We Wanted a Pride Club but Received a Club of Shame
As I was heading onto the tarmac on my way to Detroit for Pesach with my family, I received a mass email from President Berman. The email contained a letter from President Berman about Hareni, the newly formed LGBTQ club. Embedded within Berman’s letter were two additional letters: one by the chairman of the board of trustees and one by the roshei yeshiva. While I do not agree with the sentiment expressed in the previous two, it is the last letter that really upset me.
Before I continue, I would like to make clear that in my disagreement I do not intend to disparage or disrespect the authors of the letter. I, like them, once felt very passionately against normalizing queer Jews. I am simply disheartened at the lack of empathy for queer students displayed in the letter and the possible implications it has. If any rosh yeshiva or student is interested in learning about Hareni or queer Jews, genuinely reach out to me or the Presidents of Hareni. My inbox is always open.
In their letter, the roshei yeshiva misrepresent students’ aspirations for Hareni as a safe space for queer students as a fundamental attack on Halacha. They use this misrepresentation as a spring to go on the offense and radically transform what used to be the Pride Alliance to a club where students have to hold their gender identity and orientation in shame. The roshei yeshiva demand that the club refrain from any mention of the word “pride” as well as any LGBTQ flags. They ban any “events that are recreational in nature” and insist that events that contain social elements “even if they are advertised as ‘educational,’ will not be approved” — guidelines that apparently do not pertain to the Dave and Buster’s club or Board Game club.
Most insidiously, they demand that every communication that the club releases must “in a clear and noticeable fashion” state: “This club is for students who seek to fully maintain traditional halachic standards of sexual morality, as defined by the Shulchan Aruch.” The tone of this statement is reminiscent of a grade school teacher reprimanding a student and forcing him to write “I will not misbehave” 100 times on the chalkboard.
I, as well as the vast majority of students affiliated with Hareni, deeply care about Halacha, and the insinuation that queer students and their allies disregard Halacha is deeply offensive. To the contrary, it is in part due our care about Torah and the rabbinic process that gave us the Hillelic maxim: “Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow man. This is the entire Torah; the rest is commentary” that many YU students continue to stand up for queer Jews at much personal cost.
These harmful guidelines arise from a fundamental misunderstanding of what Hareni stands for and what we are concerned about. We currently stand and have always stood not in opposition to YU but rather in conjunction with the values of compassion and empathy that YU espouses. Further, queer supporting students do not put themselves at societal risk for the mere concern of funding for extracurricular events: lives are on the line.
According to reporting by Jewish Queer Youth (JQY), over 70% of children that join their program have contemplated suicide — more than four times the national average. Research also indicates that family and community rejection exacerbates this epidemic. In an interview with Rabbi Aryeh Lebowitz, one of likely authors of the letter, Dovid Lichtenstein, the host of the Halachic Headlines Podcast, passively mentioned that 100 queer children commit suicide in the Jewish community each year. While both he and Rabbi Lebowitz acknowledged the difficulties facing queer Jews, Rabbi Lebowitz admitted that there are “many rebbeim in the Yeshiva” that think that “there is nothing better to be done.” They spent most of the podcast busying himself with the hashkafic dilemmas that he believes an LGBTQ club poses, ignoring the glaringly larger dilemma.
Where are the numerous kol koreihs? Where is the manifold asifos? Where are the ads in the local Jewish newspapers highlighting the unnecessary deaths of 100 young Jewish people each year?
Contemplate the reaction if God-forbid there was evidence that 10 Jewish students a year committed suicide due to bullying and that those deaths were being intentionally surpressed. The outcry would be justifiably enormous. There would be speeches on how to mitigate bullying, meetings with gedolim how to systematically eliminate tormentors in the classroom and undoubtedly programs headed by the Chofetz Chaim Foundation to increase awareness and to teach the critical halachos of harming another Jew.
Yet when it comes to queer suicide, there is silence. There are no kol koreihs, no asifos, no special programs or awareness campaigns; only words from our leaders that God-forbid increases the likelihood of more death. This dichotomy cannot be understated.
The reason for such a discrepancy is that unlike bullying this dilemma requires empathy and fortitude. While many if not most people have experienced bullying, many Modern Orthodox leaders have not even met an openly queer Jew. Further, it requires fortitude of Modern Orthodox leaders to stand up to an intransigent homophobic segment of their constituents instead of virtue signaling to their Lakewood counterparts. It requires collective action from Modern Orthodox lay leaders and community members alike to announce the Jewish values of v’ahavta l’rei’acha kamocha and lo ta’amod al dam rei’echa. This move requires the antithesis of the aloof antagonism displayed by the authors of the letter; it requires compassion.
“And they saw him afar,” the Torah comments about Joseph’s brothers, “and before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him.” Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains that it was because the brothers saw him from afar and were unable to sympathize with Joseph and understand his condition that they conspired to slay him. Before distributing their letter to the entire student body, the roshei yeshiva did not discuss their halachic concerns with Hareni nor meet with queer students on campus to see what they could do to ensure their safety. Instead, merely weeks after a queer student was the subject of a hate crime for being queer, the roshei yeshiva felt the need to publicly express their frustration with the Hareni — tacking on new limitations on the club not clearly specified in the settlement. This was all done in a manner and wording that will only lead to further antagonism to queer students.
When I first came to YU, I still harbored much homophobia that was instilled in my youth. Homophobia, that, admittedly, in my formative years in yeshiva I let run rampant. However when I came to YU I made the conscious decision to seek out what was then YUPA and apply to the board. I did this because I knew that my hatred was unfounded and that I was likely missing key details. I can proudly say a year and half later that I am a strong ally of queer Jews.
I urge the authors of the letter as well as any student who is legitimately curious about Hareni to attend one of our events; to dispel any false notions they may have conjured. Recently — before the settlement, when the club was operating as YUPA — we went to Build-A-Bear Workshop where each student got to choose their choice of stuffed animal along with accessories. We schmoozed, laughed and had fun. There was no “trans indoctrination session,” nor was there any halachic debate where part of the Torah was negated. It was simply students getting together, ally and queer and sharing a safe, meaningful time together. Simple as that.
One Beren student recently shared with me that it was only due to the Pride Alliance and these events that she felt welcomed at YU. “That’s why having a pride alliance is so important,” she said. “Everyone deserves a space where they feel welcome and accepted. The unfortunate truth is that, for many queer students at YU, that sense of belonging is rare and often only found within YUPA, as it was for me.” The events had no designated time for ‘non-recreational discussion,’ rather it was a natural progression, where when people feel cared for they are able to be vulnerable.
Yet, some sit comfortably in their ivory towers of seforim isolated from the real struggles of queer students and intend to lecture us on our frumkeit. The Talmud Shabbat records that when Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai first came out of his cave God castigated him, “Lehachriv olami yatzatam?” [Have you come out to destroy my world?]
Yes, I am frustrated and saddened. I am frustrated from the lack of sincere compassion outside of platitudes to the most vulnerable members of our community who are dying each year. I am saddened by the enduring absence of YU’s cherished values in its actions.
You advocate Torat Adam yet where is the infinite worth of every queer Jew?
You proclaim Torat Emet yet lie in your promises and settlements to treat Hareni under “the guidelines set for all undergraduate clubs.”
You tout Torat Chesed as the cornerstone of your institutions yet turn your eyes from our suffering.
You stand by Torat Chaim as 100 Jewish children die each year without protest.
There is a concept in Jewish literature that a name defines something. I have been thinking a lot about the name Hareni, and what it stands for. While some have taken other meanings, for me, Hareni embodies the similar call by Abraham: henini — behold. Hareni is as if to say, ‘behold I am.’ ‘Here I am with all my foibles; here I present myself in my fullness with all my mistakes and successes.’ So here I am: no longer ashamed.
Photo Caption: Students at the recent YUPA Build-A-Bear event
Photo Credit: Schneur Friedman
