In the mid 2000s, I applied for a pulpit position in a very conservative part of the country. I had been ordained three years prior, and had not received a single full-time job offer. I pursued this position in part because my partner’s father was from the area and she had many, many wonderfully loving relatives living there.
I was met at the airport by the synagogue’s search chair. He told me that he was excited about my candidacy, as he really hoped the congregation would offer me a job and prove that they were not a bunch of rednecks. I knew my time with these folks was going to be challenging.
At the synagogue, the first person I met asked me if I talked about being gay in all of my sermons. I responded that I usually talked about the Torah portion, not my sexuality. Another person asked if in my previous jobs, I was allowed to work with children. I was so stunned, I just looked at the person with a blank stare.
When I finally got around to meeting with the committee, the questions were irrelevant and even offensive. I was grateful when someone asked me about my favorite professional basketball team, a sport I had not followed since the 1970s. “I was a fan of the New York Knicks when I was a teenager,” I said, not revealing that it was because my dad was a Knicks fan; “I’m sure I could become a fan of the local team if that’s important to the community.” I wondered what presumptions were going through their heads when they asked a lesbian rabbinical candidate about sports. Did straight women get those questions?
Needless to say, I was not offered the job. A wonderful colleague did, who, after a few years, came out of the closet and married her female partner. They got a lesbian rabbi after all.
Rabbi Robin Nafshi serves Temple Beth Jacob in Concord, New Hampshire. Her partner, Cantor Shira Nafshi, also serves Temple Beth Jacob.
