Coming Out of Your Closet, Even if It's Not Rainbow-Colored

Ash Beckham is a lesbian and an LGBTQ-rights advocate.  In September, she presented at a TED talk in Boulder, Colorado on the topic of "Coming Out of Your Closet." (note: one inadvertently PG-rated image appears at 9:37, but it's significant to the context of the talk)

The idea of "coming out of the closet" is usually spoken of in the context of the LGBTQ community.  But as Beckham points out, the metaphor is apt for any of us who are keeping a secret, who are sitting on information that they may be concerned about sharing with others.

Beckham cautions against drawing comparisons between the challenges we face and the challenges others face.  For instance, some may fear having a conversation about being in financial distress; others might be nervous about a medical diagnosis.  "Hard is not relative," Beckham notes, "hard is hard."  Yet we can commiserate on the fact that we all, at one point or another in our lives, have experienced "hard," and we can all appreciate that, whatever our personal closets may look like, "a closet is no place for a person to truly live."

In the Torah portion for this Shabbat, Parashat VaYigash, we find that Joseph has been living in his own closet.  Having risen to second-in-command of Egypt, he has put aside the attire of his youth, and many of the customs as well, adapting to the Egyptian way of life.  In so doing, he has become virtually unrecognizable to his brothers.  Now, as he reveals himself to them, they are dumbfounded, and Joseph himself is so emotionally overcome that he weeps loudly and uncontrollably.

In next week's portion, Parashat VaYechi, Joseph will be reunited with his father, Jacob.  Jacob exclaims, ראה פניך לא פללתי ra'oh panecha lo pallalti- "I did not ever dream that I would see your face [again]."  The early 20th century satirist Gerson Rosenzweig opined that this was not only because Jacob had become convinced that Joseph was dead, but also because even once it was revealed that Joseph was alive in Egypt, Jacob was certain that Joseph would be unrecognizable in his Egyptian costume.  The masks we wear can sometimes obscure our true selves.

Yet Joseph has had the courage to "come out of his closet"- to end the charade and reconcile with his brothers for the sake of the family and its future survival.  And perhaps what we can learn- from Joseph and from Ash Beckham- is that as daunting and frightening as it may seem, it is better to open that door and take a step outside than it is to cower in the darkness.

Beckham offers three rules for having the difficult conversations that can take us out of our closets:
1. Be authentic- certainly Joseph succeeds here.  He lays his emotions bare, so much so that "his sobs were so loud that all the Egyptians could hear."
2. Be direct- again, Joseph has got it covered.  "I am Joseph," he proclaims, "Is our father still living?"
3. Be unapologetic- in reuniting with his brothers, Joseph extends a hand in peace, telling them that they need not feel ashamed or sorrowful for selling him into slavery, since it all ended up working out positively.  But never does he apologize for who he was as a youth- or for all the times he bugged and pestered them- which made them hatch the plot in the first place.  Beckham opines that it is actually OK to apologize for what we've done, but that people should never feel forced to apologize for who they are.

So how about it?  Can we learn from Beckham's and Joseph's examples?  Can we find the courage to emerge from the closets- whatever shape or color they may be- that have been concealing our true selves?

Courage...

When we think of the Exodus from Egypt, we often recount the midrashic tale of Nachshon ben Amminadav.  According to the rabbis, when the Israelites reached the shore of the Sea of Reeds, Moses raised his staff, as God had instructed, in order to make the waters part.  But nothing happened.  With the sea roiling before them, and Pharaoh's charioteers quickly approaching the rear of the camp, the people began to panic.  But Nachshon, the rabbis say, found the bravery to tread into the water, though the sea had not yet split.  He waded in up to his knees, then his waist, then his nose.  And slowly, people found themselves inclined to follow, and their collective show of faith in God finally made the waters part.


Certainly, it took courage for Nachshon to take those first steps.  But what of the second Israelite who followed him?  What of the final Israelite who stepped onto the dry seabed, seeing the Egyptians in hot pursuit?


Not all of us will be the trailblazers.  But whether we undertake a task for the first time or the fiftieth, we can have pride in our accomplishments.  For even the smallest action may represent an act of courage and faith.  Having the courage to be different, to face a challenge, and to innovate, changes us.  We transform from being mere spectators watching the world go by to being significant contributors, working in partnership with God to make this world a better place.

Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers. The round pegs in the square holes.  The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world - are the ones who do.

What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the "ape" in apricot? What have they got that I ain't got?