As a queer woman, I'm invisible.
As a Jew, I'm invisible.
As a queer Jew, I'm invisible.
I spent years trying to "look" queer.
I cut off all my hair.
I refused to wear skirts or dresses.
I didn't shave.
I didn't wear makeup.
I hung out with (mostly) only queer people.
I was a leader in the queer organization on campus.
I volunteered with queer organizations after college.
I spent years trying to "look" Jewish.
I went to synagogue.
I was involved with the Jewish young adults organization.
I wore a חי necklace.
I volunteered with Jewish organizations after college.
I lived in Israel.
I'm an active queer Jew.
I go to synagogue.
I go to the queer bar.
I am involved with a Jewish study group.
I go to Shabbat dinners.
I openly discuss my queerness with friends and family.
I cover my hair.
But none of this matters.
I'm still invisible.
At the Creating Change conference, I covered my hair, but the only way people could identify me as Jewish was when I was standing next to Emet, who wore a kippah and tzitzit. When I'm out in public, I'm only passing as not-queer unless someone asks about my relationship.
I felt frustration during the conference because while I might be seen as queer, I'm not seen as Jewish, and when I'm seen as Jewish, I'm not necessarily seen as queer. The intersections of my identity are not evident, and instead, I feel invisible. I'm not sure how to NOT be invisible because I'm being true to myself and my identity, but I was frustrated. I am frustrated.
Even so, I'm me, and I can do the best I can to figure out how to be both, even if no one else sees me. I see myself.
