Transgender Jews might not be news ~ Pride Torah V

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אבִינוּ שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַיִם / שֶׁעָשִׂיתָ נִסִּים לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ בָּאֵשׁ וּבַמַּיִם / הָפַכְתָּ אוּר כַּשְׂדִים לְבַל תִּשְׂרֹף בְּחֻמָּהּ / וְהָפַכְתָּ דִּינָה בִּמְעֵי אִמָּהּ / וְהָפַכְתָּ הַמַּטֶה נָחָשׁ לְעֵינֵי אַלְפֵי רִבְבָן / וְהָפַכְתָּ הַיָּד הַטְּהוֹרָה לָבָן / וְהָפַכְתָּ יַם סוּף לְיַבָּשָׁה / וְקַרְקַע הַיָּם אֶרֶץ נְגוּבָה וְקָשָׁה / הַהוֹפְכִי הַצּוֹר אֲגַם מַיִם / חַלָּמִישׁ לְמַעְיְנוֹ מָיִם / מִי יִתֵּן וְתַהְפְכֵנִי מִזָּכָר לִנְקֵבָה! / אִלּוּ זָכִיתִי לְכָךְ כַּמָּה חֲנַנְתַּנִי טוֹבָה / גְּבֶרֶת הַבַּיִת הָיִיתִי וְחָנִיתִי לְבֵיתִי מִצָּבָא / וּמָה אֲדַבֵּר וּמָה אֹמַר / לָמָּה אֶבְכֶּה וְלָמָּה אֶתְמַרְמָר / אִם אָבִי שֶׁבַּשָּׁמַיִם גָּזַר עָלַי / וְנָתַן בִּי מוּם קָבוּעַ אִי אֶפְשָׁר לַהֲסִירוֹ מֵעָלָי / וְהַדְּאָגָה בְּמַה שֶּׁאִי אֶפְשָׁר כְּאֵב אָנוּשׁ וָחֵבֶל / וְלֹא יוֹעִילוּ בָהּ תַּנְחוּמִין שֶׁל הֶבֶל / אָמַרְתִּי אֶשָּׂא וְאֶסְבֹּל / עַד אֶגְוַע וְאֶבֹּל / וְאַחַר שֶׁכָּךְ לָמַדְתִּי מִפִּי הַשְּׁמוּעָה / שֶׁמְּבָרְכִין עַל הַטּוֹבָה וְעַל הָרָעָה / אֲבָרֵךְ בְּקוֹל נָמוּךְ בְּשָׂפָה חֲלוּשָׁה / בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ שֶׁלֹּא עָשַׂנִי אִשָּׁה.

Even Bohan, Kalonymus ben Kalonymus

What an awful fate for my mother / that she bore a son. What a loss of all benefit!...Cursed be the one who announced to my father: "It's a boy! . . . "Woe to him who has male sons / Upon them a heavy yoke has been placed / restrictions and constraints. Some in private, some in public / some to avoid the mere appearance of violation / and some entering the most secret of places.Strong statutes and awesome commandments / six hundred and thirteen / who is the man who can do all that is written / so that he might be spared?Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead - a fair woman. Today I would be wise and insightful. We would weave, my friends and I / and in the moonlight spin our yarn / and tell our stories to one another / from dusk till midnight / we'd tell of the events of our day, silly things / matters of no consequence.But also I would grow very wise from the spinning / and I would say, "Happy is she who know how to work with combed flax and weave it into fine white linen."And at times, in the way of women, I would lie down on the kitchen floor, between the ovens, turn the coals, and taste the different dishes. On holidays I would put on my best jewelry. I would beat on the drum / and my clapping hands would ring. And when I was ready and the time was right / an excellent youth (husband) would be my fortune.He would love me, place me on a pedestal /dress me in jewels of gold / earrings, bracelets, necklaces.And on the appointed day, in the season of joy when brides are wed, for seven days would the boy increase my delight and gladness. Were I hungry, he would feed me well-kneaded bread. Were I thirsty, he would quench me with light and dark wine. He would not chastise nor harshly treat me, and my [sexual] pleasure he would not diminish / every Shabbath, and each new moon / his head would rest upon my breast.The three husbandly duties he would fulfill / rations, raiment, and regular intimacy. And three wifely duties would I also fulfill, [watching for menstrual] blood, [Sabbath candle] lights, and bread. . .

Father in heaven / who did miracles for our ancestors / with fire and water / You changed the fire of Chaldees so it would not burn hot / You changed Dina in the womb of her mother to a girl / You changed the staff to a snake before a million eyes / You changed (Moses') hand to (leprous) white / and the sea to dry land. In the desert you turned rock to water / hard flint to a fountain.Who would then turn me from a man to woman? Were I only to have merited this / being so graced by goodness ... What shall I say? why cry or be bitter? If my father in heaven has decreed upon me / and has maimed me with an immutable deformity / then I do not wish to remove it. the sorrow of the impossible / is a human pain that nothing will cure / and for which no comfort can be found. So, I will bear and suffer / until I die and wither in the ground. Since I have learned from our tradition / that we bless both, the good and the bitter / I will bless in a voice / hushed and weak / Blessed are you God / who has not made me a woman. Translated by Rabbi Steve Greenberg

~ Kalonymus ben Kalonymus ben Meir aka Maestro Calo (Arles, France, 1286 – died after 1328). He translated 29 works, and wrote 4 original works. Among them is Even Boḥan, an ethical treatise composed in the year 1322. The treatise is written in cadenced prose. The author intended in the Even Boḥan to show the perversities of their contemporaries, as well as their own. They pass in review all the social positions of which men are proud, and argues they are vanity. At the end he enumerates the sufferings of Israel and expresses the hope that God will have pity on His people who, in the three years (1319-22) during which time the Even Boḥan was written, had suffered persecution at the hands of the shepherds and of the leprous, besides an auto-da-fé of the Talmud at Toulouse. The book also contains a poem expressing Kalonymus's lament at being born a man and desire to be a woman. The Even Boḥan was first published at Naples in 1489, and passed through many editions. It was twice translated into German, first by Moses Eisenstadt, or, according to Joseph Zedner, by Katzenellenbogen (Sulzbach, 1705), and then in cadenced prose by W. Meisel (Budapest, 1878).

Forvorts, November 19, 1936, "At 23, The Girl Became(?) a Young Man"

Worthy Editor:
Not long ago I read a story in the Forverts that took place in America, about how a girl became a man. But that’s not news to the people in the town where I’m from. Permit me to tell the story in your paper. In our shtetl of Krivozer, Ukraine, everyone knew Beyle, the girl who sold herring, geese, and other foodstuffs. She was a tall redhead and sturdily built. She also spoke with a deep bass voice and walked about with hard and heavy steps. The way she carried herself always brought forth an uncertain feeling: something like, she’s not quite a woman, but also not quite a man. When she was still a child, her father would often take her to see the Tolner Rebbe, Reb Dovidl, and sometimes to the Sadigura Rebbe, to ask for help. The only answer he ever got was “God will help, God will help.” The father would return home anguished and unhappy. In the meantime, the years flew by and Beyle grew, too, until she reached the age of 23. One fine morning, Beyle left for Odessa, where she was introduced to an important professor. She spent a long time under his care, under which Beyle eventually became a man. The story was well known and was in all the papers—all Russia talked of it. In the shtetl, we waited impatiently for her return. And on the day when Beyle was to arrive, half the shtetl ran to the bridge to greet her, or better said, to greet him. And she wasn’t called Beyle anymore: Now she was Berel. And when we saw “her,” it was as if we were stunned: Before our eyes was a handsome, healthy, redheaded man. Anyone who didn’t know Beyle previously would never have known that he had been a girl. From then on in the shtetl, “she” was called Berel-Beyle. With the help of the professor, the government freed him from military service. Berel-Beyle soon learned to daven and was in synagogue every day. Later on, he got married to an old girlfriend, Black Rachel, who was a nice girl. In our shtetl, Berel-Beyle always had a good name as a fine, upstanding Jew.

Yeshaye Katovski
2817 West 32nd St., Brooklyn, New York

Trans. Eddy Portnoy