Unformatted text preview: ice continued. On the way out of the synagogue, we had to
file by the rabbi, who was shaking everyone's hand.
"Albert," he said to me, peering up through what would later be known as John
Lennon glasses."Hoowahyoo? You've got the beard, so now you're Jesus Christ?"
I've done my time as an evangelist. Twelve years in the Church of Scientology,
and later, when I had escaped Hubbard's minions, four or five years as a reluctant
poster child for the world's fledgling transgender movement.
My mother never heard the bllJe-haired ladies ask "Hoowahyoo?"of the talI-talI
woman with mascara running down her cheeks. She never heard a producer from the
Ricki Lake show ask me, "Who are you?"when I told her I wasn't a man or a woman.
My mother never heard the Philadelphia society IT}atron me the same question
when I tried to attend her private women-onlyAlcoholicsAnonymous group.
My mother only once asked me, "Who are you?" It was about a week...
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- Spring '14
- Who Are You, Rabbi, Kate Bornstein, Amy Levy