n>Growing up, I enjoyed celebrating Jewish holidays with my family and attending Hebrew school at our Reconstructionist synagogue in Manhattan. But when I left home for college in 1961, I also left behind any interest in Judaism. This rejection reflected both a late adolescent rebelliousness and the tenor of 1960s activism in which I engaged. Moreover, coming out before Stonewall, I knew that there was no place in midcentury Jewish life for a gay man. In an unrelievedly heterosexual and family-centered world, anyone nonconforming in any way, whether by choice or circumstance, was the object of pity or scorn. I wanted neither. Read Full Article »