Stepping Out of 3 Closets (Fall 2002)
By Dick Stein
 
Besides the class of gay males and persons who stutter, I belong to at least one more minority group--Jews. And besides it being just one more minority identity, I am beginning to see other ways in which being Jewish might parallel being gay and a stutterer.
 
For one thing, it might be one more closet. Being Jewish can be something that we do not talk about, do not call attention to. (Sound familiar?) In America today, many Jews are very assimilated and acculturated. Many Jews have truncated or otherwise altered their surnames to make them "less Jewish." When we don't wear a yarmulke (the skull cap worn by Orthodox Jewish males), don't take off work for Jewish holidays, don't leave work early on Friday to be home for the Sabbath--no one need ever know that we are Jewish. And maybe many of us enjoy it that way.
 
Am I in this closet, am I a closet Jew? (It sounds too much like the crypto-Jews in Spain who, when the Inquisition ordered them to convert or face death, pretended to convert to Christianity but secretly practiced their religion.) I might start with where I have been in my life and where I am now.
 
It would be nice if I could wholeheartedly assert that I am proud of my Jewish identity, and have never been anything but. I believe I have very, very slowly been coming to a point where this is true. I get very upset when people try to convert me. I watch TV programs and read books about the Holocaust. I have even been known to get my blood pressure up a bit when some of these issues come up in the lunchtime discussions at work. I relate some of these things to a duty I now feel to the survivors of the Holocaust. When I think of those who endured so much, and gave up their lives, simply because they were Jewish, I tend to feel a duty to not desert my Jewishness.
 
However, just as--in the past, at least--many of us who are gay and lesbian internalized society's disapproval and became self-hating--bitchy to one another and hating of ourselves--my early experiences as a Jew had a very similar effect on me.
 
America was a very different country in the 1940s, when I was a very young child. Compared to today, America then was less tolerant of diversity. My family experienced several episodes of anti-Semitic harassment. I don't know how, or whether, this overt prejudice was explained to me by my parents; but, however they may have explained it to me, I responded with the logic of the very young mind: I got the idea that being Jewish was something bad.
 
Even when I was a little older, my family lived near a Catholic school, and the bigger boys on their way home from the parochial school would bully me, call me "little Jew boy"--plus pick on me for being a sissy.
 
To make the story very short, I internalized this anti-Semitism, just as gay men historically internalized society's homophobia. I have not wanted to be Jewish. I abandoned all observance of the religion, and pretty much also turned away from the culture, from anything that would be a part of a Jewish identity.
 
I have had many years to come to grips with being Jewish and, very slowly, I have done so--to a degree. I will never become an observant Jew, following the customs and praying in a synagogue. Perhaps unfortunately, I have no religious faith at all. So I could no more start attending synagogue than I could start attending church and immersing myself in the majority belief.
 
At one point I became aware of having become more comfortable with a Jewish identity, and I began to look for ways in which I could feel Jewish while being completely secular and non-religious. I discovered a group called Humanistic Judaism, but quickly realized this was not for me. Similarly, but even more disillusioning, I discovered a group called Chicagoland Secular Humanist Jews. At first I was very excited to find this group; but in the end (and for reasons I won't go into), I sadly concluded this was not the answer to my quest. I decided I needed to give up my search for any answers to my question of how it might be possible to be Jewish in a way that was acceptable to me. At least no group held the answer, and I could only go on in my own individual way, with my own feelings, perspectives, and values.
 
So, I suppose I recognize an ongoing battle. Every day I stand at the door of one closet or another--the gay closet, the stuttering closet, the Jewish closet--and step out a little bit, when I feel like it--tentatively, cautiously, and in my own way. Insofar as I am now more comfortable with being Jewish, and even proud (sound familiar?), I am thinking of getting a Jewish star to wear around my neck. Now, that would be coming out of the closet, wouldn't it?



Passing Twice Index