Today in Disability History - Disability Day of Mourning

Remembering the Names

Trigger warning: death of disabled people, violence against disabled people. Please be safe

Each March 1st, many in the disability community pause to remember disabled people whose lives were taken by those entrusted with their care. Vigils are held across Canada and the United States. Names are read aloud. Lives are acknowledged.

As a disabled person, I do not read these names abstractly

The first Disability Day of Mourning was organized in 2012 by Zoe Gross of the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network (ASAN), in response to the death of George Hodgins, an autistic man killed by his mother. ASAN now maintains a memorial list of disabled people killed by parents or caregivers, with cases documented back to the 1980s. In 2025, 88 cases were reported.

Why These Deaths Happen

These deaths do not happen in isolation.

It would be easier to believe they occur solely because families lack adequate support — because respite care is scarce, because disability services are underfunded, because caregivers are exhausted and overwhelmed. And it is true that meaningful, accessible support matters deeply.

But there is also something cultural at work.

We live in a society that still too often frames disability as tragedy, dependence as burden, and support as sacrifice. When a non-disabled child is killed by a parent, the act is universally condemned. When the victim is disabled, public conversations sometimes shift. Words like “mercy,” “understandable,” or “relief” enter the discussion. That shift reveals something about whose lives are assumed to be fully valuable.

Disabled people grow up hearing — directly and indirectly — that our needs are too much, that our futures are limited, that our existence creates strain. Some are told outright that they should not exist, or should not reproduce, or are better off dead. Those messages accumulate.

Learning from What We’ve Seen

In 1993, twelve-year-old Tracy Latimer, who had cerebral palsy, was killed by her father. Medical interventions that could have addressed her pain had been offered and declined. Residential care had been offered and declined. After his conviction, public polling showed significant sympathy for him, with many describing the act as “mercy.”

The language we use matters. It shapes what we see.

None of this means that families are the enemy. Many parents and caregivers advocate fiercely for their disabled loved ones. Many work tirelessly to ensure access, dignity, and opportunity. Their care deserves recognition and respect.

But on this day, we hold space for those who were not protected.

We remember that disability itself is not the tragedy. Lack of support is tragic. Isolation is tragic. Cultural narratives that frame some lives as less worth living are tragic. Violence is tragic.

Disabled lives are not.

Today, We Remember The Names

And we recommit to building a world where disability is understood as part of human diversity, where support is not framed as a burden, and where every disabled person’s life is treated as inherently valuable.

Here are some ways that you can remember today and through the year:

• Visit the Disability Day of Mourning website

• Challenge the word “mercy” when it’s used to describe violence.

• Support disabled-led advocacy.

• Join ASAN’s Virtual Vigil at 6pm ET: