In the face of hate, I’m embracing my gay Jewish identity

By chance, I came across the recent stencilling of white supremacist graffiti in parallel attacks in Elsternwick – a suburb home to many Jews – and on two gay venues in Abbotsford, the Laird Hotel and Eagle Leather.

It was the same weekend the iconic East Melbourne Synagogue and Israeli restaurant Miznon were targeted.

As significant as the East Melbourne shule is to the Jewish community, the Laird Hotel is as sacred to the gay community. It's a safe home for many people who are judged and discriminated against because of their identity.

The simultaneous targeting of gay and Jewish precincts sent a shudder down my spine, reminiscent of the 1999 London Nail Bombings, where different cultural communities were targeted by hate merchants in close succession.

Whether it’s a neo-Nazi motif or the offensive word “fag”, the pain this graffiti evoked was visceral, a public humiliation and othering that brought reminders of those forced to wear yellow stars and pink triangles.

But to properly understand how and why this impacted me so much, I need to go back in time.

It was after a Shabbat dinner at my family house, almost 30 years ago, that the trajectory of my life changed irrevocably. 

After 16 years of building up the necessary courage, and two days of working out how to do it, I told my parents I was gay. I was 26, single and living in a share-house in Elsternwick with two frum guys.

I had connected with a nascent support group called Aleph Melbourne and discovered a hidden world of gay Jewish men, some of whom would become lifelong friends.

Commercial Road in South Yarra was Melbourne’s gay Diagon Alley. Previously a place that my closeted self was terrified of being anywhere near, I now breathed in the life that existed in that world. Gay cafes and restaurants, a gay health clinic, bookshop, nightclub, and wall-to-wall gay men. Such was the late 1990s.

The world was a different place then, in many ways. It wasn't easy to be gay or lesbian in the Jewish community. There were safe pockets and loyal advocates, but for the most part, Melbourne’s Jewish community hadn’t been confronted by overt homosexual activism.

But Aleph Melbourne and the Jewish Lesbian Group of Victoria put queer front and centre. Being out and proud, loud and visible, we drove an agenda that was hard to ignore. We demanded inclusion and acceptance, refusing to remain silent.

One of the most spectacular and explosive demonstrations of this fight was the (singular) time Aleph Melbourne applied for – and failed – to become a constituent of the Jewish Community Council in 1999. That caused quite a stir!

Bit by bit, we eroded the walls of intolerance within the mainstream Jewish community. Nothing changed overnight, but momentum grew, and after much sweat, tears and sheer persistence, people started listening.

Homosexuality was eventually decriminalised across Australia; the long journey to achieving marriage equality was beginning; HIV was no longer a death sentence; and Jewish community organisations started welcoming gays and lesbians. Before long, that expanded to include trans, bisexual and gender diverse people. It was incremental, and limited, but the dam wall was breaking.

Now in 2025, we find key Jewish organisations calling out attacks on LGBTQ+ people and advocating for legislative reform to include protections on the grounds of sexual orientation and gender identity. ECAJ Co-CEO Alex Ryvchin marched alongside Dayenu in Sydney's Mardi Gras, while JCCV President Philip Zajac and leaders from Zionism Victoria joined Jews of Pride in Melbourne's Midsumma Pride March.

It may seem blasé for this to happen now, but it hasn’t been without struggle, a constant fight against outdated attitudes. But with generational change, a more connected world and courageous activists, the Jewish community has embraced the notion that it can no longer turn its back on us.

Even in the world of ultra-Orthodoxy, there are WhatsApp networks where Rabbis seek confidential support and a safe place for community members who are “you know…”. Rabbi Mike Moskowitz of NYC showed me you can simultaneously be ultra-Orthodox and an outspoken advocate for the rights of transgender and queer people, and that being Jewish and LGBTQ+ are totally compatible, without compromise.

It is my life goal to ensure that Jewish children do not have to fear being different. If they want to love a person of the same gender, or live as their authentic gender identity, they can do so – and still be Jewish.

I want to show them that they can be part of a community that embraces their same-sex and gender diverse relationships, supports them to build Jewish families and ensures they remain part of the Jewish community.

My Jewish identity and how I practice being Jewish has evolved over the years, but the importance of community, whether it is Jewish, LGBTQ+ or somewhere in between, has remained the same.

Exposing and erasing anti-LGBTQ+ hate, antisemitism and other forms of intolerance and bigotry is exhausting and far from enjoyable, but doing so is vital to keep our world safe.

Antisemitism and homophobia are loyal bedfellows, but I am optimistic about our future. Too many people feel that the world hates Jews and gays. I don’t see it that way. I believe there are good people everywhere who don’t collectively hate us, despite how it feels. We must extend a hand of love and compassion, and in return we will find those who wish to join us in the same pursuit.

I would like to see those targeted by hate – whether the graffiti or violence is aimed at Jews, gays, or any other group – collectively say we’ve had enough and work together to stamp it out. 

Because, ultimately, we are all human and we are all of equal worth.