In a sobering new report that underscores the vulnerability of marginalized communities, Los Angeles County has recorded its highest number of hate crimes since 1980. According to the Los Angeles County Commission on Human Relations, 1,350 hate crimes were documented in 2023, representing a staggering 45% increase from the previous year. Within these grim statistics, the transgender community stands out as having experienced the most severe escalation in targeted violence. Transgender people reported 99 hate crimes in 2023—an alarming 125% surge from 2022. Nearly all of these incidents were violent, ranging from assaults and intimidation to robbery.
The data is both shocking and heartbreakingly familiar for many transgender individuals, their families, and their allies. If these disturbing findings are coming out of a diverse and ostensibly progressive region like Los Angeles County, it prompts an urgent question: what would similar surveys uncover in other parts of the United States—or, indeed, the world? The sobering truth is that transphobia and anti-trans violence know no borders.
A Record-Setting Year of Hate Crimes
The annual report, compiled from over 50 county law enforcement agencies, school districts, and community-based organizations, reveals that 2023 was a year of record-breaking hate incidents on multiple fronts. African Americans, Asians, Jewish people, Latino/as, LGBTQ+ individuals, and especially transgender people saw unprecedented spikes in hate crimes. The report also recorded the highest counts of anti-immigrant slurs, crimes related to Middle East conflicts, and cases involving white supremacist ideology.
For transgender people, the numbers are especially dire. Out of the 99 anti-trans hate crimes logged, a staggering 97% were violent. This brutal statistic illustrates that these are not mere words or slurs—trans people are facing physical harm simply for existing as their authentic selves. Three-quarters of these crimes targeted transgender women, with the overwhelming majority of perpetrators identified as men. Public spaces, where people should feel safe and free, became the most common locations for these acts of aggression.
“Hate crimes are severely underreported,” said Robin Toma, executive director of the LA County Commission on Human Relations, acknowledging that the true scale of violence is likely even greater. If the official numbers are this high, one can only imagine how many transgender people remain in the shadows, frightened to report their experiences for fear of reprisal or mistrust in the system.
Community Voices and the National Context
Local leaders and advocates attribute these shocking numbers, in part, to a national environment charged with anti-transgender rhetoric. Bamby Salcedo, president of the TransLatin@ Coalition, pointed directly to the toxic political climate. “We know that bad political actors have used trans people as scapegoats to further their wishes at the expense of people who are simply trying to live their lives,” Salcedo said.
The report’s timeline coincides with a surge in transphobic policies and rhetoric sweeping across the U.S. Attempts to ban transgender athletes from sports, prohibit gender-affirming care, or exclude transgender people from public life send a harmful message. This environment emboldens those with violent intentions, turning hateful words into brutal actions.
While Los Angeles County has historically been seen as a liberal bastion and a place where marginalized communities could find relative acceptance, the reality is more complicated. As County Supervisor Holly Mitchell noted, the next few years might see even worse figures, given the normalization of hateful rhetoric nationwide. “It’s not hard to see the connection between the rise of hateful rhetoric in our politics and the increase in hate crimes against targeted communities,” added Supervisor Janice Hahn. “Words do have consequences.”
A Wider Crisis Across Communities
Though the transgender community is bearing a uniquely sharp brunt of these hate crimes, they are hardly alone. The report found that LGBTQ+ people as a whole were the second most targeted group, with attacks against gay men also surging. Religious hate crimes climbed by an astounding 90%, with Jewish communities targeted at record levels. Among racial and ethnic minorities, Black people—who make up only 9% of the county’s population—were almost half of the racial hate crime victims. Anti-Asian hate crimes rose 31%, reflecting a disturbing legacy of xenophobia that was amplified during the pandemic years.
Hate does not manifest in a vacuum. White supremacist ideology surfaced in 14% of the crimes, some suspects explicitly identifying with extremist groups or brandishing hate symbols. Anti-immigrant slurs accompanied 123 recorded hate crimes, with Latino and Asian communities targeted most frequently.
These numbers highlight a truth that transcends identity categories. Hate directed at one community makes all communities less safe. Intersectionality—recognizing that individuals can belong to multiple marginalized groups at once—helps us understand how violence against transgender people isn’t happening in isolation. It’s part of a larger narrative of bigotry affecting a range of identities.
Resilience, Reporting, and the Road Ahead
Despite the grim findings, some regard the high numbers as evidence that more victims are now reporting hate crimes. Toma noted that the LA vs Hate initiative, a community-centered reporting system independent of law enforcement, has made it easier for survivors to come forward. People who previously felt distrustful of the authorities might now be more willing to speak up, knowing there are community resources and advocates ready to support them.
This improved reporting is critical. Empowering victims to come forward not only helps to hold perpetrators accountable but also ensures that policymakers, service providers, and the public have the data needed to identify trends and craft solutions. However, better reporting does not fully account for the spikes in hate crimes. The political climate, emboldened hate groups, and widespread misinformation are undoubtedly fueling these dangerous dynamics.
District Attorney Nathan Hochman has pledged to bring consequences to those committing hate crimes, while also preserving First Amendment rights. While words alone, no matter how vile, may be protected speech, once hate turns into action—be it assault, vandalism, or intimidation—those responsible must face legal repercussions. His stance is a reminder that policy responses need to be both firm and nuanced, holding perpetrators accountable while providing restorative paths forward when possible.
If This Happens Here, Then What Else is Out There?
For many transgender individuals and their allies, Los Angeles County’s report is a jolting wake-up call. L.A. is often portrayed as a city of inclusion, but if these numbers are a reflection of what’s happening in a relatively progressive region, imagine what less resourced or more conservative regions might experience. In states where anti-trans legislation is being signed into law and public sentiment is less supportive, the risk of underreported or ignored hate crimes is even greater.
And it’s not just the U.S. The global climate shows a disturbing pattern of anti-trans hostility, from attempts to roll back transgender rights in parts of Europe to violent attacks reported in countries across Latin America and beyond. The unsettling truth is that bigotry thrives in silence. Without proper reporting mechanisms, without supportive community networks, and without media coverage, these stories remain untold—and perpetrators continue their harassment with impunity.
Combating hate crimes is about more than policing and prosecution. It requires a social and cultural shift. Schools, workplaces, religious institutions, and families all have roles to play in fostering empathy, understanding, and acceptance. Education—about transgender identities, intersectionality, and the historical roots of discrimination—can make a difference. Encouraging allies to stand up for transgender friends, neighbors, and coworkers can also have a profound ripple effect.
For the transgender community, organizations like the TransLatin@ Coalition, Somos Familia Valle, and LA vs Hate provide essential lifelines. They offer resources, psychological support, community-building activities, and safe reporting channels. They also remind survivors that they are not alone. Every reported hate crime can galvanize activism, driving policy changes and pushing communities to rethink how they treat their most vulnerable members.
The Bottom Line
The Los Angeles County Hate Crime Report for 2023 is a dire warning. Transgender people, despite efforts to raise awareness and acceptance, remain at disproportionate risk for violence. But these revelations should not simply be cause for despair. They should motivate us—transgender people, allies, families, advocates, and community leaders alike—to take action. If this surge can happen in Los Angeles, one of the most diverse and ostensibly open-minded places in the country, what does that say about conditions elsewhere?
By recognizing the problem, reporting it accurately, and demanding accountability from perpetrators and leaders, we can begin to dismantle the structures that allow hate to flourish. We must invest in comprehensive community education, stand up against hateful rhetoric in our politics and media, and provide robust resources and protections for transgender people.
Empathy and understanding are powerful forces, stronger than fear, prejudice, or ignorance. The transgender community is here to stay—vibrant, resilient, and deserving of full respect and safety. The question is whether we, as a society, will continue to let these hate crimes rise or work together to create a future where everyone can live freely, authentically, and without fear. It’s a challenge that we cannot afford to ignore, in Los Angeles County or anywhere else in the world.
