Uncategorized
Embracing their place on ‘the fringes,’ queer artists reimagine Jewish ritual garments for all bodies
(JTA) — Binya Kóatz remembers the first time she saw a woman wearing tzitzit. While attending Friday night services at a Jewish Renewal synagogue in Berkeley, she noticed the long ritual fringes worn by some observant Jews — historically men — dangling below a friend’s short shorts.
“That was the first time I really realized how feminine just having tassels dangling off you can look and be,” recalled Kóatz, an artist and activist based in the Bay Area. “That is both deeply reverent and irreverent all at once, and there’s a deep holiness of what’s happening here.”
Since that moment about seven years ago, Kóatz has been inspired to wear tzitzit every day. But she has been less inspired by the offerings available in online and brick-and-mortar Judaica shops, where the fringes are typically attached to shapeless white tunics meant to be worn under men’s clothing.
So in 2022, when she was asked to test new prototypes for the Tzitzit Project, an art initiative to create tzitzit and their associated garment for a variety of bodies, genders and religious denominations, Kóatz jumped at the chance. The project’s first products went on sale last month.
“This is a beautiful example of queers making stuff for ourselves,” Kóatz said. “I think it’s amazing that queers are making halachically sound garments that are also ones that we want to wear and that align with our culture and style and vibrancy.”
Jewish law, or halacha, requires that people who wear four-cornered garments — say, a tunic worn by an ancient shepherd — must attach fringes to each corner. The commandment is biblical: “Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages” (Numbers 15:37-41) When garments that lack corners came into fashion, many Jews responded by using tzitzit only when wearing a tallit, or prayer shawl, which has four corners.
But more observant Jews adopted the practice of wearing an additional four-cornered garment for the sole purpose of fulfilling the commandment to tie fringes to one’s clothes. Called a tallit katan, or small prayer shawl, the garment is designed to be worn under one’s clothes and can be purchased at Judaica stores or online for less than $15. The fringes represent the 613 commandments of the Torah, and it is customary to hold them and kiss them at certain points while reciting the Shema prayer.
“They just remind me of my obligations, my mitzvot, and my inherent holiness,” Kóatz said. “That’s the point, you see your tzitzit and you remember everything that it means — all the obligations and beauty of being a Jew in this world.”
The California-based artists behind the Tzitzit Project had a hunch that the ritual garment could appeal to a more diverse set of observant Jews than the Orthodox men to whom the mass-produced options are marketed. Julie Weitz and Jill Spector had previously collaborated on the costumes for Weitz’s 2019 “My Golem” performance art project that uses the mythical Jewish creature to explore contemporary issues. In one installment of the project focused on nature, “Prayer for Burnt Forests,” Weitz’s character ties a tallit katan around a fallen tree and wraps the tzitzit around its branches.
“I was so moved by how that garment transformed my performance,” Weitz said, adding that she wanted to find more ways to incorporate the garment into her life.
The Tzitzit Project joins other initiatives meant to explore and expand the use of tzitzit. A 2020 podcast called Fringes featured interviews with a dozen trans and gender non-conforming Jews about their experiences with Jewish ritual garments. (Kóatz was a guest.) Meanwhile, an online store, Netzitzot, has since 2014 sold tzitzit designed for women’s bodies, made from modified H&M undershirts.
The Tzitzit Project goes further and sells complete garments that take into account the feedback of testers including Kóatz — in three colors and two lengths, full and cropped, as well as other customization options related to a wearer’s style and religious practices. (The garments cost $100, but a sliding scale for people with financial constraints can bring the price as far down as $36.)
Spector and Weitz found that the trial users were especially excited by the idea that the tzitzit could be available in bright colors, and loved how soft the fabric felt on their bodies, compared to how itchy and ill-fitting they found traditional ones to be. They also liked that each garment could be worn under other clothing or as a more daring top on its own.
To Weitz, those attributes are essential to her goal of “queering” tzitzit.
“Queering something also has to do with an embrace of how you wear things and how you move your body in space and being proud of that and not carrying any shame around that,” she said. “And I think that that stylization is really distinct. All those gender-conventional tzitzit for men — they’re not about style, they’re not about reimagining how you can move your body.”
Artist Julie Weitz ties the knots of the tzitzit, fringes attached to the corners of a prayer shawl or the everyday garment known as a “tallit katan.” (Courtesy of Tzitzit Project)
For Chelsea Mandell, a rabbinical student at the Academy of Jewish Religion in Los Angeles who is nonbinary, the Tzitzit Project is creating Jewish ritual objects of great power.
“It deepens the meaning and it just feels more radically spiritual to me, when it’s handmade by somebody I’ve met, aimed for somebody like me,” said Mandell, who was a product tester.
Whether the garments meet the requirements of Jewish law is a separate issue. Traditional interpretations of the law hold that the string must have been made specifically for tzitzit, for example — but it’s not clear on the project’s website whether the string it uses was sourced that way. (The project’s Instagram page indicates that the wool is spun by a Jewish fiber artist who is also the brother of the alt-rocker Beck.)
“It is not obvious from their website which options are halachically valid and which options are not,” said Avigayil Halpern, a rabbinical student who began wearing tzitzit and tefillin at her Modern Orthodox high school in 2013 when she was 16 and now is seen as a leader in the movement to widen their use.
“And I think it’s important that queer people in particular have as much access to knowledge about Torah and mitzvot as they’re embracing mitzvot.”
Weitz explained that there are multiple options for the strings — Tencel, cotton or hand-spun wool — depending on what customers prefer, for their comfort and for their observance preferences.
“It comes down to interpretation,” she said. “For some, tzitzit tied with string not made for the purpose of tying, but with the prayer said, is kosher enough. For others, the wool spun for the purpose of tying is important.”
Despite her concerns about its handling of Jewish law, Halpern said she saw the appeal of the Tzitzit Project, with which she has not been involved.
“For me and for a lot of other queer people, wearing something that is typically associated with Jewish masculinity — it has a gender element,” explained Halpern, a fourth-year student at Hadar, the egalitarian yeshiva in New York.
“If you take it out of the Jewish framework, there is something very femme and glamorous and kind of fun in the ways that dressing up and wearing things that are twirly is just really joyful for a lot of people,” she said.
Rachel Schwartz first became drawn to tzitzit while studying at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem in 2018. There, young men who were engaging more intensively with Jewish law and tradition than they had in the past began to adopt the garments, and Schwartz found herself wondering why she had embraced egalitarian religious practices in all ways but this one.
“One night, I took one of my tank tops and I cut it up halfway to make the square that it needed. I found some cool bandanas at a store and I sewed on corners,” Schwartz recalled. “And I bought the tzitzit at one of those shops on Ben Yehuda and I just did it and it was awesome.”
Rachel Schwartz stands in front of a piece of graffiti that plays on the commandment to wear tzitzit, written in the Hebrew feminine. (Courtesy of Rachel Schwartz)
Schwartz’s experience encapsulates both the promise and the potential peril of donning tzitzit for people from groups that historically have not worn the fringes. Other women at the Conservative Yeshiva were so interested in her tzitzit that she ran a workshop where she taught them how to make the undergarment. But she drew so many critical comments from men on the streets of Jerusalem that she ultimately gave up wearing tzitzit publicly.
“I couldn’t just keep on walking around like that anymore. I was tired of the comments,” Schwartz said. “I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
Rachel Davidson, a Reconstructionist rabbi working as a chaplain in health care in Ohio, started consistently wearing a tallit katan in her mid-20s. Like Kóatz, she ordered her first one from Netzitzot.
“I would love to see a world where tallitot katanot that are shaped for non cis-male bodies are freely available and are affordable,” Davidson said. “I just think it’s such a beautiful mitzvah. I would love it if more people engaged with it.”
Kóatz believes that’s not only possible but natural. As a trans woman, she said she is drawn to tzitzit in part because of the way they bring Jewish tradition into contact with contemporary ideas about gender.
“Queers are always called ‘fringe,’” she said. “And here you have a garment which is literally like ‘kiss the fringes.’ The fringes are holy.”
—
The post Embracing their place on ‘the fringes,’ queer artists reimagine Jewish ritual garments for all bodies appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Here’s exactly why it’s dangerous to compare ICE to Nazis
It may feel morally clarifying to compare ICE to Nazis in moments of outrage. But those comparisons are also historically inaccurate, and politically counterproductive.
Nazism remains historically singular, both because of its eliminationist antisemitism and its state-driven project of industrial genocide. No other political movement has so entirely organized its worldview around the idea that a specific people constitutes a cosmic threat. The Nazis were driven by the belief that the mere existence of Jews endangered humanity, and that Jews therefore had to be physically annihilated everywhere.
A clear understanding of this truth has been absent amid renewed controversy over federal immigration enforcement and protests in Minneapolis. Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz compared children hiding in fear from ICE raids to Anne Frank hiding in Amsterdam, in terror of capture by Nazi Germany. Former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich compared ICE operations under President Donald Trump’s administration to the tactics of Hitler’s Brownshirts. They have been joined by many others, including in this publication.
Comparison is a central tool of historical and political analysis, and Nazism can and should be compared to other ideologies. But flattening the particular contours of Nazism strips it of its distinctive genocidal logic, and risks pushing us to take the wrong messages from its horrors.
When Nazism becomes a general synonym for “bad politics,” the Holocaust becomes a moral prop rather than a historically specific catastrophe. This is especially painful for Jews, but it also distorts the memory of the regime’s many other victims: Roma and Sinti, people with disabilities, prisoners of war, queer people and political dissidents, among others.
Part of what drives these comparisons is cultural familiarity. The Holocaust and the Gestapo are widely understood shorthand for the worst imaginable abuses of state power. Invoking Nazi metaphors often says more about present anxieties — foremost among them the fear that the United States may be sliding toward authoritarianism — than about historical reality.
Those anxieties are profound, and legitimate, especially when it comes to the concerns about injustice toward immigrants. Federal immigration enforcement has long prompted alarm about the abuse of civil liberties, including concerns about racial profiling, excessive force, family separation and opaque chains of accountability.
These problems span multiple U.S. administrations, showing that vigilance and legal challenge are always necessary. Calling them “Gestapo tactics,” however, as some national leaders have, obscures rather than clarifies the issue.
It conflates a flawed system operating within a still-robust framework of legal challenges and public scrutiny with a secret police apparatus designed for totalitarian control and genocide. For instance, in Minnesota, a federal judge threatened to hold the acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement in contempt for repeatedly defying court orders requiring bond hearings, prompting the agency to release a detainee. The fact that judges can and do continue to compel compliance, even amid sharp disputes over enforcement, shows that the U.S. remains a democracy rather than a secret police state.
There are countries today in which opposition parties are banned, protest is routinely criminalized, courts are fully captured by the regime, and independent media are systematically dismantled — such as Russia, Iran, or Venezuela. In those contexts, the language of secret police, one-party rule, and total state control describes concrete institutional realities.
It does not do so here. Yes, the U.S., like many countries today, is experiencing measurable democratic backsliding. But it remains far from an authoritarian regime. Much of the press remains free, despite significant pressure from the White House as well as structural pressures from corporate ownership, and continues to report extensively on immigration enforcement controversies. Independent courts have ruled against unlawful revocations of immigration protections. Protests in places like Minneapolis have mobilized large numbers of participants and, rather than being criminalized, are showing efficacy in getting the administration to change its course.
Learning from the Holocaust does not require declaring that everything is Nazism. Collapsing the distinction between democratic backsliding and full-fledged authoritarianism weakens our ability to diagnose what kind of political danger we are actually confronting. It might even weaken resistance: Mistaking slow erosion for a finished catastrophe can breed despair instead of motivating strategic action.
Nazi parallels also corrode political discourse itself. If ICE is the Gestapo, and Trump is Hitler, then Republican voters become Nazis by implication. This forecloses the possibility of democratic repair.
While far-right extremist currents undeniably exist within the MAGA movement, it is also a broad political camp that includes voters motivated by a variety of factors, including economic anxiety, distrust of elites and religious identity. Collapsing all of this into “Nazism” is analytically lazy and politically disastrous.
All that on top of the risk of historical whitewashing that comes with this rhetoric. If every abuse is Nazism, then nothing is Nazism, and the lessons of the Holocaust — foremost among them the necessity of vigorously combatting antisemitism in our society — are lost.
Of course, supporters of Trump also engage in similar rhetoric, calling their own opponents Nazis. Ending this cycle of mutual Nazi-labeling is essential if the country hopes to move forward. Historical memory is a tool, not a weapon. We can confront injustice without exaggeration. And the best way to defend democracy is not to demonize our opponents, but rather to speak clearly, act responsibly, and work to build a political culture that can actually heal.
The post Here’s exactly why it’s dangerous to compare ICE to Nazis appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Italian rapper Ghali’s planned Winter Olympics set draws backlash over his Gaza advocacy
(JTA) — Italian rapper Ghali’s slated performance at the opening ceremony for this year’s Winter Olympics in Milan has drawn criticism from Italian leaders over his past activism against Israel.
Ghali Amdouni, a prominent Milan-born rapper of Tunisian parents, will be joined by a host of performers including Andrea Bocelli and Mariah Carey during the opening ceremony on Feb. 6. This year, nine Israelis will compete, including the national bobsled team for the first time.
The selection of Ghali drew criticism from members of Italy’s right-wing League party.
“It is truly incredible to find a hater of Israel and the centre-right, already the protagonist of embarrassing and vulgar scenes, at the opening ceremony,” a source from the party told the Italian outlet La Presse. “Italy and the games deserve an artist, not a pro-Pal fanatic.”
In early 2024, Ghali drew criticism from Italian Jewish leaders and Israel’s former ambassador to Italy, Alon Bar, after he called to “stop genocide” during his performance at the Sanremo Italian song festival. The spat later spurred protests outside the office of the Italian public broadcaster RAI.
On X, the rapper has also criticized other artists for not using their platforms for pro-Palestinian activism and appeared to refer to the war in Gaza as a “new Holocaust.”
Ghali’s selection comes as Italy has become an epicenter of pro-Palestinian activism that has been sustained even as such activism has receded in other places. In October, over 2 million Italians took part in a one-day general strike in support of Palestinians and the Global Sumud Flotilla. The previous month, a separate general strike was organized in response to call from the country’s unions to “denounce the genocide in Gaza.”
According to a study of global antisemitism published in April by Tel Aviv University, Italy was one of two countries that saw a spike in antisemitic incidents from 2023 to 2024. A September survey from the pollster SWG found that roughly 15% of Italians believe that physical attacks on Jewish people are “entirely or fairly justifiable.”
Italian Sports Minister Andrea Abodi said he does not believe Ghali will make a political statement on stage.
“It doesn’t embarrass me at all to disagree with Ghali’s views and the messages he sent,” said Abodi, according to the Italian outlet La Repubblica. “But I believe that a country should be able to withstand the impact of an artist expressing an opinion that we don’t share. And that opinion will not, in any case, be expressed on that stage.”
Noemi Di Segni, the president of the Union of the Italian Jewish Community, told Italian media that she was hopeful Ghali would receive instructions ahead of his performance.
“It is clear that I hope Ghali has received instructions or guidelines on the ‘role’ he is expected to play. So I hope he will understand what he needs to do in that context and at that moment,” Di Segni told the Italian outlet La Milano. “I am confident that he will understand what he is called upon to do in that context and at that moment.”
The post Italian rapper Ghali’s planned Winter Olympics set draws backlash over his Gaza advocacy appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
After Alex Pretti killing in Minneapolis, Jewish gun owners confront Second Amendment tensions
(JTA) — Roberta Tarnove was horrified last week when she learned that a man protesting ICE was shot and killed in Minneapolis. And it wasn’t just because someone was dead.
The 65-year-old Jewish resident of Los Angeles was also distressed that federal officials said the agents were justified in shooting Alex Pretti because they believed he was armed. Pretti, 37, was a licensed gun owner in a state where carrying a gun openly is legal.
“I’m very sad. He certainly had every right to carry a gun,” Tarnove said.
The situation hit home for Tarnove because she, too, owns guns and has a permit allowing her to carry concealed firearms.
“As a Jewish person whose Sunday school teachers were mostly Holocaust survivors, there was something about Donald Trump’s presidential run that just hit me hard,” she said. “The dog whistles and things just sounded alarm bells in my head, and so I think I need to get a gun, not that I can overthrow the government, but just for personal protection.”
Since getting her first gun in 2015, Tarnove has been part of a Southern California Jewish gun club, Bullets & Bagels.
There was no discussion of Pretti’s killing at a Bullets & Bagels event featuring the Los Angeles district attorney on Sunday, according to the club’s founder, Fred Kogen. He said he could not comment on the specifics of the shooting.
“What happened there was that this gentleman lost his life, that’s all I know, to be honest, and that, interestingly enough, has not been a discussion within the community of Jewish shooters that I’m a part of,” Kogen said.
Tarnove wasn’t there on Sunday. But she said she wasn’t surprised by Kogen’s report.
“The reaction from the overruling gun community — and apparently the government — is, well, if you bring a gun to protest, you’re going to get shot,” Tarnove said. “So it’s Second Amendment for me, but not for thee, which is one of the things about the gun culture I really hate.”
Pretti’s killing has spurred sharp debate over whether the Trump administration’s response to armed protesters may be at odds with Second Amendment protections traditionally cherished by conservatives.
The debate is also taking place among American Jews. While American Jews have historically opposed gun ownership, Oct. 7 and the ensuing rise in antisemitism across the country has spurred many to take up arms for the first time. Now, Jewish gun owners are confronting a tension that has emerged between their right to bear arms and the federal government’s response to armed civilians.
“My personal opinion is that he was executed,” said J.N., a 59-year-old Jewish gun owner in the Washington, D.C., suburbs who requested anonymity to protect his employment. “I’ve watched the video like everybody else, his hand never went anywhere near his gun. It was handled horrifically.”
On the other hand, Bruce Cohen, a lifelong Jewish gun owner in Arizona who hosts the Facebook group Jews for the Preservation of Firearms Ownership, said he believed Pretti was “looking for trouble.”
“I don’t know if I can fault the law enforcement officer,” Cohen said. “As a libertarian, I want very, very strict limits on police powers, I do not want police to abuse or mistreat or mislead citizens or non-citizens, for that matter, but I can see how that could happen, and if that person was more careful and more friendly and exercised his freedom of speech and right to protest in a more appropriate manner then he could be protesting today.”
In the wake of Pretti’s killing, several Trump administration officials said his gun possession instigated the shooting. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem claimed Pretti “attacked” officers and was “brandishing” a gun, though a preliminary report completed on Tuesday by Customs and Border Protection found he did not brandish a weapon during the encounter.
On Tuesday, President Donald Trump himself said, “You can’t have guns. You can’t walk in with guns,” in response to a question about the killing from PBS.
“My assessment is the government is lying,” said J.N. “I don’t know why he carried it, but he’s entitled to carry it, he had a concealed carry permit. The Second Amendment says that you’re allowed to carry a gun, so I can’t fathom why the government, supposedly a Republican government, would say that.”
In a post on X, the National Rifle Association took aim at the rhetoric from the federal government, writing, “Responsible public voices should be awaiting a full investigation, not making generalizations and demonizing law-abiding citizens.”
A national Jewish gun club, Lox & Loaded, echoed that sentiment.
“Lox & Loaded stands firmly behind the absolute right to bear and conceal arms in any lawful setting,” said COO Gayle Pearlstein. “The pending investigation and resulting determination of the incident involving Mr. Pretti and federal law enforcement should in no way interfere with or call into question this longstanding personal right.”
Jordan Levine, the Jewish founder of the online gun advocacy group A Better Way 2A, said he believed the shooting of Pretti “sets a precedent, because it calls into question if somebody can be murdered for simply carrying a gun.”
But Levine stipulated that he was not concerned “as of right now” about losing Second Amendment rights.
“The Trump administration, thankfully, is still a bit removed from our court systems, and we’ve seen time and time again the court’s ruling in favor of Second Amendment liberties,” Levine continued.
Cohen said he would have handled the situation differently in Pretti’s shoes.
“If I was in his situation with his motivations, I would have introduced myself to the cops. I would have shaken hands with the cops, I would have said, hey, I disagree with what you’re doing, but thank you for being professional,” said Cohen.
But others within the JPFO Facebook group were quick to decry the federal government’s rhetoric.
“I’m not going to shut up and wait when agents of an authoritarian government are violating the rights of and killing citizens,” wrote one JPFO member. “The Declaration of Independence gives us the right to fight tyranny.”
J.N., who is also a member of the JPFO group, said, “As a Jewish person, and as an American, it sickens me.”
In the wake of Pretti’s killing, many critics have likened ICE’s tactics in Minneapolis to the Gestapo in Nazi Germany. While both Trump administration officials and some Jewish voices have called such comparisons inappropriate, for J.N., the similarities rang true.
“I’m not going to call them Nazis, because nobody’s being sent to the showers and burned en masse, OK, I get the difference, but I can tell you that I feel like they are using Gestapo techniques,” J.N. said.
Cohen said the comparison was a “standard left-wing package.”
“They train people to say that stuff, and it’s hypocritical and insincere because they don’t actually believe what they’re saying,” said Cohen. “I don’t see that at all, because we’re not, you know, the Jews in Germany. We’re not illegal aliens, we’re not on welfare, we’re not doing criminal things, we’re not stealing financially.”
For Tarnove, the federal government’s rhetoric around Pretti’s gun ownership had raised alarm bells for potential restrictions against gun ownership for certain groups.
“We aren’t past the point of no return, but we are getting so darn close, and I wish that more Jews would recognize that,” said Tarnove. “When the government can go after one group of people, then they can go after any group of people, and you’re not safe.”
The post After Alex Pretti killing in Minneapolis, Jewish gun owners confront Second Amendment tensions appeared first on The Forward.