‘I used to be a very loud, proud Jewish drag queen in my community. In post-October 7, I lost that. I lost the advocacy. I lost all the inclusion I worked so hard for in our tiny, conservative city. And I never, ever thought that I could go and celebrate Pride again.”
A.’s statement was just one of the powerful statements made during the Jewish Federations of North America’s Pride Delegation trip to Israel, which ended the day before war broke out with Iran.
Nearly 100 delegates from across North America and Canada traveled to Israel – some for the first time – to experience what it means to be queer, Zionist Jews in their homeland. There were 26 communities represented on the trip, half the participants were under the age of 40, and there was a balance of men, women, and transgender participants. The tour took them to the Supernova music festival site, to the Old City of Jerusalem, to Tel Aviv, and more.
The Jerusalem Post attended the closing event to speak to delegates about what they learned, reflected on, and felt during their tour.
A prevalent reflection of many was the feeling of relief and joy and being able to exist as unabashedly queer Jewish Zionists while in Israel.
The Post spoke to a transgender woman in her 20s, a gay man in his 60s, and a bisexual woman from Canada, all who said that they felt pushed out of queer spaces because of their love and support for Israel.
Also present were Russell Lord, who, with his husband, Avi Uzari, successfully became the first gay couple to have their marriage recognized in Israel, after they sued the government, and Omer Ohana, the widowed partner of IDF veteran Maj. Sagi Golan, who pushed the amendment to the Bereaved Families Law to recognize bereaved common-law partners as equals.
Queer spaces have typically aligned more strongly with progressive movements, and it is these movements that have, post October 7, become more hostile to Israel and Zionism.
Some people the Post spoke to have felt unsafe in queer spaces as queer Jews and Israel supporters, or have felt that in order to be accepted as queer Jews, they have to renounce their Zionism.
“Coming to Israel made me realize I don’t have to choose,” said T.
Intersecting identities
Different intersecting identities were a focal point of the Post’s conversations, including with Scott Kalmikoff, a Modern Orthodox rabbi and gay man.
“I was ordained by a Modern Orthodox rabbinical school, and Orthodoxy’s relationship with homosexuality is complicated,” he said.
“And so there was a time in my life where I really fought being gay, because I felt like it was in conflict with my commitment to Halacha, Jewish law, and to living a Jewish lifestyle. And it took a long time for me to accept myself fully, and I waited until I was done with my rabbinical school, and I’m much happier now that I came out and I’m living my truth and honest to who I am. But there was a time where it felt like it was in conflict, and participating in missions like this and experiences like this makes me feel like my gay and Jewish identities aren’t in conflict with each other.”
The Post asked whether, because many queer spaces have moved toward anti-Zionism, Kalmikoff has felt forced to choose between the two.
“My identity has always been a Jewish one,” he said. “And so I feel very strongly about being a Jew and about being a Zionist, and for me, that is my No. 1 priority. So if there are people in the queer community who have an issue with my Jewish and Zionist identity, I’m not worried about that, because there have always been antisemites and people who hate Jews, and there are many queer people who hate Jews, too. My highest priority is defending the Jewish people and advocating for the Jewish people in the State of Israel.”
Kalmikoff explained that coming to Israel gave him a huge amount of strength to be able to go back to America and to continue advocating for Israel and the Jewish people.
“We are one nation with one heart. What happens here in this country affects Jews worldwide, and we as Jews in America have a responsibility to advocate for our brothers and sisters of Israel.”
PLANNING THE trip wasn’t easy. The timeline was ambitious: two-and-a-half months to plan an international mission, to build something from scratch, while navigating multiple time zones, launching registration in the middle of Passover.
“The challenge was also to allow them to experience Israel not just as tourists, but as their full and authentic selves,” said Nate Looney, JFNA’s director of community safety and belonging on the Jewish Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion (“JEDI”) team.
“But the hunger was real. The need was undeniable. And look at what we created together.”
He added that the trip existed because it was what he needed, and what he could not find after October 7.
“As a black, transgender queer Jewish leader, I’ve navigated intersections of identity carefully all my life. But since October 7, that navigation has become even more complex, more isolating. I’ve watched as some spaces that once felt safe for my queerness became hostile to my Jewishness. I’ve seen progressive allies question my right to grieve for Israeli hostages. I felt the weight of holding multiple marginalized identities in a world that often demands that you choose a side.”
Looney explained that there was a need to “embody every part of our identity without apology, where we stand at the Western Wall as gay men, lesbians, transgender and nonbinary folks and feel those ancient stones, connecting us with generations of Jewish resilience.
“We carry a network of LGBTQ+ Jewish leaders who will never, ever again have to wonder if we belong, who will never, ever again face isolation alone,” he added.
The incoming vice chairman of the board of Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA), Jeff Schoenfeld, told the Post that there has been a surge in LGBT Jews seeking out community and seeking out spaces to lean into their Jewish and Israeli identities. “We knew we had to do a mission.
“It’s very expensive to run missions these days, so we said, we have to heavily subsidize the mission so anybody who wants to come can come. We raised a lot of money, basically to create a subsidy of $7,000 per participant, in order to make it very affordable.”
I told him I’d already had three people cry sharing how transformational the week was for them in terms of their Jewish identity, in terms of their connection to Israel, in terms of their connection to the LGBT community in Israel.
“Those were the goals we set out to achieve,” said Schoenfeld. “It was first just to connect people to the beauty and complexity of Israel, to make direct connections to the LGBT community in Israel, and to connect participants to the work that federations do in Israel, obviously to the LGBTQ community, but well beyond.”
JFNA has brought nearly $900 million of emergency aid since October 7, and a special council chooses where the budget is allocated to, whether it is trauma counseling or to kibbutzim or charities for elderly people.
Despite the positive reactions of the delegates, Schoenfeld stressed that the intention was not to “pour Kool-Aid” and paint a singular image of Israel.
“This was a trip of exposing people to The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, and for them to make their own decisions of what they embrace, how they embrace.”
And there certainly was bad and ugly – just a day after the end of the trip, overnight to be exact, Israel preemptively struck Iran, leaving the delegates unable to fly back on Friday as planned.
Given it was, for some of them, the first time visiting, the Post checked back on to see how they were feeling.
“Just taking it day by day, but I feel safe staying at the hotel with the bunker,” said Gray Aftor.
Yonaton Mehrzadi said “it gives the feeling we are back in the COVID era, everything’s calm.
“If there is one place you would want to be in this world where rockets might hit you, it’s Israel.”
When asked if he was nervous about getting home, he said it was more the feeling of uncertainty around how long things are taking, because he has to work, but not nervous about being at war.
“We are on the winning side, so it makes sense. You’re with family, it’s Israel.”
If one thing was certain from meeting the delegates, it was that they are now a family for life.