Beloved Arise, a Seattle-based nonprofit that seeks to empower religious LGBTQ youth from various faiths, continues to inspire its members. An essay contest leading up to Queer Youth of Faith Day on June 30 showed that for the young people, spirituality comes with questions and acceptance.
Readers may recall that the Bay Area Reporter spoke with other Beloved Arise members last year during Pride Month. Those young adults, who also took part in an essay contest, said not only could they be unapologetically Christian, Jewish, and Muslim and also be proudly transgender, pansexual, bisexual, and nonbinary, and that coming out deepened their faith. (The article also won an award from the California News Publishers Association.)
This year, the organization held another essay contest, which had five winners. Two agreed to speak with the Bay Area Reporter as Queer Youth of Faith Day enters its second year.
Naor Aaron: Questioning everything at the core of being Jewish, queer
Naor Aaron, a 21-year-old Jewish trans man, wrote about how Judaism was ever-present while he was growing up.
“My parents are both rabbis, so Judaism was everywhere, woven into everything we did. Where there was joy, there was Judaism,” Aaron wrote. “Where there was pain, there was Judaism. It wasn't just a set of beliefs; it shaped how we saw the world and how we carried ourselves. It is what guided and continues to guide my family to be stronger, more level-headed individuals.”
Aaron wrote that even when he didn’t yet understand he was a trans man, “I would wear Jewish garb traditionally meant for men.” He told the B.A.R. in a Zoom call that he had a “positive queer and Jewish experience” growing up.
“Being queer wasn’t negatively spoken about,” Aaron said, adding his parents are part of the reformed branch of Judaism, and he grew up in a mix of conservative and reform movements.
Aaron said that when he eventually came out, his parents “were very Jewish about it. They said, ‘We don’t care who you marry, as long as they’re Jewish,’” which he clarified was a joke.
One way Aaron found Jewish and queer identities intersecting is that both groups put an emphasis on the importance of questioning things.
“Go in life and question everything,” Aaron said. “If you don’t question, you’re not learning, and I think being queer you learn so much about yourself and about others. There is obviously a book of laws [in the Hebrew Bible], but there are so many books that give you prompts, and it’s on you to decide based on your life what they mean.”
As Aaron wrote in his essay, “What's beautiful about Judaism is that it encourages you to make it your own. The phrase ‘Ask three Jews, get seven answers’ is real, and fascinating. Every person has a unique perspective and lived experience that shapes how religion takes root in their life. To be queer is to know yourself. Most people aren't born with the immediate knowledge that they are queer. Instead, they embark on a journey, wanted or not, to uncover parts of themselves that society told them couldn't exist. To be queer is to ask questions. And to me, so is being religious.”
The accoutrements of the faith are another way to express his identity, Aaron said.
“It is gender-affirming, a way to show up in the world as myself, and a reminder that my faith and my identity aren't in conflict,” he wrote. “When I put on my kippah or tzitzit, I feel aligned, not just in my gender, but in my Judaism. It prepares me for prayer, grounding me in something bigger than myself. I would not be who I am without my kippah (yarmulke) or my tzitzit (the strings that are worn on the four corners of the body). This connection carries over into my prayer. The line between an everyday moment and prayer is thin for me.”
Aaron is currently in Illinois and will be attending college in the fall in Colorado. He has sometimes lived in Israel and was an intern with Rabbis for Human Rights, which advocates for a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, during the olive harvest.
“Their whole idea is occupation is not Jewish,” Aaron said.
Aaron asked the B.A.R. specifically to print these remarks: “I don’t know what this paper or its takes are on everything but one thing I’ll say whether or not you put it in is queer people have a duty to stand up and say something, and stand up and act, when there’s atrocities happening in the world, especially because we know what it’s like for it to happen to us, and we know what it’s like to be othered and we know what it’s like to not be listened to.
“I think it is our duty, especially, I’m not going to word this exactly right … especially as Jews in this world, to the Jews who are reading this, it is our core value Tikkun olam, to repair the world, that we must actually repair it, and there is a saying in the Torah that talks about the Second Temple and it says it is not your duty to finish the job, but neither is it to desist from it,” Aaron continued. “It’s apparent to everything we do in life but, at this moment, it’s very apparent and very topical to Palestine and it’s very topical to the destruction and genocide in Gaza and everything going on there, and it may be buzzer words to some people, but it’s real.”
Queer Youth of Faith Day
Gretta Miller is a project strategist for Beloved Arise. Miller, who is bisexual, told the B.A.R. this is the fourth annual essay contest the organization has held.
“We provide a prompt and essay contest specific for queer youth of faith – people who hold identities within the LGBTQ spectrum,” Miller said, adding this year’s prompt was “As a queer person of faith, what tradition, ritual, or practice makes you feel joy, peace, or sense of belief?”
There were 50 submissions in total this year.
While stereotypes pit religious people and LGBTQs at odds, Miller cited a 2022 Trevor Project study that found 21% of queer youth value their religious identities.
A February article in The Economist found America’s Generation Z is experiencing a slight uptick in religious identity compared to the millennial generation at the same age. Asked if this is just vibes or media hype, Miller said, “We are seeing that reflected in some of the work we do.”
Miller hopes that Beloved Arise can help young people navigate their identities in a positive way, saying the goal is “more accessibility to affirming theology” rather than trying to refute anything other than the belief people have to choose between two parts of who they are.
“I think there’s more and more examples, when it comes down to visibility, when people see other people or hear other people’s stories with a similar background, I think they feel less alone,” Miller said. “I think as it comes to faith practice we’re not saying, ‘Ignore that part of yourself so you can be who you are.’ We’re saying, ‘Because of your faith practices, you can be who you are.’”
Asked about Queer Youth of Faith Day, Miller said, “People are getting loud on social media and sharing who they are,” but Beloved Arise is stepping back so people can spearhead their own events in their local communities.
This year’s theme is “Every young person deserves to be loved unconditionally,” and people are being asked to share accounts with the hashtag #IamBeloved.
Isabella Bravo: Grateful for accepting religious environment
Isabella Bravo, 17, lives in Sacramento, where she practices traditional Native American spirituality. She’s planning on going to UC Berkeley in the fall.
Practitioners of Native American spirituality have services at a roundhouse, a circular building used for community gatherings, ceremonies, and social events.
“The space of my faith, the Roundhouse, is warm, welcoming, and inviting to all those who need thoughts and prayers and those who want to express their gratitude, which I often do,” Bravo wrote in her essay. “When I dance, when I offer prayer, I'm not thought of as different, I don't feel expectations or stereotypes shoved onto me, I feel appreciative of my life and what got me to where I am, a significant part of that is my identity.
“In many organized religions, queer people have a history of being persecuted, but what's so special about mine is that queer and non-conforming people were embraced completely, they were the wise medicine people who could heal their community when they needed it the most,” she added. “Everything about my faith allows me to be comfortable in my own skin.”
Asked about what it’s like hearing about or meeting people who are from religious traditions that are anti-LGBTQ, Bravo told the B.A.R. that, “People at my school had a lot of prejudice and that was scary as I came to terms with myself.”
“I think where I grew up, there were not a lot of Native people, so I had to find places myself,” Bravo said. “I grew up going to my traditional ceremonies. In my family, we pray to our Creator, traditional ceremonies and prayers. Stuff like that.”
One of these is the bear dance, she said, which is “kind of a celebration when bears come out of hibernation, in the springtime, and my family used to go up to Yosemite where there’s a traditional Roundhouse, and there’d be cultural performances and a fire that will carry our prayers up to our ancestors and creator.”
Bravo explained, “Never when surrounded by my faith have I felt like an outcast when that seems to be the case everywhere else as an atypical teenager in a heteronormative world.”
Bravo came out as bisexual initially, during the COVID pandemic lockdown.
“When I was first discovering myself as a queer-identifying person, it was a time of worldwide unease, sickness, loneliness, and hate,” Bravo wrote in her essay. “Coming out as bisexual to my family was an extremely isolating feeling, knowing that queer people across the world are afraid to express themselves and by doing so it could put me in danger. Quarantine only accelerated those feelings. But slowly, as we began to practice our faith again with a community, I didn't feel alone, I didn't feel pressure to define myself when I was constantly unsure if I was bisexual or gay, I just felt like me for the first time in a while. I was truly decolonizing myself in simply embracing myself and doing what made me happy. By celebrating and experiencing joy and gratitude I have decolonized my identity.”
Both Bravo and Aaron found out about Beloved Arise while applying for colleges. Bravo said, “I don’t really meet a lot of people like me so I really wanted to tell it through their essay contest.”
The news she was among the winners was “very shocking,” Bravo said. “I didn’t think the essay was good enough, but I’m glad I was able to tell my story the way I did.”
For more information about Beloved Arise, go to belovedarise.org.
