A Litany for Survival

BY AUDRE LORDE

For those of us who live at the shoreline

standing upon the constant edges of decision

crucial and alone

for those of us who cannot indulge

the passing dreams of choice

who love in doorways coming and going

in the hours between dawns

looking inward and outward

at once before and after

seeking a now that can breed

futures

like bread in our children’s mouths

so their dreams will not reflect

the death of ours;

---

For those of us

who were imprinted with fear

like a faint line in the center of our foreheads

learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk

for by this weapon

this illusion of some safety to be found

the heavy-footed hoped to silence us

For all of us

this instant and this triumph

We were never meant to survive.

---

And when the sun rises we are afraid

it might not remain

when the sun sets we are afraid

it might not rise in the morning

when our stomachs are full we are afraid

of indigestion

when our stomachs are empty we are afraid

we may never eat again

when we are loved we are afraid

love will vanish

when we are alone we are afraid

love will never return

and when we speak we are afraid

our words will not be heard

nor welcomed

but when we are silent

we are still afraid

---

So it is better to speak

remembering

we were never meant to survive.

In the Passover Seder, wine is an essential part of the service and there are four distinct places where participants bless the wine throughout. The first glass of wine, or kiddush, is at the beginning of the Seder, and sets the tone of what is to come throughout the evening. Wine symbolizes freedom! And the four cups of wine symbolize the liberation of the Jewish people from bondage in Egypt. For this abridged Haggadah, only one glass of wine is needed. Raise your glass of wine and say the following blessing together.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’Olam, borei p’ri hagafen.
Blessed are You, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Throughout the course of the Seder, we drink four cups of wine or grape juice, marking our progress through the night. According to one popular interpretation, these four cups allude to the story in which the Divine speaks to Moses and promises to redeem the Hebrew people from enslavement (Exodus 6:6-7). This Divine promise contains four verbs used to describe the act of liberation: וְהוֹצֵאתִ֣י,  I will take you out, וְהִצַּלְתִּ֥י,  I will rescue you, וְגָאַלְתִּ֤י,  I will redeem you, and וְלָקַחְתִּ֨י , I will bring you.

The liberatory process of the Exodus was both active and ongoing, requiring not one but four modes of action by the Divine. All the more so in our time, as we take responsibility for the work of liberation, we are reminded that this process requires ongoing action on multiple levels. Both oppression and liberation function in four modes: the Ideological, the Institutional, the Interpersonal, and the Internalized. These four modes are interwoven and reinforce one another; when we engage with all four modes, our work can be most powerful.

As we navigate through the four cups, we will use each one as a dual invitation: an opportunity to reflect on one way oppression shows up in the world as well as on one way we can bring about liberation.

Each reflection may be recited before or after the blessing over the wine or juice. Alternatively, the reflections may be recited when each cup is filled.

First Cup: Ideological

Ideological  oppression happens due to systemic beliefs that some groups of people are superior or more deserving. For too long, certain traditional Jewish texts have been used to justify harm, exclusion, or erasure. While many Jewish communities no longer uphold these interpretations, the impact of generations of ideological oppression continues to reverberate through our communities, our political systems, and the social structures and dynamics that shape our daily experiences.

We meet ideological oppression with ideological affirmation. We believe, concretely and actively, that LGBTQ+ individuals embody the Divine, and deserve dignity, safety, love, and celebration. We commit to expressing this belief in our actions. This year, we will build towards a world that is not only free of anti-LGBTQ+ bigotry but that also actively celebrates and honors LGBTQ+ lives.

Second Cup: Institutional

Institutional  oppression happens when systems, policies, or simply the “way things are done” have a disproportionate impact on specific groups of people, reinforcing inequality. Sometimes these systems are hard to detect because they thrive on the assumption that they are “simply the way things are.” Institutional oppression is a large part of why the LGBTQ+ community, especially LGBTQ+ People of Color or those who have other multiply-marginalized identities, experience severe disparities in access to housing, employment, medical care, communal resources, and so much more.

We meet institutional oppression with institutional change. We commit to examining the institutions we are a part of and asking ourselves, “Who is served by this way of doing things? Who is served less? Who is not served at all?”

More concretely, we will actively seek to identify and remove barriers to access for LGBTQ+ people, bringing an awareness of the many ways that assumptions about gender and sexual orientation are embedded in the structures of our institutions. Together, we will build institutions that embody justice, access, and full participation and leadership of LGBTQ+ people.

Third Cup: Interpersonal

Interpersonal  oppression is oppression that shows up in interactions between people, whether those be instances of individual discrimination, mistreatment, or expressions of implicit bias. Interpersonal oppression does real harm to individuals and has far-reaching consequences for our communities and institutions.

We meet interpersonal oppression with allyship and self-advocacy. Whether or not we ourselves are LGBTQ+, we have the power to respond to, intervene in, and create cultures in which interpersonal respect and decency are the norm. We commit to learning and practicing concrete tools for intervention in the moment, as well as personally modeling and reinforcing cultures of respect and dignity for LGBTQ+ people.

Fourth Cup: Internalized

Internalized  oppression happens when negative messages about a group of people are so dominant and constant that they become internalized. In a time in which negative stereotypes about LGBTQ+ people pervade politics, entertainment, and the media, we all encounter these messages on a daily basis. LGBTQ+ people may internalize these messages by feeling less-than, hyper vigilant, reinforcing or fleeing from stereotypes, and using mental and emotional energy to secure their own safety. Cisgender and straight people also may internalize these messages by subconsciously reinforcing stereotypes or negative beliefs about LGBTQ+ people.

We meet internalized oppression with love and liberation. We commit to a process of unlearning stereotypes and biases, building systems of accountability and mutual care, and celebrating our LGBTQ+ selves and our LGBTQ+ loved ones. We envision a world in which every LGBTQ+ person encounters positive messages about their identities, joyful role models, and communities of belonging.

The Shehecheyanu is a prayer that Jews have been saying for over 2000 years to mark special occasions. Tonight, all of us here together is special occasion. Whether Jewish or not, we have come here under a shared belief that everyone is entitled to be free. We all believe that everyone is entitled to certain inalienable rights. We all believe that we must treat our brothers and sisters with common decency. That is special and meaningful.

To mark this special and meaningful occasion, we all join together in the words of the Shehecheyanu:

בָרוּךְ אַתָה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְמָנוּ

וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְמַן הַזֶה

Baruch atah, Adonai, eloheinu melech ha’olam,

shehecheyanu v’kiy’manu v’higiyanu lazman hazeh.

Blessed are you, Adonai, sovereign of all worlds, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this moment.

As LGBTQ+ Jews and allies, each of us is unique.

This year, Keshet staff and board chose food and objects for an additional Seder plate to represent our communities.

Download our plate, add your own food/object to the middle, share it with us using #MyKeshetSeder, and tell us what it means to you!

Art by Sol Weiss

About our plate:

“Rhubarb’s bright pink stalks are unapologetic and eye-catching, with a sour-sweet flavor that’s not for everyone. As a femme, queer woman, I want to channel that same unapologetic energy in the bright and colorful ways I express myself and embrace the unique flavor I bring.”

Talia Makowsky (she/her)
Keshet Communications Manager, Baltimore, MD

 “Rambutans have a spiky, threatening exterior that belies a sweet, tender interior, reminding me of the simultaneous resilience and tenderness within communities of queer and trans Jewish youth of color.”

Is Perlman (they/them)
Keshet Youth Engagement Intern, New York, NY

 “Growing up in Southern Indiana, my hometown hosted an annual apple butter festival. It brings back memories of home, and the sweet and spice of trans Jews in the Midwest.”

Issac Young (he/him)
Keshet Midwest Youth Engagement Manager, Chicago, IL

“I chose vegan collard greens to represent queer, Black Jews. Collard greens have been a source of sustenance for Black Americans in the South, both during and after enslavement, and remain a staple of soul food to this very day.”

Chaim Ezra Harrison (he/him)
Keshet Communications Manager, Detroit, MI

“I chose a starfruit to represent the unique and energizing community of Jews in Florida who are taking action against oppressive anti-LGBTQ+ legislation.”

Jon Cohen (he/him)
Keshet Director of Community Mobilization, Miami, FL

“Every opal is unique and within the stone is a rainbow of colors. To me, this symbolizes the brilliant, beautiful, and resilient people within our LGBTQ+ communities everywhere.”

Davia Loren (she/her)
Keshet Board Member, Seattle, WA

“16th Century Kabbalist Moshe Cordovero compared the universe to a mustard seed. May the bitter spiciness of deli mustard remind us as trans Jews that in our communal grief there is also life.”

Jay Smith (they/them)
Keshet Chief Communications Officer, Northampton, MA

The karpas, the green vegetable, is the first part of the seder that makes this night different from all other nights. So far, the first glass of wine and the hand washing, though significant, do not serve to mark any sort of difference; they are regular parts of meals. The karpas, however, is not. As a night marked by difference, that difference starts now. Tonight, we celebrate difference with the karpas. Here, difference brings us hope, joy, and renewed life.

We also know that with difference can come pain and tears. We have shed these tears ourselves and we have caused others to shed tears. Some say we dip the karpas in salt water to remind ourselves of Joseph, whose brothers sold him into slavery and then dipped his fabulous, technicolor dream coat into blood to bring back to their father, Jacob. Difference can also be dangerous.

Tonight, we dip the karpas into salt water, and as we taste it, we taste both the fresh, celebratory hope of difference and the painful blood and tears that have come with it.

Together we say:

Brukha at Yah eloheynu ruakh ha'olam boreit p'ri ha'adamah.

You are Blessed, Our God, Spirit of the World, who creates the fruit of the earth.

This clip originally appeared on Ritualwell.org.

Yachatz: Dividing the Middle Matzah

The passover story contains many examples of hiddenness/brokeness  and the struggle to be recognized and live freely.  At this moment we  break the middlle matzah in half  and hide one of its halves.  As we do so,   we recognize the struggle of dual identity many LGBTQIA+  individuals face.  When we are not free to live as we are, we live in a divided and hidden way, compartmentalizing our selves in order to survive. 

Silently break the middle matzah.

Set the larger piece as the afikoman and wrap it in a napkin.

The smaller piece is saved for the hamotzi (a blessing).

Keshset

Who are the Four Allies? Which one are you?

1. The ally who asks what “LGBTQ” means: The first step to taking bold action and advocating on behalf of others is to approach with curiosity, humility, and openness. An ally is open to learning new things and challenging their own assumptions.

2. The ally who stands up for a friend: The lives of people we care about, our friends, family, and colleagues can be powerful catalysts for action.

3. The ally who speaks up about equality: When we speak out against injustice because it’s the right thing to do, regardless if someone we know and care about is affected, we act on behalf our core values.

4. The ally who comes out as an advocate to move equality forward: As allies, we are often insulated from the vulnerabilities that LGBTQ people face in the world. However coming out publicly as an ally can also mean taking a risk on behalf of the values and people we care about.

What are the Four Questions we could be asking ourselves? Consider these:

1. What other social movements for equality have you stood up for?
2. When have you been an ally or seen someone else be an ally?
3. What kind of ally would you like to be?
4. What are you risking by being an ally? What is on the line for you?

The youngest person present may ask the four questions.

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶה מִכָּל הַלֵּילוֹת

Ma nishtana halaila hazeh mikol haleilot?

Why is this night different from all other nights?

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין חָמֵץ וּמַצָה, הַלַּיְלָה הַזֵה - כֻּלֶּוֹ מַצָה

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin chameitz u-matzah. Halaila hazeh kulo matzah.

On all other nights, we eat both leavened bread and matzah. Tonight we only eat matzah.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת - הַלַּיְלָה הַזֵה (כֻּלֶּוֹ) מַצָה

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin shi’ar yirakot halaila hazeh maror.

On all other nights, we eat all kinds of vegetables, but tonight we eat bitter herbs.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אֵין אָנוּ מַטְבִּילִין אֲפִילוּ פַּעַם אֶחָת - הַלַּיְלָה הַזֵה שְׁתֵּיפְעָמִים

Shebichol haleilot ein anu matbilin afilu pa-am echat. Halaila hazeh shtei fi-amim.

On all other nights, we aren’t expected to dip our vegetables even one time. Tonight we do it twice.

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין בֵּין יוֹשְׁבִין וּבֵין מְסֻבִּין - הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶה כֻּלָּנוּ מְסֻבִּין

Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin bein yoshvin uvein m’subin. Halaila hazeh kulanu m’subin.

On all other nights, we eat either sitting normally or reclining. Tonight we recline.

The Plagues happened at the same time as a massive volcano eruption. The volcano Santorini sent ash in to the air effecting the surrounding area. The ash is found in Cairo and the Nile River, proven by testing the composition of the ash. This volcanic eruption happened between 1500-1650BC while the Plagues happened between 1400-1550BC. So it fits there. 

1st Plague. River ran red LIKE blood. But there is a common algae plume called the Red Tide. This makes the river, or any water, look red like blood. Why did this happen? The ash changes the PH level of the river allowing the algae to bloom. 

2nd Plague. Frogs. The algae is killing fish. Fish eat frog eggs. No fish, record number of frogs. Frogs can't live in polluted water and so leave the river. 

3rd and 4th Plague. Lice and flies. The translation can actually be lice, fleas, gnats, or midges. But you have riverfull of dead fish, and now dead frogs. This brings the insects of the 3rd and 4th Plague. 

5th Plague. Pestilence. Flies, dead frogs, dead fish, easy enough no? 

6th Plague. Boils. Certain types of flies that bite can leave behind boils. The bites get infected, they turn in to boils. 

7th Plague. Fire and Hail. Ash in the air causes a mixture of ash and water. The ash, very high in the air, causes the water to freeze so when it falls it is hail and not rain. The fire? I saw this amazing picture in Nat. Geo. of a volcanic eruption. There was red lightning. It was amazing to see bright red lightning. Why is it red? Chemicals in the ash makes red lightning. So fire in the sky, and hail. 

8th Plague. Locusts. Locusts come about when the ground is very damp. They bury their eggs in the sand about 4-6 inches. After record amount of hail the ground would be very wet allowing the locusts to form. 

9th Plague. Darkness. Ash in the air. After am eruption in 1815 there was darkness for 600 kilometers. After Krakatoa it was dark for even farther for days. 

10th Plague. Death of First born. In Egypt the first born was king. They would be the one to lead the family after the father died. When food was scarce the first born ate first and some times was the only one to eat. After locusts ate every thing there was only grain locked in vaults. The hail got it wet, locust feces, it made it moldy. And so when only the first born ate, they were the only ones killed by moldy grain. 

Adapted from Mah Nishtana - A GLGBT+ Ally Haggadah, 2005.

By Anonymous, Rabbi Micah Buck-Yael, Rabbi Kerry Chaplin, Makella Craelius, Elianna Goldstein, Rabbi Avi Katz-Orlow, Jessica Meyer, Amy Sandler, David Schwartz, Emily Silver, and Aaron Weininger.

Updated by Rabbi Micah Buck-Yael in 2022

As Jews, we are obligated to treat all people with humility and respect, regardless of differences. At a time when LGBTQ+ rights remain under attack, we must continue the work for full equality and dignity in all spaces. At the same time, we must also honor and celebrate each individual win, no matter how small or incomplete, that has gotten us here. Dayeinu reminds us to celebrate every step of the way.

Just as with the original dayeinu, we say dayeinu not because we’re satisfied with where we are, but because we and our communities and our ancestors worked and fought to bring us forward, and every advance to liberation deserves celebration.

To express our personal responsibility we offer an alternate take on Dayeinu:

If God had given us life, but not the ability to love,

Dayeinu.

If God had given us the ability to love, but not the freedom to love who we love and be who we are,

Dayeinu.

If God had given us the freedom to love who we love and be who we are, but not the freedom to live as ourselves,

Dayeinu.

If God had given us the freedom to live as ourselves, but not to express our love however we choose,

Dayeinu.

If God had given us the freedom to express our love however we choose, but not given the people around us the empathy to understand our love,

Dayeinu.

If God had given the people around us the empathy to understand our love, but not the willingness to celebrate it with us,

Dayeinu.

If we were to ensure the Jewish people never return to slavery, but not to protect LGBTQ people from violence,

It would not be enough for us.

If we were to protect LGBTQ people from violence, but not to include them in our ceremonies,

It would not be enough for us.

If we were to include LGBTQ people in our ceremonies, but not to treat them with honor and respect,

It would not be enough for us.

If we were to treat LGBTQ people with kindness, but not to make an effort to truly understand their struggle,

It would not be enough for us.

 If we were to end LGBTQ oppression, but allow others around us to remain oppressed,

It would not be enough for us.

Download the resource here!

The great sage Hillel provided us with the tradition of constructing the Hillel sandwich, combining the bitterness of the maror with the sweetness of the charoset between the fortitude of the two pieces of matzah--the symbol of freedom. Through this ritual, we think about mortar and brick. We think of the Israelites traveling through the desert with no homes, no place to land and build up their strong communities, and only the matzah as a reminder of their freedom. 

Tonight, as we eat this sandwich, let us remember the privilege of our infrastructure and the freedom and comfort that our homes provide us.