Drag Shabbat
Written by Gabriel - Colorado, USA
As the June sun set over Denver’s Cheesman Park, I stepped in front of the crowd, struck my pose, and began to pray.
Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha-olam asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik neir shel Shabbat.
As my fiery orange wig touches the sky and my six-inch heels sank into the grass, I began my drag Shabbat to raise money for the queer community.
I found my place in drag before I found my place in Judaism. But they have grown together for me with the same ferver and passion, to reach the end goal of social change and creating a safer, more peaceful, and just world.
I was 11 when I began performing in drag. I found the queer community and came out as gender fluid. While drag was always a place of joy and belonging for me, the rest of the world did not see it that way. On the way to my shows, I hid in my parents’ backseat to avoid the Proud Boys and neo-Nazis protesting me. As my journey continued, I decided to dedicate myself to eradicating this hate and helping other queer people find their place in a community.
As I’ve grown, my great grandfather Henry Wohlfarth became an integral part of my life. He was a Jewish man who escaped Nazi Germany during the Holocaust. As I faced my own threats and fears, his strength inspired me. I have a picture of him impeccably dressed next to my wardrobe. As I have struggled with my own body issues, I look to him and think about putting on the kind of armor he must have worn as a Jew in a hateful society.
Over the past three years, as my voice for social activism grew larger, I have fallen in love with my Judaism and my great-grandfather’s culture. I have started to attend services, learn Hebrew, and present prayers with my queer Havurah (community). This year I had the honor of holding the Torah on Yom Kippur at my synagogue B'nai Havurah.
As I have found my place in the Jewish community, I have realized how much Judaism and drag intersect. Both of the communities have been forged through oppression and yet have found ways to flourish. And both are about telling a story. In Judaism, I get to tell the amazing story of how the world and Jewish people found peace. In drag, I get to perform a story in order to bring and fight for that same peace. And, to be honest, both feature pretty dope costumes.
As a high school student, my world has not always been kind to me, but finding a place in both of these communities, I have something to look forward to in the people, the traditions, and the social activism of these worlds.
It’s why now I am fusing the rituals and practices of drag and Judaism to bring light, worship, and tell amazing stories.
That’s what I did when I created and hosted the open-air drag Shabbat this summer. As I danced and prayed, more and more people wandered over. We consumed challah and drank grape juice. We read Torah and analyzed scripture. We sang songs like “May I Be Empty.” One passerby asked to speak, telling the crowd that a queer person of faith, the event made them feel seen.
At the end of the celebration, we raised $2,000 for GoFundMes for queer families.
It made me think of my great-grandfather and his Judaism. I believe he would be proud that I carry on our legacy.
