This past Monday, I was sitting at my local coffee shop when a friend, a longtime queer activist, showed me a photo on their phone that stopped me cold. Overnight, someone had spray-painted “Kill Fags” across his apartment building, with a Nazi symbol scrawled beneath it.
This happened in Toronto’s Gay Village, a neighbourhood that’s long been seen as a refuge, a hub, a kind of home for our community. (The exact address is being kept private.) And what makes it all the more disturbing? It was done right under a security camera. No attempt to hide. Just pure, shameless hate.
Understandably shaken, my friend reached out to our city councillor, contacted some media, and called the police. What he heard back was chilling, though sadly not surprising: anti-queer and anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise, not just here in Toronto, but across Canada and throughout North America.
To put this into perspective, take a look at this graphic created by Egale Canada:
This infographic illustrates a staggering 69% national increase in police-reported hate crimes based on sexual orientation in 2023, with 860 incidents reported across Canada. Here in Toronto, the rise is just as stark, hate crimes based on sexual orientation nearly doubled, from 28 in 2022 to 57 in 2023, now accounting for 16% of all hate crimes in the city. These numbers confirm what many of us already feel in our bones: that it’s getting worse out there, not better.
These aren’t isolated acts. They’re part of a broader shift, a kind of hate that’s always been there, but now feels less hidden, less ashamed. And it’s no coincidence. While Donald Trump might not be out there tagging walls himself, his politics of fear and division have helped normalize this kind of behaviour. He didn’t create homophobia or transphobia, but he’s given it permission to show its face again.
The person behind the vandalism at my friend’s building? He turned out to be linked to other hateful messages spotted around the neighbourhood. Thankfully, he was caught the very next day, and the graffiti has since been removed. But let’s be real, removal doesn’t erase what it triggers.
Many of us are still carrying the invisible weight of past traumas. Some of us came out during the AIDS crisis, when just being seen was dangerous. Others grew up never hearing that it was okay to be who we are. Some wounds go unnamed, but that doesn’t make them any less painful.
And now, with Pride Month behind us, you’d hope for a moment to breathe. But the rainbow flags don’t always shield us. If anything, visibility can draw more fire.
So what can we do?
We start by not retreating. Don’t shrink. Don’t hide. Repaint the graffiti immediately, yes, and consider this too: when we stand tall in our queerness, in our gender freedom, in our full authentic selves, we don’t just protect our own dignity, we signal to others that it’s safe to be who they are too.
Here are a few simple, powerful actions we can take:
Take a photo, report to Toronto Police Services, then remove the graffiti as soon as possible. Don’t let it linger, gain power, or attract more of the same.
Also, consider reporting hate crimes to to local 2SLGBTQ+ organizations, and to community groups.
Check in with your queer and trans friends, especially those who are more visibly part of the community or more vulnerable.
Embrace our differences proudly. Our visibility may give someone else the courage they need.
I know that hate affects more than just the direct target, it affects all of us. And so does resistance, joy, and solidarity. We can meet this challenge not with fear, but with fierce compassion and the unapologetic boldness that’s always defined our community. Hate is never okay.
Raymond Helkio writes reviews for The Reading Salon and is a theatre artist, writer and poet living on the edge of insanity. Get in touch. ......................................... Raymond Helkio, AOCAD Art Director (they/them) 1-416-524-7656 https://raymondhelkio.com