In defense of the "stay safe" message...

My alma mater received a credible threat of gun violence for today.  The FBI notified the school that an anonymous shooter threatened a specific campus location at a specific campus time.  In response, the University of Chicago cancelled all services deemed non-essential.  Why they closed student health services as non-essential is a subject for a different post.  The U of C has increased security, including the oh-so-helpful police with visible weapons, and has advised students to stay off and away from campus or stay indoors if they must be on campus because they live there.

Given the situation, many good wishes are being sent to U of Cers and Hyde Parkers, including messages like "thinking of you," "praying for you," "sending love your way," and, of course, the requisite "stay safe."  Amidst the inundation of these posts, some U of Cers are decrying the futility (and therefore perceived insensitivity) of such offerings and directives.

There are legitimate critiques to these mostly formulaic offerings, of course.  Saying "thinking of you" isn't doing anything but communicating worry.  Praying or sending love or good vibes is possibly effective, at least at transforming worry into compassion, but can come off as trite or even offensive.  And the stay safe directive can make it seem like you are responsible for avoiding violence in an uncontrollable situation.  But while possibly not ideal, all these responses communicate that there are people who aren't colocated with you who care.  They say, ultimately, I care whether you live today.  I want you to live today. And I do.  And whether you are a friend I hold dearly, another student trapped in your own home by a terror threat, or the person who thinks bringing a gun to campus will solve your problems, I care whether you live today.  But saying it that way is likely to provoke of intensify your fear of death, which is the last thing I want to do right now.

This is not to argue that if you are afraid then the terrorists win.  Someone threatened to kill you, and fear is a valid and reasonable emotion to experience in a situation like this.  But fear causes the brain to increase irrational responses as well.  It can produce panic and/or a fight-or-flight response.  So while it is ok to be afraid, listening to and acting on your fear could put you in an unnecessarily difficult situation, which I don't want to make for you.

So be annoyed, if you must.  Or exit your social media universe and take today to catch up on your reading, checking updates once in a while, to avoid the trite concern of your powerless friends, acquaintances, and lovers.  But direct your annoyance properly, at the person whose threat caused the situation you're in, and at the systems which led to gun violence seeming like the best solution to end or express their pain.

Here's why I like "stay safe" for these situations.  In all likelihood, you are currently safe.  The word "stay" implies that; it serves as a reminder that in all this chaos, you can start by taking a deep breath and reminding yourself that as of now you are safe.  If you aren't, get help and call 911 if warranted.  There are actions you can take that would decrease your safety such as being on campus where there are armed Chicago police (never mind the internet-based threat), and you don't need to take them.  This is not a day to organize a protest of U of C closing.  People with guns might use them and the number of them on campus has increased because of the threat.  Take affirmative steps for self-care to avoid crossing border from fear to debilitating anxiety.  And distract yourself from your powerlessness over things you cannot control.  Because today, I want you to live.  The world needs you, my favorite thinkers, jokers, rabble-rousers, and curmudgeons.  Learn something new today (crescat scientia, vita excolatur).  And stay safe.

Beyond Mathematical Discovery: What Having a Woman Fields Medalist Really Means

There is no Nobel Prize in Mathematics.  And while the Norwegian government has managed to fund a separate prize called the Abel Prize with a similar monetary award and the Israeli government issues a coveted Wolf Prize in the discipline, no mathematical prize means more in mathematics or outside it than the Fields Medal.  The monetary value is only $15,000 Canadian, but the prestige is priceless. This year, for the first time, the Fields Medal, which can be awarded to as many as four people every four years, was awarded to a woman, Maryam Mirzakhani, and awarded to a mathematician from the global south, Artur Avila.  The press is making a big deal of the woman thing and not a big deal about the global south thing, which should not surprise anyone.  The press is also trying to diminish the significance of a woman winning the Fields Medal by stating that no woman has yet won either the Abel or Wolf Prize in mathematics and talking statistics on the sex ratio of Ph.D.s in mathematics.

These prizes are all awarded for mathematical discovery in particular, not pedagogy, compilation of resources, or many of the other things that academic mathematicians do in their work. All but one recipient of the Fields Medal has been an academic.  When you think about mathematical discovery, you think about a bunch of dead white guys having eureka moments in their bath tubs with a crown.  And maybe, if you are the child of mathematicians like me who was the right age in 1994, you think about Andrew Wiles holing himself up in secrecy for seven years to prove Fermat's Last Theorem.  And, if you read the news, you might also think of the one non-academic Fields Medalist Grigori Perelman, who proved the Poincaré conjecture.  Even if you are the child of two mathematicians, you probably don't think about your mother running Maple calculations about complex manifolds while cooking dinner, or a young mathematician taking a break from writing a paper to nurse her child.  And you don't think about how the ability of even a brilliant mathematician to devote the time and energy to amazing discovery and to get the resources she needs is dependent on her gender.  Only 30% of mathematicians are women, and far fewer are tenured faculty at the world's top research institutions.

Before getting to the Fields Medal itself, let me push the other prizes to the side.  The Wolf Prize has only existed since 1978, and it is a lifetime achievement prize.  Its recipients are the authors of your college mathematical textbooks, the provers and conjecturers of Big Theorems, and the founders of new mathematical disciplines.  Among its recipients are many Fields Medalists, and it has no age cap.  This means that the gender bias in its recipients spans not just the last 20 years (assuming start of real mathematical work around age 20) but of the last 50 to 60 - Shiing-Shen Chern received the prize at age 73.  So, when looking at a Wolf Prize awarded in 2014, we need to look at the gender biases in mathematics at least back to 1964.  The Abel Prize has only been in existence since 2001, and despite its 6 million kroner ($1 million US) prize, is not discussed as a goal in mathematics.  Its recipients are mainly winners of the other two prizes, and I think it is still working to establish itself as a legitimate prize, and picking winners helps in that.  It is worth noting that my mother's thesis advisor, Isadore Singer, shared the prize with Sir Michael Atiyah in 2004 for the Atiyah-Singer Theorem, which won a Fields Medal for Atiyah but not for Singer, as singer was too old to win the prize at the time.  Similarly there is no age cut off for the Abel Prize, which is also in the process of making up for its years of not existing.  It is therefore not surprising that it has not yet been awarded to any women.

Now for the Fields Medal, which is awarded for outstanding discoveries by young mathematicians.  For young mathematicians to succeed in quests for discovery, they need to be in the right environment and have support and the time to make their discoveries.  This includes being in a research environment full of other talented mathematicians, usually ones in your own field, and having the support to do independent and collaborative research as well as teach.  Additionally, being able to make mathematical discoveries is not usually a matter of Eureka moments but of extensive contemplation and research, something which taking the time to bear and raise children, even if not taking time off from academic teaching responsibilities, can severely hamper women's progress in mathematicians.  While plenty of men mathematicians spend time raising children and caring for their families, they also have the option of having children later in life (which they do) and passing off care responsibilities to their partners in ways that are not acceptable for women.  The consistent gender imbalance of faculty at elite institutions makes it even harder for women to get the resources they need to overcome these challenges.  Top young women mathematicians are often given excellent positions at 2nd tier schools who are interested in attracting young mathematicians to keep and expanding which fields they have faculty in.  They take these jobs because tenure is hard to come by and they are then set for life.  But it makes incredible discovery harder.

I am hopeful with these latest Fields Medalists.  The inclusion of a mathematician from the global south means that meaningful mathematical educational structures are developing there.  The award going to a woman under 40 at a top American institution means that we are on the way to fixing the gender disparity in mathematics.  If she can now get the support she needs at Stanford, others will be able to as well, and more women will want to become mathematicians.  Programs will have to be more attentive to specific needs and concerns of women.  And maybe fifty years from now, the Fields Medal, the Abel Prize, and the Wolf Prize in mathematics will all be able to be given to amazing mathematicians of many genders on a regular basis.

Peace is a Radical Pursuit: A Poem for Shabbat Jazon

Peace is a radical pursuit

Not the desire of polite society

To avoid the drama and chaos

Of conflicting human instinct

The pundits cry out for the moderates

"Where are the reasonable voices?"

They ask for the confrontation-averse

They call for the champions

Of maintaining the status quo

The wise who would rather

Continue to live in a world

Of unchallenged hypocrisy

Where occupation is sustainable

And terrorism acceptable - for now -

As long as it doesn't flood

The news feed or clog

The air waves or clutter

The rabbi's disagreeable sermon

The pundits cry out for the peacemakers

"Where are the reasonable voices?"

They ask for the confrontation-averse

They call for the champions

Of maintaining the status quo

The wise who would rather

Continue to live in a world

Of unchallenged hypocrisy

Where occupation is sustainable

And terrorism acceptable - for now -

As long as it doesn't flood

The news feed or clog

The air waves or inflame

The imam who is a foreigner

Anyway - from the Bronx

How exotic - And always

Jews first and Muslims after

Peace is a radical pursuit

Not meant for civility

Peace is not easy or quiet

It does not make way

For celebrity gossip

Or whatever it is that

Normal people care about

Peace is abnormal, anomalous

A miracle, I say, all say

Peace means I must care 

About your happiness

As much as I care about mine

It means I must hurt about your pain

As much as I hurt about mine

Peace means that I know

That the word naqba

Emotionally translates to galut

That it is real and

That it will be felt

Statehood or not

For the rest of forever

Until mashiaj comes

To be a Jew means that I believe

With perfect faith that she is on her way

Already, though she delays

To be a Jew means to believe

In the radical notion

That peace is possible

Even now, especially now

Achieving peace as a Jew

Means I must be like the disciples

Of Aaron - loving peace and pursuing it

To be a Jew is to be a storyteller

Of exile - of survival

That inspires the Dalai Lama

To be a Jew is to respond

To the most heated argument

With the affirmation

That these and these are

The words of a living God

The merciful, the compassionate

In which I may not believe

To be a Jew means

To not oppress others

Because I know oppression

To be a Jew means I must beat

My swords into plowshares

And my spears into pruning hooks

And then I must beat my plowshares

Into trumpets and my pruning hooks

Into guitars - to be the folk song army

To be a Jew is to turn

To turn my song into prayer

To be a Jew is to end

All my prayers with prayers for peace

And to pray not only with my words

But also with my feet

Peace is a radical pursuit

Not for those who justify any

Violence against tunnelers

Who are obviously up

To no good at all

Not for those who try

To figure out who

Has the moral high ground

Peace does not blame or shame

Peace is not the absence of violence

It is the hurling of understanding

Against hatred, of love

Against fear, of kindness

Against all types of aggression

Peace is a radical pursuit

It is the humble admission

That I don't know
What it's like to be you

That I will never know

What it's like to be you

But that I wish for you

To have everything that I want

And everything that you want

Peace is a radical pursuit

It is the acknowledgement

of guilt and pain and sorrow

Peace is a radical pursuit

It is an offering

Of the broken self

To experience 

Further vulnerability

Peace is a radical pursuit

Peace is not the prophet's vision

Peace is not the musician's hope

Peace is not the artist's aspiration

Peace is not the poet's dream

It is her job

Peace is as close to us

As the air we breathe

And as perplexing

As that breath we spend

So many hours trying to find

Welcome to the world's

Most hazardous occupation

Peace is a radical pursuit

It is not standing with anyone

It is sitting with everyone

It is for the brave-hearted

It is for the strong-willed

It is for the faithful

Peace is the proclamation

That in the face of every

Unimaginable provocation

As well as the expected ones

We will not feed the trolls

Except at the dinner table

Where they should eat more

Moderation perpetuates

Hatred and violence

It exacerbates

The pain of the status quo

Moderation is unreasonable

Peace is the reasonable alternative

Peace is a radical pursuit

Impatient, chutzpadik, a loud

Call to prayer at sunrise

Peace is a pundit

Demanding that we abandon

Being perpetrators and being victims

Peace is an activist

Fighting for its presence

Peace is an organizer

Asking you: Are you radical enough?

Nuanced Perspectives, Digital Media, and Human Beings

After a deliberate absence from digital media following the death of Mr. Boy, I have been re-immersing myself in digital content lately, returning to getting my news online, keeping up with my twitter feed, and catching up on my webcomics, fanfiction serials, and blogs.  Facebook still remains elusive, as any time I log on, somebody is still congratulating me on my marriage, and I don't yet have the strength to change my relationship status.  While on my calculated hiatus, I read the news in the local paper and also the New York times, and kindly bowed out of any discussions regarding new developments on the interwebs.  Returning, I have a new perspective on the way media is produced and reacted to online.

We make big controversies over things that are trivial and minimize or sideline those things that terrify us.  Fierce debate can occur about what really happened in the elevator with Jay-Z and Solange, what should have happened, and how all the players in that situation should act following the incident.  Since none of us have power over what happens in the Carter-Knowles family, we could speculate without consequence.

But when Elliot Rodger killed 6 people and injured 13 others because he felt entitled to have women who rejected him, the internet quickly broke into 3 camps that did not converse with each other.  I'll call the first camp the extremist camp.  This is the camp of people who believe Rodger was justified in doing what he did, or at least that he wouldn't have done it if women had been more reasonable.  Some members of this camp have since been arrested.  The second camp was the feminist camp, which saw Rodger's crime as part of a systematic hatred of women that should not be tolerated, exemplified here.  And the third camp is the isolated crazy person camp, which puts forward Rodger's history of mental illness as explanation of what happened.  After each camp responded, they moved on, focusing on other facets of existence.  They were able to do this by compartmentalizing the killings, either as part of their own crusade against uppity women or as an extreme case of a systemic societal problem (either as perpetrator or victim).  Although their voices on the internet are louder than proportional, advocates of mass murder are few, and the world treated the killings, if not the motivation behind them, as an isolated case.  We compartmentalize mass murder because to treat it as something that could happen to us or by us terrifies us and if we really stopped to consider how anyone could become or be a victim of mass murder, we would cease to be productive citizens.

Still, the approach of over-analyzing topics that we can wrap our heads around and not analyzing those we can't is extremely problematic, as Jonathan Z. Smith outlines in his essay about the White Night.  The essay, entitled "The Devil in Mr. Jones", counters the assertion that Jim Jones was an isolated case in religion and the best approach is to move one.  Smith argues that if we dismiss how the Peoples Temple was started, how it grew, how it developed into Jonestown, and how the White Night occurred as unrelated to the study of religion, we will not understand how Jones manipulated religious phenomena in a way that caused the deaths of over nine hundred people.  If we say that atrocities are only committed outside of a societal framework, we don't correct the societal framework in a way to reduce the occurrence of atrocities.

I've recently read some flame wars on the use of PrEP (a medical phrophylatic approach to reduce risk of contracting HIV).  A bit about the treatment: Truvada is administered to HIV-negative patients who are at high risk of contracting HIV, including men who have sex with men, sex workers, and injection drug users.  Early studies suggest that the prophylaxis is highly effective for males who are compliant with the protocol.  So the flame wars, instead of discussing how we can provide PrEP cheaply to those who may benefit, weigh the merits of advocating PrEP instead of condom use (as if we only have space to do one or the other), and whether we should even be trying to convince gay men that they should alter their behavior to avoid contraction of HIV.  People are arguing over how gay men act or think instead of how to allow this resource to be useful to as many people as possible.

As a Jew, it's been hard to escape the news about the recent kidnappings of students at Yeshivat Har Etzion.  Before going further, let me say the non-nuanced, unequivocal things I think about the situation.  First, these students are victims of a crime.  Second, it is the wish of any decent human being that they be returned safely as quickly as possible.  Third, I believe that the modern State of Israel has a right to exist and a right to govern the land it currently occupies.  Fourth, Palestinians are human beings and have a national identity and have a right to self-determination in their own land.  Fifth, a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the solution most likely to eventually achieve lasting peace and stability in the region, which should be a desired goal for the entire world.  I've followed reporting from various sources with various political inclinations regarding the kidnappings.  But the internet is in two camps: either Israel is at fault for its occupation or the Palestinians (as a whole) are at fault because Jewish teens were kidnapped..  There is no nuance to the argument.  Even Samuel Heilman's article urging a systemic look only advocates that Israel and its yeshivot do more to protect their students to prevent students in yeshivot from getting kidnapped in the first place.

In my own head, the argument is very nuanced.  It starts with compassion for the teenagers and worry about their lives and safety.  I am angry at the kidnappers, but am reserving judgment on whether they acted as a part of a larger organization.  Whenever conflict is at the brink of resolution, violence escalates.  And yes, while Heilman may not think it does much, I am reciting Psalms for the missing boys.  Then, my head goes to the point that Gush Etzion is in the West Bank, and in my mind it is immoral for Jews to occupy the area, and I don't understand any Jew who lives, studies, or sends their children to the area.  And I also know about the four villages in Gush Etzion that existed prior to Israeli Independence that were destroyed by the Arab forces in 1948 and their predecessor Migdal Eder.  And I know the land they were built on at that time was formally purchased despite the fact that it fell on the Arab side of the Partition Plan.  And I know that K'far Etzion was founded in 1968 in part by the families of people who had lived in Gush Etzion prior to 1948.  But, in my view times have changed, politics have changed, and the best way to have avoided the kidnappings in the first place is for Jews to withdraw to Partition Plan borders, or for Jews who do not want to to live under the authority of a Palestinian state.  Currently though, Jews, particularly those involved in perpetuating and expanding formal Jewish structures, living on Palestinian land are part of the problems of occupation.  Yet I know the reality of moving an established yeshiva is not simple.  And I know those kids.  Well, not Naftali Frenkel, Gilad Shaer, or Eyal Yifrah, but those like them.  They are reasonable men who took gap years, or occasionally grew up in Israel and studied at the yeshivot in Gush Etzion, some of which were prestigious.  The range of their politics about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict mirrors that of the Jewish community as a whole: from staunchly anti-Zionist to extremely pro-Israel.  They are, on the whole, nice Jewish boys, who taught me how to identify which yeshiva someone had attended by the specific type of kippah srugah he wore.  And the ones I lived near in college opened their homes to me, a non-observant (by their standards, at least) queer Jew because that was how they wanted to celebrate Shabbat.  And when I married the Catholic Mr. Boy, they sent us the well-wishes of mazel tov and sheva brachos [sic] because they wanted to be a part of our happy occasion.  They are the fiercest pronoun police and can't stand it when anybody does it wrong for me.  And they have taken down mechitzot so I may pray with them.  So, when I hear the developing news and I watch the minutes tick by, I don't see Naftali, Gilad, and Eyal.  I see Yoni, Rafi, and Zach*.  I see Asher, Avi, and Daniel*.

I don't have a way to reconcile my image of settlers helping perpetuate a system of apartheid with the providers of shabbes tisches and blessings for my big gay interfaith wedding.  And absorption in the internet's way of forming camps doesn't help.  But people do.  Being open to making friends with people I never thought I'd interact with, both online and in person, allows me to see the nuance in situations.  It allows me to know that unless someone can have access to a stable living environment and follow up care, he is not likely to be compliant with a PrEP regimen.  It allows me to recognize that Palestinians and settlers are human beings, both when they are living well and when they are choosing poorly.  And it allows me to admit that the stuff that horrifies me horrifies me because it is horrifying, whether it be the mass suicide of an entire religious movement or the kidnapping of boys, and I need to try to understand it rather than compartmentalizing it.

*Names changed to protect identities.

The Menace of HIV/AIDS

I'm sick of correcting people about Mr. Boy dying.  Oh, so he died of cancer?  Well, no, but cancer killed him.  He died of AIDS.  The kind of cancer he had is rarely fatal for those with "normal" immune systems, but the 2-year survival rate for HIV+ folks who get it (because of HIV) is 50%.  But we still don't like to say people died of AIDS.  A long illness, or the secondary cause of death does better, because then we can live in the illusion that AIDS isn't scary anymore.  We can live in the illusion that health care is good enough that as long as HIV+ people have access to it they will be healthy for an indefinite period, and it won't be AIDS that they die of, but something else, and we can protect ourselves from infection.  And we can live in the illusion that there's no longer a stigma about being HIV+.

Maybe it's that I've had a positive partner, or more than "my fair share" of people in my social circle who are positive, that makes me so sensitive to this.  In the US, 1.1 million people are HIV+.  There are more than 315 million people in the US.  1.1 million people represents about one third of one percent of the population.  About 20% of my social circle is positive, and this was also true before I knew Mr. Boy.  In 2010, more than 15,000 Americans died of AIDS.  In 2013, three people in my social circle (including Mr. Boy) died of AIDS.

But the stigma of AIDS is still prevalent in our society.  When I was read as a gay man walking down the street with Mr. Boy, the assumptions of AIDS on people's faces was easily readable.  And in news stories, the assumptions between the lines make me crazy.  There was recently an article in the New York Times shaming gay men for not taking Truvada as a preventative measure.  And the small piece about  Walter Reed blood samples getting mixed up and what Walter Reed is doing to try to find a positive patient is full of stigma.  In the article, the person is assumed to be infecting others through unprotected sex or sharing needles, because the author assumed the risk of having someone who has HIV and does not know it must be elucidated for the reader.  The biggest segment of new infections of the disease is actually the monogamous partners of males who are not monogamous, contracted through heterosexual sex.  Maybe the author knows more about the patient details than I do, but if so, the details should be put to help finding the patient, not toward creating a scare of one HIV+ person who does not know she is.  The CDC estimates almost 1 in 6 positive folks don't know.they are positive, totalling to almost two hundred thousand people.  If that's your story, make it your story, but otherwise, make the story about the inability of military hospitals and their private contractors to maintain accurate patient data.

How the URJ Biennial exacerbated my pet peeves with the Reform Movement

I did not attend the URJ Biennial in San Diego.  My parents did, and I watched videos, though not live broadcasts, as I was busy during the days it occurred.  I was impressed with several of the pieces that are now available on the URJ's YouTube channel including R' Rick Jacobs' keynote, the women clergy (many of whom I learned from at camp and in NFTY) talking about how important NFTY was to their own experience, and R' David Ellenson's d'var torah and blessing of R' Aaron Panken.  I enjoyed learning about the work of the Ruderman Foundation, and fun facts about the progressive nature of the Women of Reform Judaism.  Neshama Carlebach explained how she was made to feel at home in the Reform Movement and is now choosing it for herself.  The cast of musicians was tremendous.  I experienced both naches and horror as current NFTYites cheered (naches because it's NFTY and horror because the cheer has changed in minor ways in the ten and a half years since I was a NFTYite).  I felt proud of the Movement in which I was raised.

Watching the videos from the Biennial also made me aware of the ideological distance between myself and the Reform Movement, even as there are more and more Reform Jews whose personal observance is traditionally radical rather than rebellious.  I felt alienated from the spectacle of pride in a Movement in various ways.

Ideologically, the movement is democratic and capitalist.  The Reform Movement is the movement most focused on inclusion of interfaith families, most talkative on issues of social justice, and claims it is the queer-friendliest (although it does not use that term).  These attributes were trotted out over and over to justify the Reform Movement's market share in America, propped up with unsurprising data from the Pew Research study on American Jewry.  As a socialist raised in the context of multiculturalism who has had the privilege of being a part of genuinely pluralistic Jewish spaces as well as post-denominational Jewish spaces, the competitive nature and liberal democratic values espoused to back it up were a turn-off.  I'm not interested in beating other groups of Jews (or anyone).  And, as my high school English teacher would say, show, don't tell me, that I should want to be a part of your organization.

The Reform Movement has what Rick Jacobs described as respectful differences with Israeli Prime Minister Benyamin Netanyahu.  Support for Israel as a political entity as the democratic and Jewish state was talked of the entire time, ignoring the socialist history of political Zionism, and almost entirely ignoring the injustice of occupation in favor of struggles within "Israeli" society for women's equality and religious (read Jewish religious) freedom (on which R' Rick Jacobs said the Movement and Bibi have respectful differences).  Furthermore, both Bibi and Vice President Joe Biden talked about the importance of keeping Iran from getting nuclear weapons.  Cue Tom Lehrer's "Who's Next?".  My thoughts on Israel, and on the relationship between Israel and American Jewry are quite complex.  Suffice it to say for this that I think the focus of American Jewish engagement with Israel should not be parroting support for injustice by buying into excuses.  The Reform Movement has a vested interest in Israeli politics, having programs and institutions there, and not having its rabbis recognized by the theocratic machine.  Therefore it should be outspoken on every issue that it cares about relating to Israel, and it should not describe any differences regarding subjugation of human beings as "respectful".  It should not stand by when Israel blames the failure of the Peace Process entirely on Palestinians.  As a well-organized body of progressive American Jews, the URJ should exercise its critical perspective on the ways in which Israel does not live up to Reform Jewish values, just as the Religious Action Center does the US government.

Lastly for the major issues, the Campaign for Youth Engagement grates my nerves.  Don't get me wrong; I support the involvement of young Jews in Jewish life.  I benefited tremendously from URJ camping (9 summers at OSRUI and one at Kutz), and my involvement in NFTY led me to feel like a part of the Jewish community rather than a token or an outsider.  The messaging of the Campaign for Youth Engagement is patronizing at best and selfish at worst.  Selfishly, it reads: the reason we should engage youth is that we need somebody to take over for us in 25 years.  The patronizing read is the message: youth are the future of our movement.  As a teenager, being called "the future" was one of the worst things you could say to me.  What I learned from being engaged as a kid and as a teen was that I did not have to wait to express my Judaism.  I was a Jew then, and I could live Jewishly.  My thoughts, insights, learning, and actions as a Jew mattered, even my first summer at camp when I was nine.  As I grew up in the realm of informal Refom Jewish education, I found support for my deepening religious observance in the youth movement and in the professionals who served it.  I found a camp counselor who was extremely traditionally observant.  I found the first person I called my rabbi (who is not ordained as such) in my teacher and mentor Danny Maseng, who implanted within me not only a love for Jewish music but the seeds of the spirituality I am currently building for myself.  I found the first rabbi I would call my rabbi in NFTY in the form of R' Arnold Jacob Wolf, z"l, who knew how to criticize my point of view and point me in the right direction while taking my angry rebellious teenage self absolutely seriously.

A URJ cynic would look at my life and say I am not a success story of Reform Jewish youth engagement. My primary Jewish involvement is not through a Reform congregation, but rather an independent Jewish community called Mishkan run by Rabbi Lizzi Heydemann (ordained at the Ziegler School at American Jewish University, which is affiliated with the Conservative movement) who was also taught by Rabbi Wolf. Since June, for the first time in my life, I do not belong to a URJ congregation.  (Two of the congregations I'm looking at joining happen to be URJ congregations, and one is more traditionally observant than most URJ congregations.)  I married a non-Jew, who, if he survived, would have made the most fabulous rebbetzin [sic].  I am looking toward becoming a rabbi and HUC-JIR is not even on the list of schools I'm considering.  After my first year as a camp counselor, I did not stay involved with OSRUI.  I am far to the left of the Reform Movement politically.  While I consider social justice to be of paramount concern for any Jew, my personal Jewish focus has turned more and more to tikkun middot (which I first learned about at sija in the Bayit at camp).  My theological views include a God that still actively performs miracles.  I can read resurrection of the dead and praying for the coming of the Messiah in metaphorical ways, although I generally prefer to talk of geulah rather than goel whenever possible.  I don't pray for a return of the beit hamikdash, but I do mourn its loss. I believe that we do not have to discard halaja to come up with ethical Judaism.  My political Zionism and my religious Zionism are separate. I don't feel there are any areas of Judaism that are not deserving of questioning.  I feel that there need to be ritual boundaries between what Jews are able to do and what non-Jews are able to do.  This perspective is particularly informed by my growing up with one Jewish and one non-Jewish parent and that non-Jewish parent later converting.  I don't believe that saying we are welcoming makes us so.  And I believe that talking about gender equality as women being equal to men enforces a binary that we should not be enforcing.  So, I'm in no way, the married-to-someone-I-met-in-Tzofim-become-Rosh-Eidah-go-to-HUC-JIR-or-law-school-or-med-school-join-a-Reform-Temple-20s-and-30s-group-future-URJ-board-member success story that the Campaign for Youth Engagement means to create.

However, without Reform Jewish informal education, I would have maxed out the Jewish knowledge of my congregation at an early age.  Without Danny's presence, Judaism would seem entirely intellectual to me.  Without Rabbi Wolf, Judaism would have become a boring set of rules that I didn't even follow.  I would not have developed a daily prayer practice and a reverence for Shabbat.  My parents would not attend synagogue on a weekly basis, and my dad has told me it was my passion for Judaism developed at camp that brought him into the Jewish community as a Jew and not just as related to us.  My partner would not have been enthralled by the rhythms and ethos of Jewish life. We would not have lived in the rhythm of the Jewish week.  And the thought of becoming a rabbi most certainly would not have occurred to me if I had not decided it was the best way to keep coming back to camp every summer for the rest of my life at age nine.  My Judaism might look like my brother's.  My brother had sporadic engagement with Judaism as a youth including a trip to Israel for the Eisendrath International Exchange, had a minor in Jewish studies at San Francisco State mostly because of the rampant anti-Semitism on that campus, and now his Jewish observance is mostly driven by his devout Catholic wife saying "don't you guys do this" and "shouldn't we...".  Judaism for him is at worst something he's stuck with and at best a peripheral connection to the rest of his family.  But then again, he and his wife belong to a Reform synagogue.  There's another possibility for what my Judaism might look like.  I might have gone what R' Benay Lappe calls "Option 2" and thrown out the baby with the bathwater, becoming an atheist who was raised as a Jew or identifying as "spiritual, but not religious".  I might have considered myself too good, too evolved, and too enlightened to practice ancient tribal customs.  My only engagement with Judaism might be seder at my parents' house.  Surely, if somebody had dismissed a teenage me as merely "the future" of Judaism instead of recognized me as a part of its present, I would have been dismissive in return.  Instead, camp and NFTY created places where I could be taken seriously where I was, where I developed the passion which led Judaism to be a central aspect of my life, and where my critiques of current Jewish practice started.  I don't need to feel a part of the Reform Movement, but I do need to feel a part of the Jewish people.  And I didn't feel an emphasis on that from the Biennial.

If Tisha b'Av falls on Rosh Jodesh, do you fast?

The title of the above refers to a trivia question I once answered.  It's a trick question, because Tisha b'Av means the ninth day of the month of av, so it can never fall on Rosh Jodesh, which is the first day of the month.  That said, if Tisha b'Av falls on Shabbat, you commemorate it the next day instead.

Last night, I attended Mishkan's Tisha b'Av observance, which included Ma'ariv, Reading of Eicha (the Book of Lamentations), and a conversation about our sadness and love when it comes to Israel.  As a Tisha b'Av observance, it was the closest I have come to my Tisha b'Av experiences at OSRUI - meaningful, hot, and at some points frustrating.  The pain in the room was real and the mood somber, but somehow, in leaving with the brokenness of the day, I came out more whole.

I did not grow up with a Tisha b'Av observance in my family.  As someone with staunch Reform upbringing, Tisha b'Av was (for those who knew about it) considered an inappropriate holiday to commemorate because the Reform Movement does not believe the destruction of the Temple to be a bad thing, and therefore does not mourn the event.  However, Tisha b'Av was commemorated at my summer camp, in a beautiful fashion that bestowed the day with contemporary meaning for this mourning.  We talked about sinat jinam, the senseless hatred that Jews see as our part in the destruction of the Temple.  But more than that, the ritual was well-crafted to imbue the day with sorrow and with connection to the history of the Jewish people: tragedies and persecution included.  Living in a time of relative peace and privilege for Jews, this connection was new for me.  I am here because my ancestors responded to persecution by making themselves stronger, because the response to the question eicha has been that part is under our control.  We find things we could have done better even when we recognize that others are responsible for inflicting violence, persecution, and genocide on us.  We could sit in our hatred of them or of God, but instead we reflect on what it is about us and the way we live that exacerbates the damage done to us by others.

I remember that unit heads carried the Torah from our units to Port Hall as the rest of us joined hands and walked singing Don McLean's "By the Waters of Babylon."  We entered Port Hall where we snaked around and joined hands with other units as well until everyone had entered and we sat on the ground.  Passages of Eicha were chanted in Hebrew and read in English, and the list of tragedies that ostensibly occurred on Tisha b'Av was read: destruction of the first Temple, destruction of the second Temple, the start of the first crusade, expulsion of the Jews from England, expulsion of the Jews from France, expulsion of the Jews from Spain, declaration of the Final solution, and the beginning of the deportations from the Warsaw ghetto (not to mention the Toraitic events that the rabbis associated with the day).  The history of how each Torah came to be at camp was recounted, with background information of situations of persecution and how Torahs were rescued if that was the case.  Esa einai was often sung, and we walked back after in silence, which was not a common sensory experience at camp.  The next day (Jewish days start at sundown and go to sundown) we would bury religious texts that were no longer usable in the camp genizah.  I don't know how the custom of adding to a genizah became associated with Tisha b'Av, but my conjecture is that Jews find the loss of text to be of similar importance to the crash of an entire way of life.  I carry nostalgia for that Tisha b'Av experience: the sense of connection to my people when all seems lost, and of being able to take concrete action to mourn the past but also of being able to take concrete action to build a better future.

The observance last night included "By the Waters of Babylon" and traditional kinot.  It included chanting of Eicha and reading it in English.  We sat on a hard floor in the summer heat, and although candles burned, we started before sundown and the effect was not one of darkness.  And we had a "conversation" about Israel, which is a topic that many in the Jewish world see as so divisive that we only talk with like-minded folks.  I put conversation in quotes because it wasn't a conversation in the usual sense. We were first asked to consider where our love comes from when it comes to Israel and where our sadness comes from when it comes from Israel.  We were given paper and pens to write our thoughts and some time (although not enough) to consider.  Then we were asked to listen to those who volunteered to share.  This was an exercise in "vulnerable listening," we were told, which apparently means being attentive and nonjudgmental toward the speaker, but also not to display any emotional reaction you may be having.  Sharers were to take no more than three minutes each and were instructed to give their names at the beginning of what they said, speak in "I language," and say "Thank you for listening" at the end, to which the response from the community was "Thank you." These stipulations led one person to comment that it felt like a "Jews Anonymous" meeting.  I think these regulations were necessary for people to feel safe sharing about a sensitive subject, but by no means did they engender conversation.  Sharers could only focus their comments on their own experiences and feelings, which prevented anything I would call conversation (questions asked an answered, deeper thoughts provoked, progression of ideas possible) from taking place.  It was uncomfortable to listen to people vent their frustrations about Israel.  It was hard to maintain a non-emotional face listening as things I disagreed with or agreed with whole-heartedly were said, and especially as others bared their souls, it was hard to resist impulses to comfort.  The discomfort and pain were fitting for the day.  After the discussion and the reading, we had more space for singing and meditating on loss.  Then we had Ma'ariv (no, not traditional, but again, we started before sundown).  We spoke Ma'ariv, which gives an eerie quality to prayer, and is traditional, as music might increase the enjoyment of the experience, and the idea is that one is praying out of spite because one is in too much pain to do otherwise, and we left, only speaking what was necessary to clean up the space after use.  I walked to the Red Line in silence and rode home, also in silence.  To allow ourselves time to process pain and grow from it is extremely powerful.

Would You Risk Arrest to Get Married?

Indiana law defines marriage as being between one man and one woman.  Indiana law also imposes strict penalties for perjury in marriage applications or for applying for marriage when ineligible and penalties for clergy that officiate at marriages which are done under false pretenses.  These laws have been on the books for years.

However, a new law restructuring Indiana penal code makes it easier to prosecute and convict folks for such crimes starting July 2014.  The practical implication of these changes, given the realities on the ground in my home state, is that the combination of these laws will be used to brand as criminals same-sex couples and the clergy who marry them.  It is a felony in Indiana for people to ask the government to look at a piece of paper.

I wish I could say that since I moved out of Indiana, the shenanigans of the state don't bother me as much as they did when I lived there.  However, they bother me more, I suppose, because I have no say in the matter anymore.

There are obvious objections to the ways the laws work together, and it remains to be seen whether any enforcement measures will be taken based on them.  I wonder if I would risk eighteen months in jail to apply for a marriage license.  Would you?

Tzom Qasheh

The Seventeenth of Tammuz is a minor fast day in Jewish tradition which commemorates the breaching of the walls of Jerusalem in 70 CE.  Being a post-biblical minor fast, I did not observe it from the age of thirteen.  The day starts a three-week mourning period between it and Tisha B'av, the day the Second Temple was destroyed.  Tisha B'av is the saddest day of the Jewish year, and many other national tragedies are also commemorated on that day.  I started observing it at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute, which was one of the first observances that made me more frum than my parents.  However, previous to this year, I had never observed Tzom Tammuz or the three-week period called bein hameitzarim (between the narrow places).

Last year, one of the women I am blessed to call "my rabbi" framed bein hameitzarim as the beginning of the trajectory to the High Holy Days.  We hit a communal rock bottom which allows us to do the spiritual work of t'shuvah and reconcile with God during yamim noraim.  So this year, I decided to try fasting for Tzom Tammuz.  Minor fasts are observed from sunup to sundown, and the timing of Tzom Tammuz made it a fast between about 5:15 AM and 9:15 PM.  But due to poor planning, I ended up accidentally fasting for about 28 hours.  Jewish law permits self-care exemptions to fasting, so I did take my medicine.

I wasn't feeling well the day of Tzom Tammuz and stayed home from work.  I spent a large part of the day, lying down, wishing the pain I was feeling would go away, and not really being able to eat even if I had wanted to.  It felt like the world was breaking, which, I suppose is the point.  When the day was over, a neighbor who is a good friend offered to feed me, which was good, because I wasn't sure if I could stand up for long enough to cook something.

As far as how the three weeks are going, I haven't felt too much in a mournful mood.  Although certain things in my life are not desirable (my significant other is very ill), I feel like the events of the week are those of celebration for the most part.  I don't mean to slight to the damage that repealing part of the Voting Rights Act or the limiting of what constitutes a supervisor for harassment cases does to society.  These are unfortunate losses in the fight for equal dignity.  But the Supreme Court asserted that people in same-sex relationships are human.  I didn't need a court to tell me this, but it sure helps that they did.  I feel grateful and victorious, not mournful and sad.  And the coincidence with Pride celebrations just added to my internalization of the collective effervescence.  Additionally, this year, Canada Day, American Independence Day, and Bastille Day all fall during the Three Weeks.  My love's yahrzeit will fall in the Three Weeks this year, but even that does not make me feel spiritually low.  I feel b'midbar, in the wilderness on the slow and steady march to Freedom Land.  We may not be there yet, but we can see it from the mountain top.  That makes me feel spiritually elevated.  I know that I am on the right path, and my community is too.  But then again, perhaps that was my rabbi's point anyway.

We Must Stop Blaming Queer Folk for Our Own Homophobia: A Considered Response to Jay Michaelson's Critique of Dan Savage

There's nothing like a controversy with Dan Savage at the center to get me back to blogging.  I toyed with the idea of writing this as an open letter to Jay Michaelson, but this conversation is really broader than his critique or the responses to it or his responses to them.

I have at times been overwhelmingly supportive of both Mr. Savage and Mr. Michaelson and at other times highly critical of both of their discourses on LGBT life in America, its intersection with institutional powers, and what to do about the problem of homophobic rhetoric from outspoken haters of my queer siblings in American society and American religion.

In an article for The Daily Beast entitled "Is Dan Savage the Gay Santorum?", Mr. Michaelson attacks Mr. Savage for his rhetoric about the Bible in conversation with queerness.  Mr. Michaelson argues that Mr. Savage buys into the organized religious conversation of homophobia and that he is pushing a false understanding of religion as in opposition to queerness.  Mr. Michaelson argues that the social construction of sexuality and homosexuality, which dates from the 19th century, was not original to the Bible and has merely been read into it.  While he is correct in recognizing that it need not be so, the Bible has been interpreted to reinforce the understanding of homosexuality as perversion and sin in society.  Furthermore, Mr. Michaelson argues that we should understand the verses in the Bible which are commonly understood to prohibit anal sex among males narrowly and that religious communities which take or can take such a narrow view of these verses are welcoming places for queer folk.  He argues that the communities that take these verses as only prohibitive of anal sex can be fully affirming of LGBT lives.  I find the assumption that religious values that entail restricting sexual acts and pleasure "support inclusion and affirmation of LGBT lives" a pipe dream rather than a current reality.  Luckily, that pipe dream is Mr. Michaelson's life's work.

I do not wish to enter an argument on what the original intent or current usage of specific Biblical verses means for religiously and secularly identified members of the LGBT community.  That conversation is already robust, and I don't think that's where the problem with Mr. Savage's statements lies or the problem with Mr. Michaelson's response.

Mr. Savage used inflammatory language, as he is wont to do in many circumstances, and shaming tactics to portray the Bible and anti-gay interpretations of it as worthless to the queer community.  He also used anti-gay inflammatory language to attack students who left his presentation because of that vulgarity.  He later apologized for attacking those students.

In Mr. Michaelson's response, he reacts to Dan Savage "feeding into homophobic rhetoric about gays and religion" and presents a moral equivalency between Dan Savage's understanding of organized religion (or at least organized Christianity) as homophobic with Rick Santorum's moral equivalency between homosexuality and bestiality that set off Dan Savage's "Google Santorum" campaign.

My first issue with this reaction is his use of a moral equivalency between Mr. Savage's suspicion of the motives of organized religious groups and Senator Rick Santorum's comparison of homosexuality to bestiality.  In Sen. Santorum's hateful comments, he implies that engaging in sexual relations with people of the same sex is akin to having sexual relations with animals that do not share our language or agency or have the ability to consent.  By calling all homosexual sex rape, Sen. Santorum criminalizes all those who have same-sex relationships, even Mr. Michaelson's description of loving, monogamous, same-sex relationships that some religions support.

Mr. Savage's comments about the Bible are based on the lived experience of discrimination and pain inflicted by various organized religious groups on LGBT persons based on their sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression.  Mr. Michaelson does extremely valuable work within religious communities to make them safe and affirming for LGBT persons, but that work would not be necessary if the organized religious world were already a welcoming place for us.  And many organized religious communities are far behind Jewish groups on efforts of reconciliation with queer folk.  The possibility of friendlier interpretations of Biblical verses exists, but that does not mean it is practiced by most organized religions.  I even find my supposedly rabidly liberal welcoming Reform Movement of Judaism alienating at some points.  Mr. Michaelson seems to assume that because narrow literal interpretations of Biblical verses concerning sexual activities are possible, they are universally adopted by organized religion.  This is false, and as much as I wish all organized religions were queer-inclusive, they are not.

My second and main issue with Mr. Michaelson's critique of Mr. Savage's comments stems from his assumption that because Mr. Savage is a gay icon, he should have to alienate himself from his personal history as a gay man in order to be inclusive of groups that hate him.  Systematic homophobia exists in American society, and even the most outspoken, sexually liberated queers have suffered because of it and have internalized it.  Homophobia hurts everyone, and queerness does not offer us immunity to it.  Dan Savage is not "part of the problem;" he is a product of it.

In the queer activist community, we hold to a myth that we have no shame about being queer and we have moved beyond any homophobia in society.  This myth is false and dangerous, and if we restrict speech about queerness to those who are not influenced by homophobic discourse, we must all be silent.  That is not a solution I can deal with.  When queers are homophobic, we must recognize it as a product of the systematic homophobia in society.  And when we are insensitive with our language, we should apologize as Mr. Savage has for the vulgarities he spouted at those who left his speech when he criticized the Bible.  Let us stop blaming queer folk for homophobia.  That is behavior that the true haters engage in, and Mr. Michaelson has engaged in it by his victim blaming as it relates to Mr. Savage. Blaming Mr. Savage for homophobic remarks that he internalized because of his upbringing in the homophobic atmosphere of the Catholic Church is unproductive.  We must call homophobia for what it is whenever people engage in it, especially when we do it through the ways we shape our discourse or through the ways we blame ourselves and the siblings in our struggle against it.  Instead of arguing over which queer should have a membership card revoked and be the newly-elected homophobe-in-chief, we should be calling attention to the destructive nature of homophobia everywhere it dwells, including within the queer community.  We must acknowledge we have internalized homophobia, even Dan Savage and even Jay Michaelson.  And we should work so that we may become the last fossils of that prejudice in society.

And Jay Michaelson, rather than blaming Dan Savage for being a homophobe, should continue working to establish more queer-friendly religious spaces.  Then young members of the queer community can determine for themselves that on the issue of the Bible, Dan Savage might not have the whole story.

Becoming a Better Ally

I have known people who are polyamorous and out about it for awhile, but over the last few weeks, I have had the realization about myself that I need to be more openly and comfortably polyfriendly.  I am trying to keep educating myself and be aware when my own assumptions about life are colored by the value I place on monogamy.  I want to be able to recognize, acknowledge, and problematize that my own monogamous desires are not shared by everyone, and to speak up when others also use their assumptions about an inherent value on monogamy to evaluate the world and other people.

I am growing particularly more cognizant of this as its own kind of advocacy as more and more of my heterosexual friends are identifying as poly.  I firmly believe that poly is a queer identity and I am becoming aware that my heterosexual poly friends are coming into a queer identity abruptly, not necessarily having already accepted queerness as a mantle.  I hope that more monogamous queer folk will accept lovingly and fully our poly siblings and vocally and actively the systems of oppression surrounding assumption and validation of monogamous relationships.

I know I am still learning and I want help and advice as I strive to be a better ally.

Even When It's Not News

Zachary Quinto made headlines last week when he came out casually during the course of an interview.  I have long been wondering why celebrities have coming out press conferences still.  Quinto, like most people his age, neither feels the need to talk about his sexuality when it is not relevant, nor feels the need to treat his identity as abnormal.  But the media felt like Quinto had duped them into believing he was straight and he pulled a fast one on America.  Quinto talked about his experience as a gay man.  When will the media learn not to be more heteronormative than the rest of the country?

National Coming Out Day

This year, I hadn't even absorbed that the day was happening until it was almost over.  I have so blocked National Coming Out Day from my life and my consciousness that it wasn't until I read the onslaught of Facebook status updates of my friends coming out again.  These cursory reiterations of queerness and other identities are the confident statements of those who hare secure in their understandings of those aspects of themselves.

The most "celebration" I have ever done for National Coming Out Day has been attending the Matthew Shepard Memorial March put together by Chicago's Gay Liberation Network that used to be a much better organization called Chicago Anti-Bashing Network.  There is enough pressure within the queer community to come out without dictating a magic day to be ready.  And there is enough pressure outside and within the queer community to stay in the closet.

As one of my friends from NUJLS would say, coming out is a continual process.  Once you start, you're never done.  There is always someone new to come out to, and identity is complex and changes over time, so there's also always something new or some more nuanced way to come out.

I started thinking about coming out after my love died, and I don't think I told anyone until a year and a half later.  And it wasn't until after my first year of college that I came out to my supportive parents.  If National Coming Out Day had the prominence that it does now, I would have been pressured to come out before I was ready, and I think many people who have started the process of coming out are pressured into declaring their insecure identities to the world before they are ready.

So, if you're reading this and you're considering coming out, know that you are not alone.  You can talk to me or someone else who will maintain your confidentiality while you think your identity through.  Know that even in the closet, you have the support of an amazing network of people who care about you and you are already accepted by the LGBTQ community, or at least the people in it who will matter to you.  We are here for you whatever you decide and whenever you decide.

Republicans and "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is a failed Democratic policy.  Enacted during the Clinton Administration, its purpose was to allow lesbians and gay men to serve in the military.  At all.  In addition to fears of homophobia from higher-ups in the military, it was thought in 1993 that divulging the sexual orientation of a queer service member would leave that service member vulnerable to torture.  There is no evidence that the second is true.  The most prominent group pushing for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" was a Republican group, the Log Cabin Republicans, who were arguing in the courts that the policy was unconstitutional.  The Obama administration pushed for a legislative repeal to avoid embarrassment in the courts.  And they got a legislative repeal.

And now the Republican candidates are all pushing each other out of the way to be the first, loudest, and best proclaimers that if elected president they would reinstate the policy.  This has recently been magnified by the audience at a debate booing a gay soldier serving in Iraq asking a question while all the candidates stood idly by.  Rick Santorum, to whom the question was addressed, did not even thank the soldier for his service until a political pressure steam roller forced him to two days later.

Either the candidates all lack a basic understanding of the separation of powers or they want to abuse executive powers and/or the bully pulpit to enact unconstitutional policies.  Unconstitutional policies military won't last even under Republican authority.  Just look at segregation.  And if Republicans choose to be public faces of homophobia over public faces of supporting soldiers, they're going to lose the support of their base.

Three cases, three responses

I want to talk about cases of three different prisoners.  Sorry, in the time since I first conceived of this post, the opening has to be amended.  I want to talk about two prisoners and one man who was executed.  The three people are Jonathan Pollard, Alan Gross, and Troy Davis, may he rest in peace.

First, I'll review of the cases.  Troy Davis was executed at 11:08 local time in Georgia last night.  Troy Davis was accused and convicted of killing Mark MacPhail, a police officer from Savannah, on the basis of eyewitness testimony from 9 people.  No physical evidence was produced at the time of his trial or since.  No DNA evidence has been produced to support his conviction.  Since his trial in 1991, seven of the nine witnesses have recanted their testimony, several citing police pressure to testify originally.  Davis's lawyers pursued his case to higher courts asking for stays and a chance to prove his innocence.  Many pushed for him to be granted clemency due to the doubt surrounding his guilt.  But, the judicial branch of the government sentenced him to death and the US government murdered him.

Alan Gross has been convicted of subversion in Cuba for smuggling phone equipment to Jewish groups in the country.  Cuba has sentenced him to fifteen years in prison.  The United States has requested release and sent dignitaries to negotiate it.  Gross has lost approximately 100 lbs in prison in Cuba in the last year and a half.  There is currently a push to release him from prison on humanitarian grounds.  Only the severity of the punishment is at issue in this case, not Gross's guilt according to Cuban law.

Jonathan Pollard was convicted of espionage for an allied country without intent to harm the United States.  He passed intelligence information to Israel while serving as a US intelligence officer.  He pled guilty to the crime and is serving (contrary to his plea agreement) a life sentence without parole for his crime.  It is the longest sentence anyone has served for espionage for a US ally.  His health been failing, and none of his requests for parole have been granted despite his long sentence, his good behavior as an inmate, and assurances that he can never pass such secrets again.

I do not think any of these sentences are deserved for the crimes in question, but I must say it is rather hypocritical for the US to call other justice systems oppressive and unjust given its current state.

Kevin McCarthy: Community Organizer?

So a while ago, I was listening to Fresh Air at work.  This was at my previous job (my current one doesn't allow the radio).  The program featured the author of a book about the current House of Representatives, with a particular focus on the 87 Republican freshmen.  The author was particularly focused on analyzing the relationship of the House GOP establishment and the new Republican contingent.  He thought that Kevin McCarthy, the majority whip, was the key player in the conversations between the GOP political insiders and their Tea Party colleagues.  As I listened to how Kevin McCarthy made the House freshmen feel heard even though their demands are rarely met, it seemed as though he was employing the same techniques as many community organizers.  Organizing: it's not just for Democrats any more.

Jew Cool, Politics, and Eric Cantor

I don't know when it started to be cool to be Jewish.  But somehow, the stereotype of the Jewish comedian has morphed from the nebbish Woody Allen to the cool Jon Stewart and Sarah Silverman.  Jews have gone mainstream.  This is progress.  No longer sidelined as much, maligned by the mainstream, or ridiculed, Jews have the opportunity in modern America to be cool. (Just ask Drake if you don't believe me.)

Growing up as this transition was happening, I was taught to appreciate the successes of fellow members of the tribe.  Most notably, this appreciation is codified in Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song, but it extends to other industries as well.  When a Jew gets a promotion or gets elected, I am supposed to be proud, simply because I am also a Jew.

However, this acceptance of Jews into the mainstream allows Jews to feel a part of that mainstream.  Which means?  Jewish Republicans.  And I am supposed to be proud that a Jew is House Majority Leader.  I am supposed to say "look at our progress" when a Jew is on the frontline of the fight to deny Americans basic rights?  I'm sorry, but I can't feel proud of that.  It's a shonde.

September 11th

September 11th is my generation's national unifier. My parents' generation remembers where they were when Kennedy was shot, my grandparents' America was defined by World War II, and their parents' by the Great Depression and World War I. My generation won't look back at the Great Recession, or even the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, as the formative experience in the formation of our America. We will forever be changed by the world stopping on one day ten years ago. When we're old, we'll tell the stories of where we were on that day, what we were doing when we heard the news or saw the Twin Towers collapse. And we'll talk about how that day changed the course of America forever. We may then mention, if we remember, what we were doing in May 2011 when Osama bin Laden was killed, and most of us will have forgotten that the Navy Seal team that killed him suffered casualties in Afghanistan shortly after.

But somehow, the emphasis that we place on 9/11 seems out of place. Perhaps it's the appropriation of the phrase "Never forget" as the mantra of "hunting down" the terrorists so they don't attack us again on "our soil." Growing up Jewish while there was an extreme push to get Holocaust survivors to tell their stories before they pass away, "never forget" is associated in my mind with the systematic massacre of 13 million people by the Nazis. And while the loss of life on 9/11 was a great tragedy, it doesn't register to me on the same level as the extermination campaigns of Adolf Hitler.

We are living in a time that we don't understand. The only constant is uncertainty, and we try to make meaning out of things by making analogies to previous things. We compare bin Laden to Hitler, we compare the Great Recession to the Great Depression, and we compare the technological boom with the industrial revolution. But the truth is we are living in the shadow of things past. And for me, the New Yorker cover Art Spiegelman made as a commemoration is still the most moving memorial of the events. So it is fitting that it later became the cover of his book In the Shadow of No Towers.

Unreasonable Expectations

New York legalized same sex marriage, and religious leaders across the state had a range of reactions to the news. One of the most intriguing reactions was the reaction of the Episcopal Bishop of Long Island, who demanded that priests in his diocese in same-sex relationships needed to marry their partners now that it was legal. Otherwise they would be living in sin. There is a 9-month grace period. after which partners must either marry or the layperson in the couple must move out of church property. This is perhaps the most intriguing implication of the policy for devout practitioners.

First, not all people involved in long-term relationships want to be married. Some couples I know do want to be married but refuse to marry until the federal goverment would recognize marriage of all pairs of consenting adults. Second, I understand that the Episcopal church privileges marriage as an expression of sanctified love and a recognized family unit within the church. However, I feel that for some people who have not yet had the opportunity to consider and evaluate either the legal or spiritual implications of their marriages, to rush them into marriage, even if they are already in a long-term committed relationship. Forcing marriage in a 9-month period seems coercive to my mind, even if the overall goal is in line with Episcopal theology. Pressuring people to marry seems antithetical to any moral philosophy, and I would hope that either the grace period is extended or the church will provide adequate counseling services for both partners in these relationships.

Glenn Beck and Jews

In July, Glenn Beck gave a speech in which he asserted that if Israel is threatened or Jews are being killed, the perpetrators of violence should count him a Jew and come for him first. The statement was somewhat of a political success for Beck, who has been criticized by many for his comments comparing Reform rabbis to Islamist extremists.

I have news for Glenn Beck. If you want to show solidarity with Jews, you cannot pick and choose which Jews you support. Judaism is not a religion of convenience, and the Jewish people are not a nation of convenience. So, let me introduce myself:

I am a liberal, transmasculine Jew, who is attracted to people of a variety of genders. I identify as queer. I was raised in the Reform Movement and still find my Jewish home in a Reform synagogue. I am young, Zionist, and a harsh critic of Israeli policy. I am for peace and Palestinian statehood, not necessarily in that order. I am not traditionally observant, but I am deeply religious. I believe in equal marriage, a woman's right make choices regarding her body, and big government. I believe that Israel needs to obey international law, and I personally hold Israel to a different standard with regard to its politics, policies, and international relations, but mine is a higher standard, not exemptions. I have no plans to move to Israel and no plans to start observing Shabbat in a tradtional way or plans to keep kosher. I have no plans to serve as anyone's token Jew. In my Judaism, recognizing the godliness in every human being is my paramount value. I believe in the separation of church and state in the United States, and I believe I should be able to walk down the street and not be harassed based on my gender expression, sexuality, or religion.

So, Glenn Beck, I ask you, if they come for me first, will you stand up for me? Will you say, count me in community with Kythe because he's a Jew? Or will you say "Kythe is not really a Jew, because good Jews aren't like Kythe?" The difference between you and me, Glenn Beck, is that you can choose in which contexts you affiliate with Jews. I can't.

I am a Jew always, not only when upstanding communiy members are under attack, but also when Jews murder young boys. I am not only a Jew in my synagogue or in interfaith dialogues, but I am a Jew when I am amidst groups of transgender folk, lesbians, gay men, bisexual people, genderqueer persons, and other people who have been systematically dehumanized by religious people and instituitons, including Jewish ones. Judaism is not a hat I take on and put off as it suits me.

I am glad that you were moved about persecution by your experience visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau. But I ask you, will you stick up for all those oppressed, or just those you approve of already?

Also, how will you stick up for others if they come for you first? You are a straight white man of considerable wealth. Using that advantage to end persecution is much better than using it to fall on a sword.

Say publicly that you'll stand up for people like me and I might take your commitment to be counted among Jews seriously. Until then, it's all enunciated hot air.