Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

The Researchers Investigating Missing, Murdered, Unclaimed, and Unidentified Trans and Queer Neighbors Around the World

I want the kids in Pennsylvania that are mourning their friends and classmates to know that their loved one’s story is being seen by other kids in Oklahoma, Vancouver, Buenos Aires, Paris. I think it’s comforting to know that someone’s story is being carried on and heard by people who understand. 

Recently, we launched a mini-series exploring the work of tracking and reporting anti-trans violence. You can read the initial post The Researchers: A Closer Look at the Search for Missing and Murdered Trans and Queer People

I created a Q&A for multiple people involved in this work. I’ve learned so much from them. Also, I realize how most people don’t actually realize what does into this work, in terms of time, resources, emotional labor, and determination.

You can read about the tools at the link above. Here, we want you to read what the researchers themselves have to say.

I work with most of these folx through the Facebook Trans Violence Group. I am grateful for their time and energy to help my readers better understand this complex and difficult work. That being said, please note that I do not necessarily agree with everything they say.

Kris reached out to me when I wrote about the death of Nex Benedict earlier this year. They reached out to me to offer support in the wake of that report, knowing as did I that soon the attention would go out with the tide leaving the researchers and every trans kid in the country to pick up the pieces. We stayed in touch. Kris had brutal insight that they delivered honestly, but with care. Their Q&A offers important insight into what happens behind the scene and the toll it takes.

Your Name as you wish it to be published: Kris T.

Your Pronouns : They/them

Affiliation(s) : Currently working at a trans-focused nonprofit, but my opinions here are my own.

How do you describe your identity?  Queer

Please describe your specific involvement in finding and honoring murdered, missing, and unclaimed trans and queer people.

Most of my day-to-day work involves advocacy in justice and violence, and doing this work grew from the work done with that portfolio.  Compiling names, demographics, case numbers, and facts is helpful when you’re talking to government officials or analyzing the effects of different laws and policies. Some meetings are all head and no heart, but they can get you closer to your goal. That doesn’t mean they’re everything.  

Information for reports can feel very cold, and it’s hard to do that for any amount of time and not think about the stories and the people behind those numbers. Instead of fighting that urge to humanize people, it felt more natural to create an intentional space just for that purpose.  The public sees most of this work in November when the focus is on Trans Day of Remembrance, but searching for names and stories happens year-round.  This is my second year leading this work at my current employer, building off of what we have done previously and what others do and have done before me.  

My ‘research’ time involves a lot of searching news reports, social media, police reports, obituaries, for the names of people we’ve lost.  Sometimes I’m starting with an email from a loved one or tips from other sources, but then there’s a lot of work to make sure you find as much good accurate information as possible. I try to work as much as I can with other activists and community members to share information, compile stories that are respectful and compassionate, and find ways to contextualize deaths that feel so senseless.  Then you put that information out in the world and just hope that people connect with it in ways that honor their memories.

It’s funny how nobody is too sad to post stories of the people we lost who are light-skinned, skinny, attractive, or ‘respectable’, but the most marginalized people in our communities are too sad.  The word ‘ally’ is a verb: you have to do it not claim it.  If you’re not sharing these stories then what actions are you taking to honor their memories and protect our community?

What geographic region(s) do you cover? Why? 

I inherited a list that was exclusively focused on the United States.  Those are still the names and stories I focus on because most of my work and impact is on US advocacy, but I collect names from all over the world.  There is a balancing act to respecting local activists and working with these lists. Working at a national organization, I try to use the resources and platform at my disposal to bring these stories to a wider audience than many organizations are able to reach, while making sure that the attention this work gets is also distributed across the movement and to the communities impacted. I want the kids in Pennsylvania that are mourning their friends and classmates to know that their loved one’s story is being seen by other kids in Oklahoma, Vancouver, Buenos Aires, Paris. I think it’s comforting to know that someone’s story is being carried on and heard by people who understand.  And I also want them to find their way to connections and organizations in their neighborhoods that can give them community, or help them build that network before they move away to college or their next chapter.  So I try to fill that niche as respectfully as I can.

I think it’s good to have lots of activists keeping lists and sharing them with others, but variations also show just how much anti-trans policies and laws influence how trans+ lives are erased in death in government reporting and other “official” data collecting efforts.

Why is this work important? 

These were people whose lives had value, but for many of them there are no memorials that honor their passing or treat them with dignity.  Everyone deserves to have that respect.  I recently met another global trans+ activist at a conference who is being persecuted in their home country. When they saw the memorials I was working on and the way I try to collect this information they looked me in the eye and asked “if I don’t make it home please make sure you put me on your list.” They didn’t want to be forgotten.  When you are in community with someone and you can give them the peace of knowing their memory is protected, I don’t know how you would turn your back on that. 

What are some of the challenges you face in your efforts? 

Doing this involves a lot of investigation to uncover details, match official reports (that deadname victims) with their true identities, and reaching out to family and friends without always knowing who is accepting and who is transphobic.  You’re an amateur detective but without any background or training on how to deal with the horrors and bad news you uncover.  It’s often psychologically draining and you have to be tough enough to stomach the gruesome details and the injustice of how so many of these lives ended. You have to hold on to your sanity and your empathy, and keep digging for the joyful moments and details about peoples’ lives through the reports about their death.

Consistency is a challenge. Doing this work pushes up against institutional and bureaucratic obstacles.  Police, medical examiners, newspapers and news agencies, identity documents – these are all areas with different rules and policies around how to record and report deaths and identities.  Some are doing a good job of reporting accurately and respectfully, but others are trying and failing or blatantly choosing disrespect.  It makes it hard on the front end to collect information, but it also puts the burden on this distributed group of activists.  We each have to determine which cases on the margins get included, and how much information we need about a person before they get added.  I think it’s good to have lots of activists keeping lists and sharing them with others, but variations also show just how much anti-trans policies and laws influence how trans+ lives are erased in death in government reporting and other “official” data collecting efforts.

Tell us about the aspects of this work that the typical person may not understand or see. 

Sometimes obstacles come from allies, colleagues, or queer partner groups that are only involved in this work as a collaborator around TDOR. Partnerships and collaborations that keep the focus on the dead are really important ways to engage with this work, and many people and groups engaged in these partnerships do so mindfully and in service to the lives we are commemorating. They are deeply impactful relationships and opportunities for us to uplift each other and our different contributions.

It can be easy to look at the beautiful memorials on websites and zines or the community solidarity at vigils and think that this work is beautiful and joyful and a fun project.  That’s the part we want loved ones in mourning to see. 

But when people on this side of the work choose to commodify it or reshape it without wanting to fully engage with it, I find that disrespectful and in really poor judgement.

This is not that. This work is a year-round backpacking trip through hell.  I spend a lot of hours on and off the clock sifting through really dark shit with no opportunity to vent or off-load the details to someone else.  I’ve spent hours on social media sites dedicated to harassing trans people because it has led to the names of people that would have otherwise been missed.  I’ve compared missing persons reports and selfies to photos of decomposing remains to try and help put names to unknown people, and some activists are doing so much more of that than I am.  

How do you balance the privacy of a grieving family with the needs of the trans and queer communities? 

The reason this work exists is because people who aren’t cisgender aren’t treated with the same dignity and respect in death that cis people are.  ‘Privacy’ becomes a euphemism for secrecy, because actually the family is ashamed of or trying to erase the trans person’s identity.  This work is about correcting that imbalance and creating stories that are as robust and loving and truthful as we would expect if the family fully embraced their loved one.  I’m not publishing exposés or publicly shaming people. 

Much of the queer community thinks of “family” as the people who love us and who we have safe, caring relationships with; that’s not always the same people you’re related to by birth. Sometimes I’ll reach out to that family or loved ones that submit information and work with them to create something together, but other people can’t do that from the place they’re in in the grieving process.  I never push anyone to share more than they feel good about.

We speak often about the need to educate the media, law enforcement, and the criminal justice system about anti-trans violence. What institutions would you add to that list and why? 

All of them. Everyone should be educated about anti-trans violence. Hate, fear, and misinformation drive the discrimination that fuels violence. So much of the mistreatment that trans people deal with would – and should – sicken and scare anyone with morals or empathy.  Trans lives are often treated as abstractions, obstacles, or political footballs instead of as humans. If an institution is apathetic or comfortable with being disengaged, they enable the violence to continue. Educate everyone. 

What do you say to the person who hesitates to share each post/flyer because it is ‘too sad.’ 

I think it depends on who is saying it.  Overwhelmingly, this work is done by members of the trans community.  We have to put coworkers and friends and siblings on these lists. We say the right things to each other about self-care, but we all push ourselves too hard to try and find every name so nobody is forgotten. At some point, it has to be okay to let someone else cover you.  

If you’re not searching for these names and telling these stories, I think you need to ask yourself what ‘too sad’ means.  Whose stories are you choosing to elevate and who are you leaving out? It’s funny how nobody is too sad to post stories of the people we lost who are light-skinned, skinny, attractive, or ‘respectable’, but the most marginalized people in our communities are too sad.  The word ‘ally’ is a verb: you have to do it not claim it.  If you’re not sharing these stories then what actions are you taking to honor their memories and protect our community?

Please list any organizations or groups doing this work that people should know about. (Please write out the name and provide a link.)

I’m always reluctant to advertise people or groups this way because safety can be a big concern for trans activists. Local trans-led organizations are a great starting point, and they can help connect people to resources and activists in a safe way.

The reason this work exists is because people who aren’t cisgender aren’t treated with the same dignity and respect in death that cis people are.  ‘Privacy’ becomes a euphemism for secrecy, because actually the family is ashamed of or trying to erase the trans person’s identity.  This work is about correcting that imbalance and creating stories that are as robust and loving and truthful as we would expect if the family fully embraced their loved one.  I’m not publishing exposés or publicly shaming people. 

Thank you, Kris.

Other posts in this series in chronological order

• : A Closer Look at the Search for Missing and Murdered Trans and Queer People
• Read #TheResearchers Q&A With Noah ‘The Stigma Fighter’
• Read #TheResearchers Q&A With Arielle Rebekah
• A Must Read Q&A with Mal Fox #TheResearchers
• Read This Q&A with Gordy Carmona #TheResearchers