Jewish Queer,

‘Intersectionality’ is a word that gets thrown around a lot these days. “We run an intersectional space.” “Make your feminism intersectional!” “Uplift intersectional voices!” But I think most of the people using this word don’t actually understand what it means to have marginalised identities intersect with one another. I find this to be especially important to the queer community. As a community we reach beyond boundaries of race, culture, or religion; but most people tend to ignore how much these identities alter our experience of queerness.

For the longest time, I kept religion and in my head. The impact left by evangelical Christianity on the wider depiction of religious reactions to queer people is something I’m still learning to move past. I wish more people were willing to move past basic assumptions of religion. I’m sure my Muslim siblings can relate to the experience of people assuming faith is incompatible with a queer identity, or trying to compare an entirely separate faith with Christianity under the pseudo-label of “Abrahamic Religions”.

Let me be clear, my queerness has never been in direct conflict with my practise of Judaism. If anything, my queerness has presented new opportunities to discuss and reinterpret ancient texts, and how I relate to them. The Talmud gave me words to describe my gender identity and the spiritual roles I wish to fulfil better than any western/ English ‘amab/afab’ designation has.

That is not to say my time in different spaces hasn’t had its challenges. There are always people who haven’t learned, and those who do not wish to learn, but unlike many other spaces, I have never felt threatened by the people I share Jewish spaces with.

My experience being queer in Jewish spaces is not all that dissimilar to my experiences being Jewish in queer spaces. After all, many of the people who seek eradication of the queer community believe that we are a leftist extremist cabal, who are controlled by Jews seeking the destruction of ‘traditional values’. Even if I were in one of these communities, the same people would still threaten me.

The biggest similarity I’ve experienced is when people learn that I am Jewish or queer, they immediately begin asking a torrent of questions. Most of them aren’t about me or my identity, rather my politics or my understanding of history. And I sit there hearing these questions, knowing that my answer to them will be used by this person as a primary source. I am expected to be a fount of knowledge and to represent extremely diverse cultural communities.

“What do you think about all those holocaust deniers?” I try not to think about them.

“Did you see that Posie Parker?” Yes, I’m fucking terrified of the discourse she’s introduced ignorant parents to.