Across Canada, anti-LGBTQ2S+ harassment on transit is rising

From knife attacks in Toronto to an elderly woman pushed onto LRT tracks in Edmonton, violence on transit is a growing concern for many Canadians. 

Across the country, hate crimes against LGBTQ2S+ people are also on the rise, and transit riders and operators deal with what seem like constant violent attacks. From Vancouver to Hamilton, footage of homophobic and transphobic harassment on transit has become national news. Transit authorities and local governments are searching for solutions. Some jurisdictions are turning to police to make transit safer, but advocates and experts say that isn’t the solution. 

“First of all, police don’t protect people from crime. They come after the crime has already occurred, including hate crimes,” said Jyssika Russell, manager of Public Affairs and Communications at The Enchanté Network, which supports LGBTQ2S+ organizations across Canada.

Advocates and transit riders Xtra spoke to all agreed that increased policing doesn’t prevent crime—too often, it puts vulnerable populations at risk. 

“The role of police isn’t to increase ridership, it’s to decide who does and doesn’t belong on transit, which easily falls into targeting already vulnerable populations who are dependent on public transit,” said Juan Vargas, a climate and transit organizer from Edmonton.

Considering the prominence of homelessness amongst LGBTQ2S+ youth, and the rampant criminalization of homelessness across the country, it stands to reason that the presence of police on transit makes young queer and trans people particularly vulnerable—to police violence, to being forced out of subway stations and into the cold, and to further harassment. 

Hate crimes and harassment are yet another facet of the systemic violence that queer and trans people still face. A viral TikTok from January shows a man harassing a young gay couple on Vancouver’s SkyTrain. Jamie Pine and his boyfriend were followed off the SkyTrain by a man who yelled slurs, threw a beer can and made xenophobic comments. The man was later arrested after turning himself in to the Vancouver Police Department’s Hate Crime unit. 

The TikTok captured on camera what often goes unrecorded—the very real violence and harassment that LGBTQ2S+ people are still subjected to simply for existing in public. In posting the video, Pine sparked a public conversation about the prevalence of this kind of violence, and figures including Vancouver’s mayor to the premier of British Columbia voiced support for him. 

Telling Pine and his partner to “get out of Canada” and asking what country they’re from, the man in the video exposes the xenophobia and racism that often goes hand in hand with homophobia and transphobia. In a separate attack on Hamilton transit, a man harassed both trans and racialized riders. As Statistics Canada reports, Indigenous LGBTQ2S+ people and queer and trans people with disabilities are more likely to have been victims of physical or sexual violence. Overlapping marginalizations like class, race and ability can increase the risk of violence and harassment, making accessing and safely riding transit even more difficult. 

Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU) Canada national president John Di Nino told the Canadian Press that attacks on transit have reached “crisis levels” across the board. The ATU represents transit workers across North America.

“We’re seeing operator assaults, violence against transit workers, and now our riders at an alarming rate across this country,” Di Nino said.

“It does not surprise me that there is a rise in violence against queer people on public transit,” Alex Sangha, founder of Sher Vancouver, an organization that supports queer South Asians in the Vancouver region says. “This is another way we are victimized just trying to get to work or travel from one place to another.”

For those who don’t “pass,” moving through the world as a queer or trans person is especially stressful. Andy Trussler, a non-binary person from Edmonton, told Xtra about the terror they experienced as a visibly gay person on the bus. As they were taking transit home one afternoon, a group of young men boarded the bus and began “getting in everyone’s faces,” asking riders if they were gay. 

“I was totally frozen. The next stop wasn’t for three to four blocks and my only move was to bail,” Trussler says. “I’ve never bussed again.” 

Homophobic and transphobic violence on transit limits the movement of queer and trans people in our society. Especially those who rely on transit to get to work, access services and spend time with friends and family, fear of riding transit, or riding alone, prevents them from fully participating, or even accessing necessary services. When LGBTQ2S+ people don’t get to participate fully in our communities, the whole community loses. 

“For queer and trans people in urban centres, access to public transportation often makes the difference on whether they can access services and community,” says Vargas.

A study from Trans Pulse shows that an overwhelming majority of trans people have avoided at least one public space to avoid harassment or being outed. It’s a concerning statistic, and one reflected by the people Xtra spoke with—sometimes it’s safer to avoid taking transit, or to just stay home entirely. 

Maxwell Hughes, a trans man based in Gatineau, Quebec, shared his experience with harassment on transit—this time from a bus driver. Hughes boarded the bus in a crop top and paid the fare, but the bus driver refused to drive the bus with him on board. 

“The [driver] was like, you can’t go on the bus like this,” says Hughes. “I went and sat down. And then he didn’t move the bus for quite a while and people started getting off the bus because they didn’t know what was happening. So after everybody got off the bus, I went over and I was like, ‘Hey, is this because of me?’ And he was like, ‘Yes, I refuse to drive this bus anymore.’”

While city councils and provincial governments often look to solve the problem with more police, the real change comes from deep community work, educating people and training active bystanders. Empowering bystanders creates safer, stronger communities where violence isn’t acceptable—rather than compounding that violence by putting more police on transit. 

Riders I spoke to say they are particularly worried about the safety of their trans friends. Trussler says someone they know was attacked with a knife on the LRT because she is trans. 

“Police don’t keep people safe, particularly the queer and trans community,” Trussler says. “When I see a cop, I feel nervous until I can‘t see them anymore.”

Hughes, Trussler, Vargas and Russell all emphasized the importance of bystander intervention in responding to homophobia and transphobia. 

“Try your best to stand up. I know it’s easier said than done,” Hughes says. “But if you see something, check in on the person, ask what’s going on.” 

“Empowering and educating bystanders means the public can respond in the moment when harassment and violence occurs, rather than waiting for police or transit authorities to respond after the fact.”

The mainstreaming of anti-trans rhetoric has a real-world effect—it emboldens people and encourages harassment. But communities don’t have to tolerate transphobic and homophobic attacks. 

“I think there are some really easy wins that can happen [with bystander intervention]. Will that prevent every individual circumstance? No. But I think it’s important when we look at hate, we’re also thinking about the Overton window of what is acceptable in the realm of public discourse,” Russell says. 

Buses, subway stations and streetcars have tons of advertising space—space which Russell says could be utilized to promote bystander intervention and offer public education on LGBTQ2S+ issues. 

“When we talk about bystander intervention, that comes with education,” Russell explains. “I think that there’s an opportunity to use the infrastructure of transit to do that education.”

Empowering and educating bystanders means the public can respond in the moment when harassment and violence occurs, rather than waiting for police or transit authorities to respond after the fact. 

“The solution to safety on transit isn’t more cops, the solution is increased access,” says Vargas. “When more of us take transit, we’re more likely to look out for each other, whereas near-empty stations, trains and buses make it easier to get away with harassment.”

From the experts Xtra spoke to, to the young trans people just trying to take transit to get around their cities, everyone wants to see a future where it’s safe to exist in public, without involving police. They want stronger communities where they feel supported, and where they can participate fully and authentically as themselves. 

“This issue is such a big part of people’s everyday lives,” Hughes says, “We’re just trying to go to work and hang out with friends.” 

“I don’t think anyone really wants to live in a world where you can be attacked based on your identity in public spaces,” says Russell. “I think there are lots of different tactics we can use to make sure that we stand for our collective values of respect and care and freedom for everyone.” 

Violence and harassment on transit don’t just go away when cities deploy more cops to LRT stations. Governments need to invest in solving the root causes of violence. When cities invest in housing, better education, community-led crime intervention and address economic inequality, everyone’s lives are improved—especially those marginalized for their gender or sexuality. We all deserve to live in communities where everyone feels supported, where harassment isn’t tolerated and everyone is given the space to live their lives. 

“Everyone should have the freedom to exist in public space, without fear of harassment without fear of violence,” says Russell.