Abstract
Police-reported hate crimes in Canada doubled from 2019 to 2023. Hate crimes and incidents significantly harm survivors of hate crimes and incidents and their communities. While research documents the underreporting of hate crimes and incidents, what is less understood are the experiences of survivors who report hate crimes and incidents. To explore this matter, we conducted a qualitative descriptive Community-Based Participatory Research (CBPR) study, interviewing 18 participants between February and May 2022 who had reported hate crimes and incidents to organizations in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada over the past five years. They shared several insights. First, how organizations respond to reports of hate crimes and incidents does not reliably meet the needs of people victimized by these occurrences and can significantly impact survivors. Second, understandings and experiences of hate crimes and incidents, and how organizations respond to them, are based on lived experiences of historical and ongoing systemic and societal discrimination. Third, interpersonal relationships, existing knowledge and beliefs, and previous experiences influence people’s choices to report a hate crime or incident. These insights have implications for organizations and governments supporting survivors of hate crimes and incidents. Timely, consistent, victim-centred, evidence-based services that address systemic gaps must be a priority.
Keywords
Background
The context of hate crimes and related research in Canada
Hate crime legislation emerged in Canada in 1970 (Corb, 2015). However, a cursory review of various databases suggests that hate crimes and incidents were hardly researched in Canada before 1988, primarily associated with the conviction of Albertan high school teacher James Keegstra for teaching antisemitic conspiracy theories and Holocaust denial in his classroom (McCoy et al., 2019). As a relatively new crime type in Canadian legislation and an underreported phenomenon (Canadian Race Relations Foundation, 2022; Erentzen and Schuller, 2020), much research is yet to be completed on the unique context of hate crimes and incidents in Canada.
Hate crimes are challenging to describe, and definitions vary internationally and among local jurisdictions (Alberta Hate Crimes Committee, 2009; Chakraborti, 2015). Even among police officers who ultimately need to assess and charge individuals with hate crimes, there is a lack of familiarity or confidence with this concept (Perry and Samuels-Wortley, 2021). Perry (2001: 10) offers this definition: Acts of violence and intimidation, usually directed toward already stigmatized and marginalized groups. As such, [hate crimes are] a mechanism of power, intended to reaffirm the precarious hierarchies that characterize a given social order. It attempts to recreate simultaneously the threatened (real or imagined) hegemony of the perpetrator’s group and the appropriate subordinate identity of the victim’s group.
This definition highlights the interconnection between the perpetration of hate crimes and the societal context from which they emerge. However, scholarship and legislation throughout the world face challenges in defining, understanding, recording and addressing the term ‘hate crime’ (Chakraborti, 2015). Some scholars point out the weaknesses of a legal definition of hate crime in jurisdictions like Canada by suggesting that legal definitions of hate crimes individualize these behaviours instead of locating them socio-politically in contexts of power imbalances and inequality or addressing underlying social factors that contribute to hate (Ashley, 2018; Bell and Perry, 2015; Iganski, 2008; Mercier-Dalphond and Helly, 2021; Perry, 2001). Further, Mercier-Dalphond and Helly (2021) argued that hate crime definitions fail to recognize the cumulative impacts of repeated, often daily, exposure to harassment for individuals and communities, and do not adequately address online hate crimes.
In the Criminal Code of Canada (Criminal Code, RSC, C-46, 1985), five charges are associated with hate crimes: Section 318(1): Advocating genocide; Section 319(1): Public incitement of hatred; Section 319(2): Willful promotion of hatred; Section 319(2.1) Willful promotion of antisemitism; and Section 430(4.1): Mischief relating to religious property, educational institutions, and so on. Further, the 718.2ai sentencing principle allows the court to increase sentencing if the prosecution proves that an offence was motivated by hate or bias. Some scholars point out the weaknesses of legal definitions of hate crime in Canada, while some call for a standalone hate crime definition to respond to some of these challenges (Ashley, 2018; Camp, 2021; Swiffen, 2018).
Yet, Bell and Perry (2015) observed that many noncriminal acts motivated by hate still cause significant harm and should be taken seriously. These noncriminal acts are defined as hate incidents, as articulated by Facing Facts (2012: 9): An act that involves prejudice and bias-motivated by hate, based on race, national or ethnic origin, language, colour, religion, sex, age, mental or physical disability, sexual orientation, or any other similar factor but which does not amount to a crime.
While the definition of hate crimes and incidents are thoroughly interrogated in academia and institutions, it is less clear how survivors of these occurrences conceptualize these experiences, or how these understandings influence their decisions to report these experiences. Within the relatively limited Canadian literature about hate crimes and incidents, we are not aware of other studies that examine how organizations respond to reports of hate crimes from the perspective of hate crime survivors. Literature from other countries, such as the United Kingdom and the United States, is included to strengthen the rationale of the study and better contextualize its findings.
Impacts of hate crimes and incidents on individuals and communities
Research identifies impacts of hate crime on direct victims that include increased physical, psychological, and behavioural injuries compared to other crimes (Iganski and Lagou, 2015). Impacts of hate crimes can include psychological trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder, anger, annoyance, depression, panic attacks, trouble sleeping, and loss of confidence at higher rates than crimes not motivated by hate (Fetzer and Pezzella, 2019; Iganski and Lagou, 2015; Paterson et al., 2019). Holder (2024) suggests that, while an initial occurrence may not be more physically injurious than other crime types, complainants are more likely to report greater physical and emotional harm than survivors of other crime types later on. Another common impact of experiencing a hate crime is behavioural change, that may include moving homes, distrusting others, being highly alert, removing religious garb and symbols, no longer expressing affection with partners in public, and no longer attending places of worship or speaking in public (Government of Wales, 2020; Iganski and Lagou, 2015; Paterson et al., 2019). Paterson et al. (2019) further illustrated both short- and longer-term impacts of hate crimes on direct and indirectly impacted individuals and communities. Considering that we conducted our interviews between February and May 2022 during the Covid-19 pandemic, Wenger et al. (2022) observed that experiences of hate crimes and higher perceived personal risk of Covid-19 predicted higher depressive symptoms.
Hate crimes and incidents can also substantially impact members of the affected community (Paterson et al., 2019; Perry and Alvi, 2011). Racialized people, especially people who are Black, tend to have the highest fear of experiencing hate crimes in Canada (Chongatera, 2013). Hate crimes send an exclusionary message to communities that experience marginalization (Perry, 2001). Perry and Alvi (2011) and Paterson et al. (2019) studied reactions to hate crimes targeting a community member and found that study participants experienced behavioural changes, emotional and psychological harm and reactions, reduced safety, fear, vulnerability, suspicion, shame, a sense of being unwelcome, and fear and distrust towards the community of the perpetrator. The sense of distrust related to the fact that other people in the community did not intervene to stop the incident, and, consequently, a similar incident could happen to participants themselves or other community members as well (Perry and Alvi, 2011). In addition to the fear of other people in the perpetrator’s community, indirect victims of hate crimes identified feeling a lack of belonging, a desire for revenge, and doubts about a nation’s multiculturalism and tolerance, especially as they did not perceive themselves as having the same rights as others (Perry and Alvi, 2011). Communities indirectly impacted by hate crimes may also have increased empathy, reduced victim blaming, and increased motivation for helping behaviours (Paterson et al., 2024; Perry and Alvi, 2011).
Direct and indirect impacts of hate crimes on individuals and communities are substantial, but more investigation is needed to understand the ways organizations respond to these impactful occurrences if survivors report them.
Underreporting of hate crimes and incidents
Underreporting of hate crimes is a key area of inquiry within research on hate crimes in Canada and elsewhere. The Statistics Canada General Social Survey found that there were 223,000 self-reported hate-motivated incidents in Canada in 2019, with only 22% reported to police (as cited in Statistics Canada, 2025). When speaking to 21 Muslim women who disclosed 30 incidents of Islamophobic violence, Ahmad (2019) found that participants reported only three occurrences to the police.
The reasons why people do not report hate crimes vary and include but are not limited to, not knowing how or where to report, confusing reporting processes, humiliation, fear of jeopardizing their immigration status, language barriers, lack of support systems, privacy concerns, fear of retaliation or negative consequences, concerns about experiencing racism from police, past traumatic experiences of police discrimination, police distrust, a feeling that their concern was not serious enough to report, having one’s gender identity questioned, and a lack of faith in the efficacy of police or that the perpetrator would be prosecuted (Alberta Hate Crimes Committee, 2023; Angeles and Roberton, 2020; Erentzen and Schuller, 2020; Gyamerah et al., 2021; Ngo et al., 2023; Statistics Canada, 2025; Urbanik et al., 2023). Powers et al. (2020) indicate that the race of both the person who was victimized and the person who perpetrated a crime is necessary to consider in predicting if crimes are reported when motivated by hate or another factor. Statistics Canada (2025) indicates that decisions to report hate crimes may be impacted by world events, social movements, community awareness, and local police expertise, while Lantz et al. (2022) explored the role of offence severity in victim decision-making processes to report both hate and non-hate-motivated crimes. There are many reasons why survivors of hate crimes may or may not choose to report hate crimes and incidents, but further research is needed to understand how organizations respond when survivors report their experiences, especially in Canada.
Policing and criminal justice system approaches to hate crimes and incidents in Canada
In addition to underreporting, hate crime clearance is also another challenging area in Canada, where less than one-third of hate crimes were cleared in 2023, compared to a 34% overall clearance rate for all non-traffic criminal incidents (Statistics Canada, 2025). Currently Canadian police officers must receive written consent from the attorney general before proceeding with some hate crime charges (Corb, as cited in Hardy and Chakraborti, 2020: 29). This process can lead to delays in cases and low prosecutions. Moreover, the ways that the police in Canada address hate crimes are affected by the ambiguity of existing hate crime legislation and challenges in prosecution, as there are not always effective working relationships between hate crimes units and prosecutors (Perry and Samuels-Wortley, 2021).
A lack of trust between police and communities may limit the kind of collaboration, dialogue, and information-sharing necessary for police to address hate crimes in a way that reflects the voices of community members (Perry and Samuels-Wortley, 2021). Organizational factors, including leadership, policy, hate crime portfolios, and communication also impact how police respond to hate crimes. Cultural and enforcement-oriented biases held by police, lack of understanding of hate crimes, and training limitations further affect responses to hate crimes. Perry (2010) discussed how training on hate crimes among police services in Canada was typically sporadic and brief, often using one-time, online self-directed modules with a duration between 45 minutes and 4 hours, which was described as unable to accurately, substantially, and sufficiently educate officers. This complexity in policing and understanding hate crimes is also evident as police services across Canada are not united in their definitions of hate crimes (Alberta Hate Crimes Committee, 2009; Camp, 2021) or in their approach to tracking data (Perry, 2010; Perry and Samuels-Wortley, 2021). Bryan and Trickett (2021) observed differences between how police services approach hate crimes in their policies and their actual responses. They argued that police apply a policing lens that denies, minimizes, or decontextualizes the experiences of people who are victimized instead of using a victim-centred lens despite their victim-centred policies. Bryan (2022) further observed how perceptions of race and racism, as well as personal understandings of hate crimes, impact if and how police investigate hate crimes, meaning that police may not fully grasp the nuances of the experiences of racialized communities. Perry (2010) emphasized the need for police to earn the trust of communities to improve their approach to policing hate crimes, and championed community policing as a practice to achieve this goal.
Swiffen (2018) argued that hate crime laws in Canada and the United States are ambiguous, which makes proving a hate motivation difficult. Swiffen (2018) documented criticism of hate crimes legislation for being too narrowly applied, while others critiqued existing hate crimes-related legislation for being restrictive and consequently unable to address hate effectively (Muszynski and Gassim, 2014). For instance, Provost-Yombo et al. (2020) found that Section 718.2(a)(i), allowing the court to increase sentencing if the prosecution proves that an offence was motivated by hate or bias, was successfully applied a total of 31 times across Canada in a span of 12 years. This low rate of successful application may connect with a prevalent rationale in hate crime underreporting; namely, that police or prosecutors may not be effective in their response (Alberta Hate Crimes Committee, 2023; Angeles and Roberton, 2020; Erentzen and Schuller, 2020; Gyamerah et al., 2021; Ngo et al., 2023; Statistics Canada, 2025; Urbanik et al., 2023).
While this information helps clarify challenges police and the criminal justice system face in addressing, clearing, and prosecuting hate crimes, additional insight is needed to understand how survivors of hate crimes experience police and legal interventions in these issues, or lack thereof.
Addressing the needs of survivors of hate crimes and incidents
In 2022, the Canadian Race Relations Foundation (CRRF) independently assessed services for survivors of hate crimes and incidents nationwide. They observed that services are not proportionate in terms of consistency, quality, or quantity to the needs of survivors of hate crimes and incidents. Siloing, fragmentation, and inconsistent services can significantly impact survivors. These findings support Camp’s (2022) call for a transdisciplinary approach to supporting survivors of hate crimes and incidents. The Alberta Hate Crimes Committee (2023) found that 50% of Albertan participants who reported a hate crime or incident had a negative reporting experience. Participants in Urbanik et al.’s (2023) study of anti-homeless and anti-Indigenous violence shared that the police did not always intervene or respond seriously to reports of violence, and perceived that the police protected members of a hate group carrying out this violence.
When people’s experiences are not understood or addressed as hate crimes, this can have substantial consequences for the person who was victimized: ‘for those who are targeted, the process of being recognized (or not recognized) as a hate crime victim can have life-changing consequences in the context of harrowing experiences which go unnoticed, unchallenged, and unsupported’ (Wertans and Chakraborti, 2024: 13). Research from the United Kingdom and the United States also investigated the experiences of those who report hate crimes. The Leicester Hate Crime Project (Chakraborti et al., 2014) engaged with over 4,000 participants to understand people’s experiences of hate crimes, the harms caused by these experiences, and ways to improve support for people victimized by hate crimes. Only a quarter of participants had reported their victimization to the police, and only half had reported it to anyone. Over half (55%) of the respondents were reasonably satisfied with the police response, while over a third (35%) were dissatisfied. Participants most significantly affected by a hate crime or who experienced hate-motivated violence were more likely to be dissatisfied with a police response. Participants who expressed satisfaction with their responses valued the police’s follow-up and support. Dissatisfied participants noted that the police did not take their concerns seriously, did not follow up, and that officers were rude. Fitch-Bartlett and Healy (2022), in their evaluation of third-party reporting services for victims of hate crimes in the United Kingdom, found that these services helped increase awareness of hate crimes in the community; however, trained volunteer advisors commonly lacked understanding and knowledge about hate crimes, and these services still required further promotion. In their UK-based qualitative study, Russell et al. (2025) detailed how two of twelve participants had reported a hate crime to the police, and neither received follow-ups after reporting their experiences. In their American study alongside trans participants, Gauthier et al. (2021) found that most participants felt law enforcement facilitated an environment where hate crimes against them felt normal, more likely to happen, and challenging to report. Participants in Gauthier et al.’s (2021) study described broader experiences of police violence against them beyond their hate crime reporting experiences, including being misgendered and verbally and physically assaulted. Some participants in Gauthier et al.’s (2021) research described the police harassing or victimizing them while reporting a hate crime, not taking their reports seriously, or blaming them for their own victimization. While these findings are foundational to understanding how reports of hate crimes are responded to, there is a need for a more detailed understanding of how a variety of organizations respond to reports of both hate crimes and incidents from the perspective of the survivor who made the report.
Current study and research questions
The previous section contextualized a number of elements associated with hate crimes from the perspectives of survivors, related to the impacts of these crimes, their underreporting, and police and legal responses to reports of hate crimes. However, the survivor experience of reporting a hate crime or incident and how organizations respond to these reports is not fully clear and warrants further exploration, especially considering calls to centre the experiences of hate crime survivors in policy and practice intended to support them (Burch, 2024; Iganski, 2008). As such, the research questions guiding this inquiry were: What are the experiences of people who report hate crimes and/or incidents to organizations in a Canadian city? How do individuals who have reported hate crimes and/or incidents experience organizational responses to these reports? What are the policy and practice implications of these experiences for organizations that respond to hate crimes and/or incidents?
Methods
Community-Based Participatory Research is a collaborative and equitable research approach (Janzen and Ochocka, 2020). It brings researchers and community members together to address social inequities concerning community members (Janzen and Ochocka, 2020). As such, community-based approaches are well suited to investigate the reporting of hate crimes and incidents to organizations (Burch, 2024). For years before the study, we collaborated with a local group of organizations active in furthering equity and human rights. These partners guided the development of the research purpose and design. They were instrumental in the recruitment and compensation of participants. Partners engaged with the research and insights throughout its duration. In addition, we incorporated an anti-oppressive and trauma-informed research practice in this study. More details about our approach to CBPR in this study is the subject of a separate article (Turlock and Mayan, 2023).
A descriptive qualitative research method is the most appropriate to answer the stated research questions because it may provide a basic summary and description of the studied phenomenon (Sandalowski, as cited in Mayan, 2023: 71). Healy (2020) also noted that a qualitative methodological approach captures hate crimes’ emotional and psychological impacts.
Recruitment
As research partners, we prepared a recruitment social media graphic, email, and script that community partners used to recruit participants. Considering our research sample, the realities of the COVID-19 pandemic impacting our data collection from February to May 2022, and our community partners’ extensive connections within communities and organizations interfacing with hate crimes and incidents, this was an appropriate recruitment strategy. Study participants also recommended additional participants with similar experiences, incorporating snowball sampling. We conducted two recruitment rounds to interview enough participants to explore concepts that arose during concurrent analysis and achieve saturation. We recruited 18 participants who met the following criteria: participants were 18 years old or older; spoke English, or spoke a language that community partners could translate, or had access to someone to translate; and had reported hate crimes or incidents to organizations in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada within the last five years.
Sampling
Consistent with a descriptive qualitative method, sampling in this study was purposeful (Sandalowski, as cited in Mayan, 2023: 71). The participants were heterogenous in their identities, the hate crimes and incidents they experienced, and the organizations to which they reported the hate crimes they experienced. As such, their shared experiences and reporting of hate crimes and incidents helped us achieve saturation and understand the phenomenon. Qualitative studies examining the impacts of hate crimes and discrimination in Canada and the United Kingdom had sample sizes ranging from 10 to 15 participants (Bell and Perry, 2015; de Koninck and Lauridsen, 2018; Healy, 2020; Russell et al., 2025). Thus, our sample size of 18 was consistent with similar Canadian and UK studies.
Data generation
We completed 20 semi-structured interviews with 18 participants over five months. Due to sensitivity about being targeted due to their identities, the participants were offered opportunities to share their demographic information as it was pertinent to the interview but were not asked to complete demographic questionnaires. Ten participants were men, six were women, one was non-binary, and one was gender-fluid. Two participants shared that they were gay. Participants identified as Indigenous (n = 6), Black (n = 3), otherwise racialized (n = 2), White (n = 1), or did not specify their racial identity (n = 6). Three were Muslim, but no one else shared their religious identity. Two participants identified as newcomers to Canada.
Before each interview, we provided the participants with a consent and information form, a resource list of organizations available to support people impacted by hate crimes and incidents, and the interview guide. We reviewed the consent form together before the interviews began to ensure informed consent and voluntary participation. Because data collection occurred during the COVID-19 pandemic, all but one participant opted to conduct interviews virtually over a secure platform or on the phone. Interviews ranged from 15 to 50 minutes in length. Questions covered: how individuals became aware of organizations they reported their experiences to; what their expectations were when making the report; how organizations responded to these reports; the impact of these responses; and how an ideal response to a report of a hate crime or incident should look. Additional questioning explored how participants defined hate crimes and incidents. We used prompts and further questions to clarify responses. To compensate the participants for their involvement in the study, we gave them each a $50 gift card. We contacted all the participants within 24 hours after their interview to check in and make ourselves available to answer questions or connect them with supports. We also offered them opportunities to participate in follow-up interviews. One participant opted to do so, engaging in two additional brief interviews to update us about the status of the reporting process and additional insights.
Analysis
Consistent with a descriptive qualitative method, we decided that qualitative content analysis was a coherent approach to analysing the data gathered in this study (Sandalowski, as cited in Mayan, 2023: 71). This form of content analysis involves identifying, coding, categorizing, and theming the recurring or predominant elements of the data (Mayan, 2023). As Mayan (2023) described, coding first involved an in-depth reading and re-reading of the transcribed interviews to identify recurring or underlying patterns. We then highlighted sections of the text related to patterns, which we categorized while looking out for negative cases (Mayan, 2023; Morse et al., 2002). Consistent with a CBPR approach (Janzen and Ochocka, 2020), we reviewed draft findings and recommendations with the participants and research partners to ensure validity and accuracy.
Ethics and rigour
Hate crimes and incidents have significant, harmful direct and indirect impacts on people (Bell and Perry, 2015; Iganski and Lagou, 2015; Mercier-Dalphond and Helly, 2021). Recognizing the sensitive nature of the study and the fact that it involves human participants, an ethical approach was paramount at all points in this research. The research project received research ethics approval. In addition, the research partners provided feedback on ethical approaches to the research that led to a more trauma-informed and culturally aware approach to the study, including input on the interview guide, development of a resource list to provide to participants, and the ability to offer interpretation during interviews.
Lincoln and Guba’s concepts of credibility, transferability, dependability, and confirmability (as cited in Mayan, 2023: 226) guided this study’s adherence to rigour. According to Janzen and Ochocka (2020), research rigour is partially achieved in CBPR by selecting appropriate research methods. This observation is consistent with Mayan’s (2023) discussions of methodological coherence as a method of research verification. Our research approach aligns with other Canadian and UK studies that also examined hate crimes (Healy, 2020; Mercier-Dalphond and Helly, 2021; Russell et al., 2025). Further, we strengthened our research rigour through adherence to credibility by, for example, engaging with our community partners and the field of preventing hate-motivated violence for a prolonged period that spanned from 2018 to data collection in 2022 (Lincoln and Guba, as cited in Mayan, 2023: 226; Morse et al., 2002). Research partners discussed and verified findings and recommendations throughout the data analysis. For instance, the participants also provided feedback on these findings and recommendations after analysis. This approach aligns with Janzen and Ochocka’s (2020) recommendations for CBPR rigour and trustworthiness.
The practice of member checking also aligns with Lincoln and Guba’s concept of credibility and confirmability (as cited in Mayan, 2023: 226). We maintained a journal to establish research rigour through critical reflection while contributing to rigour through dependability (Mayan, 2023). Journaling, in addition to discussions of methodological coherence and data collection alongside research partners, contributed to reflective practice (Nencel, 2014). This process also allowed the researchers to adopt additional lines of inquiry as they emerged. Transferability may be challenging to ensure because the specifics of local service experiences may not transfer directly to different services in other locales and cultural contexts. However, a thick description of the setting and participants will contribute to transferability and allow individuals in other settings to apply the findings when appropriate (Mayan, 2023).
Findings
The participants in this research shared three main insights. First, the way organizations handle reports of hate crimes and incidents often does not effectively address the needs of those affected and can significantly impact survivors. Second, perceptions and experiences of hate crimes, as well as organizational responses, are rooted in lived experiences shaped by historical and ongoing systemic and societal discrimination. Third, interpersonal relationships, existing knowledge and beliefs, and past experiences play a role in individuals’ awareness of organizations and decisions to report a hate crime or incident.
Unreliable responses to reports of hate crimes and incidents
Participants and their supports reported hate crimes and incidents to community non-profit organizations (n = 7), a community leader (n = 1), a healthcare provider (n = 2), lawyers (n = 3), media (n = 1), an ombudsperson (n = 1), the police (n = 14), the police’s professional standards branch (n = 2), politicians (n = 1), psychologists (n = 2), a professional regulatory body (n = 1), a religious leader (n = 1), social media (n = 1), a support group (n = 1), a third-party reporting option (n = 1), or a transit operator (n = 2). Of the 14 participants who reported to police, only two did not report to an additional, non-policing organization.
Participants reported a range of hate crimes and incidents, including assault, doxing, online and in-person harassment, death threats, discriminatory insults and slurs, neglect and abuse in healthcare and foster care, police intimidation and profiling, rape, sexual assault, and stalking. Ten of the participants reported experiences of physical violence, with a further two reporting threats of physical violence. While severity or criminality of the occurrence (for example, an assault versus a yelled slur) seemed more likely to result in initial response to the occurrence from the organization reported to, severity and criminality did not seem to result in more consistent or positive outcomes for participants. However, these conclusions might be clearer in a larger sample size. Across diverse incidents, the ways organizations respond to reports of hate crimes and incidents do not reliably meet the needs of people victimized by these occurrences and can significantly impact these individuals, and this inconsistency was witnessed throughout responses from all responding organizations.
The participants had a range of hopes when they first decided to report their experience of a hate crime or incident. These hopes included stopping the harm facing themselves or others, seeking justice, and raising awareness about the issue so that it could be documented and addressed. They hoped perpetrators would be investigated, held accountable, and recognize the harm caused by their actions. They hoped for advocacy, support reporting to the police, financial aid, and assistance with mental, physical, and housing needs: I was thinking they could in a way help me reach out to the police. So maybe then my offenders could be brought to book . . . I was also hoping they could render some mental health services to me.
The responses participants hoped for were often different from the ones they received. Overall, the responses were more complex than simply positive or negative interactions, and organizations commonly responded in ways that did and, at the same time, did not meet the survivors’ needs. In all but three of the eighteen interviews, a participant reported to multiple organizations and staff before their needs were met at a minimal level, if at all. Five participants reported to one organization, five reported to two, five reported to three, and three participants reported to four organizations, further demonstrating how much effort they had to put in to the reporting process to receive satisfactory results, if that was achieved at all.
Positive organization responses
In circumstances where the participants were most satisfied with the organization’s response, they were listened to, believed, taken seriously, and not judged or shamed. The organization had addressed the matter promptly and was victim-centred: They continuously [provided] counselling, pursuing in my case, making sure everything was going smoothly and they were of great assistance to me. I really appreciate them for that.
Responding organizations provided participants access to safety planning and appropriate services or referrals, including mental and physical healthcare, housing and relocation, identification, and legal assistance. Non-police organizations assisted participants in reporting to the police when requested. Still, they did not pressure participants to make further reports if they did not wish to.
In situations specific to police that were positively perceived by the participants, the police responded promptly, took statements, and believed the participant. The police worked to find the perpetrator, made decisions in collaboration with the participant, provided regular follow-up, and made referrals to internal support like victim services. In some cases, the police apprehended perpetrators and held them accountable in ways that incorporated the participant’s wishes.
When responses like these happened from police and non-police organizations, the participants identified feeling satisfied, grateful, hopeful, listened to, relieved, and had increased confidence in responses from organizations and the reporting process: ‘I felt confident. I felt that things were working out, as I planned at first. I felt that they were doing the right thing’. In addition, they felt a sense of safety for themselves and others, that they were not alone, and that they could keep going.
Negative organizational responses
In contrast, many organizational responses had negative impacts on the participants. Such experiences included being ignored or disbelieved, being discouraged from reporting and facing discrimination and disrespect in a culturally unsafe environment. The participants shared that responding organizations had laughed at and victim-blamed them for the incident. Organizations had also told them that their experience was not severe enough to justify a response or that what they had experienced was not a crime:
And [the bus driver] said, ‘Well, by the time I get, like, get a hold of the cops and the cops get here, there’s not much that . . . they’d be able to do.’ He said, ‘if you really want to, since we’re downtown, you can just walk over to the precinct and make a report and file a complaint. And maybe they could do something about it’. So I did . . . I walked over to the downtown precinct. And, like, this is what really messed with my head was because when I walked up to the counter, like, I went to tell the cop that was there what had happened. And I was like, ‘Yeah, I’d like to file a complaint’. And he was like, ‘Okay, we can, we can definitely file a complaint. But to tell you the truth, like, with everything that’s going on right now, I don’t think anything’s gonna come of it. And it’s just going to be kind of a waste of time for both of us to fill out all this paperwork’.
The participants often received no or little follow-up or delayed responses that took months or years. Reporting procedures were sometimes complex, demanding, and inaccessible. Some organizations were unaware of appropriate referrals. The participants faced confusing staffing changes, mistakes, disorganization, being sent back and forth between services, and decisions that did not align with their wishes. Perpetrators were not investigated or apprehended. When participants filed complaints about professional conduct, organizations seemed to protect the subject(s) of the complaint instead of the survivor. Due to responses from organizations that did not ensure their safety, some participants faced harassment from those they had filed complaints against: ‘there was nothing to prepare me for what happened where I got slandered, online bullied, and I got harassed and stalked. So I felt, even then, I wasn’t given the proper care’.
Negative responses impacted the participants’ beliefs, including a loss of faith in authorities and the reporting process and a loss of local pride. Others developed beliefs that Canada was unjust, they were not valued, and that justice was not available to them. They further began to perceive that they would continue to be unsafe and that those who perpetrated hate crimes or incidents could do so without facing the consequences of their actions. One participant shared the experience of being disbelieved and deprioritized, stating: You’re playing with hope in a system and hope in humanity when you fuck stuff like that up, and we’re talking about faith in humanity for people who just lost it all because of a hate crime. You’re trying to restore broken things with care and being gentle, and tons and tons of love and understanding, like none of these organizations know what that is. This is a people problem . . . To do it differently, remember that there’s fucking people at the end of your phone call.
Negative responses also resulted in behavioural and psychological impacts. Some participants abandoned their reports altogether. Physical and psychological impacts from the original crime or incident remained untreated. Participants experienced retraumatization, financial losses, online harassment, and suicidality.
A participant shared their experience and hopes for how organizations could improve: ‘I’d like them to know what it feels like . . . when people feel just disappointed . . . I want them to know that, like, ‘Yo, we don’t feel heard’. We just feel defeated. And like it’s just a huge disappointment. Like, who cares about us?’ Similarly, many participants experienced significant impacts from how organizations responded to their reports of a hate crime or incident.
Hate crimes and incidents in a context of discrimination
When asked how they defined hate crimes and incidents, most participants answered in ways that were similar to definitions of hate crimes and incidents often used throughout Canada and the world: ‘that has to do with violence, pain inspired by injustice, or, kind of someone being partial to you based on your religion, race, sexual identity or disability’. Participants generally understood hate crimes as crimes targeted towards an individual based on some integral component of their identity, such as religion, ability, race or ethnicity, sexual orientation, and gender identity, but did not communicate about specific criminal offences: ‘It’s motivated by . . . prejudice or a belief that somebody might have against you based off of, you know, race, religion, uh, sex, anything like that, and could be criminal in nature, I guess’.
Almost all the participants situated their experiences of hate crimes and incidents within a social and systemic context of discrimination. They connected historical, intergenerational, and ongoing discriminatory practices and beliefs within their contexts to the hate they experienced when victimized by a hate crime or incident. An Indigenous participant, discussing a broader context of ongoing and historical colonial violence in Canada, shared, ‘So hate . . . was given to me as a child’. They believed ingrained societal beliefs ultimately shaped how organizations uphold and respond to discrimination and hate, often in responses that lack priority or accountability: We can do a lot of conversations and all these different discussions, but there’s no follow-through . . . as I’m talking to hate victims or people who have lost loved ones to violence of racism . . . the buck is being passed around, even on their mental health, on supports, there’s a lot of talk about helping people, but there’s no real action. It looks good on paper. But that’s not the real life.
Many individuals in the same systems to which the participants reported hate crimes or incidents, such as police, healthcare workers, the child welfare system, transit operators, and supportive housing organizations, were also named as perpetrators of hate crimes and incidents in this study: ‘If the system itself was being violent, or people working in a system are being violent, they’re underreported or they’re minimized, but we need something in place to recognize hate within organizations’. Even when participants may have approached one of these organizations to report a hate crime, they sometimes experienced further harm based on their identity. A participant observed this challenging dichotomy: ‘It’s super disappointing because this organization is like specifically to help people . . . and they, I hate to say that they targeted me, but that’s kind of what it felt like’.
Further, many participants identified having regular experiences of hate crimes and incidents, as well as microaggressions and other forms of discrimination throughout their everyday interactions: Because there are a lot of Indigenous people and not just Indigenous, but you know, people like Muslims . . . queer trans people that experience a lot of hate . . . I know, of like five trans women that have been assaulted in [this city’s subway] stations.
This discrimination and lack of prioritization responding to reports of hate crimes and incidents also happened when in contact with various public services, They’re quick to call the cops on a homeless person on the bus, but if something racist happens, they’re like, “I have a schedule to keep”.
Organizational awareness and the decision to report a hate crime or incident
Interpersonal relationships, existing knowledge and beliefs, and previous experiences influence the choice to report a hate crime or incident. Despite the many parties they reported to, the participants often expressed limited reporting options: ‘That was the only organization available’.
The participants were aware of the organizations they reported to for a few reasons. First, the organization was a widely accessed public service or platform (i.e. police, public transit, healthcare, media, social media). Of eighteen interviewees, fourteen connected with police as at least one of the organizations they reported their experience to: ‘So I reported to the police service, and, um, it’s just a public service . . . They just let you know, like, if there’s any issues, you can report things to the police’. Second, they were already familiar with or previously involved with the organization through previous service access, volunteering, or social media. Third, they were aware of the organization due to a referral by a trusted person, such as a friend, family member, co-worker, or professional.
The participants detailed repeated experiences of hate crimes and incidents throughout their lives and often had to decide which ones to report: ‘We’re kind of used to these kind of things’. Several factors motivated them not to report the crime or incident. These included a lack of awareness about the reporting processes, a trusted person discouraging them from reporting, or a need to focus on recovery from the occurrence or other commitments.
I didn’t know how to proceed with this complaint because, who the fuck does? So, I called a bunch of lawyers . . . and found one that was like, ‘Oh, yeah, write this all out. I will help you get this done like, I will make it sound good in court. And whatever happens after that, then we’ll talk about it’. And I just haven’t had the time or the space between dealing with the aftermath of this incident this entire time.
Others did not report because they believed they would not receive an adequate response, that organizations handling these reports were racist, or that what they had experienced was not serious enough to report. For example, a participant stated: I don’t like to report everything because wait till I get, like, shot or stabbed up, then maybe they’ll take me seriously . . . but if they’re just name calling, I’m not gonna report a concern. I don’t want to, like, I’m scared that after a while, they won’t take me seriously.
Another participant observed the lack of confidence community members have in the efficacy of reporting a hate crime or incident: I feel for the . . . women that I’ve kind of . . . stood up for because when I’m like, ‘Let’s go do something about it’. They’re like, ‘Why? They’re not going to do anything’. And it’s like . . . for like those women to feel defeated like that . . . Because, like, people don’t feel safe or like they don’t feel like anything’s going to get done about this racism that happens.
When the participants chose to report a hate crime or incident, this choice was influenced by several factors. These included: the seriousness or frequency of the occurrence (for example, someone was harmed, a weapon was involved, or the situation was recurring), a pre-existing connection with the organization, encouragement from a trusted person, and a desire to protect others.
Discussion
Our study was unique among Canadian studies on hate crimes and relatively novel internationally for focusing on how survivors of hate crimes and incidents experience responses to their reports of being victimized. Our study provided insights into how survivors conceptualize hate crimes and incidents, their decisions to report these experiences, how organizations did and did not respond to these reports, and the impacts of these responses on survivors.
Consistencies with and expansions upon existing research
The insights provided were mostly consistent with existing studies about decisions to report hate crimes and incidents. It resonated with what other studies (Alberta Hate Crimes Committee, 2023; Angeles and Roberton, 2020; Erentzen and Schuller, 2020; Gauthier et al., 2021; Russell et al., 2025; St-Amant et al., 2023; Walfield et al., 2017) have found about concerns regarding racism and inadequate responses to hate crimes, but a small sample size and limited demographic information about survivors or perpetrators was available to compare findings to the work of Powers et al. (2020).
This study further substantiates findings from other studies that indicate self-defined experiences of hate crimes and incidents are commonplace, even daily, for many people (Muszynski and Gassim, 2014; Ngo et al., 2023; Urbanik et al., 2023). However, our study also expanded our understanding of the factors survivors consider when deciding to report these experiences. We described, for example, how social connections informed decisions to report hate crimes and incidents in the context of survivors’ recovery and other priorities, substantiated by Canan et al. (2024) and Kutateladze (2022). Our findings also suggest that severity can influence the decision to report hate crimes, aligning with findings by Kutateladze (2022) and Lantz et al. (2022). However, consistent with Lantz et al. (2022), many individuals perceive hate crimes as important to report regardless of their severity.
Angeles and Roberton (2020) found that participants did not generally report hate crimes to the police, relying instead on support like friends, family, partners, social media, mental health services, community centres, and local businesses. Canan et al. (2024) suggested survivors of hate crimes may also report to friends, dating partners, and counsellors, while Russell et al. (2025) found that many survivors of hate crimes were generally unaware of third-party reporting options but would access them in the future. Our study expands our understanding of the breadth of organizations to which survivors report hate crimes and incidents, the substantial variation in how organizations respond to these reports, and the role that non-police organizations may play in helping survivors of hate crimes report their experiences to police, which was not made clear in previous studies. These responses have the potential to meet survivors’ needs but are still inconsistent. Services external to police may seem safer or more approachable to some survivors of hate crimes and incidents. However, aligning with recommendations from the Canadian Race Relations Foundation (2022), there is still an identified need to ensure that all formal support for survivors of hate crimes and incidents have the capacity to either provide reliable, evidence-based, and victim-centred services or facilitate informed referrals to organizations that can provide consistent, quality services.
Our research insights are similar to those from other studies in Canada about the experiences of people who report hate crimes and incidents, as well as racism and discrimination. de Koninck and Lauridsen (2018) also found challenges for people reporting racism and discrimination when accessing services, facing discrimination and racism when reporting, and receiving unsympathetic responses. Our findings also aligned with the Canadian Race Relations Foundation’s (2022) observation that there is a lack of consistent and quality services supporting survivors of hate crimes and incidents. The Alberta Hate Crimes Committee (2023) found that 50% of study participants that reported a hate crime had a negative reporting experience. Together, these findings show that Canadian survivors of hate crimes and incidents have ongoing needs that are not being fully or consistently addressed and require immediate action.
Findings from the United Kingdom and the United States (Chakraborti et al., 2014; Gauthier et al., 2021; Healy, 2020; Russell et al., 2025) resonate with insights from our study, despite differences in the time, locale, and types of organizations receiving reports of hate crimes and incidents. For example, in our study and in Chakraborti et al.’s (2014), participants valued police follow-up and support. However, in work by Chakraborti et al. (2014), Gauthier et al. (2021), Healy (2020), Russell et al. (2025), and our research team, it was found that survivors of hate crimes and incidents have not consistently had their reports taken seriously, saw a lack of follow-up, sometimes experienced violence, and faced unprofessional behaviour. Further, participants in Healy’s (2020) study and ours faced complex reporting processes that often involved more than one staff member or organization, dismissive responses, discouragement from reporting, and discrimination. These consistencies across Canada, the United States and the United Kingdom potentially indicate a recurring, widespread lack of appropriate preparation to address reports of hate crimes and incidents across organizations and countries, as well as similarities in the needs of survivors in different parts of the world.
Finally, our study shares commonalities with community and government guides on supporting survivors of hate crimes and incidents, as well as some previous research. These documents and research identify shared needs for personal safety; practical, emotional, financial, and psychological help; timely responses; justice; and a need to be listened to, believed, taken seriously, and receive guidance (Chaudhry et al., 2023; OSCE Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2020; Pickles, 2021). However, our study is unique in research for beginning to identify the financial and housing needs that survivors may need to have addressed with support from responding organizations, especially considering the financial losses participants sometimes reported and their needs to relocate and find new housing. This insight reveals a need for service providers to be more fully prepared and resourced to anticipate and meet these needs. Further, these findings support Camp’s (2022) call for a transdisciplinary approach to support survivors of hate crimes. This approach is especially appropriate considering the needs for justice, mental and physical healthcare, and financial and housing support identified by participants in this study.
Impacts of responses to hate crimes and incidents
Many studies and guides capture the impacts of hate crimes and incidents (Chaudhry et al., 2023; Iganski and Lagou, 2015; OSCE Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2020; Perry and Alvi, 2011; The Government of Wales, 2020). The impacts of hate crimes and incidents on individuals and communities (Iganski and Lagou, 2015; Perry and Alvi, 2011) are similar to the impacts of responses to reports of hate crimes and incidents that do not meet the needs of survivors, such as adverse mental health outcomes, lack of confidence in institutions and society, and behavioural changes. As such, ineffective or otherwise unsatisfactory responses from organizations recreate or fail to mitigate the harms caused by hate crimes and incidents. This phenomenon is known as ‘secondary victimization’: Victimization that occurs not as a direct result of the criminal act but through the response of institutions and individuals to the victim. This includes, but is not limited to, not recognizing and treating the victim in a respectful manner, an insensitive and unprofessional manner of approaching the victim and discrimination of the victim in any kind. (European Crime Prevention Network, as cited in OSCE Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2020: 13–14)
Based on the above definition, it appears that survivors in our study regularly experienced secondary victimization due to the inconsistent and, at times, harmful responses from the organizations meant to support them. This same observation is shared by the Canadian Race Relations Foundation (2022). However, our study is unique in Canada for demonstrating that secondary victimization occurs for some survivors and the significant impacts of such experiences on survivors’ emotions, beliefs, and behaviours.
Hate crimes and incidents in a context of discrimination
Perry (2001: 10) defines hate crimes and incidents as, ‘a mechanism of power, intended to reaffirm the precarious hierarchies that characterize a given social order’. This understanding connects to the participants’ views in our study. For example, the same discriminatory beliefs encountered during participants’ experiences of hate crimes and incidents were also sometimes encountered when organizations responded to reports of these occurrences. In addition, Mercier-Dalphond and Helly (2021) critique hate crime definitions for not recognizing the cumulative impacts of repeated exposure to harassment for individuals and communities, while Ashley (2018) and Iganski (2008) critique hate crimes legislation for not addressing the underlying social conditions related to hate crimes. Our study further demonstrates that people experience hate crimes and incidents amid recurring social and systemic discrimination.
Interpreting hate crimes and incidents as mechanisms of power (Perry, 2001) is furthered in the recognition that some perpetrators of hate crimes and incidents identified in this study are parts of institutions like policing, healthcare, transit, and social services. This observation demonstrates that these mechanisms of power can be upheld in implicit and explicit social and systemic interactions. This insight has several implications. Most importantly, institutions must recognize and take steps to prevent the reality that their members can and do perpetrate hate crimes and incidents. Second, organizations need to empathize with this lived context of discrimination and take steps to further prevent it in their responses to reports of hate crimes and incidents. Finally, research is needed to better understand how institutions and their members carry out hate crimes and incidents and how to address these realities.
Research in the context of human rights and anti-oppression
This study is contextualized within an anti-oppressive approach. Anti-oppressive research aims to identify and understand oppression in individual, institutional, and systemic circumstances while providing ways to dismantle this oppression (Holley et al., as cited in Bilotta, 2020: 399). The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (1981) states that people have fundamental freedom of conscience and religion, equality before the law, equal protection, and equal benefit of the law without discrimination. However, inconsistent, unreliable, and potentially discriminatory responses to hate crimes and incidents, especially within a legal context, can suggest that survivors of hate crimes are not always afforded equal protection and benefit of the law without discrimination. In addition, the fact that members of institutions were alleged to have perpetrated hate crimes and incidents towards participants in this study suggests that systems are not entirely successful in preventing these harms from occurring. This study is a preliminary examination that supports the need for responses to survivors of hate crimes and incidents to have their rights upheld in this process.
Strengths and limitations
Earlier Canadian research has offered limited descriptions of how organizations respond to reports of hate crimes and incidents from the perspectives of those who reported them. As such, this study is an early attempt at describing these experiences. Further, it is essential to inform the services that respond to reports of hate crimes and incidents to ensure that they properly and promptly meet survivors’ needs, especially considering the potential for severe harm caused by hate crimes and incidents and responses to reporting. At this point, the findings of this study provide sufficient information for organizations to begin informing and adapting their approaches. This study supports further inquiry into how hate crimes and incidents may be perpetrated within institutions.
This study has some limitations. First, it did not account for the experiences of people under 18. Second, it did not involve the perspectives of anyone targeted by a hate crime or incident motivated by antisemitism, or anti-South Asian and anti-West Asian racism. Hate crimes due to these motivations are increasingly prevalent in Canada (Statistics Canada, 2025). Further, the study collected limited demographic data due to sensitivities associated with collecting this information. Between this limitation and the study’s sample size, we cannot confidently determine or compare how members of different communities experience responses to their reports of hate crimes or incidents and their specific hopes or needs for responses. In addition, this study had limited ability to accommodate those uncomfortable communicating in English. However, it should be noted that the one individual who wished to participate in another language was interviewed, thanks to the translation provided by a research partner. Nonetheless, future studies may be able to expand upon our findings. For example, they could explore how different demographic groups experience responses to reports of hate crimes and incidents, perhaps even comparing experiences across different municipalities, rural areas, First Nations, and Métis Nations.
Our study gathered insights from several Indigenous participants who reported hate crimes and incidents motivated by anti-Indigenous racism (n = 6). However, due to the limited sample, it cannot offer confident insights into the experiences of Indigenous peoples as they pertain to hate crimes and incidents or experiences with reporting them. This observation is significant, however, and merits further investigation.
Recommendations
We offer the following recommendations based directly on interviews with people who have reported hate crimes and incidents to organizations in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. We checked recommendations with research partners and participants. Many also share consistencies with the Canadian Race Relations Foundation’s (2022) report.
Recommendations for any organization responding to reports of hate crimes
Many participants advocated that the initial points of contact in the hate crime or incident reporting process be able to reliably assess physical safety of the survivor, respond with immediacy and empathy, take reports seriously, and practice active listening. Participants desired reliable, client-centred safety planning and supports. They hoped services could include referrals to address the physical, psychological, and financial impacts of victimization. Survivors also wished for timely, frequent updates and guidance, while having their voices centred in the reporting process.
Interviewees advocated for trauma-informed, culturally safe, and cost-free services. Such services would ideally be available outside of standard office hours, perhaps via a new or updated, existing 24/7 helpline. The participants hoped to see staff that respond to reports of hate crimes be trained in bias awareness, intercultural practice, trauma-informed care, and how to support survivors of hate crimes and incidents. They recommended that these responses be mandated by internal policies. They further wanted to see these policies and responses evaluated and updated while incorporating the perspectives of survivors. They also suggested that services prepare survivors for potential risks if their story becomes public.
The participants further emphasized that policies, training, and hiring practices should ensure service providers are culturally humble and represent the diversity of impacted communities. These steps are critical as some organization members were identified as perpetrators of hate crimes. Consequently, survivors recommended accessible, arms-length internal complaint options that are not conditional on non-disclosure agreements or dismissing complaints. Services must protect complainants’ identifying information to prevent reprisals, and complaints should be taken seriously.
The participants identified the value of collaborations among organizations, community groups, regulatory bodies, and specialized support that received reports of hate crimes or assist survivors to ensure effective, timely, and appropriate referrals. To increase awareness of services, the participants suggested an accessible online presence and proactive relationships with impacted communities through programming, education, engagement, and capacity-building efforts developed in collaboration with those communities.
Additional recommendations for police
The participants had additional recommendations specific to law enforcement, hoping to see a coordinating body (e.g. Hate Crimes Unit or Coordinator) that could evaluate for and oversee high-quality, consistent services responding to reports of hate crimes, prioritizing the perspectives of those who report. Survivors wished to see this coordinating body be accountable to police executive leadership and internal policy, supported by adequate resources. Upon receiving a report, the participants hoped to see the police provide timely, reliable, and client-centred services or referrals to address the impacts of victimization, perhaps embedded in a reassurance protocol. The participants advocated that this contact should include offering safety planning and a referral to Victims Services, even if police do not lay charges. Furthermore, police-based Victims Services must be specifically trained to support hate crime survivors and implement the general organizational recommendations listed previously (e.g. trauma-informed care, cultural humility). Overall, survivors emphasized the need for police officers and Victim Services to take statements seriously, conduct thorough investigations, and provide survivors with regular updates and referrals. The participants hoped to see police hold perpetrators accountable in alignment with the survivor’s wishes and practice procedural justice.
Additional recommendations for municipal, provincial, and federal governments
To effectively address hate crimes and incidents across urban, rural, First Nations, and Métis Nations areas, there is a need for all levels of government to develop and implement practical, evaluated, transparent, evidence-based, community-guided, and sustained strategies and legislation. Key to this is building meaningful, ongoing relationships with affected individuals and communities, and responding to and prioritizing their needs through dedicated staff positions for community engagement and consultation at all levels of government. Alongside these steps, the participants wanted to see underlying factors that they connected to hate crimes be addressed, such as seeing meaningful steps taken towards reconciliation with Indigenous peoples through answering the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (2015) calls to action, addressing systemic discrimination, and supporting widespread anti-racism and Indigenous awareness education through provincial ministries (Children’s Services, Education, Indigenous Relations, Justice, etc.). Furthermore, interviewees wanted to see governments provide appropriate, ongoing funding to new and existing survivor support organizations, while rigorously evaluating them to ensure a reliably high quality of service. There must also be enhanced information-sharing, coordination, and collaboration (potentially via a provincial Hate Crimes Coordination Unit) among all responding organizations, including municipal and federal law enforcement. Participants hoped to see public services be accountable to these recommendations, make their evaluations transparent and publicly available, and potentially enshrine them in provincial legislation. Finally, federal and provincial courts must ensure consistency in holding perpetrators of hate crimes accountable. Doing so may include requiring perpetrators to participate in programming designed to help them understand the harm caused by their actions and prevent future offences.
Conclusion
This CBPR study helps us understand how individuals conceptualize and choose to report hate crimes and incidents, the inconsistent responses individuals face when they do so, and the impacts of these responses on survivors. Importantly, it has implications for governments and organizations that receive reports of hate crimes and incidents in informing their service delivery to survivors. Considering the inconsistent and unreliable responses from organizations, it is not especially surprising that these insights, while novel in research, are not new to communities impacted by hate crimes and incidents. Moreover, such responses may impact communities’ and individuals’ faith in organizations responding to hate crimes and incidents reports. As such, it is essential that organizations that respond to hate crimes and incidents reports listen to, value, and believe those who report to them. At the same time, these services need to be consistent, reliable, timely, trauma-informed, and victim-centred. Doing so is especially imperative in a society that, in its systems and social discourse, continues to uphold hate and discrimination.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We want to acknowledge Coalitions Creating Equity; Helen Rusich with REACH Edmonton; the John Humphrey Centre for Peace and Human Rights; StopHateAB (formerly the Alberta Hate Crimes Committee); Farshad Labbaf with the University of Alberta; and William Howe, PhD at the University of Alberta for their roles in the research design, co-creation of data collection tools, recruitment, perspectives on themes and recommendations, funding, and knowledge mobilization of the study discussed in this paper.
Ethical considerations
The research project received research ethics approval from the University of Alberta Research Ethics Board 1, ‘Understanding organizational responses in Edmonton to reports of hate crimes and/or incidents from the perspective of those reporting’, Pro00115909, on December 15, 2021.
Authors’ contributions
The first author led the study discussed in this paper, including research design, data collection, and data analysis. The second author provided supervision and methodology expertise to the lead author, supporting the research design and implementation while co-authoring the manuscript alongside the first author.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The Alberta Public Interest Group and the John Humphrey Centre for Peace and Human Rights provided funding to compensate participants in this study.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
