“Edie Windsor is the Rosa Parks of the gay movement, a symbol of perhaps the last great civil rights struggle in America.”
J
I
CAME FROM A JEWISH COMMUNITY devoted to inclusiveness, helping one another, and fighting injustice—or, at least that’s what I thought growing up in Hamilton, Ontario. Our Jewish community was filled with Eastern European immigrants and Holocaust survivors, and my father, a social worker who directed the Jewish Community Center, would bring affluent community members together to assist the newcomers with housing, furniture, clothing, and jobs. I felt at home at our congregation, Temple Anshe Sholom. Our family went to services every Friday night, I studied and eventually taught in the Sunday school—and because my father was easily the most beloved member of the Jewish community, we were invited to and attended almost every Saturday morning bar/bat mitzvah and wedding. Our rabbi was a true intellectual. No topic was too secular for Rabbi Bernard Baskin to tackle in a sermon: politics, social mores, international relations, interfaith relations, economics, entertainment, even environmental issues. He tied the teachings of Reform Judaism into the real world and urged us to be ambassadors for Judaism by speaking out against injustice in any form and against any person. At my bar mitzvah, Rabbi Baskin took me aside and recommended that I strongly consider utilizing my developing academic and social skills in a career devoted to the pursuit of justice. The legal profession,
he said, had a strong tradition of counting Jewish lawyers among its most distinguished, accomplished members; and many Jewish lawyers, trained in the laws of the Talmud, had gone on to become judges. I had no idea what lawyers actually did, as we had no lawyers in my family. But Rabbi Baskin’s words echoed in my head throughout my undergraduate years and led me to pursue a legal career as soon as I was eligible to apply to law school.
M
eanwhile, like every gay person I know, I came to realize that I was “different” during my adolescent years. Those were very difficult times for young gay people of my generation, as there were no “out” role models in society: no entertainers (not even the flamboyant Liberace was out of the closet), no politicians, no one. I thought that I was the only gay person around. I was also very mindful of the admonishments in Leviticus, knowing that in Jewish tradition, it was very important to “go forth and multiply.” So I kept my feelings to myself, did my best to suppress my sexual orientation, and clung to a belief that in time I’d “grow out” of my homosexual attractions and become interested in the opposite sex just like everyone else. This began to change at age 19 when I went away to Queens University in Kingson, Ontario and felt
Previous spread: Cake toppers: Jeffrey Hamilton; gavel: penywise/123RF Stock Photo (123rf.com) This spread: Brownstone portrait: Toronto Star via Getty Images; 1963 photo by Joan Abrams
...which had restricted federal marriage benefits to opposite-sex married couples, as a violation of the Constitution’s guarantee of equal protection. In March the Union for Reform Judaism, Central Conference of American Rabbis, and Women of Reform Judaism filed amicus briefs to the Supreme Court in support of marriage equality, and the court ruled in Windsor’s favor on June 26, 2013. RJ magazine asked Judge Brownstone to tell the story of how his life growing up as a Reform Jew and gay activist led to his playing a role in this historic civil rights decision.
Milestones in Pursuit of Marriage Equality y 1969: At Harvey’s bar mitzvah, Rabbi Bernard Baskin recommends he consider becoming a lawyer.
1980: Harvey graduates from law school (with parents) and joins the lesbian and gay Toronto Jewish group “Chutzpah.”
1963: Edith (Edie) Windsor and Thea Spyer meet.
reform judaism
MarriageFeature_f13_F.idml 20
20
fall 2013
7/3/13 8:29 PM