I feel most sure of my gender identity and presentation when it melds with my Jewish cultural identity.

After that initial Zoom bat mitzvah, it became clear that my own celebration would look the same.

Aunt Barbara gave me the opportunity to forge my own Jewish identity, with the help of a simple, silver, Star of David.

I was dubbed “femenistit masricha,” a smelly feminist, on the first day of seventh grade. I kind of liked it. 

I hadn’t thought much at all about why I engaged with Judaism—or even why I was Jewish beyond having been born that way.

Feminism does not require that all women are the same and should react in the same manner to misogyny.

Religion and art are both about turning individual experiences into community ones.

Being Jewish, Chinese, and American has fed my aspiration to ensure that more non-traditional Jewish people feel comfortable with their identities.

As we progress and amend our traditions, we can take wisdom from past rulings to benefit the Feminist cause.

I lead a life filled with Jewish meaning, and I shouldn’t have to untangle that from the other identities I hold.

I realized that my faults with Judaism stemmed from men’s interpretations of how women should behave, not actual law.

Women can only access Judaism's power when we enter a space that allows us to engage with tradition in the way we see fit.

Twelve years later, "Miss Rumphius'" message of exploring faraway places to find community still resonate with me.

This is the beauty of Judaism: when one connects with others from different denominations, merging can be amazing.

Nothing is lost by encouraging and enabling different ways of accessing spirituality. If anything, people will learn a new tradition along the way.

My ADHD gave me a constant desire for emotional escape, which allowed me to enter a world where I learned about my Jewish foremothers.

The one thing all traditional golem depictions have in common is their sanctity. However, this most important facet has practically disappeared from the media.  

What’s frightening about 2001 film, "The Believer,"  is that struggling with the idea of God as all-powerful is far from a unique experience.

The British Library shares a fifteenth-century prayer book commissioned by a father to his daughter, Maraviglia, a testament to women’s participation in fifteenth-century Italian Jewish ritual life.

Slowly, I have come to understand that my connection to Judaism doesn’t need to be a linear path. I experience days of doubt, times of radiant joy, and moments of deep guilt.