🏳️‍🌈 Gay Shabbat

"... the Jewish and Queer communities have a lot of overlapping values."

Jun 14, 2024

This Drop was written by Gillian Gurney, a community member of Gay Shabbat, whose mission is to bring Queer, Jewish joy to LGBTQIA+ Gen Z Jews in New York City.

I didn’t exactly enjoy Friday night services growing up. When I was younger, I would physically plug my ears in protest when my dad, the head Cantor at my temple, sang. There would always be an inundation of congregants rushing towards me, pinching my cheeks, celebrating my father’s voice, and the frequent line “I’m sure you have a wonderful voice too.”

Spoiler alert: I don’t. And I was embarrassed.

It wasn’t just services, I struggled with my Jewish identity as a whole - I was known as the ‘cantor’s daughter’ before I had a clue as to much more about myself. Sometimes, I felt I didn’t have a say in who I was. Fast forward to college, I attended high holiday services at my Hillel for Rosh Hashanah, and left crying. I attributed it to missing my family, but I knew I missed my Jewish community too.

I went back to my dorm and watched my dad’s service 3,000 miles away. It felt strange cranking up my laptop volume as my dad’s voice billowed throughout my shoebox sized room, since I was used to desperately trying to block out the sound. I realized I was finally ready to not only hear his voice, but also listen.

Suddenly my conception of my Jewish identity began to change rapidly and I craved it. I attended Hillel and Chabad nearly every Friday throughout my college years. Despite this, there was always something slightly off as a constant undercurrent throughout my life. Little did I know, there was a whole other portion of my identity that I had yet to confront.

During the pandemic, when everyone was left with time to ruminate, I began to question if I was bisexual. It took my entire life to come to this realization, and it took an additional year to say it out loud in an empty room. Once I did, I immediately went back on my word.

Deviating from my Jewish identity journey, here, I felt like I had a choice, but it was dangerous - to conform to societal norms. I convinced myself I didn’t have to embrace this part of myself. I did this for the following two years and it was excruciating.

I didn’t understand the true degree that I was making choices out of fear, until I moved to New York City. In November, a friend asked me to attend something called Gay Shabbat. I will admit I said ‘of course!’ despite having zero intention of committing. I was so worried about how others would perceive me.

I ended up attending and this began a new chapter of my life. I came to realize that while there are parts about me that I can change, not only is Judaism not one of them, neither is bisexuality. These dual identities live deeply inside my soul, and they always have, but this was the first time I became ready to express them both on my own terms.

Gay Shabbat promotes inclusivity in a way I did not know I needed. It turns out the Jewish and Queer communities have a lot of overlapping values, like community and inclusivity, yet that is often an ignored truth. Through Gay Shabbat, I’ve met my girlfriend and so many wonderfully unique and special individuals who make me feel seen for everything that I am.

Pride is a time to celebrate, but also acknowledge the work that so many before us have contributed to allow our community to be in such a position while also understanding the work we still have ahead of us.

And now, over the course of 25 years, through the strength and reflection within myself alongside a village of support, I’m also ready to celebrate.

I’m finally ready to unplug my ears, let the noise wash over me, and even use my own voice too.

Gillian Gurney (she/her) is a Los Angeles Native turned New York City transplant. She works in political PR, and spends her free time running on the west side highway, hosting Shabbat dinners with her friends, and obsessively playing the NYT games.