O pinion
KVETCH ’N’ KVELL
I’m a Queer Mizrahi Jew Who Left
the NY Orthodox World. This ‘Bubby’ Connect Palestinians to Terror
WITH MATT NOSANCHUK, president and co-founder of the
Took Me In
New York Jewish Agenda as an American Jewish community
BY JE’JAE CLEOPATRA DANIELS
IN ORTHODOX JUDAISM,
a child’s Hebrew name is given
within the first week. The rules
for our lives are predetermined,
assigned based on our gender
at birth. Since I was born, I
knew inside that I was created
differently from others — and I
was labeled a non-conforming
case who needed fixing.

Growing up on the Lower
East Side as a ’90s baby, I lived
in an era when the neigh-
borhood, a historic region in
New York City and American
Jewish history, was experi-
encing major changes and
gentrifying rapidly. The Jewish
presence was in decline, and
the immigrant melting pot for
which the neighborhood was
known was being whitewashed
in a boom of galleries, 5-star
clubs and high-rise buildings.

In the middle of all of it
was me: queer, hip, Mizrahi,
not easily fitting in. My family
and I were more accustomed to
bonding with the local Puerto
Rican and Black commu-
nities than with the wealthy
Ashkenazi Jews who seemed to
control the majority of Jewish
life in the temples of our area.

I always wrestled with my
identity and the alienation of
not fitting into the class, race
and “formal” gender expecta-
tions of the Orthodox world. It
took me many years to realize
that not fitting in a box was
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM actually an immense oppor-
tunity. It gave me the ability
to connect with a multitude
of under-recognized people —
like my adopted Bubby Roz.

Bubby Roz, or Ms. Roslyn
Engelmayer, was a lovely
balaboosta who became my
adopted grandmother when
my own grandparents on both
sides of the family passed
before I reached third grade. I
met Bubby Roz in first grade
when she held a festive Purim
party in her cozy apartment.

My mother took my brother
and me; I was dressed as a
tiny brown rabbit. I remember
arriving at the door and looking
up at a towering woman who
had so much warmth in her
eyes that her statuesque height
didn’t frighten me. Her first
words to me were, “I love you
as one of my own grandchil-
dren,” and since then we have
been inseparable.

Bubby Roz was disabled,
feminist, charismatic, a bit
of a hoarder of memorabilia
(but always clean) and had the
biggest heart. She had become
estranged from her family —
her husband walked out the
door without a civil divorce
and left her to raise three kids
alone. So Bubby and I always
knew what it was like to feel
excluded, for life to present a
challenging but unique path.

And we used our alienation as
a form of empathy to welcome
the stranger.

Well into her later years,
Bubby Roz would host free
meals every Shabbat for the
“misfit” Jews of the LES who
weren’t easily welcomed in their
neighbors’ homes, or didn’t
have a “male” to lead services.

Although I was demonized
by my fellow archaic tribe
members for being “different”
and not conforming to Jewish
values, I actually spent my
time appreciating the company
of my elders and wanted to
hold mature and philosoph-
ical conversations — thanks to
the relationship Bubby and I
developed. Living in a world that
repressed my inner authentic
self made NYC seem like a
conservative bubble. We could
peer at the secular world, but
couldn’t step into it. Decades
before I found queer-inclusive
spaces, my limited knowledge
of my orientation and gender
identity was based on the
queerphobia of my Modern
to ultra-Orthodox surround-
ings. Even in the closet, I was
always automatically labeled
without being given a chance
to define myself, and the
harmful labels and bullying
buried me in depression and
self-deprecation. My parents,
too, were policed for trying to
affirm my gender presentation,
receiving reprimands from
my day school. While they
defended my differences when
they could, they didn’t want to
acknowledge my coming out
in public.

In synagogue, rabbis would
preach about loving thy
neighbor, but then make queer-
phobic jokes during Shabbat
services — and racist ones in
Yiddish so the maintenance
workers of color wouldn’t hear.

I felt like the only one who
was “different” in a normal-
ized bigoted world — and at
the same time, I was confused
because I was trying to live by
Jewish values, which empha-
size welcoming the “other.”
I left Orthodoxy in 2011
and my former religious world
didn’t want to hear my side of
the story. Families who used to
consider me one of their own
now harassed me weekly on the
See Daniels, Page 28
JEWISH EXPONENT
liaison to former President Obama (“Condemning That Flawed
Amnesty International Report Doesn’t Bring Israel Any Closer
to Peace,” Feb. 17), who needs enemies?
Not once does Nosanchuk mention the word terrorism as
directed by the Palestinians toward Jews nor Hamas and the
Palestinian Authority’s goal of a “Palestine from sea to sea.”
Hasn’t there been enough proof that no matter how many
concessions Israel makes for peace, the response from the other
side has been bombs, missiles, rockets, tunnels, stabbings and
cars driven into bus shelters.

If I’ve missed any other terrorist acts, I apologize to thousands
of Israelis who have been victims of Palestinian terror attacks.

Zachary Margolies | Philadelphia
Impersonator Not the Same as Interpreter
Dean Malissa is not an impersonator of George Washington
(“Mikveh Israel to Celebrate Presidents’ Day,” Feb. 17). That
description is demeaning.

Malissa is a gifted actor who is a renowned Washington scholar.

He is an historic interpreter. He brings a vast knowledge of George
Washington, in all of Washington’s roles, to his audiences, which
include presidents of the United States, foreign dignitaries, Congress,
governors and Purple Heart recipients. He has presided over several
naturalization ceremonies for new United States citizens.

For years, he has been America’s official historic portrayer of
Washington, working under the auspices of Washington’s home
— Mount Vernon. He serves now as the distinguished George
Washington emeritus.

Words are important, and the Exponent should choose them
with care.

Phyllis Malissa Finkelstein | Delray Beach, Florida
Reminiscing About Rabbi Maslin
I met the late Rabbi Simeon Maslin (“Reform Leader, KI Rabbi
Simeon Maslin Dies at 90,” Feb. 10) when he arrived at The
Monroe Temple of Liberal Judaism. He and I were close in age,
and I later wrote a history of our congregation from which this
excerpt came. I thought it might add to the fond memories you
in Philadelphia have of Rabbi Maslin, or “Shim” as I and other
friends called him.

“Rabbi Simeon Maslin (1957-1961) came to us in the full
bloom of youth, with little prior experience, a fine singing voice,
a self-possession rarely found in a 26 year old, and a wit and
wisdom he used to weld our congregation into a more unified
and cohesive Rabbis institution for learning and worship.” l
Dr. Joseph Birnbaum | Toms River, New Jersey
STATEMENT FROM THE PUBLISHER
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published. FEBRUARY 24, 2022
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