TDOR vigil on a chilly night in November of 2009, with light drizzle coming down. It started out at the Episcopal Church that I was interning while doing my MDiv. As the church filled up with a gender diverse community from all around Boston, some looked uncomfortable due to the harm often caused to trans people by religious institutions. Soon a candlelit procession begins from the church down Brighton Avenue to near where Rita Hester, a Black transgender woman whose death in 1998 prompted the first vigils in Boston and San Francisco, lived. Candles to brighten the way, to remind us all of hope in the midst of despair. As we reached our destination, I realized that we had moved from one sacred space to another; the street corner has become just as sacred as the church. Slowly, reverently, the names of all the transgender people lost to violence within the last year were read. It became a litany, a prayer for those we’ve lost, and a voice echoing through my soul to bear witness. To not turn away. It reminds me of the passion, of the witness of the women at the foot of the cross. The moment when Jesus turns to his mother and says, “Woman, there is your son.” And then Jesus turns to the beloved disciple and says, “There is your mother.” Every year on Trans Day of Remembrance, as a too long list of names is read, I hear Jesus’ voice: “Bear witness for me. This is your kin. Your sister. Your brother. Your sibling. These are my beloved. Do not let any one of these be lost. For they are precious to me.” 
 
Right now, in the wake of the 2024 election, the trans community is shaken and afraid, because of anti-trans rhetoric cloaked in religious values coming at us from all sides. Afraid because of the 664 anti-trans pieces of legislation that have been proposed in 43 states in 2024 alone. Afraid because we do not know if our faith communities are safe places for us to live authentically as ourselves. 
 
This Trans Day of Remembrance offers an opportunity for transgender allies, accomplices, and co-conspirators. To learn about the history of Trans Day of Remembrance. To learn about local legislation and policies in your area and how they affect trans adults and youth. To listen to the stories of trans folks. To stand side by side with us in our grief, fear, and anger. To remind us that we have allies in the battle for our survival. To remind us that we are loved and beloved by God and by our communities. Paraphrasing the words of theologian Sallie McFague, “Great action requires great faith.” Both great faith and great action will be needed in the days ahead, as we face the unknown. We must protect trans children so that they are able to grow into trans adults. We must recognize the face of God in the face of our trans siblings. These are our siblings, friends, lovers, children, grandchildren, parents. It will require all of us, working together in solidarity, to stand up to the injustice of anti-trans rhetoric and legislation and help bring about a world where our trans siblings are not merely tolerated, but where they can flourish to the fullest. 
 
On this Trans Day of Remembrance, I offer this prayer: 

God of grief and lament. God who hears our cries and knows our innermost hearts. Be with us in our grief and sadness. Be with us in our anger and lament. Remind us that every one of us, in all our gender diversity, reflects Your boundless wonder. Help us to listen with open hearts, to be transformed by Your love, and to never cease working for justice in Your name. Amen.  

This is a strange, liminal time in the liturgical year, when signs of endings are, as the hymn puts it, all around us, even as we look forward to the harbinger of hope and new birth soon to be announced in Advent. 

For those of us in the trans community, this is a liminal time in another way—a time when we actively remember and face the ongoing reality of our vulnerability to violence and death, particularly for trans women of color. And it is a time when we seek to galvanize ourselves and our allies, to take our horror, grief, and outrage and harness it for change. To that end, this Saturday, November 20th, marks the 11th annual, International Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR).

Brief History

As it so happens, TDOR started with a local murder here in Boston. On November 28, 1998 Rita Hester was found dead, having been stabbed multiple times by an assailant who has never been identified. In the days following her murder, a vigil was held down the street from my former parish, St. Luke’s and St. Margaret’s in Allston, MA, where Rita lived. Across the country, San Francisco activist Gwen Smith then started the Remembering Our Dead website, which began keeping track of trans people around the world who had died due to transphobic violence (that work is now carried on by Ethan St. Pierre at this site). Gwen also organized a vigil in San Francisco in 1999 that inspired similar events around the world. The most common date for holding TDOR, November 20th, marks the death of another Boston trans woman, Chanelle Pickett, who had been murdered on that date in 1995. TDORs now happen around the globe, and in some cases expand to include educational events. Here in Massachusetts, this is Trans Awareness Week, with multiple activities happening across the state.  

What Your Congregation Can Do This Week

* go to a TDOR in your community. Listen, support, be present as an ally

* host a TDOR in your community—more and more churches are opening their doors in this way, though the events themselves are not usually religious services. Indeed, it is important to be sensitive to the fact that many members of the trans community feel deeply alienated from religious traditions and communities. Simply opening your door, making space for the trans community to come together and organize its own event, is incredibly powerful. More and more Episcopal parishes and cathedrals are hosting these events-- here in Boston, for instance, TDOR will be hosted by the Crossing and the Cathedral Church of St. Paul this Saturday at 6pm). In Sacramento, California, Trinity Episcopal Cathedral (@ 27th & Capitol) will be hosting the city's TDOR with a candlelight vigil at 6:30 p.m. 

* Host another event in trans week (or at another time of the year), like an open mic night, or a film viewing, again, making sure that it is organized by the local trans community.

* Consider making a special space in your service this Sunday to honor the trans community. Perhaps in your Prayers of the People, for instance, you might name those who have died this past year and/or compose a special collect; perhaps you might mention this event in a sermon—be creative, open and compassionate (and if you’re willing to then share what you did and how it went, it would be great to include such vignettes in future blog posts).

* However and whenever you are able, please pray for the trans community. Pray for our strength and stamina in this newly challenging political climate, as we continue to fight for basic nondiscrimination and anti-violence legislation, as we strive for equal access to health care, as we make our way in all sorts of vocations, families, and faith communities.  

- The Rev'd Dr. Cameron Partridge 

November in the Episcopal Diocese of Massachsusetts has been quite the month on the LGBT front with big ticket items during our Diocesan Convention, to Transweek and Transgender Day of Remembrance, to this weekend’s announcement about the role of clergy in same sex marriage.

At our Diocesan Convention during the first weekend of November, a resolution was overwhelmingly passed expressing our hope that Bishop M. Thomas Shaw III would give clergy permission to legally solemnize same sex marriages. +Tom has long been a supporter of LGBT people in general – and speaking as a trans priest whom he ordained, I mean it when I include the T – and equal marriage in particular, stepping out in support of equal civil marriage during this state’s protracted battle over it.  

But once gay couples were legally allowed to wed, Episcopal clergy were still limited to blessing said couples. And while I realize just being allowed to do blessings would be a coup in some dioceses, here being limited to blessings felt like a pastoral nightmare. I can’t tell you how many clergy have had repeated conversations with couples about how they could solemnize some marriages but not others. Some clergy have refused to solemnize any marriages in the in-between time of the past five years. And so, while the conversation about whether we should even “be in the marriage business” as legal representatives of the state goes on, that is a conversation that I suspect will take this Church a long time to sort out. It’s a lot more difficult to disentangle than I think people on all sides of the debate realize. In the meantime, to me it has made no sense to refuse to let same sex couples in the solemnization door while we figure out whether we want to restrict our involvement in all marriages to blessings.

Another way I have personally faced this issue is in doing trans marriages. We who are trans also face limitations in our ability to wed. Much depends not only on whether our partnerships are gay, bi, or heterosexual – just like everyone else -- but also on whether our legal documentation (e.g. drivers licenses) accurately reflects our gender. And when I say accurate, I mean whether it reflects our identities, not the meanings that others might write on our bodies. In some states changing appropriate identification is easier than in others (for instance, Ohio is notoriously difficult). So when a couple with a trans member has approached me to do their wedding (and I have now done several), one of the things I have had to ask at some point is what the gender markers on their drivers licenses say. In some cases I have been able to bless only and in others I have been able to bless and solemnize. Each time I have been aware that I am part of the ongoing transformation of marriage in this time and place. Because, as I see it, marriage is not now and has never been static. Its meaning and form has long been changing. What was the miracle that Jesus undertook at Cana? The transformation of water into wine. Our relationships are to be sacred vessels in which we walk together through the changes and chances of this life.

But I have to say—and I say this as someone who obviously cares a lot about the marriage debates -- all the energy we pour into marriage can get pretty irritating to the trans community. Because even though we are impacted by the rules regarding marriage as well, marriage is not the most important thing to the trans community (insofar as we can say there is a single trans community—there are indeed numerous communities). Protecting our most basic human rights are. Keeping members of our community safe from violence – as our sisters of color most often experience – and free from often blatant discrimination on the job, in schools, housing, credit, and medical care, is what we are most concerned about. And so we are pleased that the Matthew Shephard Hate Crimes Act is finally now law, but we wait eagerly for the passage of a fully inclusive Employment Nondiscrimination Act and the passage of local and state laws that safeguard us in our various communities.

November is a month that the trans community around the globe is increasingly claiming as its own. The main impetus for this is Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR) which takes place every year on November 20th. Fourteen years ago, an African American Bostonian named Chanelle Pickett was murdered here in Boston on that date. I remember it well because I was a first year MDiv student interning at the Victim Recovery Program at the Fenway Community Health Center at the time, and it was also my birthday. Three years later, on November 28th, 1998 another African American woman named Rita Hester died in Brighton, MA, three blocks from the congregation I now serve, St. Luke’s and St. Margaret’s. This murder sparked a vigil on Brighton Avenue across from the place she was last seen. One year later, the trans community in San Francisco marked that anniversary with the first ever Transgender Day of Remembrance. And so the TDOR tradition, which is now international, was born.  

Last year for the first time, Boston’s TDOR was held at St. Luke’s and St. Margaret’s in a secular event that packed the small church. This year, once again, we were asked to host this event (read about it here in the Allston/Brighton TAB; photos by Marilyn Humphries are here). It was a particular honor to be able to share with the gathered community that at its General Convention this past summer The Episcopal Church went on record in support of our full civil rights. And in another important demonstration of support and encouragement, the Crossing, the emergent church style congregation at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul in Boston, held a special service in honor of TDOR on Thursday evening, November 19th, also hosting Transcriptions, the local trans/queer themed open mic. More and more Episcopal congregations are opening their arms to trans people.

And then yesterday lay and ordained leaders in Diomass received a beautifully clear letter from our bishop declaring that as of Advent I clergy in this diocese are indeed authorized to solemnize the marriages of same sex couples (read about it in the Boston Globe or Bay Windows). No more do gender markers on licenses matter. As I talked about it on the phone with a friend and fellow trans priest, I said, “what a relief!” He replied, “I know—now I wanna run out and find a gay couple to marry!” 

And so life here in Massachusetts continues to move forward with blessings amid all our complexities. But to me the greatest gift of all this November is my son who was born in mid-October. Today, literally as I wrote this piece, he smiled at me for the first time. God is so good.

- The Rev'd Dr. Cameron Partridge

This piece was originally written for the Walking with Integrity blog.