Gotta Give 'Em Hope

The Price of Telling the Truth - Publicly

2013-04-01T03:34:00.001-04:00

Ever since I started speaking publicly about personal things that I’ve experienced throughout my life, I’ve received many hate filled emails, facebook messages, tweets and even sometimes phone calls. The truth is though, these hateful messages from anonymous people were by no means a match against the love and support that I’ve received from many others. I’ve said this on more than one occasion and I truly believe it, “my friends are more powerful than my enemies”. The love and support that has come my way from so many people, people who weren’t afraid to use their real names, and in some cases couldn’t use their real name because of various reasons, was something that I never thought would be possible years ago when I was alone and without hope.

On the other hand, very rarely have I ever received a hateful message from someone using their real name, email address, facebook account or even twitter handle. It amazes me how easy it is for people to hide behind a computer screen and spew words of venom, words of hate, words of intolerance, but mostly, words of a coward.

While generally I refuse to give these poor excuses for human beings any sort of voice or platform within the context of my writing and activism, I think it’s extremely important to show others who are contemplating sharing their stories publicly that, while the haters are gonna hate, the fanatics will continue to be fanatics no matter what you tell them, and the trolls hiding behind fake Facebook profiles and Twitter handles will try to destroy your light, your supporters will always outnumber them. This experience is something that I know to be true for me, and I know that it’s true for many of the other people that I’ve had the privilege of working and being in the public eye with.

Lately, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in which I haven’t come across a really hateful message or email directed at me. Since my abuser was recently arrested in Israel, these messages seemed to increase and become even more vile, yet instead of wanting to go and drop dead like many of these people wished I would, I feel even more empowered to continue fighting for the truth, for justice, and for accountability.

What makes this difficult is the way these hateful messages affect the people who I love and care about, the people who did not decide to be public about their lives, most of these people are my family members, my siblings and my parents. A few individuals have had the audacity to take shots at my parents, my siblings, my other relatives and even some of my friends by spreading lies and untrue alleged "facts" about my family. Once again I find it absolutely unbelievable how far people would go just to spread the opposite of love and hope, yet these individuals don’t have the courage to at least use their real names while spewing their intolerant and idiotic choices for words.

The price of telling the truth is not and will never be something I ever regret paying. The truth has always been the most powerful guiding force in my life; the truth is something that I believe is worth fighting for no matter what the consequences are. And the reality is, the price of telling a lie is much higher than that of telling the truth.

So let the haters hate, let the trolls spew their comments and theories about us, but remember that by standing tall and telling the truth no matter how many people don’t like it, is something that you’ll never regret, I promise you.

#Keepgivingthemhopeforever

Chasing the Devil - Sholom Eichler in Shackles

2013-03-24T00:50:00.000-04:00

Sholom Eichler was arrested on March 21st near Kfar Chabad for sexually abusing me as a child. I had already filed a civil lawsuit against him in New York and he ignored the lawsuit and fled to Israel with his family. The result of that lawsuit is still pending, I was awarded a default judgment against him and will hopefully know the amount of that judgment by this coming Monday, March 25th.

As I’ve written previously on my Facebook page and have told many people as well, the last place that Sholom Eichler molested me was when our families were visiting Israel together on a family trip while we were staying at the [then Hilton] David Citadel hotel. The details of that incident, along with many of the other incidents remain clear as day in my mind; I even remember the room number that he abused me in while we were in Jerusalem.

After ignoring the civil lawsuit against him in New York Sholom Eichler and his family fled to Israel because of the default judgment that I was granted against him. Unfortunately for Eichler, the criminal statute of limitations are much broader and severe in Israel, and so I spent the past few months researching my options before deciding to press criminal charges against him. It pains me greatly to know that there are so many sex offenders out there whose victims have the ability to bring them to justice but are too afraid to do so because of community or family pressure, or because they don’t feel strong enough. For 7 seven years I was frightened by the prospect of forcing Sholom Eichler into a courtroom or even confronting him, and it is thanks to the support of many great survivors, advocates, friends and family who showed me that it’s possible to pursue justice despite the staggering intimidation that many victims face once reporting their crime and/or going public especially when coming from more religious communities.

The Israeli justice system operates quite differently than what I was familiar with in regards to how sexual abuse cases are handled in the US. After I received confirmation on Thursday morning that Eichler was arrested, the police requested that I be on “standby” for when they would call me. I thought they would ask me to ID Eichler or something, but what came next was very unexpected. I was brought into a fairly small room with three police interrogators, one of them a translator, and was directed to sit in a seat right across from Sholom Eichler where he was sitting with shackles on his feet.

The main interrogator read Eichler his right to remain silent and warned him that anything he said would be used against him. I was still absorbing the fact that I was sitting right in front of the monster who took so much away from me, the monster that caused so much damage that no amount of therapy will ever undo, but within two minutes I was able to gain my bearings. According to legal experts in Israel, this process is called “eimut” (confrontation) and is used by interrogators to observe the body language between the victim and the accused. I was instructed to look at Eichler and tell him what he did to me, they were adamant that I describe every incident in detail and not hold back on anything. It was at that moment that I looked at the monster in the eyes and told him exactly what he did to me, where he did it and the painful and sensitive details of the times he abused me.

This “confrontation” was sort of like a court proceeding, after I gave my opening statement Eichler was given a chance to respond to what I said, and without an ounce of shame or remorse he attempted to deny everything that I claimed he had done to me. With every word he spoke, with every lie he told I felt my blood boiling to the point where I thought I was going to explode, but although he was lying, his body language was telling a very different story. He was completely unhinged and was shaking non stop, he sounded like he was on the brink of tears and his attempts to discredit what I was saying were clearly not working. One of the things I confronted him about was about a meeting that he and I had five years ago before he got married in which he apologized to me for what he had done to me. I looked at him and said “how dare you sit right in front of me and call me a liar? How do you live with yourself knowing what you did despite the fact that not only did you apologize to me but also admitted your crimes against me to my older brother and my mother as well?”. Eichler admitted to meeting me five years ago, (something he denied until now) and said “I didn’t apologize for what I did to you, I apologized for how you were feeling”.

I pressed further and recounted in vivid detail how Eichler used to wait on his parents’ porch that was just across the street of my school for when I would be walking home from school so that he can lure me inside to commit those unspeakable acts. I also recounted the times that he abused me in the synagogue that our families attended, in my parents’ house, upstate at the bungalow colony that our families both attended during the summer, and of course, one of the most brutal incidents, the last time, in that hotel in Jerusalem on the fifth floor. Eichler had the audacity to attempt and accuse my older brothers of actually abusing me; and when asked by the interrogators why I would make such claims against him he said that he was the “perfect target”. I responded to that by saying that if i was looking for a “perfect target” I would have gone after one of his older brothers which would have ensured that one of them would be sitting in American prison today because they would’ve been well within the criminal statute of limitations within the American justice system.

Those twenty minutes felt like hours and most of the exact details are quite blurred in my head at this point, but luckily it was all on the record and will surely be used to prove his guilt in criminal court. What I remember was the feeling of empowerment I felt when I looked at this evil excuse for a man in the eye and told him exactly what he had done to me and the look on his face, the expression of guilt and shame, feelings that I felt for far too long because of what he had done to me; the tables had finally turned and for the first time in thirteen years Sholom Eichler finally had to answer for his heinous crimes. After leaving that room, I felt nothing but strength and a certain of closure. As painful and emotional as that confrontation was for me, it reminded me that pursuing justice is one of the most important things that a person could do in his or her life.

Eichler was released on bail the next day, the exact amount is still unknown to me but I hope to find out soon, and it is my sincere hope that he will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I hope that others will learn by example that while at certain points the prospect of facing their abuser might seem impossible but the truth is that with the right amount of support, therapy, and healing facing one’s abuser IS possible and the power that abusers enjoy over their victims (the way Eichler had power over me) diminish over time.

Aside from knowing that it was my obligation to make sure that Eichler answer for his crimes and that I exercise every single legal option that was available to me in order to do so, I hope that by pressing criminal and civil charges against my abuser a better precedent will be set in the future for those struggling with the decision of if and how they should take action against those who stole part of their innocence, part of their soul. I know that by being so public about my past and about what was done to me is giving a voice to so many who feel like theirs was taken from them, something I once felt all the time. I’ve been publicly shamed on more than one occasion; anonymous emails and tweets from people who don’t even have the courage to use their real names remind me the importance of this journey and only empower me even more to pursue justice. Those voices of hate and negativity fade and the voices of my family, friends and every single person who supported me and encouraged me echo loudly for me and for the world to hear, to you all, I am thankful, I wouldn’t be here without you.

Hebrew Theological School Apologizes to Sexual Abuse Survivor Put on Notice

2013-03-04T08:46:00.000-05:00

Last Thursday, Kaylie* (a pseudonym) was placed on notice for misconduct at Hebrew Theological College for disclosing on Facebook that she is a survivor of sexual abuse. She had felt that she must stand against the attitude that survivors are defective. Ironically, her dean declared very coldly as result that Kaylie* thus appeared “less than human”, “besmirching” her peers and school, and ordered Kaylie’s* silence under the threat of expulsion. After an outcry against her insensitive, outrageous remarks to and action against Kaylie*, Dean Esther Shkop of Hebrew Theological College’s Torani L’Banot school offered an apology yesterday, as well as hope that things will be different in the future:

Dear Kaylie*,

Over the last number of difficult days, regret and a stirring sadness have overtaken me because of the insensitive and harsh email I recently sent you. I ask for your mechila [forgiveness] and extend you my deepest apology.

Inasmuch as [Torani L'Banot] has always endeavored to provide all of our students with full academic, emotional, and spiritual support - taking into account the variety of life experiences - it has become clear to me that we must do a better job in creating both the appropriate environment and the systems necessary to support our students in their greatest hour of need. I do maintain our position that it is not in keeping with the standards of Tznius [modesty] and fundamentally unsafe to post intimate information about oneself and others on social media. [Torani L'Banot], therefore, provides a private and safe forum for support and guidance.

We know that the Almighty places tests before us not only to draw closer to the Creator of the World, but to bolster our capabilities in improving the lives of His children, particularly those that are in great pain and in need of our help and support. We will be assembling the expertise needed to make recommendations to the Board and to me on the resources and support systems we must improve to serve our cherished students to the fullest extent of our capability.

We as Jewish educators of young adults are on the front-line of life’s many challenges. Tragically, the scourge of sexual abuse and misconduct has not spared the Orthodox community and its precious children. We, therefore, must continue to be an institution that sets the standard in helping and supporting our students as they demonstrate the bravery and fortitude required for the healing process. This is the test the Ribbono Shel O’lam [Lord of the Universe] has clearly put before me in the wake of my private email to you.

Sincerely,

Dr. Esther M. Shkop

Dr Shkop’s largely impersonal, boilerplate email may be lacking clarification of policy, unequivocal rescission of disciplinary action and, more importantly, complete disavowal of the suggestion that being sexually abused or talking about it reflects negatively on the survivor and is somehow indecency. However, it does offer a personal apology and the promise of better resources and support for students in general. Dr Shkop has recognized the damaging power of her earlier words, attitudes and actions and undertaken that she and the school will respond appropriately in the future. It takes courage to recognize wrongdoing and great conviction to avoid it in the future.

Dr Shkop’s courage and conviction here is a fitting and inspiring response to Kaylie’s* own. Despite negative comments and insults hurled her way, first by her dean, then by commentators who had read nothing more than that she dared admit that she had been sexually abused, Kaylie* has remained strong and steadfast, delivering a very important message: we cannot and will not be silent about sexual abuse or our communities’ reactions to the topic and survivors.

Kaylie* will continue to take a stand against sexual abuse and mistreatment of survivors, both on facebook and her new blog, kaylieofthewhistleblowers.blogspot.com. She is relieved that her academic career is no longer threatened. On this experience, Kaylie* reflects:

I’ve been told to keep quiet for as long as I can remember. My rapist told me not to tell. I could not, but I needed to. That night, I stood in front of my father and tried to tell him what had happened — tried to find some way to explain what went on while he and my mother weren’t home. I had no way to explain what my rapist had done. I could not put terms to the body parts, and no one ever warned me that what had happened was wrong. I only knew that my rapist had tried to manipulate me into stripping for him by telling me he would give me eight dollars and that, after he raped me, he did not pay up. I told my father that I was owed eight dollars… but I could not explain why. I was 7, and these were things that were not talked about.

That silence, that tugging feeling of anguish in my throat with no words to set it free, has stayed with me for years. I was told to not tell my parents. When I finally started speaking about any of the pain within me, I was told to not talk about it to others.

Over the years, I have made a tremendous amount of progress with my therapist. There are many organizations that can help survivors, but they can only help the ones they know about. What about the ones they do not know about? Who will help them? They can only be helped once they reached out... and they can only reach out when they know it is possible to. I came out because I had been one of the girls which were under the radar. They had no way of knowing about me. They have no way about knowing about so many. That's why I came out.

Silence is overrated. There's nothing golden about it when it's hiding the worst pain.

I was shocked because of the underlying message of the first email — that we, as survivors, are somehow the bad ones. That was the very same attitude I had taken a stand against in coming out as a survivor; it breeds silence and allows the attitude to fester from the silent anguish inside victims. This pain and the fear of being expelled from college was what drove me to contact Chaim Levin.

By bringing public attention to what was happening at school, I hoped that this attitude might be reexamined and that I would be able to remain in a school which I had come to truly love. HTC is a wonderful place — the faculty is professional while retaining a level of friendliness towards the students, and every single professor is genuinely interested in the welfare and the progress of the students, as is Dr. Shkop.

The choice Dr. Shkop made when she emailed me her beautiful apology was a wise one — she put her institution at the forefront of schools taking steps to protect and support survivors of sexual abuse. I greatly admire her strength in admitting to her mistakes, and I am very happy we were able to reach a détente. The compromises we both made were not necessarily enormous, but the ripple effect of her actions will, God willing, make an effect which is more than enormous. Pain and darkness can only be fought with a passion for the light, and that passion is something Dr. Shkop exudes in abundance. The darkness every survivor has lived in can only last so long, and, with every step forward, another bit of pain is alchemized into something truly precious — hope.

**update***

Hebrew Theological College released this statement on their website this afternoon.

Tragically and painfully, sexual abuse and misconduct is a plague in our world and our Orthodox community has not been spared. Throughout its history, Hebrew Theological College has always provided caring support and guidance for its students. We are proud of this tradition and are committed to continue to actively demonstrate the highest ideals of Torah and Chesed. Regrettably, in a recent communication with a student who enrolled in our school with a past history of being a victim of sexual abuse, we failed to exercise appropriate sensitivity. As a consequence, we regard this as a catalyst for immediate action, growth and institutional improvement.

Our Board and Executive Leadership are now in the process of identifying a cross section of experts to present recommendations to us that will enable us to develop the resources and support systems needed so that we are positioned to the fullest extent possible to help our students through the healing process.

Sexual Abuse Victim Demeaned and Put on Notice for Misconduct at Hebrew Theological College

2013-02-28T16:59:00.000-05:00

Hebrew Theological College Dean Doctor Esther Shkop demeans student survivor of sexual abuse and puts her on notice for having the audacity to talk about her experience. Kaylie's* (a pseudonym) courage is to be applauded. The college's actions are outrageous.

Kaylie*, an 18 year old College student in Chicago, had recently posted this image on her Facebook page with this caption:

“I'm a survivor of sexual abuse.

This is not a new thing. I've been a survivor as long as you've known me.

Are you going to change your opinion of me just because three evil people took advantage of me?

Are you embarrassed of me? Are you willing to share our story?

Let's see who my real friends are.”

Just a few hours ago, Kaylie* received the following email from one of the dean’s at her school with the subject line “Breaking all Boundaries”:

From: Esther Shkop <shkop@htc.edu>

Date: Thu, Feb 28, 2013 at 12:11 PM

Subject: Breaking all Boundaries

To: [REDACTED]

Cc: "olstein@htc.edu" <olstein@htc.edu>, "lipshitz@htc.edu" <lipshitz@htc.edu>

I received an anonymous phone call last night with a message from one of your "friends" on Facebook, who expressed great consternation and concern that you have chosen to publicize to "friends" (regardless of their age, sincerity and level of intimacy) your history of sexual abuse. Your public Facebook page is troubling enough, as is your Google history [which are open to the whole world]. It is troubling primarily because you have chosen to identify yourself by your pathology. You no longer appear as a full human - but rather as "case study" of a young woman warped by her childhood experiences, and is thus identified wholly by that past.

I am not asking you to deny your pain. I am asking you to exercise a measure of discretion, and develop a plan to go beyond your past towards healing. You seem too intent on wallowing in the past, and drawing sick attention to yourself for all of the wrong reasons.

At the same, you identify yourself as a student of Hebrew Theological College, and by association besmirch your peers as well as yourself.

This misuse of social media is definitely a violation of the HTC Personal Conduct Policy (see page 17 in the Student Handbook). Consequently, the HTC Administration is putting you on formal notice that all inappropriate materials should be removed from your Facebook page forthwith - both on the front page and the back pages.

If you have questions about what is and is not appropriate, feel free to come to speak to me or Mrs. Lipshitz.

Sincerely,

Esther Shkop

Esther M. Shkop, Ph.D.

Dean, Machon Torani L'Banot

Blitstein Institute of Hebrew Theological College

2606 West Touhy Avenue

Chicago, IL 60645

773-973-0241

Hebrew Theological College’s actions would reduce free speech to misconduct and Kaylie* and her courage to nothing. The school’s actions are the only misconduct, and it is utterly horrendous.

If you believe the school should rescind its notice of misconduct and issue an apology to Kyalie* and other survivors, please contact:

Chancellor, Dr. Jerold Rabbi Isenberg
isenberg@htc.edu

Dean Shkop
shkop@htc.edu

Assitant Dean, Rita Lipshitz

lipshitz@htc.edu

One Year of Hope - To Many More!

2013-02-09T14:52:00.002-05:00

This past week on February 4th I celebrated the one year anniversary of this blog. It’s been a crazy year to say the least, I have grown in many different ways and have accomplished things that three years ago never seemed possible or logical in my mind. One year of hope, one year of light, one year of putting my personal trials and tribulations of what it meant to grow up gay in the Jewish orthodox community as well as experiencing severe sexual abuse during my childhood, one year.

As I reflect on the incredible amount of feedback that I’ve gotten since I started this blog, I can only look at the future with a lot more hope than I had when I was 16, alone, confused about who I was without an ounce of hope or light for the future. As I look back at the incredible stories that so many brave people have shared with me along the way I feel nothing but inspired and even more motivated to continue this incredible and vital mission of giving others hope.

I know that I am extremely lucky to be living in this day and age where any teenager or individual struggling can turn on the internet and type in keywords such as gay, orthodox, Jewish, sexual abuse, and other hot button words that have been talked about a lot over the past year and find an arsenal of hopeful resources at their disposal; when I was 17, these resources and this amount of awareness were practically non existent.

I hope that this blog along with the many other great resources out there will continue bringing hope to those who need it most. I also believe that now is the time to stand up to the currents that are standing against us, the currents of those who choose to be intolerant of others, ignorant of the tragic damage sexual abuse causes, and the currents of those who knowingly continue to live in ignorance despite the clear and unmistakable reality that proves otherwise.

I want to end on a personal note by thanking every single person who has helped me turn this dream into a reality. So many of you have reached out to offer feedback, support, and most importantly encouragement that reminded me just how important this work really is and that it must be continued and grown so that every single person in this world will know that he or she has a chance at a bright and hopeful future.

With much gratitude and awe,

Chaim Levin

Brief Statement by Former Student of Rabbi Manis Friedman at Beis Chana

2013-01-29T16:34:00.000-05:00

Personal Note: The following article was relayed by a former student of Rabbi Friedman. My own personal thoughts and reflection will be forthcoming very soon. -Chaim Levin

Written by Sara Pruce

It is interesting to me that so many people are surprised by the words of Manis Friedman that have recently been exposed. As a person who has spent some time in his company, I am not in the least bit surprised. Upset, yes, surprised, not at all. Maybe I have been waiting for this. For him to word things a little less articulately so that his actual intentions are obvious.

I believe this man is dangerous. He is capable of sounding brilliant, while being ignorant. He is capable of making people feel understood, while belittling their experiences.

It is true, what he said, he is not a psychologist. He does not understand trauma or abuse. When I was in his company I experienced the death of a six year old boy who I had held dear. When I heard the news of his death, I was so broken inside. I cried, and the Rabbi´s reaction to my tears was to accuse me of not being a believer. If I believed in god, I would know this was meant to be. That it was something good. That is the most insensitive, ignorant reaction to a person’s emotion I can imagine.

His words on molestation are equally hurtful and ignorant. However, what I am clear on, is that this is not an isolated incident.

I worry for the people who cannot see past his articulate, diplomatic voice. It is dangerous to an insulated community to have a revered elder who is so closed to the obvious problems that exist.

I was once at a lecture on Judaism and Justice, where we were asked whether we thought being religious helped or hurt our cause. I thought it was obvious, that being religious made people more sensitive and motivated them to do good. However, one member of the group spoke up and said that sometimes, people get to a point in their religion where they think that praying for things to be alright is enough, and they stop trying to fix the problem. I believe it is imperative to look at ourselves really closely and make sure we are not in that place. There are problems that need to be fixed and we need to use religion to motivate and sensitize us, not as an excuse to do nothing.

I have deep respect for the members of the community that are beginning to come forward and talk about how much damage abuse can do. I have deep respect for the parents who are attending lectures on keeping their kids safe, who are talking to their children and who are investigating claims. I have respect for the people who are believers but do not allow that to cloud their view, do not allow that to hurt innocent people.

Out In Lubavitch

2013-01-07T12:34:00.000-05:00

Growing up and coming out in the Chabad Lubavitch community of Crown Heights

The atmosphere buzzed with energy and talk about who we are as Chassidim and disciples of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe at a farbrengen (gathering) for a former classmate's birthday a few months ago. While familiar with these affairs, I hadn’t been to one in quite awhile. As at any good farbrengen and after a few shots, I started talking about growing up Chabad and gay. Some did not deign to acknowledge the topic at all; others approached it with anxiety and trepidation. It is simply not normal to discuss such things at these get togethers — but, hey, I didn’t become an activist by remaining silent. After we started peacefully discussing different aspects of homosexuality in the Jewish community, I tried to make an important point. I observed to an individual, who had expressed homophobic leanings and tried to minimize the issues that LGBTQ people face within more orthodox communities, that, while I may very well be the only out gay person sitting at this table of 20, it is very unlikely that I am the only gay person there. He tried to refute me claiming that he knew for a fact that I was the only gay person there — the all too common, blanket, unfounded denial that feeds alienation and isolation of queer people within the Chassidic community.

But, my statement was assured; we are here, many still struggling in silence and fear, and we are not alone.

Many people from frum/Orthodox communities have contacted me seeking guidance and advice. Like me at one time, they’ve felt alone and had never spoke to an out gay person. They've thought it might just be a phase that would hopefully go away if only they met the “right girl”. Trying my best to be objective and honest, I answer their questions about what it is like living as I do with the “whole world” knowing and how people have reacted towards my being openly gay.

It hasn’t always been a picnic. Coming out especially in Chassidic communities can be detrimental to one’s self, family and overall sanity if not prepared. Sometimes I feel as if I were pushed out. I had confided in a friend while at yeshiva in Brunoy, France, at the age of 16 (yes, I really was a Brunoy boy). Soon the entire school of more than 400 found out about me. Publicly humiliated by some and ignored by most an ocean away from home, I was seen as a diseased person who did not belong. During those 8 trying months at yeshiva, some denial about the gossip and hatred helped me to survive, not to mention the support of the very few who I would dare say were real Chassidim — those who, despite the fact that they had never heard of such a thing in their lives, remained my friends and were supportive of me, genuine, accepting and inviting unconditionally.

Still I felt isolated and was unaccepting of myself until, paradoxically, I sought out reparative ‘therapy’, hoping to become straight in order to be accepted by the only community I had ever known. I had never interacted with anyone who wasn’t a fellow Lubavitcher until I was 18. Trying everything I could to assure my place in my family and community, I inadvertently ventured into the outside world, met others who were struggling and developed a somewhat different perspective. I learned there were other kinds of Chassidim and Jewish people out there — ones like me. I found myself exploring a new world. Yet, I did not fully accept who I am until I was 20. Some skeptics and critics try to convince me that by living my life honestly, I’m hurting my family and my soul. Until I was 20, I had wrenched, wrung and racked my soul, praying, pleading, begging for some miracle to turn me straight during weekly trips to the Ohel (the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s resting place). The best thing that ever happened to my soul was finding peace when I stopped fighting against, not a “desire” or “inclination” as some would describe it, but an inalienable part of me.

Even though I was able to accept myself, experience made me pessimistic about my community. Fortunately though, living in Crown Heights has gotten easier and easier by the day. Today 6 years after I was outed, I've been pleasantly surprised by people on the street, patting on the back and letting me know that they’re supportive of me and my journey. And, once dismissive, long time family friends have told me on many occasions, “Chaim, I love you and accept you as you are.” A very Lubavitch attitude indeed. This is the message Chabad tries to spread and instill around the world — that every single Jewish soul is worthy, a ray of light with something to offer. Still, I never thought I would experience this attitude usually reserved for those who drive to shul on Shabbos and but nonetheless try to return to Orthodoxy at Chabad houses around the world — certainly, not among our very own friends, family and community in Crown Heights, in “the Rebbe’s schunah” (neighborhood).

In Crown Heights, I have occasionally had the great displeasure of bumping into people like Molly Resnick, whom many consider one of the greatest, most public examples of intolerance and bigotry within the Lubavitch movement today. Nonetheless, the voices of the Molly Resnicks are being drowned out by the people, including my own family, who have grown, not just to tolerate me, but to embrace me fully for who I am.

credit for design, Maya Avisar; original picture, wikimedia

“Once a Chassid, always a Chassid” is often heard at the Chabad schools, camps and farbrengens. Still, I do not consider myself as religious as I once was. However, when I started dating someone a year and a half ago, I did take some pride in having grown up Orthodox and being able to tell him about it. He had grown up in a rural area with no Jewish upbringing or identity, but, the more I told him, the more interested he became in Judaism. A year later, he bought his first pair of tefillin in a Crown Heights Judaica store as I stood with him eagerly, despite the negative experiences I had had. Some people have facetiously identified me as the Rebbe’s shliach (emissary) to the LGBTQ community — no doubt others would argue.

Six years ago, I could have never imagined being gay Jewish voice nonetheless welcome at farbrengens. I didn’t think I’d be proud to walk the streets of Crown Heights even despite some intolerance. The negative voices are slowly dying out, and more positive and accepting voices are being heard louder and louder. Everyone should be able to live openly and honestly without pretense nor fear of losing family, friends and community. I truly hope and believe that there will come a day when anyone who is LGBTQ can be accepted as they are and know that they are not alone.

Afterword

I was delighted to be invited to write about growing up Chabad and gay for a blog devoted to issues relating to the Chassidic community, sometimes discussing more controversial issues, such as why Chabad often stirs great animosity. The blogger informed me that, while this piece “brought him to tears” and despite his sympathy for gay people, he cannot publish it because he doesn’t want to get too “political.” He explained “they believe it’s against halacha (religious law) and that’s what I mean by political,” elaborating “because gay sex is against halacha, it becomes a difficult issue to deal with.”

Of course, I did not mention any personal, private behavior considered a violation of halacha. I discussed having found after much difficulty some acceptance within the Chabad community. I discussed not hating, but loving our fellows, not oppressing the weak, and not standing idly by as another’s life is in danger. As have many others, I had struggled with suicide because I felt hated and unwanted and was oppressed; the danger is real. These are important issues that must be dealt with. I hoped to shed some light on the experience of growing up gay within Chabad and give a voice to those suffering in and because of silence. Many community leaders have ignored us and pretended that we don’t exist, and others equate our mere existence with unspeakable violation of halacha.

Ironically, the blogger had questioned whether the ending was too positive and “preachy” prior to deciding not to run it. Now, I cannot help but have some doubt myself. Still, I am proud, and I am hopeful. I am impressed with the blogger’s sympathy and consideration despite his religious convictions, but I fail to see how a story of finding some acceptance could controvert those convictions. His refusal does not actively affirm halacha, but passively disaffirms thousands of gay Jews.

And, my statement is assured; we are here, many still struggling in fear and silence.

But, we are not alone.

Rabbinical Council of America no longer endorses reparative therapy

2012-11-29T20:01:00.002-05:00

November 29, 2012

Dear Chaverim,

The following will be released to the press later today.

Rabbinical Council of America's Statement Regarding JONAH (Jews Offering New

Alternatives to Homosexuality)

In the years since the Rabbinical Council of America's first comment about JONAH (Jews Offering New Alternatives to Homosexuality), "the only Jewish based organization dedicated to assisting individuals with unwanted same sex attractions move from gay to straight" in January, 2004, in which we suggested that rabbis might refer congregants to them for reparative therapy, many concerns about JONAH and reparative therapy have been raised.

As rabbis trained in Jewish law and values, we base our religious positions regarding medical matters on the best research and advice of experts and scholars in those areas, along with concern for the religious, emotional, and physical welfare of those impacted by our decisions. Our responsibility is to apply halakhic (Jewish legal) values to those opinions.

Based on consultation with a wide range of mental health experts and therapists who informed us of the lack of scientifically rigorous studies that support the effectiveness of therapies to change sexual orientation, a review of literature written by experts and major medical and mental health organizations, and based upon reports of the negative and, at times, deleterious consequences to clients of some of the interventions endorsed by JONAH, the Rabbinical Council of America decided in 2011, as part of an overall statement on the Jewish attitude towards homosexuality, to withdraw its original letter referencing JONAH. Despite numerous attempts by the RCA to have mention of that original letter removed from the JONAH website, our calls, letters, and emails remain unanswered. As Rabbi Shmuel Goldin, president of the RCA, stated in 2011, "We want it taken down. JONAH said it was a letter of support, but if you read the letter it is not. They took an informational statement and reprinted it, and the use of that as an endorsement is an error."

We believe that properly trained mental health professionals who abide bythe values and ethics of their professions can and do make a difference in the lives of their patients and clients. The RCA believes that responsible therapists, in partnership with amenable clients, should be able to work on

whatever issues those clients voluntarily bring to their session. Allegations made against JONAH lead us to question whether JONAH meets those standards.

Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm, Chancellor of Yeshiva University and author of the 1974 Encyclopedia Judaica Year Book article, "Judaism and the Modern Attitude to Homosexuality," the first contemporary article to address the issue from the perspective of Jewish law and philosophy, had originally commended the work of JONAH. In response to the negative reports about JONAH's activities and concerns expressed to him by respected mental health professionals, Dr. Lamm withdrew his endorsement of JONAH.

About the RCA:

The Rabbinical Council of America, with national headquarters in New York City, is a professional organization serving more than 1000 Orthodox Rabbis in the United States of America, Canada, Israel, and around the world. Membership is comprised of duly ordained Orthodox Rabbis who serve in positions of the congregational rabbinate, Jewish education, chaplaincies, and other allied fields of Jewish communal work.

For further information about this statement, you may contact:

Rabbi Shmuel Goldin

President

201-568-5860

rgoldin@ahavathtorah.org

Rabbi Mark Dratch

Executive Vice President

212-807-9000

mdratch@rabbis.org

The Rabbinical Council of America

305 Seventh Ave

New York, NY 10001

212-807-9000

www.Rabbis.org

Reparative Therapy, "It wasn't kosher" on Joy Behar Say Anything!

2012-11-29T00:03:00.001-05:00

Organization Promising Gay Cure Sued for Fraud

2012-11-27T16:26:00.001-05:00

Today a ground breaking lawsuit was filed against Jews Offering Alternatives to Homosexuality (JONAH) offering reparative or ex-gay therapy, the 'cure' for homosexuality repudiated by the America Psychaitric, Psychological and Medical Associations, but nonetheless still recommended by many Orthodox rabbis. There has already been much press. Here is an article from ABC, and several others are compiled here. More to come.

Gay Men, Moms Sue NJ Jewish Gay Conversion Therapists

Chaim Levin,now 23, alleges he received "humiliating" gay conversion therapy and was "misled" into thinking he could become straight. (Amy Sussman/AP Photo)

By SUSAN DONALDSON JAMES
Nov. 27, 2012

Four gay men and two of their mothers filed a lawsuit today against a New Jersey conversion therapy group that claims to rid men of same-sex attractions and turn them straight.

The lawsuit, filed in Superior Court of New Jersey Hudson County, alleges that methods used by the Jersey City-based Jews Offering New Alternatives to Healing (JONAH) do not work and constitute fraud under the state's consumer protection laws.

Arthur Goldberg, JONAH's co-director, and Alan Downing, a "life coach" who provides therapy sessions, were also named in the suit.

The plaintiffs include Michael Ferguson, Benjamin Unger, Sheldon Bruck and Chaim Levin, all of whom used the services of JONAH when they were in their teens or young 20s.

Two of the men's mothers, Jo Bruck and Bella Levin, who paid for therapy sessions that could cost up to $10,000 a year, were also plaintiffs.

One of the plaintiffs alleges that therapy sessions that involved a virtual "strip tease" in front of an older male counselor, as well as reliving abuse and homophobia were "humiliating."

They are seeking declaratory, injunctive and an undisclosed amount of monetary relief, as well as court costs, according to the lawsuit.

The plaintiffs have received legal help from the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), which claims in the lawsuit that conversion therapy is a dangerous practice that has been "discredited or highly criticized" by every major American medical, psychiatric, psychological and professional organization.

Three of the young plaintiffs are from an ultra orthodox Jewish background; Ferguson came from a Mormon background and met Downing at a "Journey Into Manhood" retreat, according to the lawsuit.

JONAH appears to cater to orthodox Jews, but its methods "do not have a strong religious aspect," according to SPLC lawyer Sam Wolfe.

The lawsuit alleges that some of the methods used included: telling boys to beat a pillow, the "effigy of the client's mother," with a tennis racket; encouraging "cuddling" between younger clients and older male counselors; and even instructing attendees to remove their clothing and hold their penis in front of Downing.

Attendees were also subjected to ridicule as "faggots" and "homos" in mock locker room and gym class role playing, according to the lawsuit.

"It's definitely cruel and unusual and doesn't work," said Wolfe. "They are peddling bogus techniques that have no foundation in science and are basically ridiculous and even harmful."

Wolfe paraphrased JONAH's message as: "All you have to do is put in the work to overcome your sexual attractions. If you follow our program your true orientation emerges and will turn you into a straight person."

"Often if what the conversion therapist tells them doesn't work, it's their fault," Wolfe added.

In 2008, when the plaintiffs were seeking help from JONAH, the cost of an individual therapy session was $100 and for a group session, $60. JONAH also "strongly pushed" attending weekend retreats that could cost as much as $700, said Wolfe.

Arthur Goldberg said he "knows nothing about the lawsuit," which was filed this morning, and referred ABCNews.com to JONAH's website.

"We have a lot of people who were a success and were healed," he said of JONAH's 14 years in service. "Hundreds of the clients we serve are satisfied ... Our therapy is very conventional."

When asked about the group's practices, he said, "I can't tell you about the methodology." Goldberg admitted he had "no background specifically in counseling."

"I am the administrator," he said. "I used to teach family law."

When asked about instructing boys to take off their clothes, he said, "I know nothing about that."

Goldberg also said he had "no idea" how to reach Downing because he was an "independent contractor."

According to JONAH's mission statement on its website, the nonprofit group is "dedicated to educating the world-wide Jewish community about the social, cultural and emotional factors which lead to same-sex attractions."

"Through psychological and spiritual counseling, peer support, and self-empowerment, JONAH seeks to reunify families, to heal the wounds surrounding homosexuality, and to provide hope," the statement reads.

JONAH's Goldberg, who runs the business side of the nonprofit, says on the website that "change from homosexual to heterosexual is possible … homosexuality is a learned behavior which can be unlearned, and that healing is a lifelong process."

According to the lawsuit, JONAH cites the "scientific" work of Joseph Nicolosi, one of the primary proponents of conversion therapy and Richard A. Cohen, who was permanently expelled from the American Counseling Association in 2002 for "multiple ethical violations."

Nicolosi's methodology is based on the belief that a weak father-son relationship and a dominating mother contribute to homosexuality. He advocates "rough and tumble games," as well as father-son showers, according to the lawsuit.

Cohen uses a technique called "bioenergetics" that includes having male patients beat a pillow, which represents their mother, as a way of stopping same-sex attraction, according to the lawsuit.

Conversion therapists also cite child abuse and bullying as a "primary cause" of homosexuality, according to the lawsuit.

The American Psychiatric Association and the World Health Organization, among other mental health groups, have cited the potential risks of reparation therapy, including "depression, anxiety [and] self-destructive behavior," according to the lawsuit.

Chaim Levin, the most vocal of the plaintiffs, is now 23 and a gay rights advocate who writes a blog, Gotta Give 'Em Hope.

He grew up in a Jewish ultra orthodox community in Brooklyn where religious leaders threw him out of the Hebrew-speaking yeshiva at the age of 17, when they learned he was gay.

Levin told ABCNews.com that he had been abused as a boy and that he was "confused" by his sexuality and took a rabbi's advice and began 18 months of gay conversion therapy at JONAH.

[Levin filed a civil lawsuit against his cousin in July, alleging he was abused for three years from the time he was 6.]

When Levin met co-director Goldberg, he said the defendant told him JONAH could change his sexual orientation, "as long as I tried hard enough and put enough effort into it."

"He told me, 'You will marry a woman and have a straight life,'" said Levin.

"Given where I came from, with three older siblings who were married with kids and not knowing any gay people or English, I was sure I could change," he said. "That was the theology."

Levin first did a retreat with Downing, then saw him weekly at therapy sessions in Jersey City.

"A lot of the therapy involves reliving the experience," he said. Levin alleges he was forced to relive the sexual abuse by his cousin, "with no counseling afterwards."

But the most "humiliating" experience, the one that Levin alleges made him quit therapy, was being asked by Downing to take off his clothes, article by article and told to touch his "private parts" -- to hold his penis in front of a mirror to "be in touch with my masculinity."

"I told him I wasn't comfortable, but I desperately wanted to change and was ready to do anything," said Levin. Afterward, he said he felt "degraded and violated."

Today, Levin no longer identifies as orthodox, but said his parents have been "supportive" of the lawsuit.

Some Jewish denominations and many congregations are inclusive of homosexual congregants, and even New York's orthodox communities are more open-minded now, according to Levin.

"I had gone for help and they had misrepresented themselves," he said.

When I Lost Hope: Levin v. Eichler

2012-11-19T17:03:00.000-05:00

Early this past July, I filed a lawsuit against Sholom Eichler, a first cousin who sexually abused me for four years starting when I was 6. From the day the abuse began until last year, I hadn’t felt confident, strong or ready to attempt to pursue justice and hold Eichler accountable for what he did to me. I was afraid. The people I counted on to protect and help me when I was young only fed that fear, allowing it to grow. I had confided in my school principal, Rabbi Lustig of Oholei Torah, when I was 14 and the years of secret pain were too much to bear alone. Rabbi Lustig advised my parents not to create “a family fight” by confronting Eichler or his parents and strongly urged them not to say anything. Consequently, Eichler remained a welcome presence in my parents’ home for the rest of my youth, and my family celebrated his wedding despite knowing that he brutally abused and molested me for four years of my childhood — four years that I’ll never get back, four years that I live with everyday of my life.

It’s been difficult. And, forgiving my family and the caregivers who betrayed me is no easy thing. Yet, I am grateful to most of my immediate family members for their support that, although it came late, did still come.I have been lucky to have the unwavering support of my parents and siblings throughout the journey the past few years has taken me on. My parents stand proudly behind me and support me in the work that I do — the cause I believe in and live for. They accept me completely as I am; my orientation is just another inherent aspect little different from the color of my eyes or my skin tone. Everyday, I hear from people whose families reject them, sometimes even disowning them, just because they’re gay. I had truly believed and feared that my family would never come around, but I was wrong. They have arrived, and I couldn’t be more proud to call them my family, my blood. They have been there for me as I have tried to pursue justice.

Before filing a lawsuit against Eichler, I attempted to envision the different scenarios that might result, but I was not prepared for what ensued. Many people sympathized with Eichler and recast the traumatic abuse as just “two kids fooling around,” others called the lawsuit a ploy for attention, and some even had the audacity simply to feed into the denial all too commonly surrounding abuse, dismissing what had happened to me with assertion that Eichler is “family man” incapable of the horrific crimes he committed against me, my body and my mind. It had taken years for me to regain some sort of wholeness with which I could try to move forward, and the negative reactions to the lawsuit challenged that.

And, I lost hope. I had to take a step back. I had lost my way. I have spent the last few months trying to figure out my place, where I belong and what I want to do in the future. I have also done as much I can to begin to heal from the childhood trauma that I endured. I had lost the confidence that was so hard to build. I lost my drive. I was disappointed and angry with many people; it was truly horrifying for me to hear anyone try defending the likes of Eichler despite what was known. So many people were focused on “Jewish gay activist sues cousin for sexual abuse” that the story was lost. It was a headline that told them all that they thought they needed to know. It was a headline that allowed them to conclude that the abuse I experienced at the hands of Eichler must have been consensual despite his being six years older because I proudly identify as a gay man and had not told anyone while the abuse occurred. It was a headline that allowed people to continue to ignore abuse and to blame and dismiss survivors. The misguided conclusions people made about me and what had happened to me were far from reality; still, they were a source of pain.

While I don’t feel the need to defend my choice in taking actions against someone that hurt me, I do think it’s important to address some matters before other abuse survivors’ motives are questioned and they are harmed in the process. Eichler may have been a minor at the time of the abuse, but I was a child; I couldn’t consent, and I didn’t have a choice. Eichler exploited my vulnerability in feeling different and inferior, which made me a perfect target for a predator. He once told me that he had to be mean to me in public so that no one caught on to “our” secret. Eichler sexually, physically and mentally abused me. He devised elaborate strategies to isolate and intimidate me and to lure me away to commit unspeakable acts. Even after Eichler sodomized me with a pen when he became frustrated with my small, unaccommodating, fragile, eight year old anatomy, I was still too afraid to tell anyone. Like many other survivors, I was afraid and ashamed. That was why I kept it a secret for as long as I did, but when I was more able to understand what had happened I reached out for help.

My principal, family and community’s reaction are examples of what fed and continues to feed the pernicious silence that creates an environment conducive to abuse and that revictimizes survivors. I reached out again to my former principal upon retaining my lawyers, but he refused to cooperate, claiming that it was against Jewish law for him to get involved in any capacity. Rabbi Lustig knew what was at stake when he refused to cooperate less than a year ago, when abuse was no longer taboo and most rabbis called for everyone to help survivors achieve justice. Given Rabbi Lustig’s past and the history with running Oholei Torah for which he has not been held accountable, I cannot be too shocked by the way he continues to handle matters. My family, on the other hand, were there for me when I needed them this time, and it means so much to me. It’s been a long and painful road in finding some middle ground with my family. Instead of ignoring it and pretending like nothing happened as they had for too long, they were ready and willing to do whatever it took to bring justice and closure for me in any capacity necessary.

Justice and closure have been hard coming. Eichler and his family refuse to face the limelight. Neither he nor his family have publicly commented on the charges. There were those who thought he deserved his day in court; well, he got it, but he chose to not to use it. Eichler did not even file a response to the complaint against him, and a default judgment has been requested. And, it appears that his response to the default judgement against him will be immigrating to Israel.

I used to wish I could just escape from the past.Today, I think differently. Today, I want to move forward. I know that if I had missed the opportunity to pursue some justice as I decided after my 23rd birthday this past May, it would have been all the more difficult to move forward with my life, still burdened with a conflicted conscious and consuming secret. Now the secret is out, Eichler is exposed, and other children may be safer and other survivors find it easier to come forward. I am unapologetically proud of my choice to file a suit against Eichler for the damage he caused me. Now, I stand prouder and stronger, ready to move forward with my future while being mindful of the evils of the past. While they might be in my past, they continue to be a source of struggle for me and are a present reality for far too many people. The case was brought to court, but that does not mean it’s over; sadly, these battles are never over. Nonetheless, I am relieved to be in a better place in my life to do the things I hope and plan on doing; these include continuing to be an outspoken, unashamed survivor and an unapologetic critic of those who continue to feed toxic and dangerous environments in which abuse is covered up, and, most importantly, to put an end to the deafening silence that has handicapped so many of us.

Huffington Post: The Grave Truth Threatening Orthodox Communities

2012-06-15T12:40:00.000-04:00

June 14th, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

This past sunday, a townhall meeting was held in Crown Heights to raise awareness regarding the epidemic of child sexual abuse within Orthodox communities and their problematic responses. The event hosted by Eli Federman, a long time community activist and champion of these important causes, and included incredible panelists: Rabbi Yosef Blau, a vocal advocate and supporter of survivor's rights; Irwin Zalkin, an attorney for survivors of clergy sexual abuse; Norman Siegel, a civil rights attorney; Mordechai Feinsten, a survivor and advocate; and Zvi Gluck, community activist and founder of Our Place, a safe space for survivors. Along with the panelists, the Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes spoke. He attempted to justify his legally dubious and controversial practice of keeping confidential the names of religious Jews prosecuted for these heinous crimes, adding "I created a system that keeps the names of offenders out of the public only to protect victims, and I'll be damned if I change that."

Perhaps, he should be. The Orthodox community is his most powerful voting block, and his policy protects Orthodox offenders and complies with the community's general suppression of sexual abuse, which the D.A. himself acknowledges involves more "intimidation [than] in organized crime cases". The Orthodox community, especially leaders and educators were conspicuously absentfrom this event, but, three weeks ago, they had come out en masse.

On May 20th 40,000 religious Jews gathered at Citi Field to discuss the "grave" threat the internet poses to their religious lifestyle. From the moment I found out about this event, I was dumbfounded. I simply could not understand how a rally on the "dangers" of the internet was rational, productive or even fair -- not just fair to all the real issues ignored in these religious communities, but also to the people themselves, who were blindly following their religious leaders.

Just before this event took place, leaders of the Williamsburg Satmar community held a fundraiser for a man accused of raping a young girl repeatedly over the course of years; community leaders called for everyone to come donate money to fund his defense. The leaders further claimed that such allegations in general pose a great threat to the future of their community. While the community embraced the accused abuser, it has harassed, ostracized and intimidated the survivor. While I and a few others were protesting this event, a religious woman said to us simply, "I know him [the accused]; it can't be true" -- as if she had some special method of knowing for a fact that Weberman did not commit the crimes he was accused of. Such blanket denial is something I witnessed firsthand while growing up. It was an ignorant and dangerous response from a parent, that is indicative of actual grave threat facing the children of religious communities such as Williamsburg, which would rally to raise funds for a man accused of ruining an innocent life. Four days later and three million dollars spent, 40,000 religious Jews came to Citi Field proudly and listened as their religious leaders proclaimed the evils, ills and dangers of the internet. The internet is seen as a threat to religious life; otherwise suppressed stories of abuse within religious communities are being revealed via the internet.

Trying to come to terms with being sexually abused from the ages of 6 to 10, I had kept my childhood traumas out of the public eye for as long as I could. It had been my deepest secret, my biggest shame and the most toxic driving force in my life. Coming out as a survivor seemed especially important now. Given the very clear denial of the threat that children face and leaders' attempts to suppress rather than address the problem, publicly acknowledging what I have struggled with for most of my life seemed imperative in order to shed light on the problem and provide people some hope.

Before coming forward, I was concerned with the pernicious yet persistent misconception that being molested makes people gay. Numerous studies and the American Psychiatric Association have concluded, "no specific psychosocial or family dynamic cause for homosexuality has been identified, including histories of childhood sexual abuse. Sexual abuse does not appear to be more prevalent in children who grow up to identify as gay, lesbian, or bisexual, than in children who identify as heterosexual." Nonetheless, when I was younger, I was mislead into harmful and dangerous "reparative" therapy, which maintains this unscientific misconception. The biggest shanda (shame), the worst part of the abuse for some in my family is that I "turned out" gay. Sadly, these people and many others fail to realize that it is far more likely that I was molested because I was gay and consequently vulnerable because I was different and felt isolated; my abuser counted on me remaining silent. And, I had suffered silently through the abuse and its long lasting effects. Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), depression, severe anxiety, extreme difficulty concentrating, constant nightmares, those are only some of the results of being molested. My orientation is most certainly not. I am very blessed to be who I am; I am very proud of my gay identity, which is not related to the horrific trauma that I endured for four years of my childhood.

Stories of precious childhoods stolen by sexual abuse are coming out now more than ever. These stories were kept secret for years as survivors suffered silently, faulted themselves for the trauma they endured and believed that did not deserve justice. Every day, the media hands us another heart-wrenching story about an innocent child or young adult who was abused by someone more powerful and were then forced to keep quiet and intimidated into not reporting the crimes, in some cases with threats against their livelihood or their families. Many such stories are shared on the internet.

In order to denounce the internet as a danger facing the Jewish people, approximately three million dollars was spent to rally every Hasidic Jew who would listen. Child abuse was not mentioned once. Many other demonstrators and I held signs reading "the internet never molested me", "how many children can $3,000,000 save" and others that made clear our reasons and motives for protesting this event, which many of the attendees claimed was a "great kiddush HaShem" (sanctification of G-d's name). Every second standing there, I was shocked by the masses of attendees showing up, many with children and grandchildren. I could not help but feel sad and concerned for the younger innocent ones who might be harmed because their gedolim (most revered rabbis) concluded that the threat to their lives was the internet rather than the gnawingly obvious problem of child abuse that enough survivors had bravely come forward to expose. The internet has been a vital resource we survivors have used to attempt at healing ourselves and sparing others.

Rabbi Zwiebel of Agudath Israel of America (an umbrella organization for Orthodox Judaism in America) lambasted discussion of sexual abuse on the internet stating, "through the pressure [bloggers] have created, communal issues that need to be confronted were moved to the front burner and taken seriously. A case in point is abuse and molestation issues. The question is, if the fact that [bloggers have] created some degree of change is worth the cost. At the very least, it's rechilus [gossip], lashon hara [derogatory language], and bittul zman [waste of time]. That's a high price to pay." From the Agudath's standpoint, preventing molestation and sparing children are wasteful and less important than avoiding disclosing and reporting true but disparaging information about others.

This same organization has been directing followers not to report sexual abuse without the permission of a rabbi. The New York Times reported that when Rabbi Zwiebel discussed this policy with the Brooklyn District Attorney who allegedly "expressed no opposition or objection". The Brooklyn D.A. appears to have been complicit in making sure that sexual abuse in religious communities is not prosecuted. On June 20th, a protest will be held outside the Brooklyn D.A.'s office to protest "the history of colluding with Rabbinical authorities to enable the cover up of child abuse in Ultra Orthodox communities of Brooklyn, NY. As a result molesters have remained free to victimize children at will."

While religious leaders would obstruct justice and suppress exposure of sexual abuse over the internet and the DA seems unable or unwilling to fairly pursue abuse that is reported, others would divert attention from the problem by extolling the virtues of the Orthodox lifestyle. A Hasidic woman named Chaya wrote What Women's Media Needs to Know about Chassidic Women in response to the buzz surrounding the internet rally, which women weren't invited to attend. Chaya's assertion that women who keep the Jewish laws of family purity have lower rates of cervical cancer and portrayal of lives of Hasidic women as glorious and fulfilling went viral. When I posted a link to one of the many responses to the article, strangers bombarded my facebook page with comments along the lines of: Stop trying to represent us; the real Hasidic women choose our lifestyles and are happy with it. I was berated by some for not being fair in disagreeing with Chaya's belief that she wrote was actually what the media needed to know.

Chaya failed to mention that she didn't grow up within the fold of the Orthodox community. When she bragged about her college experience ("magna cum laude baby"), she did not mention that in Crown Heights where I was raised Orthodox, the idea of even going to college was a foreign one. Those of us who lived through horrors created by oppressive environments like the one Chaya attempted to glorify are still struggling with our nightmares as the people who hurt us walk around freely without any accountability and posing a danger to others because a corrupt system is more interested sparing the community the imagined shame in addressing sexual abuse than in protecting its children.

Many people ask, or rather complain, why I don't just leave the community behind and let them live their lives in peace and do as they choose. Rosa parks did not leave her seat, and she did not leave Alabama; she stayed, and that taught me a lot. While I do plan to leave Brooklyn in the near future, I simply cannot turn a blind eye to problems I am painfully aware of, and I certainly will not disconnect from the internet.

The internet has been an invaluable resource for many of us who suffered abuse, oppression and torment in our communities. When Ricky Martin discussed having feared coming out, he said, "If someone asked me today, 'Ricky, what are you afraid of?' I would answer, 'the blood that runs through the streets of countries at war...child slavery, terrorism...the cynicism of some people in positions of power, the misinterpretation of faith.' But fear of my truth? Not at all! On the contrary, it fills me with strength and courage." The internet has been one thing that offered us strength, courage and hope; it allows us to know that we are not alone and, hopefully, others to be spared. The internet forced the issue of child abuse in religious communities into the public eye, and the reprehensible behavior of leaders who protect offenders is now coming to light and may be investigated further. The internet may very well spur change that will save those in religious communities, for which the only real threat is abuse and its suppression.

Marching in the Celebrate Israel Day Parade: Walking into the Lion's Den

2012-06-11T11:00:00.000-04:00

Some people looked at us in surprise or shock, and others, in horror. A few parents covered their children’s eyes as we went by. I tried to disregard the slurs and middle fingers, but one woman refused to be ignored. She accosted us after the parade, berating us that we do not belong and should be ashamed of our ourselves. But, I was proud to march and represent LGBTQ Jews in the largest event in the world transcending movements and politics and representing Jewish solidarity; and, by and large, it was a wonderful success. Still, after learning that our group of LGBTQ brothers and sisters would be allowed to march in the Celebrate Israel Parade for the first time since its inception in 1964, I had been conflicted.

On one hand, I was thrilled. The progress made within Jewish communities towards tolerance of LGBTQ people has been been remarkable, and our being allowed to participate in the Parade was an historic symbol of the progress. Gay Jews had been prevented from participating openly in the event previously, and the negotiation of the terms for our participation this year was wrought with difficulties. This foreshadowed some hostility I anticipated not without trepidation. But, it was not fear of homophobic responses at the parade that gave rise to my conflict. However, the intolerance I witnessed and this religious woman’s unprovoked attack and unconditional declaration that we did not belong did sharpen my dissonance.

I had been conflicted about marching in support the state of Israel. I’m happy that the state of Israel exists, and the Jewish people have a land that we can call home. Indeed, it has been my home; I had lived there as a teenager, some of my family come from Israel, and I have loved ones there. I am also extremely proud that Israel is the most gay-friendly country in the Middle East. Nonetheless, I found myself unsure about whether it was right for me to march in the parade when the innocent people in Israel find themselves without basic rights or even a homeland because of beliefs they cannot be tolerated and do not belong simply because they are African immigrants or Palestinians.

Growing up with an extremely limited “secular” education in a very right wing Orthodox section of Brooklyn, I was taught that the state of Israel was the holiest place in the world and that all the Arabs of the world wanted to kill and destroy the Jewish nation. Arabs were equated with Muslims, Muslims with Palestinians and Palestinians with anti-semitic terrorists. Fear of anti-semitism was seared into my heart and mind by my parents, teachers and community leaders, whom I looked up to while growing up in Crown Heights: “They hate us, they all do, and there will be another holocaust in America one day”. I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve heard such declarations. When I started leaving the fold of the Orthodox community, I approached the greater world with an irrational fear that I was hated as a Jew unconditionally and that, if the evil people of the world had their way, we would be destroyed and wiped out completely as a nation. But, it was not until I realized that I am gay that I learned what discrimination and hatred really are. Even before I came out, I felt shamed and tortured by my religious counterparts when I was outed at yeshiva at the age of 16.

I had not experienced anti-semitism, but I knew homophobia.

And, I am ashamed to know that some of my own relatives had been involved in anti-Palestinian violence in the rebels’ uprising before the state of Israel was established. Some in my family take pride in this heritage — a legacy of cold blooded murder of innocent women and children in a town called Deir Yassin. For me, it’s a stain of intolerance, heartlessness, hatred and murder.

Despite what many try to deny, Palestinian people, who have lived in the region long before the nation of Israel was recreated, have suffered oppression, hatred, pain and denial of basic human rights simply because they are different and declared intolerable and not to belong. A woman recently argued to me, “There are 27 other Arab countries in the Middle East, why can’t any of them take in these Palestinians?” Essentially, her argument was that everyone living in Palestine who doesn’t belong should move to another country. Before the establishment of the state of Israel, it was felt the Jews did not belong in Europe and represented a threat, and they were forced to leave the countries they lived in or into ghettos and were eventually slaughtered. When I was younger, I attempted suicide because, in the community I was raised in, gay people did not belong. Still today, I am told on innumerable occasions that I should move somewhere, anywhere else than Crown Heights because I do not belong. And, at the largest event in the world representing Jewish solidarity, we were told that we did not belong.

Marching at the parade, the truth dawned upon me: the people who have actually oppressed me have been self-proclaimed religious Jews, who would preach love and tolerance. Jews in America today have every single right and protection afforded to other minorities. But, as a gay person, I face oppression and discrimination and cannot even marry the person that I love with the same protections and benefits as every other American. As I grew into my gay identity, I learned that being a Jew in America today is a breeze — even when I walked the the streets of Paris at 16 dressed in traditional religious garb, I never faced a single anti-semitic remark. But, today here in the country I was born in, my rights are denied because small-minded, intolerant bigots refuse to recognize the constitutional separation between church and State. And, I am told that I do not belong at secular event celebrating Jewish solidarity.

Aside from the homophobic remarks and actions of some, the reception of those watching the parade was positive. Indeed, I believe it was a monumental achievement that we marched openly as a group. I knew that my presence at the parade was important because numbers speak louder than anything. And, thankfully we did have numbers; lots of us showed up and marched proudly as LGBTQ Jews down fifth avenue. Even as some watched in shock and horror, others may have been encouraged. Younger LGBT people who saw us marching knew that they are not alone, and that we do belong despite what others may say.

The woman who declared that we should be ashamed and did not belong at the parade criticized us about our t-shirts, insisting that she doesn’t walk around parading that she’s heterosexual. I had to observe, “you’re wearing a sheitel (wig); that’s your parade.”; she declares her heterosexuality and religious affiliation every day for the whole world to see, and I have no doubt that she does so with observant pride. Many religious communities deny our very existence, people like this woman seem to prefer that we do not exist, we have been denied representation in the event for decades, and LGBTQ Jews are largely invisible. Consequently, it felt imperative on that day to declare that we do exist, that we do belong and and that you are not alone on banners and shirts. But, the rainbow Israeli flag on my chest made me feel like a walking target, proud yet conflicted.

I stand with the state of Israel. But, I also stand with the Palestinians, who are living on the marginal territory without any citizenship or civil rights. My heart bleeds for the innocent lives taken. I cry for the innocent LGBTQ young lives lost because because of hatred, intolerance and feeling they did not belong in their communities. I stand for all people living under oppression all over the world. Just as much as I hope for LGBTQ equality, I hope that the conflict between Israel and Palestine is resolved before any more innocent lives are ruined.

Huffington Post: Dear Rabbi Shmuley, Can You Leave Dan Savage Alone?

2012-05-04T18:53:00.002-04:00

May 3rd, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

This open letter comes after a few days of comments and articles written by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, a proud supporter of gay rights and a dear friend of mine. He has lambasted Dan Savage for certain remarks made in reference to the Bible. Rabbi Shmuley went so far as to compare Dan Savage to the "Westboro Baptist Church of the left." Seeing this headline, I was shocked that Rabbi Shmuley was able to conjure such an analogy about a man who created the It Gets Better Project dedicated to helping save the lives of LGBT teens all across the world. On the other hand, the Westboro Baptist Church and other right wing fanatic groups have literally called for the death of homosexuals, likening LGBT people to pedophiles, murderers and many other abhorrent comparisons that don't even deserve to be mentioned. Dan Savage has never crossed such a line.

Savage did refer to specific verses that call for the murder of homosexuals as "bullshit," but it was in the context of speaking "as someone on receiving end of beatings that are justified by the Bible." Rabbi Shmuley and many others have seen Savage's remarks on the Bible an "attack" on the Bible. What these critics fail to observe is that we generally do ignore those parts of the Bible that Savage criticized. Savage is not the first person to question the applicability of such passages. In Judaism, the death penalties prescribed in the Torah have been suspended since between 30 B.C.E. and 70 C.E., and Jesus famously said, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her," in defense of a woman accused of adultery -- a sin to be punished by death according to Leviticus. Had I been speaking, I'm not sure that I would have tied such strong wording to the Bible, which many people believe to be holy and find meaningful. Nonetheless, Savage's point still stands.

The taking of isolated verses from the Bible as justification for hatred and vilification of LGBT people is complete and utter nonsense that is inconsistent with the Bible and religious tradition. The Mishnah (Sanhedrin 1:4) required that the death penalty be inflicted only after trial by a Sanhedrin composed of 23 judges and with the testimony of at least two witnesses of the act itself who must also have issued a warning beforehand that the act would lead to execution and that the criminal stated his willingness to commit the act despite this. Not even confession was accepted as evidence. Throughout the Talmudic literature, this whole subject is viewed so much unease that the rules in the literature made the death penalty virtually impossible to impose. Talmudic law on the death penalty emphasized the primacy of the commandment to "love your neighbor as yourself" (Leviticus 19:17). A similar appreciation for the Bible and the commandment to love one's neighbor was emphasized by Jesus in the Christian Bible. The commandment to love one's neighbor is one that seems often ignored by those on the right.

Generally, we all ignore the things in the Bible that today would be considered barbaric, inconsistent with basic morality and contemporary understandings of freedom and justice. Savage gave specific examples of things that are ignored, such as the Bible's justification of slavery, the prescribed execution of a woman if she isn't a virgin on her wedding night and many other things. Indeed, most of the world was shocked by the Muslim and Yazidi stonings of Soraya Manutchehri and Du'a Khalil Aswad, despite these penalties being based on similar ancient customs and religious texts. If we interpreted everything in the Bible as applicable today, we would be living in very different times, and I'm fairly certain that they wouldn't be good times.

Like Rabbi Shmuley, I was raised as an Orthodox Jew with the Torah as my guide to morality and life, but I do not believe one needs the Bible to teach them the basic tenets of human decency. It is not because of the Bible that I do not murder or steal. According to the Bible, all human beings were created in the image of God and have knowledge of good and evil. Such values are enshrined in the traditions of other cultures, both religious and secular. Moreover, the Bible does not prevent immorality, even in the communities that recognize it. I have seen firsthand self-identified religious people stray from the core belief system of their religion and commit terrible crimes against others. I understand that the actions of adherents do not define their religion, but at the same time, one cannot claim that the Bible is the only source of morality. In many ways such a position is offensive to all people, especially the good upstanding citizens of our world who have never had any association with the Bible or its teachings.

Rabbi Shmuley, I've been a welcomed guest in your home many times and hope to be in the future. I cannot tell you how incredible it was for me to be able to bring my then-partner to your house for a meal on the first night of Rosh Hashanah. You have opened the minds and hearts of people on important issues, and I hope you keep doing so. However, I think it is important to realize that Dan Savage has never ever spoken anything like these right wing groups. These groups use the Bible to justify their hatred against LGBT people. I think that most moral people would agree that that is wrong. To compare Savage to people who are filled with such hatred is absurd and reminiscent of the disturbing trend to misrepresent anti-bullying activists as bullies themselves. Even if this were the case, the Bible does require "an eye for an eye"; nonetheless, there is a world of difference between speaking out against bullying and bullying. Unlike those fanatics on the right, Savage never advocated for death, pain or condemnation of any group of people; right wing groups fight ferociously against basic rights and freedoms through legislation and widespread reach in conservative communities. In the context of being someone who suffered abuse justified by some by portions of the Bible, Savage referred such passages as "bullshit." While his choice of words may not have been the best, there is little to fault in his actual argument.

Dan Savage is a hero in the eyes of many people in this world who found themselves without hope or comfort during the most trying of times. I am one of those he has comforted and given hope.

On 40,000 hits and my upcoming 23rd brithday

2012-04-27T12:55:00.003-04:00

While my blog has been somewhat silent over the past couple of weeks, the numbers and comments have been speaking for themselves. I'm fairly confident that within an hour after this post will be up, my blog will pass the 40,000 number, a monumental moment for me since I started this blog just a few short months ago.

I've been undergoing some very personal things and therefore have not been able to write as much as I'd like to, but I am working on some things that will hopefully give my dear readers something to talk about :).

My 23rd birthday is coming up on May 13th, this year in particular my birthday is significant for many reasons, most importantly, the incredible success that I've seen and felt over the past 12 months.

As I reflect on these events, both past and future, I am thankful to you, my dear readers, for giving me the ability and believing in my potential to go from "strength to strength" and take Harvey Milk's quote on giving people hope and turn it into a reality.

With much love,

Chaim Levin

Huffington Post: Jewish Queer Youth Speak Out at Yale

2012-04-24T22:50:00.004-04:00

April 23rd, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

The academic world, especially a campus as elaborate as Yale's, fills me with awe -- the libraries, buildings devoted to different subject areas and, above all, the energy of the thousands of students studying day and night toward various degrees that offer a brighter future. That world is something I had once thought I would never have the opportunity to experience. This past weekend, I had the great pleasure to get another glimpse of it as part of the warmly received Orthodox Jewish LGBT panel hosted by the Slifka center at Yale.

Two years earlier, I had spoken on a similar panel at the University of Pennsylvania; that was the first time I had spoken in front of an audience about my experience with issues of orientation and Orthodox Judaism. It was also the first time I had set foot on a college campus. Until then, the only thing I had known about college campuses was through TV and movies. I resolved that day that I would experience college first-hand.

As the time for the Yale panel drew closer, the room became crowded with people standing along the walls. This panel consisted of three others and myself, representing Jewish Queer Youth (JQY), and was moderated by Erez Harari, a Yale doctoral student and co-director of JQY. Sharing personal experiences of being part of the Orthodox community and being gay, we told about our journeys to acceptance of our orientations and reconciliation with our faith. Michael Rabinowitz began the panel by providing background on growing up in a "black hat" Orthodox community and discussing the pressure he faced by family and friends to get married to a woman; he was taught that his grandparents survived the Holocaust in order for him to carry on his family name by getting married and having kids -- a norm in many Orthodox communities. Justin Sprio spoke about growing up as Conservative Jew, finding his place in Orthodox movement and reconciling the seemingly incompatible gay and Orthodox identities. I spoke about my personal experience growing up as an Orthodox Jew, my failed attempts at "ex gay" reparative "therapy" and finally coming out and becoming an activist. Mordechai Leibovitz, the executive director of JQY, closed the discussion with how he and 10 others had formed JQY 10 years ago and the monumental progress being made in the Jewish world toward more tolerance and acceptance of LGBT people.

I started my talk on the panel with my experiences growing up in a community and school that does not teach basic, academic subjects, such as English language, math, literature, science or history -- the very foundation for higher education and indeed requirement for most jobs. Until the age of 17, when I was kicked out of yeshiva for being identified as gay, I had studied only the Torah and never had any substantial exposure to formal academic subjects.

Everytime I discuss going through reparative "therapy" to change my orientation because I believed I could not be gay and Jewish, I continue to be surprised by the shock of the audience. Some are shocked by painful and disturbing experiences of clients in programs like Jews Offering New Alternatives to Homosexuality (JONAH) and People Can Change, which offer "therapy" and programs geared towards "the reduction and healing of same sex attraction." Many people are shocked to learn that such programs still exist. Others ask how I did not know about the potential dangers of such programs and how they have been proven to be ineffective.

This is part of the reason I discuss my educational background when telling my story. I grew up believing that any desire can be overcome with sufficient work and focus and that "forbidden desires" must be overcome by any means possible; I was taught that for a man to be attracted to another man was at worst sinful and at best an illness which must be overcome. This was more than enough ammunition against my young self. I felt hopeless. I desperately wanted to overcome my "problem" and be observant. When I was 18 years old, the director of JONAH confidently assured that after doing the "work" supervised by the "experts" (unlicensed practitioners known as life coaches), I would surely be able to move on to living a heterosexual life. He claimed that "thousands" had passed through JONAH's doors and have been "successful."

The utterly irresponsible and reckless position of groups like JONAH and People Can Change and religious leaders who recommend these practices, which have been condemned by the American Psychiatric and Medical Associations, serve only to bring more trauma to LGBT people by offering false hope and the dangerous, misleading and scientifically refuted notion being LGBT is inherently "pathological, harmful and destructive" and that LGBT can to "change."

But I had no way of knowing any of this at the time. My nearly two years of struggles at changing my orientation ended with me in a locked room naked fondling my genitalia as instructed and observed by my JONAH life coach, himself "ex gay." He insisted that removing my clothing and touching myself was part of the "healing" process necessary for me to become straight. I did not become straight, and my experience with JONAH were anything but therapeutic.

The reality that I faced in the hands of "experts" recommended by my insular community's leaders and without any pragmatic education is an experience that still plagues many young people today, both LGBT and straight. Sharing our stories with energetic Yale students, stoked my hope to overcome my educational handicap and attend college soon. Sharing my story, I hope dangerous practices that people are shocked to learn still occur can be stopped before others are harmed. Sharing our stories, the panel demonstrated real hope that LGBT people can find acceptance and reconciliation even within seemingly contrary, indeed, hostile religious communities.

Haven't gone AWOL - I'm still here :)

2012-04-24T11:00:00.002-04:00

Hey Dear Readers,

I know it's been a while since my last post, but I just wanted to reassure everyone that I'm still alive and kicking (as you might have seen in other places) and hope to have a new post up soon.

We are on the brink of hitting 40,000 views, which is astounding to me, so let's just keep talking about how much you gottagivemhope and I promise to do my part and post something very soon.

With much love,

Chaim Levin

Sharing Stories With Deborah Feldman

2012-04-15T00:28:00.001-04:00

Discussing plans for our futures, finding the humor in our similar and traumatic pasts and enjoying uncommon empathy, Deborah Feldman and I had coffee on the Upper East Side on a bright Friday morning. My time with her was a refreshing pleasure and an honor. She is the author of the New York Times bestselling Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of my Hasidic Roots. Deborah helped me with something that I’ve been trying to navigate lately. Deborah reminded that I’m not an ex gay survivor, an ex Chabad, a gay man, a Jew, an activist, etc.; she told me that who I am is just Chaim Levin — who just also happens to have an interesting story to share and an opportunity to inspire change. She insisted that we all have our own lives and personalities that we must care for, cultivate and celebrate.

Deborah had entered mainstream media a few months ago with her fascinating memoir. I haven’t had a chance to finish reading her book yet; in fact, I just started the other day. But with every page, I feel more and more drawn into this incredible story of bravery, courage and survival. She recounts the struggles she endured while growing up within the insular Satmar community in Williamsburg and her decision to leave. Her writing is brilliant, genuine and accessible. Her entire life came under scrutiny when she went public, and some of the things that people have written about her were nothing short of repugnant. I believe Deborah Feldman is a hero.

I had been shocked at how many people were ready to go so far to question her motives or the validity and truth of her experiences, including people who were themselves victims of these communities and who had also left but were nevertheless still critical. I had heard more bad than good about this woman who was experiencing sudden fame, or infamy. There were some allegations that some of her experiences were inaccurate. Some people saw her memoir as a direct attack against their culture because she shared her personal memories of the abuse she faced in a community with great gender inequality and her decision to leave her community with her son and make a better future for her and her son.

I had been interested in Deborah but was hesitant to write about her. In general, I like to know someone person I'm writing about. I had felt deep sense of pride and resonation with her for what she did. She made the decision that her story — the story of someone who was raised within a deeply controlling community which disrespects women — needed to be shared, and she bravely decided to tell it all honestly without holding back.

As someone from a similar community and who has been attacked for exposing problems in it, I deeply related to her desire to shed light on these dark and dangerous realities that harmed her in the past, but more importantly, continue to harm people until this day. I have gotten into quite a bit of hot water recently for writing about the Chabad education I received in the Huffington Post — an education system that handicaps its students because the curriculum does include any “secular”, academic studies. I've been criticized because I took these story to the "outside" world, with the hope of inspiring change by raising awareness. My other work in the It Gets Better project and writing about LGBTQ problems, abuse and reparative “therapy” within the Orthodox community had also resulted in venomous attacks. But, it is worth it because discussions are starting and change is occurring. I empathized with Deborah for the nasty, baseless criticism she received, applauded her courage despite it all and hoped to meet her someday.

Everytime I meet a "celebrity" (a term Deborah despises), I get a little excited and farklempt; that moment when I get to tell them how much I admire them for their work is always kickass. When I finally saw Deborah, I was overwhelmed with a deep sense of honor — honor to meet so monumentally accomplished already by the age of 25. It's not just that she is young; it's the fact that, like myself, she had no tools or preparation for the "real world". With limited education, no resources or family support, she managed to stay sane (which is big for starters), raise her son and write her first book, and continues doing what she is passionate about, writing.

The past six months for me especially have been non-stop activism and promotion. I am amazed at how much I have been able to accomplish just by telling people about me and just sharing my authentic self with them. At certain points, I felt like the activism and promotion was taking over my life, but I continued my work and talking to others about it because it is my passion and I hope I can do my part to help others. At the same time though, Deborah is right, I was starting to lose part of my personality and authentic self because of the attention, criticism and not having enough time for me. I plan to heed Deborah’s advice.

I learned many things from Deborah. She is a hero of mine despite and maybe even because of what many other people think or say about her. People have attacked me and what I’ve written, especially the ones who know that my stories are true, like those who glibly acknowledged “[...]true[,] teachers hit the students[...]” and “[...]I find it really funny, I used to have my fingers hit with a rule from Rabbi E. [....] ive seen some major beatings [at the school....]” but criticized me for mentioning child abuse at Oholei Torah, the school I went to. I do not think I will ever be able to understand why it is those who know the stories are true are often the harshest critics. Whatever the case is, I think we all owe thanks to Deborah for helping to pave the way for bringing awareness to problems that are ignored and for proving that it is indeed possible to succeed despite seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Whether it is visible right now or not, Deborah has gotten a conversation started by sharing her story.

Our stories belong to us, and it is our right to find in them sadness and inspiration and even humor. I encourage those who do not want stories of harm shared to do everything to make sure that harm does not occur and there are no longer any such stories to share. Until that time, it is not only our inherent right to share our stories, it is our obligation to share otherwise ignored stories of harm to bring awareness so that there can be change and others can find hope and might be spared.

Huffington Post: The Education I Never Had, and Why No One Is Doing a Thing About It

2012-04-12T03:35:00.002-04:00

April 10th, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

The school I attended while growing up as a Chabad Orthodox Jew in Crown Heights, Brooklyn did not teach any formal, academic subjects -- no reading, writing, literature, math, science or history. I cannot say that I was all too surprised by the many people trying to defend this broken system or even by the criticism of me. Still, it is painful to realize that my peers and fellow victims of the same system are so willing to defend handicapping thousands of young people by not teaching kids fundamental, academic subjects.

Some chose to interpret my article as attack on the Chabad movement: "While it is true that secular studies aren't taught at Oholei Torah, the same can be said of almost all ultra-Orthodox schools around the world, so bashing Chabad alone isn't fair," as if the educational failings of Chabad -- the only aspect of Chabad I criticized -- are minimized by those other communities around the world. The same people even claimed that Jewish "holy studies" were enough alone because they produce smarter brains. Many responses were racist, and some, downright rude, simply because I chose to blow the whistle on a reality that still haunts me and others who are striving to attain higher education despite being denied the basic foundation for that.

Some attacked my character and my intentions, others lambasted me as the shtut meshugener(town crazy person) and even impugned my family. Another, an English professor no less, dared to claim that the students of these schools in Crown Heights that do not teach academic subjects are better off than "the black kid in Bed St[u]y" (Bedford-Stuyvesant, a predominantly African American neighborhood in Brooklyn) -- as if all Jewish children are too privileged as a class to be disadvantaged by a lack of education, as if it is a competition and white Jews can therefore ignore the problems in their communities.

At the end of Chabad yeshivah (high school), I knew no more than how to solve simple fractions, no science, no history and was far from able to formulate just one paragraph in English, let alone a whole essay. I had learned very basic reading and writing in English and math from a private tutor that my parents had hired for one hour a week after school. The curriculum of the school focused solely on Hebrew and Judaic studies and the spoken language was Yiddish. Science, history, math and (non-hermeneutic) reasoning were not part of my knowledge base. Tutoring one hour a week for all academic subjects was clearly insufficient to make up for the complete lack of coverage of these fundamental skills in school. And aside from that, I was lucky enough to have parents who were able to afford a private tutor, as opposed to most others who didn't have that opportunity.

At the age of 17, I had a formal education more comparable to a third grader. Without a solid formal education, I lacked the opportunity to function as an informed, educated young adult. I managed to pass a GED test after great difficulty at the age of 18 out of my own initiative; going to college and pursuing a higher education had been presented as almost heretical by the educators in my school. I do hope to go to college, but my early lack of education has caused great difficulty. I was well versed on things like the Talmud or Bible, but thinking in English, understanding the country that I lived in and its history and knowing the basic formulae of math, let alone understanding them, were out of my reach. We did have some minor training in Yiddish writing and spelling, but the courses were never demanding enough that one would be able to formulate a full essay even in Yiddish, which was a second language to most of us, who spoke English at home.

Bringing awareness and trying prevent social injustices from occurring within Orthodox Jewish communities, both to LGBT people and youth generally, has led to vicious attacks. It seems the most scrutiny comes from Orthodox people who would defend a broken system that harms the lives of many. Unwilling to admit that there really is a problem with the schooling system which people are afraid to challenge because, as many have told me, "there are no other schools in Crown Heights to send our children to."

Some have dared to try to blame those of us who were harmed mostly by this system and to place the entire burden of success on our shoulders, saying things like "Well, you can blame your background all you want, but it's up to you to do something about it." Some point to the success of few people in Crown Heights who have become CEOs or owners of large businesses and are considered wealthy, but they once again fail to recognize the vast majority of people who have seen only difficulty and no success because of their educational background. Success in academia and the ability to pursue a career and a higher education does not start when one is 18 years old, and certainly not without any background in academic subjects. Compulsory education starts at 5 years old, when one would ideally be learning the ABCs and counting, the foundation to literacy and mathematics. People are indeed entitled to ensure their children have a Jewish, religious and Hebrew education, and there are so many schools who offer both Hebrew religious studies and full formal academics as required by the state and board of education.

There is a deep, sinking pit in my stomach when I think about the years of academic study I missed that most people take for granted. I smile sadly when I hear kids complaining about going to school; I would gladly go in their place. While I certainly hope I can, one cannot easily overcome missing out on 13 years of academic study and a corrupt system.

The corruption at Oholei Torah has provoked a frustrating, painful memory, which I had not planned on mentioning. In third grade, my classmates and I watched our teacher brutally beat one of the students for what seemed like at least a half an hour. To this day, my friends and I remember that event vividly. It is something no one can ever forget. This teacher was not held accountable, let alone disciplined. More recently, I questioned the school's dean about this event and why it wasn't dealt with; I had also inquired about some other disturbing allegations from former students that Oholei Torah covered up and refused to report sexual abuse that former students had brought to the attention of the school seeking help.The response I got was glib: I was told that these stories are not true (even though I witnessed one and heard the accounts of sexual abuse from the victims themselves). A former social worker, and hence a legally mandated reporter, employed by this institution told me that he was told by the dean of the school that if he were to ever report a crime to the authorities, he would immediately be fired.

My appeals to the community on the problems of the educational system had all fallen on deaf ears. I had to seek an outside forum to open a dialogue. People are discussing the problems now. I had spoken to the school administration many times about these problems, as well as my objection to the current curriculum being taught in the school. The only response that I got and continue to get from the principal and other chief operating officers within the school is: "This is the Rebbe's institution, and this is how he wanted it and we won't ever try to change that. It's pure chutzpah to try and challenge something the Rebbe believed in, and even worse to try and bring shame to the Rebbe's institution by talking about these things publicly."

It is time that people stop blaming the whistleblowers for the problems of their community -- a community that is doing nothing to fix the problem. Instead of coming together to figure out how to keep our children safe and do what is in their best interests and how we can build a more tolerant, welcoming and educated future generation, we are concerned that people who bring awareness to problems that no one is willing to address are committing a great chilul hashem(desecration, or shaming of the community). However, only abuse and failure to educate makes Chabad look bad, and each day that Chabad does not address the problem, it only looks worse. It is my sincere hope that Chabad can be the great and admirable movement it is in so many other ways.

Parents, while you may want to send your kids to such a school understanding that it is your right to limit your children's education strictly to religious studies, there is a very real chance that it may harm your children. One day, your child may very well demand to understand why you denied them a basic education; one day, your children may be outraged at being denied their right to a basic education and the resultant opportunities to find a decent job, secure a promotion or provide for their own families. My parents have indicated that sending me and my siblings to Oholei Torah was a mistake and would not make the same choice now. Ironically, many people have left the community because of the failings of schools which would cultivate only yiddishkeit(Jewishness and observance). Parents want the best for their children and want them to go far in life.

As Kahlil Gibran wrote in his poem "On Children," parents are the bow from which children as living arrows are sent forth. Children need a solid bow in order to fly. Children need an education to succeed in life.

Passover, Freedom and Triumph

2012-04-10T10:13:00.000-04:00

Between celebrating the new babies in my family, attending a delightful Nehirim retreat and preparing myself for Passover and lending a hand to my parents for Pesach, I haven’t had much time to sit at my computer. In meantime, Gotta Give ‘em Hope received over 30,000 views the Friday before last — in just under two months! I continue to be amazed and humbled by the response, and I am thankful to all the readers and supporters.

The weekend before last, I had the great pleasure of attending a retreat hosted by Nehirim. Nehirim is an organization that fosters environments that allow for LGBT Jewish people to enjoy and explore spiritual and social community. The retreat was in the very comfortable setting of the mountains of Connecticut at the Isabella Freedman Retreat Center. I spent a lot of time talking to the many interesting and beautiful souls who are part of the wonder LGBT Jewish community, and I also spent time on my own just relaxing and reflecting over my life.

When I was still deeply in the closet and undergoing “reparative therapy” to become straight, I attended a few weekend retreats that also involved meeting other gay people, but in a very different context. We weren’t celebrating our identities; we wanted to change who we are. Those weekends were 48 hours of non-stop, planned programing. While I won’t delve into those details of those weekends, which ripe for movies on their own, I will say here that they definitely left a traumatic impression on me of “weekends” and “retreats”. On any weekend retreat now, part of me is always a little nervous of being reminded me of those 48 hour periods of absolute hell and false hopes that I had desperately wanted to be true.

After the Nehirim retreat however, I am happy to remember those two blissful days full of hope and acceptance. I was left with a strong sense of peace, joy and contentment for having been able to meet such incredible people celebrating who we are as gay Jews and our beautiful and thriving community, which is growing stronger and more vibrant and radiant through the work of Nehirim. I feel absolutely blessed and proud to be a part of it.

The Nehirim retreat served as a great reminder to me of the importance of community and great preparation for Passover, the holiday that celebrates Jewish freedom and justice. For me, it’s also an opportunity to celebrate personal freedom. This Passover has been going really well. I had spent large parts of last week and the previous helping my parents with various tasks in hard work of preparing for this holiday. I think I had a lot more preparing to do while growing up as Orthodox in my parents’ home. Now the preparation is over, and I am able to celebrate freedom with my friends and family.

I have enjoyed the wonderful company of my growing family, as well as two wonderful seders with my dear friends, the Balkany Family. I’ve been spending a lot of time reflecting on the meaningful things I’ve done in the past few months, the cathartic experience they’ve taken me on and the wonderful, touching feedback, emails, facebook messages and acknowledgments I have received from many people. I could have never dreamed that I would get this far in such a short time.

While I feel grateful for many things, this Passover particularly I also feel free. I have enjoyed the freedom to tell the truth to those who will listen and to offer hope to those who may feel there is none and to live freely and contentedly with who I am — a feeling that many of us are lucky have and celebrate in our lives. Diversity is what makes this world vibrant and beautiful.

I hope that everyone reading this can embrace the freedom that is our right. It might be just one click away — a phone call, or a community or family event that can change your lives; wherever your freedom is, it is most certainly there waiting for you. And, when you find it, you will feel the sweetness of nothing but acceptance, appreciation and love.

An Anthem for LGBT Youth - The Jewish Daily Forward

2012-04-08T22:41:00.000-04:00

An Anthem for LGBT Youth

Putting 'It Gets Better' in Jewish Context

COURTESY OF CHAIM LEVIN

Making ‘It Get Better: After a rash of LGBT suicides galvanized the nation, the ‘It Gets Better’ project and book are letting vulnerable youth know they’re not alone.

By Jay Michaelson

Published April 08, 2012, issue of April 13, 2012.

A New Jersey jury recently convicted 20-year-old Dharun Ravi of hate crimes for using a webcam to watch as his college roommate kissed another man. Days after the incident, the subject of the video stream, Tyler Clementi, jumped off the George Washington Bridge. Clementi’s tragic death was one of a recent spate of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender suicides that drew attention to the consequences of homophobia and bullying.

In response to the events, sex advice columnist and journalist Dan Savage and his husband, Terry Miller, founded the “It Gets Better” project, a series of videos designed to remind vulnerable kids — especially LGBT ones — that life does indeed get better, and to encourage them to hang on. Now comes the “It Gets Better” book, a compendium of essays (many transcribed from the web project) with the same purpose.

In honor of the publication, the Forward asked three young people from Nehirim, the national community of LGBT Jews that I founded in 2004, to share their own “It gets better” stories. These three very different individuals show how Jewishness and LGBT identity intersect, how each can enrich the other, and how the deepest values of our religious tradition are upheld precisely when we hear those voices that have been excluded in the past. Although the rate of LGBT teen suicide has not decreased, hopefully these voices can inspire us to make it get better, for all our sakes.

Gotta give ’em hope

Chaim Levin, 22

I grew up in Brooklyn, N.Y., as a deeply religious Orthodox Jew, and attended some of my community’s greatest yeshivot, or Orthodox religious secondary schools. Yet, dealing with daily bullying and alienation for being gay, and subsequently going through reparative “therapy,” I felt hopeless and alone. Before I came out three years ago, I was deeply ashamed of myself. I believed that I was never going to be someone. I let the bullies, naysayers and those who would have me either stay in the closet or change get the better of me.

I was fortunate to meet people in the Jewish gay and lesbian community who had learned to reconcile themselves as both gay and as Jewish. I started accepting who I am. And it has gotten better and better for me every day. I never thought I would see my friends and family accept me as they do today. There have been ups and downs, but everyone in my life has come a very long way, just as I have, in finding not only peace, but also pride in who I am. I used to think that there was no future for me, but now I cannot wait for the richness and fullness that I know tomorrow will bring.

Harvey Milk, California’s first openly gay elected official, said: “I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. And you…. And you…. And you…. Gotta give ’em hope.” This quote has guided me to let everyone know how much they have to live for and how they are worthy, loved and beautiful.

In the past year, I’ve tried to spread this message as best I can. I participated in an “It Gets Better” video by and for gay and lesbian Orthodox Jews, which sent a very powerful message to Jewish LGBT youth. I talked about my experiences in reparative “therapy,” and I played a role in persuading Orthodox rabbis to reconsider their support for it. And in March I launched a blog called Gotta Give ’em Hope (gottagivemhope.blogspot.com), which has received an incredible response and generated much discussion.

Most important, I have grown and learned more about myself through the love and support of thousands of people who are motivated by the challenges young gay people face today. I am deeply humbled and honored to be part of the great fight for equality for all people. I hope that I can continue being an activist and an inspiration to those out there who feel hopeless and who need reassurance. I want them to know that it really does get better.

Jewish Enough

Kayla Higgins, 22

‘It gets better” applies not just to LGBT people, but also to all of us who are marginalized. One of my greatest anxieties growing up in New York with a Jewish mother and an Irish-Protestant father was that my Jewish peers would not consider me “Jewish enough.” At the sleep-away camp I attended for six summers as a preteen, the Jewish girls said that I could not possibly be Jewish because of my skinny nose and red hair. I didn’t look “Jewish enough.” Then, several years later, at the post-bat mitzvah Hebrew school I attended, I was socially exiled for claiming one day at bagel break that my celebrity crush was Leonardo DiCaprio — a statement met with awkward silence and then a bewildered exclamation from one girl: “But he’s not Jewish!” I was left to wonder what she would have said if I had mentioned that my second-biggest celebrity crush was Keira Knightley.

After that experience, I almost gave up on ever feeling “Jewish enough.” It wasn’t until my freshman year in college that I decided to tap into my Jewish identity again, by going on a Taglit-Birthright-Israel trip during winter break. I found myself surrounded by a lot of students who, like me, came from interfaith and progressive Jewish backgrounds; however, my newfound comfort evaporated during one bus ride, when I got into a heated argument with an Orthodox Jewish student over his claim that if one did not believe that “Jews were God’s chosen people,” one was not truly Jewish. I argued with him vehemently that the belief that Jews were holier than non-Jews contradicted Jewish beliefs about the equal value of all people, and that it was not so different to say that Jews were holier than non-Jews than it was to say that straight people were holier than gay men and lesbians!

The passion that arose inside me as I said those words made me realize that this was a conviction I had been carrying inside me for years, along with the knowledge that I was queer and for that reason also might never be considered “Jewish enough.” These two beliefs, I realized, were linked: My experience as a queer Jew enabled me to see the wrongness of deciding who is Jewish enough in other cases.

Gradually, it did get better. I learned in college that I was not alone in my convictions; that many progressive and even some Conservative Jews had subtler understandings of the “chosen people,” and that all movements except Orthodoxy have lifted rabbinic prohibitions on homosexual conduct. While the benchmarks for what is “Jewish enough” may vary, they all claim that there is some single standard of what it means to be Jewish. But what I know now is that the concept of kavod habriyot, respect for all living creatures, makes this benchmarking of “Jewish enough” irrelevant, because Judaism ultimately upholds the dignity of all human beings, even bisexual redheaded half-Jews like me.

Live Authentically

Rafi Daugherty, 29

If you had told me in high school that “it gets better,” I wouldn’t have believed you.

My name is Rafi. I am 29 years old and I live in Denver. I was raised as an Orthodox Jew in the Midwest. I was born female, was raised female and, due to my religion, very segregated from boys. I went to school and camp with all girls, and yet I knew from a young age that I didn’t feel like a girl: I wanted to be a boy. At some point, I gave up thinking that God would transform me into a boy, and I tried to be the best girl I could. But I had painful pangs inside, especially around the holidays and in situations where I felt out of place. I used food and eventually alcohol and drugs to cover up my depression and to push away my anxiety. I thought about suicide on a regular basis, and even when I was having a good time, I never felt truly happy.

I managed to survive high school, thanks to some very loving friends and teachers. I feel lucky that I was appreciated for my masculine traits in an all-girl school. Some of my peers even thought it was cool that I was a tomboy. When I was finally living on my own in New York in 2002, and had gotten and stayed sober, I “came out” as queer and started living more authentically. I cut my hair short and started wearing pants, which helped me feel much more comfortable in my skin. Although I was attracted mainly to boys, I dated girls because it validated my masculine appearance.

I met transgender people, but felt that my religious beliefs prevented me from transitioning myself, although the reality was that I had slowly stopped observing Orthodox Judaism already. In 2007, I finally realized that I was the only one holding myself back from transitioning to male. And so I did it: I moved forward with the transition and started testosterone in July of that year. I have never looked back. I feel more comfortable in my skin today than I ever have. I have more friends than ever. And I feel that I am living honestly and authentically at all times. I don’t regret my past, and I don’t ignore the fact that I was raised female. I love being male, but value the life I had prior to transition, as it helped me become the kind, loving, intelligent man that I am today. It really does get better when you can make your own choices and start to live as the person you really are.

Huffington Post: National Education Day and the Education I Never Had

2012-04-07T13:59:00.003-04:00

The focus of my blog is to give hope to people, particularly those who suffered because they were different, were raised in an environment that made the future of their lives more difficult or survived of abuse — people who may feel like they have no voice.

I hope that this website can spread awareness, spur discussion and motivate real change on issues that are hardly discussed at this time in many communities, particularly more insular ones. My personal story involves my journey growing up an Orthodox gay Jew. Thankfully, dialogue on LGBT issues is taking place even within Orthodox communities.

Personally, the issue of education is profoundly important to me. I wasn't raised with any formal, academic education at all. I believe it necessary that we acknowledge other equally important issues facing youth today, including education, which is so fundamental to our lives and livelihoods. I recently wrote about education in the Huffington Post:

April 4th, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

Yesterday was proclaimed "National Education and Sharing Day, USA" in tribute to the late Chabad Lubavitch Rabbi Menachem Schneerson's birthday. President Obama wrote:

For centuries, the pursuit of knowledge and the cultivation of character have driven American progress and enriched our national life. On Education and Sharing Day, U.S.A., we renew our commitment to these timeless aspirations, and we rededicate ourselves to fostering in our sons and daughters inquiring minds and compassionate hearts.

In a global economy where more than half of new jobs will demand higher education or advanced training, we must do everything we can to equip our children with the tools for success. Their journey begins early, and it demands stewardship from throughout the community -- from parents and caregivers who inspire a love of learning to teachers and mentors who guide our children along the path to achievement. Our Nation's prosperity grows with theirs, and by ensuring every child has access to a world class education, we reach for a brighter future for all Americans...

Reading the President's proclamation deeply saddened me as I thought about the education I missed out on in the Chabad school Oholei Torah (Educational Institute Oholei Menachem) in Crown Heights. Basic reading, writing, spelling, math, science and history were not part of the curriculum at any of the Chabad schools I attended. My classmates and I did not have access to a world class education.

I have profound respect for the late Rebbe and his legacy. However, I remember very clearly those talks that he gave -- the ones we studied every year in elementary school about the unimportance of "secular" (non-religious, formal) education, and the great importance of only studying limmudei kodesh (holy studies). As a result of this attitude, thousands of students were not taught anything other than the Bible throughout our years attending Chabad institutions.

Until this day, Oholei Torah and many other Chabad schools -- particularly schools for boys and a few for girls in Crown Heights and in some other places -- do not provide basic formal education. It pains me to think of all the the doctors, lawyers and other professionals and leaders that could have come out of these institutions. These institutions have cultivated the character, compassion, cooperation and goodwill the President also speaks of, producing thousands of shluchim(emissaries) for Chabad all over the world. However, that is the goal of such schools; if you do not become an emissary, you fell through the cracks and are not prepared for anything else. The mantra of Oholei Torah, what most people say when asked why they send their kids to such a school is: "That's what the school wants for their students, and that's what their parents want; they hope for their kids to become emissaries of the Rebbe."

The big question remains unanswered though: What happens to all of us whose futures do not involve becoming emissaries? The majority of students do not go on to become emissaries and lack even a basic formal education, and, hence, the brighter future the President refers to is difficult to reach. As I attempt to make up for a lack of education in anything other than the Bible and a language not relevant to the workplace, I have more and more questions about how such a harmfully unbalanced educational system still exists.

Four and half thousand people have become emissaries, a few people have managed to go on to college and a few Chabad schools do include formal non-religious curricula. Many people within the community of Crown Heights still rigorously defend Oholei Torah, excusing the failings of the school by pointing to the "many success stories." Yet, they fail to notice the largest crowd, those of us who have been ignored, who miss and always will miss the basic education that the President extols.

In honor of National Education and Sharing Day, we should examine whether we are doing everything we can to equip our children for success. Failure to provide basic formal education cripples children within Chabad communities. We cannot ignore the harm done, and I refuse to remain silent. By opening discussion on education, we risk only improving the Chabad community and honoring the Rebbe's humanitarian legacy as an advocate for youth.

On National Education and Sharing Day, I hope we all reach for a brighter future for everyone and strive for schools that cultivate not only character, compassion, cooperation and goodwill, but basic education and tools for success. As we celebrate Passover and overcoming the chains that held us back, I hope we reflect also on things things that keep us from personal freedom today.

Huffington Post: Wearing My Rainbow Yarmulka With Pride

2012-04-02T00:26:00.000-04:00

March 30th, 2012

Chaim Levin

Jewish LGBT activist

Wearing a yarmulka had been a great challenge for me, mostly since I stopped identifying as an Orthodox Jew. While living in Crown Heights, I have walked the streets without a yarmulka, which many people saw as the ultimate sign of rebellion from me -- the last straw and lamentable proof that Chaim Levin is not religious anymore. Many people could not understand why I refused to just wear it and show "respect" for the people in Crown Heights. My parents insist that I must wear a yarmulka while at their house, and I am happy to respect their wishes.

Wearing a yarmulka in public, on the other hand, has been something I have wrestled with for some time. I have always wrestled with the wind to keep my yarmulka from flying off. That inconvenience was not the struggle that drove me to stop wearing my yarmulka.

I could not understand why it was so important that I wore this thing to define my status as a Jew and, on the streets of Crown Heights, to be perceived as an respectful Jew. I often felt, if wearing a yarmulka were so important to the Jewish community, my parents and my grandparents who survived the camps and the evil reigns of the likes of Stalin and Lenin, I should wear a yellow star on my arm. While that might have been rebelliously, perhaps angrily bold and even offensive, it would have been something I understood.

The only rationale that I was never able to dismiss was that a yarmulka is a sign of identity; identity was something I was taught to proclaim and be proud of no matter what. Dressed as an Orthodox Jew, I walked around Paris while in yeshiva, despite the many issues I encountered from some anti-Semitic people.

However, I was kicked out of yeshiva after being identified as gay, and I encountered very many difficulties and alienation within the Orthodox community because of my identity. As a result, I wrestled with my identity as an Orthodox Jew, and eventually stopped wearing my yarmulka. Still, I was constantly reminded of it whenever I would feel the wind on my face and instinctively put my hand to my head in vain to protect a visceral part of me I no longer had.

I later learned, contrary to what I was taught, that wearing a yarmulka is not the exclusive signature of Orthodox Jews. Recently, I had the great honor and pleasure of meeting with someone who pioneered rainbow yarmulkas when we met to discuss my journey into the public eye and giving people hope. I was delighted and humbled when he gave me the yarmulka that he wore at his wedding this past July when he married his partner of five years. I put it on right then and there and felt like I never wanted to take it off ever again.

This rainbow yarmulka palliated the hole in my viscera and resolved some of the conflict I have been wrestling with. I have not wrestled alone. I am proud of the progress that gay people have made. I am proud of the gay Jewish people who have overcome their personal struggles. I am proud of, elated with and grateful for my wonderful parents and others from the Orthodox community I had believed would never accept me. Growing up Orthodox, I was taught identity was something to proclaim and be proud of no matter what. I understand that better now, and I am certainly prouder.

Wearing my yarmulka with pride, I have appeared in public for interviews during the past few months. I was surprised by some very harsh criticism and scrutiny that claimed I was misrepresenting myself as a fully observant Orthodox Jew. What I have realized is that wearing a yarmulka in public is a symbol of pride in my family, my Jewish heritage and the struggles Jewish people have overcome, and I am proud to wear my Jewish identity on my head. Others have suggested that the pride I have wrestled to find is an antagonistic ploy against the Orthodox community, in essence subverting Orthodox custom with the "gay agenda" right on the top of my head. If there were a "gay agenda," I would hope to be asked to participate, but it wouldn't change why I wear my yarmulka. However, there is no "gay agenda" other than in homophobic rhetoric, just as there has never been a "Jewish agenda" or Judenproblem other than in anti-Semitic propaganda. Still, even real agendas have little to do with the inherently personal decision to wear yarmulkas. My own choice to wear a rainbow yarmulka has nothing to do with how others might see it.

I wear my yarmulka because I am proud: I am Jewish and gay. I am equally proud of both identities and would not want see anyone discriminated against because of either. As time goes by, as more awareness grows and Jewish communities and the Orthodox community in particular acknowledges people who are different, people who are gay, people who are victims of abuse or authority -- as light is shed on the precarious realities faced by people within Orthodox communities -- I am more inclined than ever to wear a yarmulka and proclaim my pride as gay Jew. These two identities have been the targets of discrimination and violence for millenia and once seemed incompatible. My identity as a gay Jew grows stronger and prouder with each passing day. While I may not wear it all the time, I will always wear my yarmulka with pride.

Rochel Pinson Z"L — her namesake makes an elated uncle of 7

2012-03-29T11:03:00.000-04:00

On Tuesday March 27th, the miracle of life graced my family yet again. Over the past month, my family was lucky to see the birth of twin boys from my brother and his wife, and now, the birth of my niece, Rochel, my oldest sister’s third child.

When my all of my nieces and nephews were born, it was very exciting. But, in the sake of all honesty, nothing was quite as exciting as the past month when twin boys and a beautiful baby girl entered our lives. For starters, twins are awesome. I can sit for hours just staring at my nephews, amazed by the fact that there are actually two of them — two little precious, adorable babies that I just wanna be the best possible uncle to. And now, there’s Rochel, or as I decided to call her, princess Rochel.

My twin nephews were named after their great grandparents. The older one, Lev Ahron, was named after my sister-in-law’s grandfather. As far as I know, it was the first namesake that their family has had; his wonderful wife whom we all refer to as Grandma, desrbied Leib (Lev Ahron) as a wonderful kind hearted man. The second twin, Binyomin, was named after my father’s father. Aside from my oldest brother, there never hasn’t been another Binyomin Levin named after my grandfather. If you ask anyone that knew my grandfather from the old days, Binyomin Levin was one of the kindest people out there and unfortunately died at the very young age of 43. Both of my nephews are absolutely the cutest babies I’ve ever seen. I do say that about almost every baby, especially my nieces and nephews, but legit; they’re heaven. Out of respect for my family’s privacy, pictures of my nephews and niece will remain private unless I’m given permission otherwise. While you may not be able to see their faces, I’m sure you can visualise some of what I’m saying and perhaps kvell along with me at the joys of babies and the way their presence graces our lives in so many ways.

My niece Rochel comes just about four short months after my brother-in-law’s mother Rochel passed away long before her time. Rochel Pinson (originally Drizin) was probably one of the kindest, sweetest and incredible people that I have ever known. When our families were connected by my sister marrying her son, she had taken a great interest in me and was always so supportive and welcoming of me no matter what. I went through a period of time where I was outcast by many in Crown Heights, and I felt that sting very often in lots of different places. But, with Rochel Pinson, there was no such thing.

At her funeral, I cried like I never cried before. I stood near my mother and cried on her shoulder, inconsolable, heartbroken and distraught. She was young, she was sweet, she was kind and she was fabulous. The world suffered a great loss that day. Rochel Pinson was a hero. Until this day I don’t know the right words to say to my brother-in-law and his family that can possibly communicate how deeply the loss of their mother has affected me personally.

From the day I found out my sister was pregnant I had a sneaking suspicion that she would be having a girl. So far with my sister, I was right all three times, and, equally perfectly, my sister’s two older children Tzvi, and Ella were given names of the most honorable people in my family, my grandparents Tzvi and Helen Eichler. Last week, before my sister even had her baby, I dreamed that I was holding a baby girl, I saw her, I felt her, I hugged her and she was princess Rochel. I knew in my heart that she would be a girl. I was thrilled when we got the call that my sister gave birth to a nine pound beautiful baby girl; princess Rochel had entered the world.

I know that my niece is going to be the second of many to carry the great name of Rochel Pinson — a woman that has touched the lives of many people, and that is indeed a great legacy to carry. But like my other nieces and nephews, they take good example from their parents, and I know it with absolute certainty that Rochel — the daughter of my sister Sara, born just four short months after we lost Rochel, also a daughter of Sara — will be a shining light to many people and a ray of hope and consolation to all of us who so deeply miss dear Rochel.

Rochel, wherever you are, you must know how much we miss you everyday. I look at your picture from time to time and feel like picking up the phone and calling you just to say hi or stop by your house as I used to do frequently. You left behind a legacy that sets a really high standard, but you taught us well; just by being the genuinely kind and caring person you were, you’ve inspired me to take your legacy and use it to give hope to others just as you had given me hope when I was 17 and thought that no one accepted me. You welcomed me with open arms, in the same way you always did, asking me how I was doing and wanting to hear all about what was going on in my life. I love you dear Rochel, and I miss you so much.

Sometimes, you Gotta Give 'Em Hell

2012-03-24T20:50:00.000-04:00

Lately, I been thinking a lot about the name and goal of my blog — giving people hope, helping to create a brighter future for others in our communities and trying to send the powerful and life changing message that, just because some people might reject you for who you are, it is not you who needs to be changed. Molly Resnick’s behavior was something I could not be silent about. Such behavior is something that no one should have to tolerate silently. Such attitudes must be addressed and stood up against. I believe, sometimes, you Gotta Give 'em Hell.

Giving 'em Hell might seem like responding to bullying with bullying, but it is not. Loud, public, well-respected but utterly unrespectable voices like Ms Resnick’s cannot be the only ones that are heard. My post about what she did has brought a lot of readers and a lot of attention, especially from within the Chabad movement. I am still impressed that a Chabad Shlucha could not keep silent about it either. Not too long ago, I was dealing with daily bullying and shaming in the Chabad community; I personally never imagined that one of its leaders would come to my defense. People are talking, and things are changing. That gives me hope, and I hope it encourages others.

Giving ‘em Hope is my only goal, even if sometimes I have to give others some hell. I believe it is necessary to discuss the attitudes and behavior that would shame, embarrass, disenfranchise and harm minorities. Nothing changes unless it is first exposed. A more open dialogue allows for the awareness necessary to put an end to baseless discrimination and attacks against gay people, victims of sexual abuse and the many other groups of people who have suffered greatly.

Yesterday, I challenged someone on Facebook to confront me publicly regarding his very disrespectful messages that I should not discuss certain things. He hasn’t. He had originally reached out to me on Facebook because he heard about my work and wanted help networking with other gay Jews. I gladly helped him and was taken aback by his hostility and threats: "Watch me turn your whole image into a false reality that is you." Even though he would not show me the same respect, I chose to provide minimal detail regarding who he is in order to protect him. I understand that he was raised in an ultra Orthodox community that taught that everything must be kept hush hush and we must forgive people even if they took away some of the greatest part of our livelihoods; it’s unfortunately very similar to the community in which I grew up. But, the idea of simply forgiving people by remaining silent on behavior and attitudes that harm others is a draconian and barbaric one. That is not forgiving, nor is it forgivable; this idea must be given up. Remaining silent about harm only tolerates and perpetuates the intolerable. It is beyond me how people could be more concerned with insisting that victims should keep quiet and forgive — “not sue another Jew” — rather than with not standing idly by while others are harmed.

Today, I want to challenge him to inspire. I believe we must give people hope and empower, console and help them see the brighter and more beautiful future that awaits them despite the seemingly impossible situations that people might find themselves in just because they are different. I invite all of you to share your own stories of hope, to inspire others and to improve or even save just one life.

Sometimes, I feel like I've lived through several life times, but I am only 22. I'm try to engage people in discussion in order to gain a better understanding their opinions and motivations, and ultimately, how to bring an overall positive message that's both hopeful and intolerant of intolerance. Gottagivemhope was born six weeks ago one weekend morning while I was pondering how in the world am I going to say all the things that I feel must be said — to gay youth, Orthodox people and everyone generally. I believe we must not only tell people that it gets better, but also actively try to make it better now. So, I started this blog and have seen a response that continues to surprise and inspire me.

Always, I appreciate your comments and feedback, both public and private, and I want to encourage you to share your messages of hope.