“Oy Gevalt! We should create a Queer, Jewish zine,” we all shrieked in unison, one boozy night at Oxford’s Jewish Society. As we all know, all the best decisions are decided around a cramped gossipy Friday night table. This same setting has previously convinced one of us to get a new piercing or ‘make a move’ on that friend or apply for a jarring job or break up with a toxic partner, but the best one thus far was: between slurps of the boiling hot vegetarian soup, to create a Jewish, Queer/nonbinary/female led zine.
We formed the idea from a conversation about our pride for our culture. Our backgrounds deem us to not be exclusively Anglo but rather have a whole other world that we were raised in. Round that table, some of us had had exclusively Jewish schooling whilst others had never been to a Jewish school. Some of us spent our summers at camp being raised by Jewish madrichim whilst others spent it with their families. Some of us grew up at youth movements on the weekend and some others had better things to do with their Sunday afternoons. Made up of different practising backgrounds, we were all united by a pride and joy for our Judaism that we felt as though we could not express through other publications.
Yente strives to embody and give a platform to the left wing diaspora. Recently in the United Kingdom, due to a rise in antisemitism within the Labour party and amongst other leftist groups, it has been difficult for some students to navigate being both left wing and Jewish. Luckily the Oxford Jewish society is extremely welcoming, but in other spheres of life, hanging out with traditional Jewish groups can often feel a bit constrictive if one is LGBTQ+. Our demographic is both Queer and Jewish, meaning it can be hard to exist in progressive spaces which have deeprooted antisemitism; we should not have to sacrifice one part of our identity in order to fulfill another. There is often a palpable taboo around practising a religion, people claim that religion is inherenty homophobic or you are so naieve, if you believe in G-d or are simply agnostic. Anyways we have Cher…isn’t that enough?
However, Yente provides us with the platform to discuss and share the intersection of our Jewish and Queer culture. There is a vibrant student publication culture at Oxford; we have several student newspapers such as the Cherwell and the Student.There are other feminist zines such as Cuntry Living, yet we still felt as though we needed a home for the intersection of our Jewish and Queer/minority gender identities. There is something intrinsically empowering about producing identity pieces and knowing that they will be edited by people who share that specific identity. We are at the core of our work.
We decided that a zine would be the best type of publication. Zines are a creative outlet for students to take a breath from their whirlwind schedules. They cater towards multiple forms of expression, which automatically stand out from the risk of exclusive student newspaper pretentiousness. The first edition will include a plethora of mediums: ranging from QR codes linked to music sets to self-reflective modern day sermons.
The first meeting for the zine took place in a pub. Although we started with a blank page, we finished with a collective made up of different working teams, complete with a manifesto. In this meeting we decided that our project would not be just a zine but rather a community which would host events with queer rabbis, speakers from complex backgrounds, movie screenings, and a launch event. It was perhaps our shouting out of Maimonides’ “13 Principles of the Zine” that scared the couple sitting next to us out of the pub. Nonetheless, we decided that our first zine would be in time for Purim; reclaiming Vashti as our heroine, we would focus the first edition around her, with subsequent issues highlighting other silenced Jewish figures. We chose the theme “identity//false identity” and we named it “Shalom Vashti G*ls.’” That was probably the first (and last) Jewish, Queer Zine that the pub ‘Jude the Obscure’ ever saw.
The name, “Shalom Vashti G*ls.’” however, was not quite right. We wanted something simpler, sleeker, snappier, which would represent our content. The name suggestions ranged from Mishpokhe to Nosh to Dina to Mishuguas to Ruach to Devorah to Dinah to Chaim until someone finally asked “Does anyone know how you say gossip in Yiddish?”
Yes: “A Yente is A busybody gossip or vulgar person,” someone read off their phone.
“Oy gevalt” for the second time! There was an instant consensus that ‘Yente’ would be the name, for that’s who we all are. In marginalised communities, gossip serves the evolutionary function of connecting otherwise strangers and creating a form of intimacy; gossip is also about survival. Throughout history, gossip has empowered both Queer members within heteronormative society and Jewish people within secular societies to understand whose part of the ‘tribe’ and who is a threat , especially if they are trying to blend into a certain mould. Gossip is a groups’ own type of language, instilling belonging and understanding.
Within the LGBTQ+ community at Oxford, gossip has been an automatic way into a friendship for many friendless people. Most of the time gossip is not in fact negative but rather can serve as a directory of: who is LGBTQ+, what has so and so been up to, do you think that lecturer is queer? And although Judaism condemns lashon harah, or negative speech, we all agreed that specific memories do come to mind when one say ‘gossip’: whether it was yourself being a Yente at the bar at Tuesgays, Oxford’s queer night out, or that time you pressed your ear against the door to hear your mom’s phone conversation about that sibling with your bubbe. Dor l’dor as they say.
We want to reclaim the negative trope of being a nosey busybody and instead, embrace both our own inner ‘Yente’ spirit and celebrate the yentes of the world who have raised us.
Yente is not merely about publishing an issue but establishing a micro-community. Within a couple weeks of our launch, many other students have reached out saying they want to contribute or join the committee but have never felt Jewish enough to do so. Their family wasn’t practising and their identities were interlaced with the shame of being different. However, as Yente, we respond that if you self-identify as Jewish in anyway and are queer or of a minority gender, that is enough: we want you to be involved. We include anyone who identifies with the zine’s values and wants to be part of a new community. Each edition will have a theme which is inspired by a Jewish festival or figure but the content will be a modern interpretation of how that idea manifests in the diaspora. Yente seeks to create a Jewish and Queer creative oasis which both expands our academic understanding and provides a space for people to unleash our creative identity.
After only two weeks the zine has over 600 followers on the Instagram, infographics featuring Barbara Streisand , Ben Platt and King Princess, over 100 people on the contributors group, three socials, a reading group with a queer rabbi to look forward to, many submissions for our Purim edition and four different working groups. We don’t know what the derech of this zine will be yet but we are all excited to see the path that Yente has already started to create for themselves.
”And Just Like That,’” in 2022 Carrie Bradshaw’s words,Yente, a Jewish Queer collective was born.
Yente is taking submissions for their Purim 5782 edition from across the diaspora until February 18th. If you’d like to send in your work to Yente, you can view their submission form here. You can also follow Yente on Instagram and Facebook for updates about when their first issue goes live.
