Yocheved lgbtq

sexual abuse

Standing directly, in front of the aron kodesh, dressed in the traditional Haredi uniform, Rabbi Yakov Horowitz, unflinchingly shared certain realities with the packed crowd that had gathered last Wednesday night at  Kehillat Shaarei Yonah Menachem, in Modi’in, Israel.

Rabbi Horowitz’s lecture titled, “Developing a relationship with your kids, so they will talk, even about the most uncomfortable things” was full of uncomfortable topics.

Topics seemingly unfit for the holiness of our sanctuary. Unfit to be speaking about in front of the aron kodesh: Drugs. Alcohol.Sexual Abuse. Teaching Disabilities. LGBTQ.

For the last twenty-five years, Rabbi Yakov Horowitz, founder, and dean of Yeshiva Darchei Noam in Monsey and the founder and director of Project has been on a mission: reach out to marginalized Jewish youth and assist parents in nurturing their children’s potential.

Rabbi Yakov Horowitz “gets it” and believes that these “uncomfortable topics” must be discussed, on a  walk, at a Shabbat meal, in the classroom, and, yes, in front of the aron kodesh.

Rabbi Horowitz’s work as a rebbe with troubled teens opened his eyes to the harsh

[A digital rendering of this originally hand-written epistolary blog post can be set up here.]

June 19, 2015

Hello and Happy Pride Month!

I inscribe to you by hand because, like my fellow millennials, I love recent things that feel appreciate old things. We create “upcycled” shelves out of reclaimed driftwood. We exploit smartphone apps to construct our cell phone photos look like Polaroids. Write down players are back in vogue. A scribbled letter is my favorite way to soften cold digital words into something cozy and human. I’m a queer-identified, frum-identified Jew in a complicated relationship with Orthodoxy, and I wish to tell you about my community.

I moved to Washington Heights, in Manhattan, in September because a kallah, a bride, gave me a blessing and told me to. At the time I had already decided to proceed to New York, but was leaning toward Brooklyn. At a dinner hosted by some Yiddishists in the Heights to honor Yudis and her unused wife, Yocheved, Yudis was floating on a post-wedding spiritual high. I asked her for a blessing.

Me: Yudis, would you grant me a bracha?
Yudis: Absolutely. I have the perfect one.

[We scurry off to a quiet room.]

Yudis: I want to thank you wit

Photos by Rebecca Smeyne.

Last night, thousands of New Yorkers gathered in front of the historic Stonewall Inn in Manhattan’s West Village for a vigil to commemorate the 49 people killed this Saturday at the gay club Pulse in Orlando. The tragedy was felt particularly deeply among the LGBTQ society, who have lengthy turned to clubs and bars as spaces to congregate, socialize, and explore refuge from a discriminatory society. We spoke to some of the attendees last night about what nightclubs enjoy Pulse mean to the queer group and whether or not, in soft of this tragic news, they still plan to depart out and mark during Pride.

1. Katsumi (Left) and Marui (Right)

THUMP: Why are clubs like Pulse important to the LGBTQ community?
Katsumi: It’s not just a nightclub. I’ve had straight coworkers who were comparing [Pulse] to any universal building or their straight uncle going to a nightclub. But it’s really a representation of community.

Marui: [Gay clubs] are places where people can proceed and feel defended . To hear it being compared to a convention center or something that has nothing to do with any type of minority group is really jarring and upsetting.

Yocheved's Jewish timeline

  • One of my great-grandmothers was one of the only people in her family to survive the Holocaust. When I was young, suddenly an old man came to our door who didn't speak any English. It was her long-lost brother! He had survived the war and had been looking for her ever since. They had been separated for more than 50 years. It was a miraculous reunion but also incredibly tragic. It is one of my earliest memories.
  • I ask my mom why my other great-grandmother always makes me consume so much when we visit. My mom says "Because she had so little to eat growing up, she always wants to make sure you're full"
  • This is a noteworthy age for several reasons, but also including the fact that I became religious after coming out at a young age
  • I played basketball at a highly competitive level in middle school and lofty school. At the complete of spring league in 2003, I tore my ankle ligament and had a sinking feeling that I wasn't going to be able to act basketball as seriously as I had. That summer I was on crutches and couldn't work. I asked my mom to drop me off at the library before she went to work, and she picked me up after work (often 10-12 h

    Malkah Binah and Neysa
    Photo: Wedding at Germantown Jewish Centre, 2002

    We didn’t really observe ourselves as pioneers as much as being in the right place at the right moment, blessed with many wonderful mentors who had lit the path ahead of us.  Neysa had been an active member of the Atlanta GLBT synagogue, Congregation Bet Haverim, before moving to Pennsylvania.  Malkah Binah was a scholar at RRC, and while she was not fully “out” when she began her rabbinical studies at RRC in 1999, she moved to Philadelphia knowing that RRC would be a place that would adopt her as she came out. Malkah Binah’s dear friends from rabbinical institution, Miriam and Mike, had celebrated their wedding at GJC in 2000, and she loved the flow of their wedding, from the ceremony in the Charry Sanctuary up to the Marcus for lunch and… read more here.

     

    Yoel and Matthew

    GJC has been a part of our family life for 15 years. Even before we moved to Philly in 2009, we made second to attend services with Minyan Masorti whenever we came to town to visit family. Our minyan and the wider GJC collective have also been a source of support and positive statement as Yoel transitioned gender.  Especially meaningfu

    yocheved lgbtq