Testimonies
School (Anonymous)
For the most part I loved attending my Jewish High School. I made some great friends, did well with my studies, played on the school football team and stared in a school production. Despite begging my parents to send me somewhere else after some terrible experiences of Jewish education at my Cheder, going to this school ended up connecting me with my Jewish heritage and Israel. Our Year 9 trip, my first visit to Israel, was probably one of the most transformative experiences in my life so far. It led to be becoming a lot more interested in Israel, going on tour again at 16, spending a year there between school and Uni and coming back to lead on my school’s trip. I also had some particularly talented JS teachers who brought tradition and text to life, when I had previously found it really difficult to relate to Judaism.
I can’t say it was always easy exploring my sexuality within this context, but I had friends I could confide in, and I didn’t feel it was something that always troubled me. I did get a taste for the way “banter” can be hurtful, some of my friends used to joking sing a song to the tune of the Doug cartoon theme…(insert name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al, (name) is a ga-ay poofter, (name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al, but…(name other people around the table) are so won-der-ful, but (name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al…. Looking back now I actually think it was quite funny, but at times when I was finding it harder, this felt like taunting and on some level, led to me keeping my sexual orientation secret for longer.
One of the more difficult moments in terms of being queer & Jewish, occurred when I was in 6th form and after discussions about the authority of God, Torah and Free will. After the class I approached our teacher – a man I still have huge admiration and respect for – and I suggested that it can’t be possible to believe that God wrote the Torah and that he also creates people gay and then instructs laws that make it traumatic for them to be who they are. My teachers response was that we are all created with our challenges that we need to overcome, citing people born with terrible disabilities as an example, and that our challenge is to overcome them through living a Jewish life. I was left shocked, miserable, confused and angry. It seemed to be that Judaism was completely incompatible with contemporary understandings of science, identity, human dignity and expression. I spent most of the next few years rejection all aspects of traditional or religious Jewish life.
Luckily for me I found other Jewish spaces and ways of expressing my Judaism over time that meant I didn’t have to choose between being Queer and being Jewish. I hope that young people in schools, and Jewish schools in particular, aren’t presented with teasing and teaching that make being queer, or different in any way, seem immoral or something to hide. The truth is that far too many young people study in environments that are threatening or distressing if you are LGBTQI and sadly with all but one Jewish High School being orthodox, I fear many are still not doing enough to combat homophobia and create space for all young people to realise their potential. This is what makes the work of Keshet UK so important.
University (David Davidi-Brown)
Like many people, I found going away to university an amazing experience and a time when I was able to bring parts of myself previously more hidden to the forefront. I was less concerned with being who I perceived my friends and family expected me to be. Having been in mainly Jewish environments, I enjoyed meeting a broader range of people. I also discovered my first gay community.
After working as a barman and handing out flyers for a dirty student bar for just over a year, I took a job working at my uni town’s only gay club. There were many reasons why this was a great experience, and even if they were fuelled by relaxing refreshments, the many compliments I received were a huge confidence boost. Although I didn’t realise it enough at the time, what was far more impressive was because there was only one gay club in the town, there was a local gay community, of mixed ages, different cultural and economic backgrounds, who all had fun together and supported one another. Looking back I can see many similarities between the bonds that Jews share and the connections and sense of community that this gay club provided - shared language, sense of being different, common culture and narratives passed from one generation to the next.
It wasn’t all fun and warmth. There were a couple of scary incidents of homophobic abuse witnessed that made me feel bad for mocking the club providing taxis for all their staff at the end of the night – even this we have in common, if only there was a gay CST. Whilst I was out with my university friends, I still found it hard to be completely honest with those friends I’d had for longer. After meeting my first real boyfriend at uni, and enjoying being open around town, I didn’t really think that the few people I knew from back home might see me literally OUT and about. Of course in our small Jewish world it didn’t take long before every one of my friends knew and I started getting calls and texts. It seems I wasn’t quite as comfortable with who I was as I found this period really difficult and turned to ways of coping with it that were less than safe or healthy.
Eventually, with support from friends, I worked this through this challenging time and continued to enjoy my time at university. Since then, when I have spoken with others who’ve had difficult times at university – not necessarily around being queer – they have mentioned the support they accessed through their Jewish society and chaplaincy. It might be that this support would have been forthcoming and I didn’t ask, yet part of me feels that the right assistance was not available. This might be due to the orthodox nature of chaplaincy and leaning of J-SOC and/or a lack of knowledge and understanding about some of the particular challenges for people coming out or risks that are more acute for LGBTQI people. I very much hope the work of Keshet UK with UJS and others will lead to more LGBTQI Jewish students feeling comfortable seeking support from the Jewish services available on campus
University (Anonymous)
This was touted as being "the best time of your life", only for me it wasn't! Struggling to come to terms with my sexuality and what its implications were amidst the surroundings of the heterosexual machismo atmosphere of my course, I found the first few years tumultous. Having been on a year-off in Israel (and met my first girlfriend there) and having grown up in orthodox surroundings within the framework of United Synagogues and Bnei Akiva, I really couldn't fathom where my new place in the Jewish world would be. I wasn't out for a long time and found navigating through my inner feelings and outside persona difficult, the conventions of JSoc and the usual boyfriend-hunting and shidduch-making was painful at times. There were no UK Jewish role models that I knew of at the time, and I really didn't know where to turn. I think although our chaplain and his family were lovely, the fact that they were from the Lubavitch community only served to emphasise my sense of Jewish isolation and loneliness - I knew that once/if I came out my place in the traditional Jewish community in which I was embedded would feel very shakey and uncertain, and I wasn't sure that I had the strength to withstand the potential fall-out. One of the main factors inhibiting my coming out and feeling comfortable with who I was, was the perceived reaction I would have from my family. My parents and siblings are orthodox and are actively involved in the community. I feared that coming out would not only massively upset and disappoint them, but that their position in the community could be compromised.
Although towards the end of university I led a more 'out' life, I was still intent on secreting my sexual orientation from my family, and so my local friends were all sworn to silence if not collusion. The irony of my story is that whilst I lived in fear for so long of the consequences of my queerness on my family's position in the Jewish world, there was never any question that this was a consideration of theirs or that the potential ramifications affected their reaction in any way. Fortunately for me the biggest blessing has been my family's acceptance. Despite my parents and siblings being orthodox, they have all been totally accepting of me and my partners, and have supported me through my journey. It took a move across continents to be able to really express, explore and come to terms with my queerness, and many more years to find a community in which I feel comfortable and accepted. But my family have been my rock, and in the end, showed some of the finest Jewish examples of chesed that one could wish to see.
Youth Movement (David Davidi-Brown)
I loved my youth movement. This was a space that was fun, stimulating and gave me opportunities to develop and lead. Yet for nearly all of the time I was involved, I was not completely open about my sexuality. On the whole, my youth movement was progressive and inclusive and I along with others challenged any overt sexism or homophobia. Yet this wasn't enough. As a young person I had never seen an openly gay or lesbian leader and I felt guilty that I was not stepping up to provide that positive role model for the hundreds of young people I was working with.
In the final summer of my involvement with my youth movement I decided to be more honest and open about my sexuality. As expected it wasn’t really a big deal and didn’t cause any problems.
A few years later when chatting with one of the younger leaders from the movement, he told me that when I came out it gave him the confidence to come out to his friends in the movement as well. On the one hand this felt great to hear that at least one young person had felt more comfortable about being who they were partly because of the example I set. Yet on the other hand, I felt a little more guilty that I hadn’t been more open earlier and provided a positive role model to many more young people.
Keshet UK is working hard to ensure more young people, gay and straight, have role models and leaders who are committed to creating diverse and inclusive spaces. I am optimistic that because of this hard work more young people will be confident and comfortable to bring all of who they are to the wonderful spaces our youth movements create.
For the most part I loved attending my Jewish High School. I made some great friends, did well with my studies, played on the school football team and stared in a school production. Despite begging my parents to send me somewhere else after some terrible experiences of Jewish education at my Cheder, going to this school ended up connecting me with my Jewish heritage and Israel. Our Year 9 trip, my first visit to Israel, was probably one of the most transformative experiences in my life so far. It led to be becoming a lot more interested in Israel, going on tour again at 16, spending a year there between school and Uni and coming back to lead on my school’s trip. I also had some particularly talented JS teachers who brought tradition and text to life, when I had previously found it really difficult to relate to Judaism.
I can’t say it was always easy exploring my sexuality within this context, but I had friends I could confide in, and I didn’t feel it was something that always troubled me. I did get a taste for the way “banter” can be hurtful, some of my friends used to joking sing a song to the tune of the Doug cartoon theme…(insert name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al, (name) is a ga-ay poofter, (name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al, but…(name other people around the table) are so won-der-ful, but (name) is a hom-o-sex-u-al…. Looking back now I actually think it was quite funny, but at times when I was finding it harder, this felt like taunting and on some level, led to me keeping my sexual orientation secret for longer.
One of the more difficult moments in terms of being queer & Jewish, occurred when I was in 6th form and after discussions about the authority of God, Torah and Free will. After the class I approached our teacher – a man I still have huge admiration and respect for – and I suggested that it can’t be possible to believe that God wrote the Torah and that he also creates people gay and then instructs laws that make it traumatic for them to be who they are. My teachers response was that we are all created with our challenges that we need to overcome, citing people born with terrible disabilities as an example, and that our challenge is to overcome them through living a Jewish life. I was left shocked, miserable, confused and angry. It seemed to be that Judaism was completely incompatible with contemporary understandings of science, identity, human dignity and expression. I spent most of the next few years rejection all aspects of traditional or religious Jewish life.
Luckily for me I found other Jewish spaces and ways of expressing my Judaism over time that meant I didn’t have to choose between being Queer and being Jewish. I hope that young people in schools, and Jewish schools in particular, aren’t presented with teasing and teaching that make being queer, or different in any way, seem immoral or something to hide. The truth is that far too many young people study in environments that are threatening or distressing if you are LGBTQI and sadly with all but one Jewish High School being orthodox, I fear many are still not doing enough to combat homophobia and create space for all young people to realise their potential. This is what makes the work of Keshet UK so important.
University (David Davidi-Brown)
Like many people, I found going away to university an amazing experience and a time when I was able to bring parts of myself previously more hidden to the forefront. I was less concerned with being who I perceived my friends and family expected me to be. Having been in mainly Jewish environments, I enjoyed meeting a broader range of people. I also discovered my first gay community.
After working as a barman and handing out flyers for a dirty student bar for just over a year, I took a job working at my uni town’s only gay club. There were many reasons why this was a great experience, and even if they were fuelled by relaxing refreshments, the many compliments I received were a huge confidence boost. Although I didn’t realise it enough at the time, what was far more impressive was because there was only one gay club in the town, there was a local gay community, of mixed ages, different cultural and economic backgrounds, who all had fun together and supported one another. Looking back I can see many similarities between the bonds that Jews share and the connections and sense of community that this gay club provided - shared language, sense of being different, common culture and narratives passed from one generation to the next.
It wasn’t all fun and warmth. There were a couple of scary incidents of homophobic abuse witnessed that made me feel bad for mocking the club providing taxis for all their staff at the end of the night – even this we have in common, if only there was a gay CST. Whilst I was out with my university friends, I still found it hard to be completely honest with those friends I’d had for longer. After meeting my first real boyfriend at uni, and enjoying being open around town, I didn’t really think that the few people I knew from back home might see me literally OUT and about. Of course in our small Jewish world it didn’t take long before every one of my friends knew and I started getting calls and texts. It seems I wasn’t quite as comfortable with who I was as I found this period really difficult and turned to ways of coping with it that were less than safe or healthy.
Eventually, with support from friends, I worked this through this challenging time and continued to enjoy my time at university. Since then, when I have spoken with others who’ve had difficult times at university – not necessarily around being queer – they have mentioned the support they accessed through their Jewish society and chaplaincy. It might be that this support would have been forthcoming and I didn’t ask, yet part of me feels that the right assistance was not available. This might be due to the orthodox nature of chaplaincy and leaning of J-SOC and/or a lack of knowledge and understanding about some of the particular challenges for people coming out or risks that are more acute for LGBTQI people. I very much hope the work of Keshet UK with UJS and others will lead to more LGBTQI Jewish students feeling comfortable seeking support from the Jewish services available on campus
University (Anonymous)
This was touted as being "the best time of your life", only for me it wasn't! Struggling to come to terms with my sexuality and what its implications were amidst the surroundings of the heterosexual machismo atmosphere of my course, I found the first few years tumultous. Having been on a year-off in Israel (and met my first girlfriend there) and having grown up in orthodox surroundings within the framework of United Synagogues and Bnei Akiva, I really couldn't fathom where my new place in the Jewish world would be. I wasn't out for a long time and found navigating through my inner feelings and outside persona difficult, the conventions of JSoc and the usual boyfriend-hunting and shidduch-making was painful at times. There were no UK Jewish role models that I knew of at the time, and I really didn't know where to turn. I think although our chaplain and his family were lovely, the fact that they were from the Lubavitch community only served to emphasise my sense of Jewish isolation and loneliness - I knew that once/if I came out my place in the traditional Jewish community in which I was embedded would feel very shakey and uncertain, and I wasn't sure that I had the strength to withstand the potential fall-out. One of the main factors inhibiting my coming out and feeling comfortable with who I was, was the perceived reaction I would have from my family. My parents and siblings are orthodox and are actively involved in the community. I feared that coming out would not only massively upset and disappoint them, but that their position in the community could be compromised.
Although towards the end of university I led a more 'out' life, I was still intent on secreting my sexual orientation from my family, and so my local friends were all sworn to silence if not collusion. The irony of my story is that whilst I lived in fear for so long of the consequences of my queerness on my family's position in the Jewish world, there was never any question that this was a consideration of theirs or that the potential ramifications affected their reaction in any way. Fortunately for me the biggest blessing has been my family's acceptance. Despite my parents and siblings being orthodox, they have all been totally accepting of me and my partners, and have supported me through my journey. It took a move across continents to be able to really express, explore and come to terms with my queerness, and many more years to find a community in which I feel comfortable and accepted. But my family have been my rock, and in the end, showed some of the finest Jewish examples of chesed that one could wish to see.
Youth Movement (David Davidi-Brown)
I loved my youth movement. This was a space that was fun, stimulating and gave me opportunities to develop and lead. Yet for nearly all of the time I was involved, I was not completely open about my sexuality. On the whole, my youth movement was progressive and inclusive and I along with others challenged any overt sexism or homophobia. Yet this wasn't enough. As a young person I had never seen an openly gay or lesbian leader and I felt guilty that I was not stepping up to provide that positive role model for the hundreds of young people I was working with.
In the final summer of my involvement with my youth movement I decided to be more honest and open about my sexuality. As expected it wasn’t really a big deal and didn’t cause any problems.
A few years later when chatting with one of the younger leaders from the movement, he told me that when I came out it gave him the confidence to come out to his friends in the movement as well. On the one hand this felt great to hear that at least one young person had felt more comfortable about being who they were partly because of the example I set. Yet on the other hand, I felt a little more guilty that I hadn’t been more open earlier and provided a positive role model to many more young people.
Keshet UK is working hard to ensure more young people, gay and straight, have role models and leaders who are committed to creating diverse and inclusive spaces. I am optimistic that because of this hard work more young people will be confident and comfortable to bring all of who they are to the wonderful spaces our youth movements create.