With Every Breath, Spread Joy

In 1996, I came out to my parents at the age of 16, and I was terrified. Afraid that they would kick me out of the house, I made plans with the parents of my best friend to live with them if I needed to. She had an older sibling who was queer and already out, and the family was very accepting. They were my safety net. Fortunately, I didn’t need that safety net. Not to say that my coming out story was a fairytale, but it also was not the nightmare it could have been and that I had prepared for. In the years since, my parents have become much more accepting of not just my queerness, but all the things I do.

I was one of the lucky ones. My parents didn’t kick me out, I didn’t lose all of my friends, and I never faced discrimination or violence due to being gay; that is why Pride is necessary. There are so many kids and adults who are not or were not so lucky. So many of us live in states where it is legal to discriminate against the LGBTQ+ community, especially the transgender community.

After high school, I followed my sister to Sam Houston State University to study psychology with a plan to become a therapist. I completed a Bachelor of Science in psychology, a Master of Arts in counseling, and earned my license as a professional counselor in Texas. In high school, I was lucky enough to have an amazing psychologist and school counselor that helped me through those years, and I was determined to help queer kids, just like myself, become queer adults.

About a year ago, I was in a dark place. I trained as a licensed professional counselor and spent most of my career working in hospital administration. When my former position at a large hospital system was eliminated, I started a new job as Director of Clinical Services at a local for-profit behavioral health hospital. This job was, to put it simply, soul-crushing. I saw children thrown away by their parents because of their sexuality or gender, I saw clinicians overworked and underpaid, and I experienced first-hand the challenges our underfunded behavioral health system face. I would get home from work every day and cry. After 21 years of working in mental health, I needed a change. While at a ritual committee meeting at my home synagogue, Temple Sinai in Houston, Rabbi Lipper told me that Keshet — the national Jewish LGBTQ+ organization — was hiring a Southwest Education and Training Manager. I applied, interviewed, prepared a presentation, and was hired. A few months after starting, I found a note I had written down a few years prior that listed the characteristics of my ideal job. My work at Keshet hit every single one.

However, I really did not know that the best part of the work would be my coworkers. When I think about queer Jewish joy, I think about these people that I gather with regularly on Zoom, that I join with on staff retreats and trainings, that I grieve with when bad news erupts, and that I celebrate with when we have something amazing to share. When I think about queer Jewish joy, I think about these people — with all different gender expressions, different sexualities, different shapes and sizes and abilities and neurodiversity — and what brings us together is love, joy, and a commitment to making the world a more loving and accepting place for Jewish LGBTQ+ folks.

On June 18th, the United States Supreme Court ruled that gender-affirming care could not be extended to transgender children. Cisgender children — children who identify with the gender they were assigned at birth — are permitted to have gender-affirming care. So if a child is assigned male at birth and identifies as a male, but ends up growing breasts, he can have those removed. But if a child who is assigned female at birth and grows to identify as a male wants to have breast removal surgery, this child cannot. When my wife and I explained this to our children, they were baffled that this was not clearly a case of gender-based discrimination. Indeed, if you read the SCOTUS ruling, it is clear that they had to do pretty significant mental and legal gymnastics to justify their ruling. Three Supreme Court justices, in their dissent, called out these gymnastics and said that the majority needed to “call a spade a spade” and deemed this decision state-sanctioned discrimination. Justice Sotomayor, who wrote the dissenting opinion, made the rare and bold choice to read her dissent from the bench. Notably, she did not sign her ruling, “In respect, I dissent;” she signed it, “In sadness, I dissent.”

I have to be honest: there are a lot of reasons for fear right now. So many queer folks feel erased. But one thing keeps us fighting. One thing keeps us going, and that is our commitment to love and faith, to justice and inclusion, and most of all – to queer joy.

In 1941, FDR gave his State of the Union Address and spoke of “Four Freedoms” that are essential to human life: freedom to express ourselves, freedom to worship in our preferred manner, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. Pay attention to the difference in language here—freedom TO express ourselves, freedom TO worship, and freedom FROM want and fear. “Freedom to” is about individual liberty, while “freedom from” is about societal responsibility. Right now, so many queer folks are in a state of fear. Transgender folks report not being able to get a passport because their gender identity doesn’t match the gender listed on their birth certificate. Families with transgender children are scrambling to find appropriate medical care because they live in states with state-sanctioned discrimination against trans people, and some are even moving so they can support their children. Queer folks who are married worry that their right to be married will be taken away, as conservative Supreme Court justices have stated they are interested in reviewing Obergefell v. Hodges, the case that legalized marriage for same-sex couples. Corporations that used to support the LGBTQ+ community have rolled back their support and participation in Pride events. If FDR is right and we have the right to freedom from fear, then our society is failing, and failing badly.

It is our job, as humans and as Jews, to stand up for our marginalized communities. Much like the lesbian community came forward and stepped up to help care for gay men during the AIDS crisis, I call on the cisgender community to come forward and step up for the transgender community. I call on the straight community to become active allies for the queer community. I call on everyone to have open minds and open hearts, to choose love over fear every time we can. And I call on everyone to lean into joy.

Joy is resistance. Queer joy is resistance. Jewish joy is resistance. So raise your rainbow flags. Show your pride. March in this year’s Pride parade. Take action by contacting your elected officials. Educate yourself and stay informed. Educate others. Advocate for equity and belonging within your own community and organizations. Know about and share relevant resources. Organize your community. Know and use the power of your own language and behavior. Contact your local media, Jewish and non-Jewish. Support queer- and trans-owned or -run projects and businesses. Donate money and volunteer time to organizations working for LGBTQ+ rights. With every breath — this month, and every month — spread joy.