Navigating the intersectionality of their identities has many Canadian queer Jews feeling isolated, tired, and disappointed

This is a story about people not politics. It’s about your cousins, neighbours, friends, coworkers in a country that’s long had an image as one of the most tolerant countries in the world.

But the ongoing war between Hamas and Israel as well as a recent spate of anti-trans legislation and policy announcements are making it hard for many Jewish LGBTQ2S+ people to feel like they fit in both those spaces.

 In just the last week, pro-Palestinian protestors have targeted Jewish community buildings and synagogues in Montreal and the Toronto area. Similar protests caused the Art Gallery of Ontario to cancel an event with the Canadian and Italian prime ministers over security concerns. Jewish student group Hillel has also been a prime target for anti-Israel and anti-Jewish sentiment at Canadian universities. These are a few recent examples of organized anti-Israel protests, often with calls for violence against or the death of Jews, on the streets and campuses across the country.

Last month, Danielle Smith, the premier of Alberta, announced sweeping new anti-trans policies aimed at limiting gender-affirming health care, sex education, and athletic participation. Alberta’s proposals mimic those of similar “parental rights” laws introduced in two other of Canada’s 10 provinces. Last year, Saskatchewan premier Scott Moe used the notwithstanding clause in the Charter to push through a law requiring parental consent for children under 16 who want to change their names or pronouns at school. A judge in that province recently allowed a challenge to the law by Regina’s UR Pride to proceed.

The confluence of these events and the ongoing need to carefully navigate the intersectionality of their identities has left many queer Jews feeling isolated, tired, and disappointed.

I reached out to dozens of Jewish members of the LGBTQS2+ community over the course of a few weeks in February. Most weren’t willing to speak to me on the record about their experiences for a variety of reasons including their experiences of being bombarded with antisemitic vitriol on social media and concerns about their personal safety and current and future employment. Below are some of the stories shared with me, although some people agreed to participate only if their real names were not used.

Queer communities in Canada have long trended toward a pro-Palestinian point of view, often reflected in clashes over whether certain Jewish groups should be allowed to march in pride parades, says Aviva Rathbone, board chair of JQT, a Vancouver-based Jewish queer and trans organization.

“Right now, what it means is that many of the Jews in the queer community, especially Israelis, but also Jews who would maybe call themselves Zionists or who feel complex about the situation in Israel and Gaza, are not welcome in queer communities,” she says.

“I feel a lot safer being queer in the Jewish community than I feel safe being Jewish in the queer community,” says Jessie, a 21-year-old student and environmental activist whose asked me not to use their real name they’re worried about repercussions for speaking out.

The February introduction of sweeping new anti-trans policies in Alberta aimed at limiting gender-affirming health care, sex education, and athletic participation mimic those of similar “parental rights” laws introduced in two other of Canada’s 10 provinces.

“I'm scared honestly, for trans people for young trans people who need this care and are being interfered with by politicians,” says Cas Allen, a 21-year-old university student whose access to hormone blockers changed his life when he was 15.

Ezra, a 39-year-old trans teacher in Calgary, Alberta, who prefers not to use his real name, says the government is pushing a lot of misinformation about issues such as age limits on bottom surgeries and irreversible transitions for kids under 18, but he’s heartened by the pushback from the queer community.

He's also committed to being a visible queer influence in his school that has a high number of new Canadian immigrants.

“If there were any queer kids in the class, they could see themselves reflected,” he says, “and [I can give] them a safe adult to confide in [while] they decided who they are.”

Allen, who grew up in a religious Jewish family in Alberta, says since he transitioned, he “recreated” his queer Jewish identity “from the ground up” but he’s once again finding it “complicated and messy” to reconcile both those parts of himself.

He says he feels isolated and unable to talk about his feelings regarding Israel and his Jewishness to the LGBTQ2S+ people he knows. He says the only person he really confides in is his twin sister.

Queer spaces on university campuses tend to be very progressive and pro-Palestinian and are forcing students to choose between their Jewishness and being queer, says Rabbi Seth Goren, executive director of Jewish student group Hillel Ontario, which has a presence at nine universities.

“I think that's a choice that queer Jewish students shouldn't have to make,” he says.

Six Canadian universities are facing class action lawsuits over anti-Jewish hate speech, threats against Jewish students on campus, and the silencing of Jewish voices. Many student-run groups and education-related unions have come out with strong anti-Israel statements. Toronto Metropolitan University has hired a former judge to do an investigation into whether the statements of support for Hamas from some of its law students contravene its student code of conduct.

In the past six months, there have also been numerous bomb threats and attacks against Jewish schools and community centres, as well antisemitic graffiti and a rising number of other hate crimes aimed at Jews in cities across the country. Police forces in Montreal, Toronto, and neighbouring York Region have also put more officers into their hate crimes units and set up hate-crime reporting centres in Jewish areas.

Darren Sukonick, 53, a Toronto businessman who has been involved with Jewish charities and community groups for decades, says he was surprised and disappointed at how widespread and swift anti-Jewish sentiment was across Canada after Oct. 7. He says he never thought he’d ever experience levels of hate like he’s seeing now.

“It was like being on a hike, turning over a log and seeing all this vermin crawling out from under it. That's what it felt like,” he says.

On the other hand, Sukonick says many non-Jewish friends have reached out and shown support.

Jessie says even though they’re at a university with a large Jewish population there is constantly an “uncomfortableness” living with their two intersecting identities.

Like many LGBTQ2S+ Jews, their stance on Israel is multi-faceted but they say they’re frustrated and have lost friends in the queer community who are pro-Palestinian and aren’t open to the nuances of how different Jewish people are feeling or seeing the Jewish community as anything other than homogenous “white settler colonialist.”

Jessie always wears a Star of David necklace but says now they often hide or remove it, including during their local drag king performances at which other performers have made pro-Palestinian tributes. They say they’d be “cancelled” if they shared their support for the hostages or Israeli citizens during a show.

“There's no space even for me to mourn or to acknowledge my feelings and what's happening,” they say.

Ezra, whose school has many new immigrants, says he frequently hears racist and hate speech about Jews from his Grade 7 students. If he hears it, he addresses it with the kids in an effort to get them to see different points of view.

He says the anti-Jewish language isn’t aimed at him but he still didn’t feel safe enough over the holidays to wear his blue and white Hannukah sweater to school.

Sometimes it’s easier to get out of bed and deal with all the negativity being hurled at both the trans and Jewish communities, says Ezra, and other days it takes a greater toll on his mental health.

There are, however, some Jewish queers for whom the past few months have been a time of solidarity and community building.

Non-binary artist Sadie Epstein-Fine says they are Jewish but raised as an anti-Zionist. They’re a member of a group called Jews Say No to Genocide, whose membership is almost all queer Jews. Since Oct. 7, they say they’ve been “entirely surrounded by queer Jews” in a busy, activist environment.

They admit to looking white and the privilege that brings, also recognizing that antisemitism is on the rise but saying they’ve been fortunate not to have felt it personally.

“We’re more concerned about Palestinian safety than we are about our safety,” Epstein-Fine says of their group members.