I’m marching because I know what it’s like to feel like a thorn.I'm not marching because I'm not gay; don't know what it's like to feel like a thorn; and have neither the desire nor the reason to stretch my own envelope/comfort zone.
I’m marching because I remember as a woman what it meant to be told I cannot, should not and must not. I remember breaking glass ceilings so that others would not have to cut their heads. I remember the fear, the surprise, the shock, the anger, the verbal and public dismissals of my personhood and my place in the Jewish community time and time again, and not so very long ago.
I’m marching to say that Jewish life doesn’t look just one way or like just one type of person. It’s not all mom, dad, 2.2 kids and a dog. We don’t all wear shtreimls, and we don’t all eat gefilte fish. We aren’t all white. We aren’t all married. We aren’t all successful, middle class businesspeople. We aren’t all heterosexual. The Jewish community is as complex as we human beings all are. I’m marching because the Jewish community should – and could – be as vibrant and diverse as this wonderfully diverse city.
I’m marching because it stretches my own envelope, my own comfort zone. And I’m marching because it reminds me that God’s image is mysterious and diverse, and doesn’t look only like me.
Also, because Pride caved in like a bunch of pussies to the anti-Zionists.
But, hey, that's just me.