‘I’m not waiting until they come to round us up’: Transgender Jews and their families search for safety as Trump takes aim at their rights
One transgender Jew described the situation as “like 1930s Germany all over again.”
A person wears a pride-themed yarmulke in the West Village in New York City, on June 26, 2020. (Noam Galai/Getty Images)
(JTA) — After trying for five years to dissuade lawmakers in Missouri from enacting laws he believed would endanger his son and other transgender youth in the state, Russel Neiss finally admitted defeat.
The state’s ban in 2023 on transgender medical care for minors devastated Neiss, but it also came with something of an upside for him: no more sacrificing his family’s time to testify at the Missouri statehouse. No more sitting politely with his son while enduring hurtful comments from officials.
The battle was over, and it was time to find somewhere else to live — a state without legislation that could lead to loss of custody over his son, or the denial of medical care. But not just any haven for transgender youth would do. It also had to be a place where the family could continue to live as Orthodox Jews, with a synagogue that wouldn’t shun their child.
“Trying to figure out where to go, we counted 10 Orthodox communities nationwide that might accept our family,” Neiss said, noting that he consulted a list of LGBTQ-friendly congregations compiled by a group called Eshel. “There are about four places that we can afford, and maybe one place where we actually wanted to live.”
He is married to Rori Picker Neiss, who is a “rabba,” a title for Orthodox women trained in Jewish law, and works as the senior vice president for community relations Jewish Council for Public Affairs.
Their son’s bar mitzvah in April 2024 — which they made sure conformed to Orthodox standards — also served as an occasion to say goodbye to their community in Missouri. A few months later, they relocated to Pennsylvania, joining a congregation called South Philadelphia Shtiebel.
“There’s a reason we drew a mile-radius circle around Shtiebel, and were like, ‘We need a house somewhere in here,’” Neiss said. “They have built the most welcoming space I have ever been a part of. Full stop.”
It was a blissful time for the Neiss family.
“We had a solid six months of not worrying at every moment,” he said. “In Missouri, we were fighting legislation and the stress was hanging over us, day after day after day. So we were enjoying the respite.”
That respite ended in January when Donald Trump was inaugurated as president. He had run on an anti-trans platform targeting health care, athletics and social protections.
In the 11 days after his swearing-in, Trump has begun to make good on those vows. On his first day in office, he signed an executive order recognizing only two sexes, male and female, and invalidating anyone’s deviation from their sex as a “false claim” spurred by “gender ideology.” Next, he banned transgender troops from serving in the military. Exact numbers are unknown, but several thousand U.S. service members are transgender. In his executive order, Trump suggested that they are mentally or physically sick, dishonorable and selfish.
On Tuesday, he signed an executive order that aims to outlaw gender-affirming medical care for transgender youth, describing such treatments as a form of child abuse, a view that implicates both medical providers and parents.
Neiss and his family had been expecting this, and preparing for it.
“It was just a question of how much, how fast and what would they get away with?” he said. “And then, well, what do we have to do to keep our family safe and secure?”
For fear of the worst coming to pass, he declined to detail what specific measures the family might be considering.
Caution when discussing contingency plans is not unique to Neiss. One Jewish woman with a transgender child agreed to discuss her family’s preparations on condition of anonymity. Living in Colorado, the family was feeling relatively safe. That changed with the inauguration.
“We are now very scared to the point that we’re packing go-bags,” she said. “We have mapped a route to drive out of the country if something goes crazy. And we’re buying gold bullion.”
The woman, who comes from Holocaust survivors, continued, “I’m not waiting until they come to round us up. And I know that sounds hysterical, but, listen, my grandparents waited too long.”
Minors who transition can be offered therapy to help process the change, as well as social support in picking a new name and clothing. Some may take puberty blockers and at an older age, receive hormone therapy. In rare cases, doctors may administer mastectomies and genital surgery.
Gender-affirming interventions have been shown to reduce rates of self-harm and depression among transgender youth.
The nonprofit organization Keshet and other Jewish LGBTQ advocates were among those who denounced Trump’s executive orders as hateful and dangerous.
“As people who come from a tradition that sees each one of us as created in the divine image, we recognize these actions as defaming God and betraying the preciousness of life; we see these actions as motivated by people in power seeking to create a world in their narrow image — certaintly not God’s,” Keshet said in a statement following Trump’s latest action.
In social media and texting groups, LGBTQ Jews and their allies are supporting each other by sharing feelings of dismay, fear and despair. They are also consulting their communities on what measures they can take to safeguard their families. Those who may not be directly or immediately affected are offering material support.
A Jewish woman in Oregon, for example, posted that her home is available to take in transgender youth who are escaping abusive or unsafe situations. She noted that her home is “moderately kosher.” (The Jewish Telegraphic Agency is not providing her name given the sensitivity of the issue and because she did not respond to an inquiry.)
Rabbi Mike Moskowitz of Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, which bills itself as the world’s largest LGBTQ synagogue, posted a video message for transgender Jews on the synagogue’s Instagram page.
“For those of you who feel scared or alone, we see you, we love you,” Moskowitz said. “God doesn’t put extra people in this world — we need you.”
In Chicago, where transgender rights are relatively secure, Danielle Solzman, a freelance film critic who is transgender, is considering immigrating to Israel. For her health care, she relies on Medicaid, which is a federal program and therefore run by the Trump administration. Trump has so far not targeted gender-affirming care for those, including Solzman, who are 19 years old and over.
“If things get worse, as I expect they will. It’s going to give me no choice but to move to Israel, where the treatment I need is accessible,” she said in an interview.
Solzman was already considering moving there, but for a different reason.
“Right after Oct. 7, it was going to be antisemitism that would force me into moving, not federally mandated transphobia,” she said. “Trump is not looking at trans people as being human. He’s looking at us as being subhuman. It’s like 1930s Germany all over again.”
Several lawmakers in Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government are openly anti-LGBTQ rights, but Netanyahu has vowed to block them from advancing discriminatory legislation. The country scores relatively high on LGBTQ legal rights compared to the rest of the world, according to an index by a group called Equaldex, which says Israel is among 28 countries where gender-affirming care is legal. With the country’s universal healthcare system, Israelis generally have access to many kinds of treatments, including hormone replacement therapy.
In the United States, the policy effects of Trump’s executive orders are still mostly uncertain, and they have no direct or immediate impact on Neiss’ son. But the message they send is clear to Neiss.
“The order suggests that living as a trans person — that my son’s entire existence is up for debate, and that is unconscionable,” he said. “When you start talking about people as lesser than or as inhuman, that’s language which puts people at risk.”
Neiss is also disappointed that the historical echo of Nazism he hears in Trump’s rhetoric isn’t spurring more alarm among mainstream Jewish leaders.
“The dominant Jewish community has nothing to say on this particular issue, and it is a huge moral failing,” he said.
Transgender rights are not at the center of the mainstream Jewish advocacy agenda. Many left-leaning Jewish groups, however, have at minimum criticized efforts to ban transgender women and girls from participating in women’s sports. In January, before the inauguration, more than 100 groups — including the umbrella organization for Reform Judaism, the Conservative Rabbinical Assembly, the leading Reconstructionist Jewish groups and the National Council of Jewish Women — signed a letter opposing a transgender sports ban bill in Congress.
Neiss and his wife don’t immediately update their 13-year-old son with every news headline. As with many parents in difficult circumstances, the Neisses want to deliver the unvarnished truth without sparking panic in their son.
“We’ve made sure that he’s gotten the love and support that he needs and so we can be truthful with him,” Neiss said “Then we tell him, ‘We got your back.’ And he says, ‘I know it,’ because he believes it.”
A message from our Publisher & CEO Rachel Fishman Feddersen
I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning, nonprofit journalism so that we can be prepared for whatever news 2025 brings.
At a time when other newsrooms are closing or cutting back, the Forward has removed its paywall and invested additional resources to report on the ground from Israel and around the U.S. on the impact of the war, rising antisemitism and polarized discourse.
Readers like you make it all possible. Support our work by becoming a Forward Member and connect with our journalism and your community.
— Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO
