I’m watching this movie “Coffee Date”…it’s amusing, it’s thought provoking, and it’s silly, which is why I’m watching it. But it got me thinking about the way our world works. What I want to know is: why do the kinds of stereotypes that limit multi-faceted identity seem to to proliferate lgbt-themed movies and programming. As a group that continually fights to assert their right to exist, you would think they would try a little harder to fight denounce the stereotypes that imprison them.
I understand the concept of reclaiming the slur; taking back the weapons that hurt. I don’t always agree, but I understand. I do not think that black people should use the n-word; and I don’t that think gay men should use the f-word. If anyone deserves the right to say these mean things, it’s the people who have felt the sting of the their use–but I still think they do more harm than good. Without telling people how they should act, I nevertheless urge them to resist the stereotypes that confine them. As a budding anthropologist I have had to learn that people are not so simply explained as ‘gay’, ’straight’, ‘lesbian’, ‘American’, ‘black’, ‘aboriginal’…whatever.
You cannot slap a label on someone and hope to describe the complexities of their being. And while you can slap one on yourself, give it to the world, and tell them to fuck themselves if they don’t like it–it begs the question: is that one label all of your self? Is there no deeper facet of your being? I do not want to exalt myself; I am most certainly unworthy of that. But recently I have come to the beginning of the end of an important chapter in my self-discovery that I would like to share with the non-existent masses that read my blog.
I am many things. And I am going to live my life in a way that reflects the varied nature of my heritage. Among the many things that I am, I am Jewish, even though I was not raised that way. According to Jewish law, I am Jewish because I was born of a Jewish woman. Never mind that she does not nor has she ever practiced Judaism. She is a Jew because her mother was one; and she does not practice Judaism because the Nazis scared the shit out of my great-grandmother and she decided that she would rather keep them ignorant to their nature than raise them Jewish and fear for their persecution.
It irks me to know that I was so simply deprived my birthright, but I understand. And now I have reclaimed it. Because something awoke inside me the first time I stepped into a synagogue. I hate to sound dramatic, but as soon as people around me started signing the psalms of Kabbalat Shabbat, I felt like my soul was on fire in the best way possible. So I am Jewish, and there are no questions about it, as far as I am concerned.
I have submerged myself in the Jewish community, and a part of me has come alive. However, parts of the world I inhabit as my Jewish self are beginning to conflict with other realities of my identity.
I am part Cherokee Indian. And I am half African-American. And someone tried to tell me that my Cherokee heritage and my Black heritage were somehow inferior to his Jewish heritage or my Jewish heritage. Because, he said “how far back can you trace your Cherokee genealogy? As Jews we can trace our genealogy back 3,000 years.” Who gives a fuck? Who are you? If all you identify as is a Jew, then by all means, have a nice time. But what kind of life is that. And what kind of person would I be–would I be at all–if I had not come into this world in such a manner. Would I appreciate the relationship I have with G-d or would I be, a jaded, self-loathing Jew like so many that I have met since my forays in the wide world of Jewery? But no one seems to care that this it the fact.
I am a Conservative Jew. And I am bisexual. This does not sit very well with Conservative Jews. There are aspects of the Reform movement that I find attractive, but that combined with their acceptance of the LGBT community is not enough to sway me. And though I am continually bombarded with ideas about what it should mean that I am bisexual, I think I have finally risen above all that. I will love who I love, and that is all there is to it.
So, back to the fact that my mother was not raised Jewish. Guess what? That means I was not raised Jewish. And there are traditions that I do not want to give up despite the fact that they are, according to the masses, against my religion. Christmas is one of them. This is not Christmas, as in celebrating the birth of Christ. This is the same Christmas that the rest of secular America celebrates along with the Sikhs, the Hindus and the Japanese. Despite the fact that the underlying premise of this holiday has nothing to do with the spiritual beliefs of these people, the fact of the matter is that in the United States, Christmas has become a commercial holiday. If you want a religious holiday let’s try Easter. In any case, I fully intend on putting up a tree every December for as long as I live. In my house, it may be covered with Chanukah ornaments and blue and white lights, but to the untrained eye it will be a Christmas tree. We will not celebrate Christmas Day, and there will be no Santa Claus, but it will still be a festive month nonetheless because this is how I was raised. I will shift the tradition, but I cannot stand to drop it altogether. I love it.
My plans for my life at this point include: finishing college, traveling Europe, learning more languages, possibly joining the Peace Corps, possibly going to Grad School in Seattle, getting a job somewhere doing something (author/anywhere, actor/New York, CIA linguistic analyst/D.C.), and eventually moving to Argentina to raise my six children speaking many languages, practicing many traditions, and claiming complex identities. I may do it with a wife, I may do it with a husband. Who I do that with is up to G-d. But my children will be Jewish, Black, Cherokee, German, Scottish, English, American and Argentine. And that will sit just fine with me.
