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‘Where do I stand?’ Queer Modern Orthodox teens navigate a changing world
This article was produced as part of JTA’s Teen Journalism Fellowship, a program that works with Jewish teens around the world to report on issues that affect their lives.
(JTA) — Until recently, Jacob Feldon considered Yeshiva University a serious candidate for his college education. As a senior at a Utah high school who has embraced Modern Orthodoxy and harbors dreams of potentially becoming a rabbi, he said he was drawn to “the idea of going to school in an observant community where I can study Torah and Talmud with some of the smartest people doing such a thing today.”
But Feldon is also bisexual and serves as a Jewish youth ambassador for Beloved Arise, a national interfaith support organization for queer youth. So Feldon took notice when Yeshiva University declined to officially recognize a Pride Alliance group on campus, and then pressed its case to the U.S. Supreme Court when mandated to do so.
“As a queer man I can’t see going into that environment right now with everything happening,” Feldon told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “I’m getting a pretty clear message that I won’t be welcomed, authentically welcome.”
Feldon is not the only high school student who identifies as Modern Orthodox to have complicated feelings about Yeshiva University at the moment. As the main Modern Orthodox university, the school blends secular and religious instruction and values. Its attempt to navigate a balance between being welcoming and inclusive and fighting for the right to control LGBTQ students’ official expression on campus has made national headlines — and caused some Modern Orthodox teens to question whether they would feel comfortable attending.
For LGBTQ teens, the lawsuit and other controversies around gender and sexuality in Modern Orthodoxy have created “a little hopelessness,” said Rachael Fried, executive director of the support nonprofit Jewish Queer Youth.
Fried described the mindset of Modern Orthodox LGBTQ adolescents as, “I’m trying to live an Orthodox life. I’m trying to build my future as a queer Orthodox person, and this is what the main, flagship institution of Modern Orthodoxy thinks about me. Then where is my future and what’s the hope for me and what are my dreams?”
For queer teens, the Y.U. saga is just one high-profile touchpoint in an ongoing grappling with their place within Modern Orthodoxy. Modern Orthodox communities range widely in many ways depending on their history, geography and leadership, meaning that some queer Orthodox teens say they have found acceptance and support while others say they’ve had more challenging experiences.
Rachael Fried is the executive director of the support nonprofit Jewish Queer Youth. (Courtesy JQY)
Often teens say they experience both. Like many of the queer teens interviewed for this article, Rivka Schafer and their parents first thought it best to keep their queer identity private due to the repercussions they feared with being LGBTQ in a Modern Orthodox community. When they did come out in middle school, Schafer said they received mixed reactions in their Jewish day school.
“The kids had a lot of stigma and the administration did too, but they tried to be really accepting and really supportive which was also really, really beautiful,” Schafer told JTA.
“Currently I identify as Modern Orthodox because Judaism is a really important part of my identity and I find Judaism to be really meaningful to me,” said Schafer, who is nonbinary, from their home in Teaneck, New Jersey. “So although I struggled a lot with the acceptance in the Jewish community, and stigma within the Orthodox community, I really ultimately believe it is and should be a strong part of who I am.”
But while Schafer has remained committed to their religious identity, Fried, of Jewish Queer Youth, said the Pride Alliance lawsuit and other LGBTQ-related controversies sometimes “pushes people away from Orthodoxy in a really unfortunate way.”
This is what happened to Mattie Schaffer. “I would describe it as [having] a religious identity crisis,” said Schaffer, a student at Lev Miriam Learning Studio in Passaic, New Jersey who uses he/they pronouns and identifies as queer. Schaffer, 16, said their neighborhood is a more right-wing Modern Orthodox community, colloquially called yeshivish, though his family is not.
“A part of all the alienation and isolation comes from a feeling of not having a place anywhere,” Schaffer said. “And as much as you try to conform, there just isn’t really a place for you to fit unless you want to be sticking out or be bending yourself in half.”
Modern Orthodox queer teens’ feeling “of not having a place” can be quite literal, particularly for those teens that are non-binary or transgender, said Schafer, the teen from Teaneck.
Schafer finds their nonbinary identity sometimes at odds with even the most basic rules of the Hebrew language, which assigns a gender to nearly all words, and of their synagogue. “Where do I stand? On the mechitza?” they asked, referring to the divider separating men and women in Orthodox synagogues.
The question of LGBTQ individuals in gender-separated prayer spaces recently reared up at Y.U., when one of its leading rabbis decreed that a transgender woman could not pray in either the women’s or men’s section of her university-affiliated synagogue.
But while recent months have been abundant in controversy, the last decade has shown tremendous progress for LGBTQ Modern Orthodox teens, according to multiple people in and around the community.
Rabbi Steve Greenberg, who was ordained by Yeshiva University before coming out as gay in 1999, heads the Orthodox queer advocacy group Eshel. His organization surveyed approximately 240 Orthodox synagogues and rabbis and found that 74% of interviewees were “high welcoming,” meaning that “inclusion is explicit, principled and broadly acknowledged” and queer families’ life cycle events other than marriage are celebrated. Another 22% offered “moderate welcome,” while 4% were “low welcoming/inattentive.”
Nadiv Schorer, right, married Ariel Meiri in 2020 with Orthodox rabbi Avram Mlotek officiating. (David Perlman Photography)
Approximately 10 rabbis said they were willing to perform same-sex marriages, according to Eshel’s research.
“They do their best to make it possible for LGBTQ folks to belong to Orthodox environments,” said Greenberg. “And it’s grown.”
The head of school at North Shore Hebrew Academy on Long Island, Rabbi Jeffery Kobrin, said he believed that growing conversations about LGBTQ issues in Orthodox communities has had benefits.
“I think it’s easier to be a queer teen now than it was in 2012, just because it’s more out there,” Kobrin said. “People talk about it more, people try to be more accepting of it, and people, community-wise, seem to less feel this contradiction between Orthodoxy and alternative lifestyles.”
Some teens say they have witnessed change in just the last couple of years. Benjamin Small, a gay teen who graduated from SAR High School last year and now attends Yeshivat Ma’ale Gilboa in Israel, said his rabbi, Chaim Poupko, of Congregation Avahath Torah in Englewood, New Jersey, has advocated for queer members of the Orthodox community in his synagogue.
“That would be unheard of two or three years ago,” Small said.
Few Modern Orthodox schools in the New York area have an LGBTQ support club. But Fried, JQY’s executive director, said students are learning how to organize and build community independently, in the absence of recognition from their schools and synagogues.
“That comes with people choosing themselves, feeling empowered to build their own communities and to step-up and create the groups that others are not creating for them,” she said.
Before the Y.U. court case, “the messaging that I heard from the Modern Orthodox community was ‘your identity is not wrong, and we want to support our queer members of the community,’” said Fried, whose organization gave grants to student groups affected by the Y.U. case.
But now, she said, the message that queer Modern Orthodox teens are hearing has shifted.
“Actually, your queer identity is what is problematic. It’s not just the sentence in the Torah that is about behavior, but actually your identity,” she characterized Modern Orthodox institutions as saying. “You want to gather and build community that is based around identity and that, in and of itself, is problematic, and it’s inherently a threat.”
For its part, Yeshiva University has tried to thread a narrow needle.
A person walks by the Wilf Campus of Yeshiva University in New York City, Aug. 30, 2022. (Spencer Platt/Getty Images)
“We love all of our students including those who identify as LGBTQ,” Y.U. said in a FAQ after it launched a school-sanctioned LGBTQ club. “Through our deep personal relationships and conversations with them, we have felt their struggles to fit into an orthodox world that could appear to them as not having a place for them.” (The YU Pride Alliance called the new club “a feeble attempt” at compromise and said they were not involved in its formation.)
There was no consensus among teens who spoke to JTA about how much the Y.U. saga would affect inclusion in other spaces. It’s also unclear the degree to which queer Modern Orthodox teens and their allies are incorporating the situation in their decision-making about college.
Y.U. declined to share student enrollment and admissions data, saying that the university does not generally release that information. But according to a recent Y.U. advertisement, last fall the school had “the largest incoming undergraduate class in over 20 years.”
Still, the school’s lawsuit and rhetoric has been a turnoff for 19-year-old Penny Laser, a queer student at a secular college who had envisioned possibly pursuing graduate studies in Talmud at Y.U. and grew up in a non-Orthodox household. (Laser asked to be identified using a pseudonym because she is seeking a giyur lechumra, a conversion for Jewish individuals to remove any doubt of their Orthodox Jewish legal status, and feared the Rabbinical Council of America would not grant her one if she was quoted in this article.)
“I’m not sure how I can trust or engage with Y.U. in the future,” said Laser. “A. I don’t know if it’s going to be a safe place for me, and B. I don’t want to align myself with an institution that has values like this.”
Schafer, from Teaneck, and Schaffer, from Passaic, are both not considering Y.U.
And the consequences of the Y.U. litigation goes beyond influencing the decisions of individual students, according to Fried.
“What the Y.U. situation is doing right now is forcing this conversation into the spotlight,” she said. “So different institutions and leaders are forced into having this conversation, or even thinking about where they stand. People are asking them to communicate where they stand.”
Feldon, from Utah, has hope. He thinks that the Modern Orthodox world needs queer rabbis to lead the conversation on inclusion from a halachic perspective — and he thinks that can still happen, despite the push by Modern Orthodoxy’s flagship university to block the Pride Alliance.
“I choose to believe,” said Feldon, “that we’ll get there. My dream life is where I can bring my boyfriend to minyan [prayer services] three times a day. And I choose to believe that we are on that path.”
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The post ‘Where do I stand?’ Queer Modern Orthodox teens navigate a changing world appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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How to make quick and easy Sephardi pumpkin patties for Hanukkah
In the United States, pumpkin pie is almost mandatory at Thanksgiving, while pumpkin makes occasional appearances in sweet breads and sometimes a creamy soup during the fall and winter — all the way through Hanukkah. Pumpkin also holds a special place in the stomachs — and history — of Sephardic Jews. This versatile fruit is used in cakes, soups, stews, puddings, jams, pastries and pancakes — including latkes. It can be savory or sweet and baked, boiled, roasted, steamed or stuffed. And, yes, it’s a fruit much like avocados, tomatoes and squash.
Pumpkins have been around as a cultivated food for a surprisingly long time. Native Americans grew them for nearly 6,000 years before pumpkins became one of the first New World foods introduced to Europeans by Spanish explorers in the early 1500s.
During the 16th century, the Jews remaining in Iberia were nearly all conversos, converts to Christianity, with many secretly hanging onto their Judaism, often through food. During the 16th and 17th centuries, these secret Jews continued to flee Spain’s inquisition across Europe to the Ottoman Empire and throughout the Mediterranean and Middle East, bringing with them their love of this new ingredient, pumpkin. As Gil Marks notes in “The Encyclopedia of Jewish Food:” The presence of pumpkin in early Mediterranean dishes is usually a sign of Sephardi influence.” You can read more about the history of Sephardim and pumpkin here.
From this Sephardi influence, Italian Jews were among the first to robustly incorporate pumpkin into their cuisine, becoming known for their pumpkin-stuffed ravioli and tortellini, puddings and sweet pumpkin fritters (fritelle di zucca). Sephardim who found new homes in what is now Turkey and Greece made many pumpkin dishes, including filling flakey Ottoman pastries to make borekas de kalavasa (pumpkin in Ladino, the language of Sephardim) and deep-fried pumpkin fritters or sweet pancakes, both called bimuelos de kalavasa. There are, by the way, different versions of the name, which include bumuelos, birmuelos and, in Central America, buñuelos.
We can’t talk about pumpkins without bringing up its 21st-century status as a “super food” acclaimed for its nutrient-dense benefits. Pumpkin flesh is fat-free, and high in fiber, potassium and vitamin C. It provides antioxidants and is one of the best sources of beta carotene. All this adds up to being good for hearts, eyesight, weight control and cancer-fighting. Canned pumpkin still has these healthy benefits including 7 grams of fiber per cup, more than two slices of whole wheat bread. In fact, unlike most fruits and vegetables, nutritionally, canned pumpkin is usually as good, or even better, than the homemade puree… and a whole lot less work.
Sephardim recognize pumpkin’s importance during the fall holidays. At the traditional Sephardi Rosh Hashanah seder, one of the special seven blessings is symbolized by pumpkin (or its close relative, squash). At Sukkot, not only is pumpkin a fall crop, but the many seeds symbolize fertility and abundance. These pumpkin patties, bimuelos de kalavasa, are perfect for Hanukkah along with the deep-fried version.
So this year, for your potato latke-laden Hanukkah, let these pumpkins patties bring an easy and tasty bite of Sephardi history to the table.
This story originally appeared on The Nosher.
The post How to make quick and easy Sephardi pumpkin patties for Hanukkah appeared first on The Forward.
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The Gaza International Stabilization Force Can Be the IDF
A Red Cross vehicle, escorted by a van driven by a Hamas terrorist, moves in an area within the so-called “yellow line” to which Israeli troops withdrew under the ceasefire, as Hamas says it continues to search for the bodies of deceased hostages seized during the Oct. 7, 2023, attack on Israel, in Gaza City, Nov. 12, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Dawoud Abu Alk
On December 29, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will meet with US President Donald Trump to weigh options for implementing Phase 2 of the Gaza ceasefire plan, which was endorsed by UN Security Council Resolution 2803.
The most urgent task in Phase 2 is addressed by the resolution at Section 7. The provision urges the many interested parties — called Member States — to organize an International Stabilization Force (ISF) that will disarm Hamas and demilitarize Gaza.
It won’t be easy. Most Member States are unwilling or reluctant to commit troops to the ISF. Others suggest the ISF should be a mere monitoring group similar to the UN peacekeepers in Lebanon. However, those “blue helmets” did nothing to disarm the Lebanese-based Hezbollah terrorist group, or to demilitarize its zone of operations.
The only fighting force with the demonstrated motivation and ability to execute the mandated mission of disarmament and demilitarization is the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF). The IDF nearly defeated Hamas in October, but stopped at Hamas’ last stronghold when the ceasefire deal was signed.
Section 7 does not mention whether the ISF may be composed of just a single state. The authors expected a multinational ISF, perhaps because they believed the involvement of a few Muslim states would act as a buffer against perceived IDF aggression. On the other hand, the text of Section 7 may be reasonably interpreted to permit a delegation of the ISF’s entire workload to the IDF.
To begin with, Section 7 requires the ISF to “use all necessary measures” to achieve the military objectives of Phase 2. Member States may comply with this clause by empowering the IDF to disarm Hamas and demilitarize Gaza. The wording does not require the use of force to be conducted by a minimum number of Member States.
Next, Section 7 compels the ISF to work “in close cooperation” with Egypt and Israel. Assembling the ISF from the ranks of Israel’s own army would help cement such cross-border cooperation.
The section also instructs the ISF to “train and support vetted Palestinian police forces.” No military unit is more fit for that function than the IDF, based on its decades of interactions with the Palestinian police.
A related operational factor supports the concept of an ISF staffed by IDF troops. The IDF maintains crucial contacts with anti-Hamas militias in Gaza. Those resistance fighters know the complex urban terrain, and they command respect among area civilians. Including them in the ISF mission would be a strong force multiplier.
In an IDF-as-ISF model, the funding mechanism of Section 7 would remain unchanged. Member states and other donors would simply direct their “voluntary contributions” to Israel instead of some other ISF incarnation. A Member State that refuses to contribute funding could be excluded from the multinational Board of Peace, which the UN resolution envisions as Gaza’s transitional government.
Section 7 states that when Gaza reaches the point of “control and stability,” the IDF must withdraw to a designated “security perimeter presence” in the enclave. Some may fear that awarding the ISF function to the IDF would incentivize Israel to occupy all of Gaza, and potentially extend sovereignty to the domain, with no admission of control or stability. However, Section 7 already stipulates that the withdrawal milestone must be determined jointly by a diverse group of decision-makers, including not only the IDF but the US, Egypt, Qatar, and Turkey.
Finally, giving the ISF role to the IDF would help ensure the Phase 2 goals are met “without delay,” as demanded by the resolution at Section 1. Hamas has already caused weeks of delay by dragging out the hostage return process required by the first phase of the ceasefire plan. The procrastination enabled Hamas to consolidate its power. For example, the terror group recruited more fighters, converted al-Nasser Hospital into a prison to torture dissidents, and wrangled more funding from its terrorist patron, Iran. Consequently, it will now take more time to disarm the group and demilitarize the enclave. Waiting even longer to attain the unrealistic dream of a multi-state ISF would cause even more delay. The setback would not only embolden Hamas but prolong the suffering of Gaza’s war-torn civilian population.
It’s likely that many UN member states would reject this plan, because it’s not what they believed they signed onto. But so far, none of them has put forth a better or more realistic alternative. Moderate states don’t want to send troops, and extremist states like Turkey (which supports Hamas) cannot be allowed to.
No amount of UN resolutions will help Gaza recover from the Hamas-initiated war until Hamas is defanged and its terrorist stronghold is demolished. That dirty work may not be popular, but it must be done. Otherwise, Hamas will continue to exploit Gaza as a launching pad for its ruinous attacks.
Joel M. Margolis is the Legal Commentator, American Association of Jewish Lawyers and Jurists, US Affiliate of the International Association of Jewish Lawyers and Jurists. His 2001 book, “The Israeli-Palestinian Legal War,” analyzed the major legal issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Previously he worked as a telecommunications lawyer in both the public and private sectors.
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A Gazan Warehouse of Baby Formula Exposes Hamas Was Withholding Food From Children
The New York Times building in New York City. Photo: Wikimedia Commons
Throughout the summer of 2025, doctors in Gaza repeatedly warned that babies were going hungry due to a shortage of infant formula. These claims were amplified across global media and social platforms, often delivered in dramatic appeals for urgent international intervention. Over time, the narrative became one of the most prominent humanitarian storylines of the season.
The New York Times wrote that “Parents in Gaza Are Running Out of Ways to Feed Their Children,” and The Guardian urged action as babies were “at risk of death from lack of formula.”
Perhaps most widely known were the stories of malnourished children in Gaza whose gaunt images dominated front pages around the world. Families of these young children pleaded for international intervention, saying they had “no formula, no supplements, no vitamins” to feed their babies.
Although some of these children were later reported to have had pre-existing medical conditions that contributed to their malnourishment, much of the media continued to advance a narrative suggesting that Israel was deliberately targeting children by restricting adequate humanitarian aid to Gaza.
Israel, however, consistently maintained that there was a steady supply of infant formula entering Gaza. At the height of the media frenzy over alleged starvation, Israeli records showed that more than 1,400 tons of baby formula, including specialized formulations for infants with medical needs, had been delivered into the Strip.
So where was all the formula?
In Hamas-controlled warehouses.
This week, anti-Hamas activists exposed a storage facility operated by the Hamas-run Gaza Ministry of Health stocked with large quantities of baby formula and nutritional supplements intended for children — supplies that had never reached the families featured in international headlines.
This is the terror organization Israel has been fighting for the past two years, and precisely why its removal from power in Gaza remains a central condition of any lasting ceasefire.
Hamas’ campaign is not driven solely by hostility toward Israel, but by a calculated willingness to endanger its own civilians to advance its goal of dismantling the Jewish State. That strategy has included obstructing or diverting humanitarian aid when it suited its aims — even when the victims were children.
By placing Gazan lives in harm’s way and exploiting their suffering, Hamas weaponized heartbreaking images to sway global opinion against Israel. In the process, it manipulated media narratives while evading responsibility for the humanitarian consequences of its own actions. Tragically, it did so with considerable success.
The same outlets that aggressively promoted the claim that Israel was withholding aid and deliberately starving children by blocking access to infant formula have since gone conspicuously silent. A story that once dominated front pages around the world has virtually disappeared now that evidence has emerged showing that Israel was not the perpetrator.
Hamas manipulated the media — and it worked. By laundering terrorist propaganda through headlines, imagery, and selective outrage, then declining to correct the record once that narrative unraveled, major outlets exposed how vulnerable they are to manipulation when facts complicate preferred storylines.
Hamas has been the agitator all along, recklessly endangering both Palestinian and Israeli lives. It is time the media confront that reality and their role in falsely accusing Israel of starving innocent Palestinians.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.