A City worth arriving in: Addressing LGBTQI+ refugee homelessness in Toronto

When I arrived in Toronto as a Black queer refugee, I came searching for what so many others seek: safety. A place where I can live authentically, without fear of violence or persecution. A place where I can finally exhale.

Toronto is often seen as a sanctuary for LGBTQI+ newcomers. But what I—and many others—have learned is that safety and housing stability are not guaranteed, especially for those navigating the refugee claimant process. Finding secure housing is one of the most urgent and challenging steps in rebuilding our lives.

The City of Toronto’s 2024 Street Needs Assessment (SNA), the city’s official homelessness report, confirms what many advocates already know: 2SLGBTQIA+ people are significantly over-represented in the city’s homeless population. This recognition is important. Yet, for LGBTQI+ refugees—many of whom are racialized—the picture is still incomplete.

What the data misses

The SNA collects data on 2SLGBTQIA+ individuals and refugees. However, it does not report on the experiences of people who exist at the intersection of these identities. This omission limits our understanding of the unique challenges faced by LGBTQI+ refugees—especially Black and racialized claimants—who often arrive with limited access to income, housing, or community support.

Many have fled homophobic or transphobic persecution only to experience new forms of exclusion and trauma upon arrival. When data fails to reflect these overlapping realities, policies and programs risk being ineffective or misdirected.

Shelter is not synonymous with safety for LGBTQI+ refugees

While the SNA identifies who uses shelter services, it does not assess how safe individuals feel in these spaces. For many queer and trans refugees, shelters are not affirming environments. Experiences of misgendering, misunderstanding, or discrimination are common. “Safety is not just the absence of violence, but the presence of belonging” .

Research done by Alex Abramovich reveals that trans and gender-diverse individuals—particularly youth and newcomers—face heightened risks of harassment and exclusion in shelter settings. As a result, some are forced to conceal their identities “for their own safety.”

The need for intersectional analysis and policy

The SNA acknowledges the disproportionate number of racialized people experiencing homelessness. However, it does not explore how racialization intersects with refugee status and LGBTQI+ identity. This is a crucial gap. Intersectionality is not merely an academic concept. It must be a foundational lens in public policy. This approach ensures that services reflect how people actually live.

Inclusive housing policy: What we must do next

While the 2024 SNA provides a strong starting point, more inclusive and responsive strategies are needed to address LGBTQI+ refugee homelessness in Toronto. The following actions can help.

Expand data collection: Future assessments should include refugee claimant and immigration status with disaggregated data by gender identity, sexual orientation, and race.
Invest in LGBTQI+ refugee-affirming housing: Safe, culturally competent housing programs, such as Pacewood—which is led by The 519—need increased funding and expansion.
Create trauma-informed shelter environments: Shelter staff should receive consistent training in anti-racism, cultural humility, and gender-affirming care to ensure safety and dignity for all residents.
Center lived experience in housing strategy: LGBTQI+ refugees must be integrated into the design, implementation, and evaluation of housing programs. The community-based approach used by The 519 in developing Pacewood is a promising model.

A City that lives up to its promise

I believe in the promise of Toronto. It is my home. I’ve seen how compassion, policy, and community-driven leadership can come together to create real change here.

The 2024 Street Needs Assessment offers a clearer view of who is experiencing homelessness in this city. But it also presents an invitation: to dig deeper, to listen more closely, and to respond more intentionally.

By collecting inclusive data, listening to lived experience, and investing in dignified housing, we move closer to a city where LGBTQI+ refugees are not just surviving, but thriving and belonging.

Because home should not be the last thing we find—it should be the first.