art & poetry
I peek around the curtain at 4:30 on a Friday and find tzitzit in place of a hospital gown, He insists I don’t retreat, but instead tell him Where I learned of Shabbos Caught off-guard, I decide the simplest version of truth is, “I’m half Jewish,” lacking foresight for the obligate follow-up— "Which half?" Boiling down more than maple syrup farmers, “Not the half you care about.” Which draws a chuckle and knowing nod. We are on the same page: My father. We are not on the same page: I have no father. The woman I was named for Was not allowed to marry a Jew I realize this while eating honey cake at 4am. A mid-morning snack, thanks to Migraine-induced jetlag— Perhaps another Birthright From those question mark chromosomes Sequenced as Ashkenazi.
In services I know the words, but not the tunes by heart, Once again only Half the unsung story. Taught by listening each Friday to another's attempts to Pencil-in history’s pink eraser mark scars. Like so much of religion, Her child’s blessing felt a performative farce— The only time for developmentally appropriate expectations. I wonder what she’d think of my own fingertip tracing leading me here. I don’t ask,
But when she unexpectedly mails me a chunk of New Year’s sweet, It goes in the cupboard, not trash, With a berakhah For the bees.
Poet: Teddy G. Goetz (they/them or he/him), age 27, is an overly enthusiastic nonbinary transmasc, queer, neurodivergent, chronically ill, Jewish psychiatry resident, writer, photographer, athlete, and research dork. Their goal (as both an artist and a doctor) is to help people feel seen. Their prior training includes an MD, an MS in gender-affirming hormone therapy, and BS in biochemistry and gender studies, focusing on interdisciplinary scientific research informed by individual embodied experiences. More about their scholarly and artistic work can be found at teddygoetz.com.
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