Living in Two Worlds - Not Always A Choice
My partner and I were married in Massachusetts in the summer of 1996.
I was the rabbi of a synagogue about 60 miles away and my partner worked for a youth organization in Rhode Island. Since Rhode Island had no employment discrimination protection for lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgendered people, we kept our usual low profile. When I had told the president of my congregation of my upcoming wedding a month or two before, he expressed some concern about what congregants might think, but when we returned to work wearing wedding rings congregants and co-workers congratulated us warmly. Despite the level of secrecy, we enjoyed the glow that marriage brings.
Our joy was marred, however, by the passage of the Defense of Marriage Act by a large majority in both houses of the U.S. Congress. DOMA provides that no federal benefits may accrue to same-sex couples, even if their unions are recognized by the state in which they live. It allows states not to recognize same-sex marriages or unions performed in other states.
For us, the issue of federal benefits was and is at the heart of our status. My partner was born and raised in the Caribbean, and though she spent 15 years legally in the United States she never attained permanent resident (green card) status. 1996 was also the year that Congress passed sweeping immigration restrictions. We quickly came to realize that a future in the United States was not guaranteed for our family.
The status of same-sex couples under U.S. immigration law is nonexistent. Though heterosexual U.S. citizens can marry and bring partners into the country, gay citizens cannot. Therefore, our relationship has no legal status under immigration law.
I used to say that the worst-case scenario was a bright future in another country. In 2000, at great financial cost, we came to the end of my partner’s efforts to secure permanent residency status through her work. Our lawyer advised us that my partner should leave the country for a time. We decided to move to Israel. We were given wings to fly by the family, friends and community who gathered and helped us leave our home.
In Israel, we face a completely different situation. While we both became Israeli citizens under the law of return, had one of us not qualified the other would have been able to bring her. Israel is one of 19 countries with same-sex partner immigration rights. We have benefited further from other rights, such as mortgage benefits for new immigrants. Employment nondiscrimination based on sexual orientation is the law here as well.
We also have benefited from nondiscrimination in fertility treatments from Israel’s national health system. We have not encountered one instance of discrimination or heard one unkind word, and we now have two beautiful children.
The press has given much coverage to the controversy over the Jerusalem gay pride parade. Our move out of Jerusalem was in part a response to that. There certainly is strong religious opposition to public acceptance of LGBT people in Israel and there also is a strong cultural trend toward privacy, which can contribute to a feeling of invisibility. These drawbacks are outweighed overwhelmingly by living in a country that offers us a measure of legal protection.
The last U.S. census showed 36,000 binational same-sex couples. Many are forced to make such heartbreaking choices as whether or not to live together, whether one partner should stay in the United States as an illegal alien, and so on. The Uniting American Families Act has been introduced in Congress every year since we left the country. It mandates that citizens in same-sex partnerships be able to petition for their partners to gain permanent residency. If the UAFA is voted into law, we will have the option of returning to the United States. In the meantime, we face the blessings, challenges, and contradictions of living in Israel.
Rabbi Gail Diamond, the assistant director of the Conservative Yeshiva at the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism’s Fuchsberg Jerusalem Center, lives with her family in Tzur Hadassah.
