You must fulfill what has crossed your lips and perform what you have voluntarily vowed to the Eternal Your God, having made the promise with your own mouth. – Devarim 23:24

This time last year I wrote a letter offering loving feedback to cisgender allies to be louder in support of trans rights. Over the last year the attacks on trans, nonbinary, and intersex people have gotten worse, so I’m here again asking you to promise to take action and recommit yourself to fighting for trans justice.

This week’s parasha, Ki Teitzei, lists over 70 mitzvot. Among them are several revolving around finding something of your neighbor’s—

If you see your fellow Israelite’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it; you must take it back to your peer. If your fellow Israelite does not live near you or you do not know who [the owner] is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your peer claims it; then you shall give it back. You shall do the same with their donkey; you shall do the same with their garment; and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow Israelite loses and you find: you must not remain indifferent. (Devarim 22:1-3)

I’m struck by the emphasis of care in these verses. In fact many of the mitzvot in this whole chapter speak to extending compassion and mitigating harm. 

A question that came up for me while reading this section was: what do I feel like is lost right now that my neighbors can help retrieve? Immediately my mind went to trans rights. 

Across the country we are seeing upticks in anti-trans legislation. Last year for the first time anti-LGBTQ+ bills, with the majority targeting trans, nonbinary, and intersex people, hit quadruple digits and this year it’s likely to be the same—and surpassing last year’s final count. As midterm elections roll around, anti-trans sentiments are making their way onto billboards and into social media ads. It’s going to take all hands on deck to break through the flurry of anti-trans hate coming down the pipeline. 

This means for those who hold more privilege—our cisgender allies—your voices need to be loud. If you find that you are not in immediate danger of having your rights stripped away— having your healthcare disappear, having your driver’s license and passports revoked, or not being able to use a restroom outside of your home—it’s imperative you help your trans neighbors regain and maintain these basic human rights. 

I love the last verse above in particular because to me it’s saying whatever it is your community member doesn’t have that you happened to find, you must ensure they get it. And to be clear, this isn’t saying you can’t hold onto your ox or donkey, but you have a role to play in making sure your neighbor gets what should belong to them as well. Further what Rashi, one of the most famous biblical and talmudic commentators, says about this is, “You must not cover your eyes, pretending not to see it.” Once you’re aware of the inequalities trans, nonbinary, and intersex members of your communities are facing, to look away would be a Chillul Hashem, a desecration of the Holy One. 

When we are awakened to the realities of injustice, we can’t look away. We must take action. We must not remain indifferent. 

Later on in Ki Teitzei, we get a glimpse of what solidarity and allyship should—or perhaps should not—look like. Moses continues his speech to the Israelites sharing what God told him, which is that they will never be able to coexist with members of a few particular tribes. The reasoning? Because they did not show up for the Israelites after they left Egypt and because of the misdeeds of a few individuals. Then Moses says God has declared that the people must wait three generations before they can engage with some other tribes because of a set of different circumstances.

First, I want to point out that at this point these directives are not coming directly from God, but from Moses, who while a tremendous leader is still of human mind. Second, these mandates feel pretty transactional which I have to be honest, I do not vibe with. 

What we’ve learned from liberation movements throughout history is that coalition building is far more likely to help us reach our goals than isolation. That doesn’t mean it’s always easy, but it is what’s necessary. 

Transactional solidarity is more like being a spectator and a bystander or a mildly interested participant. Transformative solidarity requires us to challenge ourselves rather than stay in comfortable bubbles, to figure out what we are willing to risk, to deepen relationships rather than walk away when they become hard, to commit for the long-term, and to disrupt the status quo. -Deepa Iyer

Transformative solidarity is the tool that will help us build a world where we can all thrive. 

I’d also be remiss not to name that the Jewish community and LGBTQ+ community are not mutually exclusive. LGBTQ+ Jews are here. Solidarity within our communities is just as important as solidarity among our communities and movements more broadly.

I want to highlight the last one last section towards the end of this week’s parasha—

When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—in order that the Eternal your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat down the fruit of your olive trees, do not go over them again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. Always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment. —Devarim 24:19-22

Once again, we find ourselves amidst mitzvot where memory, compassion, and equality are present and ever entwined. In the words of the Baal Shem Tov, “In remembrance lies the secret of redemption.” 

Jewish tradition calls on us to remember when we were stuck in the narrow place, and says we are obligated to offer loving-kindness to those in our community who continue to face narrowness. The Jewish people know all too well what it’s like to be persecuted, scapegoated, and be the target fascist regimes. While the attacks on trans, nonbinary, and intersex people continue to rise, it is our moral obligation to take action, meeting this moment with fierce love.

And this brings me back to the verse at the very beginning about keeping promises. Hannah Arendt says, “Promises are the uniquely human way of ordering the future.” 

In this month of Elul, the month that brings us to the High Holy Days, I ask you to promise to fight for a world where everyone can be exactly who they are. I ask you to promise to work for a world where all people have access to basic human rights and have access to everything they need to thrive. I ask you to promise you’ll join us in celebrating our beautiful and sacred trans, nonbinary, and intersex siblings. And lastly, I ask you not just to promise, but to follow through, until the day we can all truly be free.