"Gay"

A few weeks ago, I received a Facebook message from a friend. Well, a Facebook friend, an acquaintance; someone I knew in college, was never particularly close with, but I always had a great friendly relationship with him. 

“In one of our psych classes, I repeatedly called you gay in a derogatory fashion. I honestly don't remember what prompted it, but I kept annoyingly saying it to you for an entire class period. I know it seriously upset you, and in hindsight, it was probably one of the most insensitive things I could have done.”

I sincerely appreciate his sensitivity and thoughtfulness, and really appreciate the message. I appreciate seeing his growth as a person, particularly to this plight, and his apology. But if I’m being completely honest, I don’t remember the incident in question, and, I don’t remember having any negative feelings towards this person at all. That doesn't mean he didn’t say those things to me or call me names, but instead, I think, because it simply didn’t matter to me.

When people have asked me to tell my story or, once or twice, to speak publicly, it hasn't been easy for me. I don’t have these “backpocket stories” of being called names or treated inappropriately. Only a few times in my life did I truly feel I was a victim of “bullying”, but in no way can I recount those memories clearly. By moving past these challenges and incidents, by making peace and keeping on my own path, I gave myself the power to overcome the difficulties and ignore any negativity that so many others seem to struggle with, like being called gay in a derogatory fashion. I have no list to avenge, no book of stories to describe the pain and suffering or any hurt that I’ve been caused by others.

It’s too easy, especially in a marginalized community such as the LGBT community, to victimize ones self. I find it a waste of time and horrifyingly self-absorbed (says the man writing a blog about himself) to run around pointing fingers at everyone who may have caused you pain. I find all too often, people will victimize themselves to get what they want, or to further an “agenda” (for lack of a better term).

The way I see it, the way to get somewhere in life is not by playing the victim, but instead by showing strength and growth in the face of adversity. 

The Struggle, pt. III

I've grown. I'll admit it and I'm proud of it. I've grown so much over the past few years, and as this post marks my second year of the blog, I'll admit that things have changed; that I've changed, that the community has changed, that life got a lot better. And I am extremely thankful for the love and support of those around me.

But it's not over. The struggle isn't over because I've found a semblance of peace and happiness. Because sometimes, I still feel off. Sometimes, I still feel out of place. I feel alone. Not because I am alone, but because I live in a community that sometimes makes me feel alone. It's not that I want acceptance- I have that. It's not that I want a relationship- I have one. But when it comes down to it, the Orthodox Jewish community is a heterocentric hub with 2000 years of tradition. Almost always, men will marry women in Orthodox communities. Shabbat tables will discuss the latest boy-girl couples and engagements and weddings. And I can't change that. But I also can't change who I am. Am I selfish for expecting everyone to help me feel comfortable? Perhaps. But no matter how much my straight friends love me, I will always feel different. No matter how much of a place I have in my community, I will never feel like I fully belong.

There are times when I get hugs from my friends and wonder- will they hug their children if one day their kids come out of the closet? There's so much more growth and work to be done because in reality, while my community has accepted me, have they accepted homosexuality? The answer is obviously no. And the answer probably will be no for a long time, and that's a really hard fact for me to face. That's another aspect of feeling alone, that I am alone in being accepted, that there are so few Orthodox gay Jews out there who are happy and comfortable in their communities.

I was warned about this years ago, when gay friends told me I would never be able to stay in the community I love so much. I was warned that I would feel out of place or rejected. Thank God I didn't. And I don't. I know my friends love me and my community loves me. But that doesn't help me feel like everyone else, because I will never be like everyone else. There are neighborhoods and communities out there where majority of the population is gay, or it's 50/50, and that's when someone doesn't feel alone. But when someone goes against their society's created standard for "normal" (ie- being Frum and gay), they will feel alone.  And that's part of the dissonance, discomfort and disparity of being gay in a Frum community.

One for August, year two

Sorry about the break everyone, but as last summer, I took a month off from blogging to allow myself some personal time and time to reflect on all that has developed in the past year. I attended two weddings of very close friends this summer- and I wanted to share some of my emotions from those experiences.

In the Orthodox community, I was raised to be married by 23, a goal I did not reach, and it was always understood that at the end of college I would settle down and start a married life like so many of my friends have done and are doing. Because I'm gay, what may happen for me some day is not the traditional Modern Orthodox wedding and this used to make me very sad. This is why I used to cry at friend's celebrations, out of sadness. However, this summer a few people helped me realize that whatever wedding I do have will just be another growth and development on my part and on the part of those who choose to share it with me. It may not be the traditional celebration I grew up to know- or the ones my friends had, but I can no longer let that bring me down- because whatever I do have will be more than special enough.

On that note, I finally experienced true tears of joy, instead of sadness. Tears of joy are probably one of the most complicated and incredible emotions a person can experience. As I watched my best friend of ten years walk down the aisle, looking more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen in the world, I felt such joy and happiness that smiling wasn't enough. My smile was from ear to ear, but I had more emotion to express and I began crying. I began sobbing, actually. But I wasn't sad, I wasn't upset, I wasn't jealous, I was just truly happy for my best friend.

Finally, I wanted to share how at many Jewish weddings, the Bride and Groom may privately bless some who attend, to share the purity of their day with their friends. At these two close weddings, I finally got the blessings I had been waiting for after the scores of other wedding blessings I had received. I was blessed to find the one, whomever it may be. I was blessed to find the happiness that every bride and groom find on their wedding day, and I was blessed to continue my life with the pride I've always expressed. And those blessings meant the world to me. No "may you find your path" "may God help you be happy", but just to find happiness and someone to share my life with and do it with strength. Because true love is out there for everyone, and so is happiness- as I have always said. I think that's the essence of our religion and that's the essence of what God wants for His children.

Externals

Last summer, I was thrilled to have bought a little $2 bracelet at my first ever pride. One of those rubber-y livestrong types- simply in rainbow colors. I wore it for a few months until it broke, and it was a sad day. I felt balanced, with a Yarmulka on my head and a pride bracelet on my wrist.

The head covering symbolizes God's presence in my life, my reminder that he in constantly above me and the feeling that he's watching over me. Not to mention the obligation it puts on me to be a Jew and act appropriately in the eyes of God at all times. These are all things I have been taught that the Yarmulka symbolizes, and I remember it as often as I can. However, there's another part of me that is also very important. Unfortunately, people box and stereotype and pigeonhole, all of which I have discussed on here earlier, and when someone sees me in a Yarmulka they automatically make assumptions about who I am. As I have pointed out before, I like to challenge those assumptions and teach people that not everything the believe to be true is automatically, always true. For that reason I like the Pride bracelet.

This summer I bought another one, that will hopefully last a bit long than the last one. I like to show the world that I don't necessarily fit the mold and can't always be held to preconceived notions about Jews or Orthodoxy. I understand that it seems self centered and maybe crying for attention, but it's really not. It's just about having a comprehensive sense of who I am. If I have to wear the Kippah over my head at all times, I want to wear the bracelet on my wrist.
I realized today that for me, being proud is not about my sexual desires or "deviance" from "norms". However, being proud is about opposing shame. It's about telling myself that all those years of hate and shame for who I was are no longer, and all the hurt of hiding doesn't have to be true. By marching in pride, and by wearing this bracelet, I understand and in essence reach out to my high school self to tell him it's okay. I don't have to feel shame any more.

Gay Marriage and Pride

Last Friday, history was made in New York State as the State Senate voted to become the sixth state in the US to legalize same-sex marriages. I found this out Shabbat morning as the paper was delivered and felt my heart swell with emotion as tears began to flow. It's a beautiful thing to know that one day, I will be able to have a New York "husband", even though I do know that I will never have an Orthodox Jewish marriage to a man. I know that we will be respected with the same rights every heterosexual couple has, taxes, insurance, employment benefits and the like- the things that I grew up knowing that every normal adult heterosexual couple has to deal with, are now relevant for homosexual couples as well. It helps me feel as "normal" as I know that I am.

Sunday morning I awoke and got down to Bryant Park where I met up with many gay friends- Orthodox and non-Orthodox, to have a bagel and cream cheese brunch followed by the New York City Pride Parade. The group of us stood by 34th for about an hour or two, watching gorgeous celebrations of men, women, children and the like, show their support and their pride for the lifestyle they lead. I got caught up in emotion as Governor Cuomo, a proponent of same-sex marriage, passed by, and the crowd roared with cheers of thanks and excitement, for a politician who actually kept to his promise. The tears began to flow once again, and only continued as a car passed by with Dan Savage, and his partner Terry Miller, the founders of the "It Gets Better" project. From a distance, they noticed the contingency of Yarmulkes on the side and held up a sign that said "thank you" and pointed it at us.

Soon Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, the largest Jewish LGBT congregation in New York, passed by with their float and members of JQ Youth ran out into the streets to dance with them. I was particularly encouraged to march with a flag I borrowed from a friend- a pride flag with a Jewish star in the middle, brought directly from Tel-Aviv. The march was invigorating and exciting as onlookers were shocked to see religious individuals and people celebrating religion while celebrating their sexuality. I posed for hundreds of cameras who simply pointed to the flag in awe. By the end, my feet were killing me but my heart was full. I understood the word "pride"- from a Jewish sense and a gay sense.



Last year, I couldn't bring myself to march. I thought it was inappropriate, I thought religion and sexuality could never be mixed. But as I have grown over the past few years, the two have finally seemed to find a resting place within me, and I couldn't be more proud.

Deal With It

Hey everyone- so it's been about a year and a half since I've started the blog, and I know there is something that I want to share with you all. I wanted to talk about how I've changed over the past year plus. The blog started with me saying that I'm here to discuss the struggle of being gay and religious. I was out of the closet for a year when I started the blog, so changes within me have to do not with coming out. but just my development as an adult and person.

The original header of the blog was "I'm not here to say I'm here, I'm queer, deal with it, but to say that I'm Frum and I'm gay and I'm trying to do the best I can with that. (or something to that extent)" Now, if you'll notice, the header reads: "I am a religious Jew, and I am gay, and I'm trying to do the best I can with those two seemingly conflicting identities." Why the change? Becuase I changed. Because I realized that what I do say to the world is that "I'm here, I'm queer, deal with it." And not just say that to the world, but say that to the Orthodox community. Deal with it. Deal with my presence. Deal with homosexuality.

Since figuring out so many different aspects of my life- like friends, family, relationships, future career and all- my growth as a person went from confused, young and scared shitless, to proud, strong and confident. Whether it's the amount of support I received via the blog, my friends and the people close to me, I really developed a sense of pride in who I am and the things I believe in. I think at a certain point in a person's life, they just start thinking- what do I need, what's good for me? While that may sound selfish, I think it's how we all develop ourselves and become the people we want to become, and that's just how I did it. I surrounded myself with people who supported me, I sought paths of growth, development and understanding instead of just standing still and forcing myself to accept everything at face value. I came to realize that what I want to say to the world is, I'm here, I'm queer, deal with it.

The blog now continues as I experience how the world and community responds to myself or someone like me, someone who challenges certain beliefs that they may have grown up with, and suggests new options they may never have considered. Someone who is Orthodox but also gay, and is not willing to give either of those up. Someone who is telling you to deal with it.

Statement

For those of you that haven't seen it, (what are you- living under a rock?):
http://statementofprinciplesnya.blogspot.com/

I had a lot of emotions racing through me when this was released- I read through each paragraph with a fine-toothed comb, and to see names of many Rebbeim who I admire and respect on the signature list, and started to tear up a bit. Then I shared with the world. I am happy. I am proud. I feel like I finally belong in places where, honestly, I was scared to enter because of how the sommunity would judge me. But now I know that the Orthodox community- or at least their leaders are no long judging, and are willing to accept the struggles of a homosexual in the Orthodox world, and understand the difficult things we go through.

Portions that struck me in a good way- gay Jews have the right to belong to a congregation and make it their community, gay Jews have the right to refrain from seeking out reparative therapy if they feel it would be more harmful than helpful, children of gay couples should be accepted fully, and that gay Jews should not be encouraged to marry members of the opposite gender. All these values that are unfortunately not approached properly in other communities, and that many Rabbi's do not believe belong in the Orthodox world for whatever reason. But everyone on that list does believe it.

When asked what the next step after the YU Panel should be- this is it. This is the step that was/is needed for the gay Orthodox Jewish population. Awareness, sensitivity and acceptance into the communities we have always called home. All I wish for now is more and more Orthodox leaders to sign on in order to continue the strength displayed by the Orthodox community in releasing this statement.

And for those who asked, I wouldn't change anything about this letter. Not. One. Thing.