Minority Ethnic and Faith Communities and Bereavement: What the Data Show

In several countries, many minority ethnic communities face more deaths in the family, and earlier in life, than the majority population, and COVID-19 widened that gap sharply. Yet bereavement services say these are the communities they most often do not reach, and in the UK, where it has been reviewed, almost no research measures whether the support that does exist works for them.

For a family from a minority ethnic or faith community, the days after a death can carry more than grief. A religious duty to bury quickly may meet a queue for a post-mortem. Mourning that traditionally gathers a whole community may have to fit rules written with other customs in mind. Support may be offered in a language, a setting or a style that does not fit. None of this is about how people grieve being wrong. The evidence points to gaps in how services and systems respond, and to inequalities in health and life expectancy that mean these families are bereaved more often.

Where life expectancy is shorter, bereavement comes sooner and more often

The plainest link between ethnicity and bereavement is arithmetic. Where a group's death rates are higher, its members bury parents, partners, brothers, sisters and children earlier in their own lives. The clearest test of this comes from the United States. Using two nationally representative surveys, the National Longitudinal Study of Youth (7,617 people) and the Health and Retirement Study (34,757 people), researchers found that Black Americans were significantly more likely than white Americans to have experienced the death of a mother, a father and a sibling from childhood through midlife, and from young adulthood onwards more likely to have experienced the death of a child and of a spouse^[4]. The authors call this "an underappreciated layer of racial inequality", and suggest it could help pass health disadvantage from one generation to the next^[4].

Official mortality statistics show where that pressure is greatest, and also that it does not fall on every minority group. In the United States in 2023, age-adjusted death rates were 1,277.7 per 100,000 for American Indian and Alaska Native men and 1,151.6 for Black men, against 906.4 for White men; for women the figures were 920.3, 753.6 and 662.8. Rates for Hispanic men (692.8) and Asian men (476.1) were lower than for White men^[5]. In Australia, life expectancy at birth for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in 2020–2022 was 71.9 years for males and 75.6 years for females: 8.8 and 8.1 years less than for non-Indigenous Australians^[6].

So "minority ethnic" is not one experience. In these figures, the greatest impact falls on Indigenous peoples and on Black Americans, while some other minority groups have lower death rates than the majority. The pattern differs from country to country, and depends on which countries publish deaths by ethnicity in the first place.

COVID-19 fell hardest on minority ethnic families, and on their children

The pandemic made these inequalities visible almost overnight. In England, the Office for National Statistics linked deaths to the 2011 Census for 29.3 million people aged 30 to 100. In the first wave (24 January to 11 September 2020), after adjusting for age, the rate of death involving COVID-19 was 3.7 times the White British rate for Black African men and 2.6 times for Black African women^[2]. In the second wave, the Bangladeshi group had the highest rates: 5.0 times the White British rate for men and 4.1 times for women^[2].

Much of the gap reflected people’s circumstances rather than ethnicity itself. Adjusting for where people lived, deprivation, occupation, living arrangements and pre-existing health conditions "accounted for a large proportion of the excess", but most Black and South Asian groups remained at higher risk than White British people in the second wave even after those adjustments^[2]. For a bereaved family, the cause matters less than the result: more deaths, close together, in the same communities.

Deaths in minority communities also more often left children behind. The authors of one US study noted that death rates and fertility rates were generally higher among non-White than White Americans^[1]. The study estimated that from April 2020 to June 2021, more than 140,000 children experienced the death of a parent or grandparent caregiver. Compared with White children, American Indian and Alaska Native children were 4.5 times as likely to have such a death, Black children 2.4 times and Hispanic children 1.8 times^[1]. Although about 4 in 10 COVID-19 deaths were among non-White minority populations, almost 7 in 10 of the children who had a parent or caregiver die were from those communities: 65% of children whose primary caregiver died, against 39% of the population^[1]. These are modelled estimates, not counts. The wider impact on bereaved children is covered in our study of children bereaved by COVID-19.

The ripple goes further than children. A US model estimated that each COVID-19 death left about nine people who had lost a grandparent, parent, sibling, spouse or child. The estimate was 9.18 for Black Americans and 8.86 for White Americans; the model could not cover other racial and ethnic groups^[7].

Grief is shared; the pressures around it are not

Studies that compare grief across ethnic groups are few, small and mostly from the UK and the US. Where they find differences in health after a death, they tend to trace them to the circumstances of the death and to what comes after it, rather than to culture or to the way people grieve.

In inner London, a study compared 50 bereaved relatives and friends of first-generation Black Caribbean patients with 50 of White patients born in the UK, ten months after the death. The intensity of grief was similar in both groups. Scores for depression and anxiety on a standard questionnaire were higher among Black Caribbean respondents (28.00 against 21.2), and this difference was best accounted for by practical concerns after the death, such as legal and housing problems^[8]. Family doctors were a source of support for three-quarters of respondents^[8]. The finding places the problem where it belongs: in the practical strain that follows a death, not in the grief itself.

Two US studies point the same way. Combining two samples of recently bereaved people, one found prolonged grief disorder (a diagnosable condition, distinct from ordinary grief) in 21% of African American participants (14 of 66) against 12% of White participants (55 of 471). A death experienced as sudden or unexpected was also linked to prolonged grief disorder over and above race or ethnicity^[9]. A survey of 1,581 bereaved university students (940 white and 641 African American) found that African American students had more often been bereaved by homicide, kept stronger continuing bonds with the person who had died, grieved more for extended family beyond the immediate household, and felt supported in their grief, while being less likely to seek professional support^[10]. Both found more sudden or violent deaths among African American participants, which may be part of the explanation. Our study of families bereaved by homicide covers that experience.

Bereavement services say they are not reaching minority communities, and the evidence base is thin

Bereavement services themselves are clear about the gap. In a UK survey of 147 voluntary and community bereavement services, 67.3% said there were groups with unmet needs who were not using their services before the pandemic. The group named most often was people from minoritised ethnic communities, by 49% of all the services that took part^[3]. During the pandemic, 3.4% of services were seeing more people from minoritised ethnic groups and 6.1% fewer, and 25.2% did not collect ethnicity data at all^[3]. The study’s title quotes one of its participants: "Sadly I think we are sort of still quite white, middle-class really"^[3]. Interviews described how the pandemic disrupted care and mourning practices in minoritised ethnic communities, and the need for culturally appropriate support^[3].

Whether the support on offer helps is largely unknown. A systematic review of bereavement care for ethnic minority communities in the UK screened 3,185 records and found just seven relevant studies. It found no research on the role of family, friends and existing networks, and "a real absence of evidence" about outcomes and satisfaction for people from ethnic minority backgrounds who receive bereavement care^[11]. The barriers it did find were grouped under "lack of awareness", "variability in support", "type and format of support" and "culturally specific beliefs"^[11].

Research samples repeat the gap. In a UK online survey of 711 adults bereaved during the pandemic, only 33 (4.7%) were from a minority ethnic background^[12], so the communities most affected by COVID-19 deaths were among the least heard. The picture is similar for Indigenous peoples: a 2026 review of grieving and funeral practices across 18 Indigenous groups could find no studies of grief support frameworks designed for Indigenous people^[13], and a review of First Nations perspectives on stillbirth and bereavement in the US, Canada, Aotearoa New Zealand and Australia found only ten studies and "a paucity of research"^[14]. Our study of parents after stillbirth or neonatal death looks at that experience more widely.

Faith practices and official processes can pull in different directions

For many Jewish and Muslim families, burial should happen very quickly after a death. When a death must be reported to a coroner or medical examiner, that duty can collide with the time it takes to investigate the death, carry out a post-mortem examination and release the body.

In England, that tension reached the High Court. In 2018, a Jewish burial society and a co-claimant challenged a senior coroner's policy that no death would be prioritised over another on religious grounds, described in court as a "cab rank rule". The court accepted evidence that "for certain faith groups, in particular the Jewish faith and the Muslim faith, it is very important that a funeral should take place as soon as possible, ideally on the day of death itself". It found the policy unlawful on every ground argued except the public sector equality duty, granted a declaration that it was unlawful, and quashed it^[15]. The judgment did not say that faith should always come first. It said that a rigid rule which never allowed a case to be treated as urgent for religious reasons could not stand^[15].

The same questions arise wherever death investigation systems serve diverse populations, but we could find no international data on how often families of different faiths face delays in the release of a body, or how often they decline an invasive post-mortem examination. This is a gap that coroner, medical examiner and forensic services in many countries could fill by recording and publishing it. Deaths by religion are rarely published at all; England is an exception, where the Office for National Statistics found that the Muslim group had among the highest rates of death involving COVID-19 for much of the pandemic, until the Omicron period from January 2022^[16]. Families separated from relatives abroad face added barriers, which our study of migrants bereaved abroad covers.

What the evidence asks of us

The figures point less to how minority communities grieve than to how systems respond. Several steps follow directly from the evidence, and most echo what services and researchers have already recommended.

• Count who is being reached. A quarter of UK bereavement services surveyed did not collect ethnicity data^[3]. Services named collecting client demographic data as a first step to equity^[3]; without it, no service can tell whether it is closing the gap.
• Build support with communities, not only for them. The UK review recommended direct user representation, proactive engagement and co-design to find the right models and formats of bereavement care^[11]. Services in the UK survey pointed to outreach, language accessibility, staff representation and local collaboration^[3].
• Support the people families already turn to. Family doctors supported three-quarters of bereaved relatives in the London study^[8], and services suggested supporting other professionals to provide bereavement support^[3]. Faith leaders and community organisations are natural partners in that work.
• Help with the practical strain. Where poorer mental health after a death was traced to legal and housing problems^[8], practical and advice services are part of bereavement support.
• Make death investigation flexible for faith. The English courts have ruled that a rigid policy refusing to treat any case as urgent on religious grounds was unlawful^[15]. Coroners and medical examiners elsewhere can publish how they handle such requests and how long families wait.
• Plan for children in the next public health emergency. The US COVID-19 study called for an evidence-based response focused on the children at greatest risk, in the places most affected^[1].
• Fund the missing research. Researchers have found "a stark lack of evidence" about bereavement care for ethnic minority populations^[11]. Studies need to recruit minority ethnic participants in real numbers, and report outcomes by ethnicity and faith.

Language: this piece uses plain words such as “died” rather than euphemisms, because they are clearer. It uses the terms the sources use, such as “minority ethnic”, “minoritised ethnic”, “Black African” or “American Indian and Alaska Native”, so that each figure keeps its original meaning. These categories differ between countries and are not interchangeable.

Why we're publishing this

Race equality and faith community organisations have long argued that bereavement support does not work equally well for everyone. The evidence here backs them up: some minority communities face more deaths, earlier, and services themselves say they are not reaching them. We have gathered the strongest figures we could find, from several countries, so that these organisations can cite them when they make the case for better support, and so that services and funders can see where the gaps are. The case belongs to these communities; our job is to set out the data plainly.

How to read this data

The figures come from different kinds of source and are not directly comparable. The death rates for the United States (2023) and life expectancy for Australia (2020–2022) are official statistics. England’s COVID-19 figures link death registrations to census records, and compare rates relative to White British people, adjusted for age and in some models for other factors. The US figures on children and on the bereavement multiplier are modelled estimates, not counts. The studies of grief and mental health are small and based on particular samples in London and the US South; the UK service survey reflects providers’ views, from services that chose to take part. Ethnic categories differ between countries, and "minority ethnic" covers groups whose death rates are higher and lower than the majority’s. Faith is rarely recorded in mortality data; England’s COVID-19 figures by religion^[16] are the exception we found, and we found no figures on bereavement outcomes by religion. The ethnic gap in England also narrowed: by the Omicron period (from January 2022) the ONS found no longer evidence of significantly higher COVID-19 mortality in ethnic minority groups than in the White British group^[16]. Most of the evidence comes from the UK, the US and Australia; for most of the world, the data on ethnicity and bereavement do not exist.

Use this data

Free to cite with attribution to Understanding Bereavement. Charities, community and faith organisations, services and journalists are welcome to reuse these figures and charts. For the underlying figures as a spreadsheet, get in touch.

Important: This study summarises published research about groups of people for general information. It is not medical advice or bereavement support, and it cannot describe or predict anything about an individual or family. If you are worried about yourself or someone close to you, please speak to a GP or another qualified professional.

Sources

1. Hillis SD, Blenkinsop A, Villaveces A, et al. COVID-19-Associated Orphanhood and Caregiver Death in the United States. Pediatrics, 2021. europepmc.org/article/MED/34620728
2. Office for National Statistics. Updating ethnic contrasts in deaths involving the coronavirus (COVID-19), England: 24 January 2020 to 31 March 2021. ONS, 2021. ons.gov.uk/…/24january2020to31march2021
3. Selman LE, Sutton E, Medeiros Mirra R, et al. ‘Sadly I think we are sort of still quite white, middle-class really’ – Inequities in access to bereavement support: Findings from a mixed methods study. Palliative Medicine, 2023. europepmc.org/article/MED/36337051
4. Umberson D, Olson JS, Crosnoe R, et al. Death of family members as an overlooked source of racial disadvantage in the United States. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 2017. europepmc.org/article/MED/28115712
5. National Center for Health Statistics. Mortality in the United States, 2023 (NCHS Data Brief No. 521). Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2024. cdc.gov/nchs/products/databriefs/db521.htm
6. Australian Bureau of Statistics. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander life expectancy, 2020–2022. ABS, 2023. abs.gov.au/…/aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-life-expectancy
7. Verdery AM, Smith-Greenaway E, Margolis R, Daw J. Tracking the reach of COVID-19 kin loss with a bereavement multiplier applied to the United States. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 2020. europepmc.org/article/MED/32651279
8. Koffman J, Donaldson N, Hotopf M, Higginson IJ. Does ethnicity matter? Bereavement outcomes in two ethnic groups living in the United Kingdom. Palliative and Supportive Care, 2005. europepmc.org/article/MED/16594457
9. Goldsmith B, Morrison RS, Vanderwerker LC, Prigerson HG. Elevated rates of prolonged grief disorder in African Americans. Death Studies, 2008. europepmc.org/article/MED/18850684
10. Laurie A, Neimeyer RA. African Americans in bereavement: grief as a function of ethnicity. Omega, 2008. europepmc.org/article/MED/18680889
11. Mayland CR, Powell RA, Clarke GC, Ebenso B, Allsop MJ. Bereavement care for ethnic minority communities: A systematic review of access to, models of, outcomes from, and satisfaction with, service provision. PLOS ONE, 2021. europepmc.org/article/MED/34191804
12. Selman L, Farnell D, Longo M, et al. Place, cause and expectedness of death and relationship to the deceased are associated with poorer experiences of end-of-life care and challenges in early bereavement: risk factors from an online survey of people bereaved during the COVID-19 pandemic. medRxiv (preprint), 2021. doi.org/10.1101/2021.09.09.21263341
13. Felix R, du Plessis E, Jacobs I. Identifying Indigenous People’s Grieving and Funeral Practices as Components for Establishing a Grief Support Framework: An Integrative Literature Review. Journal of Psychiatric and Mental Health Nursing, 2026. europepmc.org/article/MED/41347527
14. Pollock D, Bailey HD, Hasanoff S, et al. First Nations Peoples’ perceptions, knowledge and beliefs regarding stillbirth prevention and bereavement practices: A mixed methods systematic review. Women and Birth, 2024. europepmc.org/article/MED/38640744
15. High Court of England and Wales (Divisional Court). R (Adath Yisroel Burial Society and another) v HM Senior Coroner for Inner North London [2018] EWHC 969 (Admin). The National Archives, Find Case Law, 2018. caselaw.nationalarchives.gov.uk/ewhc/admin/2018/969
16. Office for National Statistics. Updating ethnic and religious contrasts in deaths involving the coronavirus (COVID-19), England: 24 January 2020 to 23 November 2022. ONS, 2023. ons.gov.uk/…/24january2020to23november2022