The Holidays
So, hi again. I have at least one theater piece planned, and I’m hoping to do more soon. I am busy behind the scenes making my own theater, not just talking about other people’s work. But for now, it’s the season. Let’s talk. This could’ve been many pieces. It might seem a little scattered. It felt important.
I could talk about the election (I’m not gonna blow any minds by telling you who I’m voting for). I could talk about any number of other world events (you will not catch me doing so; I’m tired of fighting, and I wish others would join me in being anti-fighting, let’s put it that way). I will leave all that to people wiser than myself. Instead, I will talk about the non-theater things I know better than almost any.
Judaism. Queerness. Family. And Food. They all intersect quite a bit.
Rosh HaShanah has always been one of the most special holidays in my family, whether it’s watching Jersey Shore, doing tashlich near a playground, the itchy dresses my sister likes to remind me about, or the food. We’ll get back to the food.
Yom Kippur has evolved so many times for me, but now it is a day of reflection and return to my roots.
There are a lot of ways to refer to this collection of holidays. One is in Hebrew, Yamim Noraim, the days of awe. The word Nora, which, depending on context, means awesome or awful. (Sorry to my girlies with that name oops).
National Coming Out Day is on Yom Kippur this year. Earlier this year, Easter coincided with Trans Day of Visibility, which ruffled a lot of feathers, but I find it poetic. On Yom Kippur, many read the pasuk/verse allegedly condemning homosexuality in the Torah. I once heard from a Rabbi it is the HOLIEST TORAH READING OF THE YEAR. That’s obviously not my rabbi still. But how beautiful and poetic in my mind that a day where people are reconciling and doing their best to live more truthfully do so fully, in the eyes of Hashem and their fellows. It’s complicated. For my whole life as a queer Jew, those are the two words I must say more than any.
We go through Tfilah, Tshuvah, Tzedakah, (Repair, Prayer, and Righteous Action) as the ways to repair our relationship to G-d and one another. Some fast. Some, like myself, go to the mikvah, a place with which I have a deeply complex (and sometimes beautiful relationship). It’s a process I intrinsically now see as queer as it is Jewish. I also think about my recovery and how it informs these holy days, and certainly, it has made it all the more healing and all the less painful.
Regarding my coming out, that was a minute ago. I’ve been on a long journey and have seemed to find a comfy rest point years ago. But coming to terms and reconciling all the pieces will be lifelong. I’ve been so welcomed as a man in some parts of my family that one person made a comment about my bris this year… to my knowledge, I never had one… unless it went horribly wrong. (that joke is the kind of joke that I think I must make; as a Jewish man, it is my obligation; sorry that it’s crass). But it tells me how fully and completely I’m seen as a Jewish man in their eyes. Others… I could go the rest of my life without seeing or speaking to again, and many at least without really being seen or heard. I’m not saying that to be mean. I’m just acknowledging that I have not always been able to hold my own complexities and I don’t blame others for falling short on that. Plenty of queer people reject my Jewishness, too. But being able to be whole, at least for one thing outside myself, is a gift.
Lately, I’ve been dealing with an immense amount of grief. That is to say, people I love seem to keep leaving. Either through death or dissolution of our relationships.
Sukkot, which is also part of the holidays, was another special time when I was named (note: baby naming I did have, not a bris, but I appreciate the spirit, Uncle [Redacted].) There is a picture of me in a pumpkin onesie with my grandmother on that special day.
She was happy as can be to hold me. My other grandmother, I think about more secular holidays because she was a more secular person, but the next thing I have to say I learned from our time together these last few years. (My mom has a book coming out if you’re curious) I think there are times that we have in each other’s lives that we are physically there for that we don’t remember, on either end of our life, and then we have pivotal moments before and after where we are still connected to one another. It’s my turn to keep the memories going, which brings us back to food. This year I’m making two cakes, one for each grandmother. This is our first holiday season without either major matriarch. I’m not looking forward to it. I am sure someday that may change again. As I said, they're the Days of Awe. Sometimes, things are awesome. Sometimes, they’re awful. But time keeps going.
Shana Tova.
