Laban had two daughters, the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. And Leah‘s eyes were “weak”, and Rachel was beautiful in form and beautiful in look. (Genesis 29:16-17)

If any girl on the verge of leaving childhood and entering adolescence looked at the above statement I would hardly be shocked if she wanted to strive toward being like Rachel rather than Leah. Don’t we all want to be “pretty”, on some level?

Then again, it can be read in a second, very different light. According to the Hebrew, Leah’s eyes are described as rakot, which can also mean tender or pleasant. If we adhere to the second translation, Leah can be interpreted as being empathetic rather than having low vision.

Furthermore, even if the more frequent translation is right, why is reduced sight such a problem? Obviously it’s a hindrance, whether in an ancient context such as our holy scripture or in modern times, but why should anyone be defined by their difference, no matter the kind? Why should difference automatically be read as negative?

Due to all of this, I’ve come to have great empathy for Leah. Appearance isn’t everything; if I had to choose I’d much rather be empathetic rather than “pretty” in any way, stereotypical or unconventional.

Something else that gives me compassion toward Leah is my experience as a gay woman. Sometimes, like Leah, I’m defined by why I’m different and such difference is viewed as negatively as possible, though like anything, it simply is. Positive and negative are human ideas above all else; difference is simply a fact of life.

When morning came, there was Leah! So Jacob said to Laban, “Why have you deceived me?” (Genesis 29:25)

According to Scripture, the “sister swap” and deception were real events. They can also be viewed as metaphorical and thus relevant to our lives as GLBT Jews. How many times have we been accused of deceiving our relatives when we come out and live honestly, as God intended us to live? People often have high, perhaps outright unrealistic expectations, that we are supposed to meet and any breaking of those expectations is generally read as deception or letting people down.

How many times have we heard remarks like this: “Give it time, you’ll turn straight,” or “Excuse me, you might have to turn straight. How about if you’re kissed by a (insert your opposite sex)?” Perhaps one of the most interesting (and generally infuriating) responses people can have is this: “Why do you think you’re gay when you look ‘normal’ (read: straight).

If we don’t fit any assumptions or stereotypes people have about being gay, it’s easy for them to feel they have been deceived. Their beliefs come crashing down around them and it’s not a pleasant experience for them (and often us too).

I sometimes wonder if my life would be easier if I fit society’s stereotypical notions about being gay (like Rachel had it easy because she was pretty in a stereotypical manner and since she was loved by the right people).

Since I don’t have “the look”, meaning I’m not “butch”, people misinterpret my vocabulary, something I’ve come to regard as the easiest route if I feel obligated to out myself around strangers. One very interesting example of this manifested itself a sort while ago when I was on practicum.

I was helping with a kindergarten class and I was asked by one of the other adults in the room whether any of the children were mine. I responded that I felt I was too young to have children right now and if I ever had any it would be due to adopting or because my spouse was pregnant.

Obviously she misunderstood why I had said spouse because she felt obligated to break the news that it might be possible in future generations for a woman’s spouse to get pregnant but it wasn’t about to happen during mine. She clearly believed I had said spouse as a substitute for husband and I almost felt guilty outing myself to her, since it was clear she couldn’t fathom that it was possible for someone who looked like me to be gay.

God saw Leah was hated… (Genesis 29:31)

Why was Leah hated? Simply because she was different than her sister? One midrash suggests she was hated because she tricked Jacob (according to Genesis Rabbah 71:2 she was responsible for the “sister swap”); a second one explains that Jacob hated Leah because she reminded him of his own deception of his father when they were fighting about the “sister swap” and Jacob referred to Leah as a swindler (Tanchuma, Buber 7:11).

According to a third midrash (Lamentations Rabbah, Proem 24), Rachel was responsible for the “sister swap”. Her version of events almost reads like an example of trans advocacy. She was aware her father planned to substitute Leah for her. She went above and beyond in her actions, helping her sister pass until the morning, even sneaking under the bed and responding when Jacob spoke to Leah so she couldn’t be recognized by any means, including voice, generally recognized to be peoples’ defining characteristic.

Despite all the privileges she had, Rachel demonstrated great solidarity toward her sister. Perhaps, rather than the rivalry they’re generally recognized as having, Rachel and Leah should be recognized as a model for sisterhood.

Later in our parashah, Leah returns the favour, whether simply due to a strong sense of equality or a sincere desire to help her sister, or perhaps a mixture of both the above. When she is pregnant with her last child she comes to the realization that if she gives birth to one more son her sister won’t be equal to the concubines in her contribution to the building of the twelve tribes of Israel (according to our sage Rashi). Due to this realization she asks God to change the sex of her unborn child. Her prayer is granted, making her last child the woman we come to meet as Dinah later (Tanchuma, Buber 7:19).

According to some modern translations of the story, “hated” simply means “loved less” but either way it’s not fair, something we can probably relate to. How many of us have felt hated, or less loved, simply because we were created differently? No one deserves to be in a competition for love.

Despite being an only child it’s easy for me to relate to Leah’s predicament. When I was younger I felt loved by everyone. People also seemed to regard me as a “perfect” or even “dream” child. Once they realized I was different than they had envisioned me as being, some of those same people either started to hate me or, at minimum, love me less than they previously had. (Others claimed they loved me the same but since they opted to demonstrate their love in a different way I could hardly avoid feeling like they didn’t love me any more.). It didn’t matter that all that was different was my honesty level; they viewed me as different and so they came to judge me for it.

God opened her womb, but Rachel was barren. Leah conceived and bore a son and named him Reuben, for she said, “Because God has seen my affliction; surely now my husband will love me”. Then she conceived again and bore a son and said, “Because God has heard that I’m unloved, God has therefore given me this son also.” So she named him Simeon. And she conceived again and bore a son and said, “Now this time my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.” Therefore he was named Levi. She conceived again and bore a son and said, “This time I will praise God.” Therefore she named him Judah. Then she stopped bearing (Genesis 29:31-34)

Do the above verses serve as Leah’s internal struggle to accept herself as being different? She felt unloved so she turned toward God to help her through. She clearly moves through steps; she doesn’t praise God until she gives birth to her last son. Although she’s never completely embraced by Jacob she’s able to develop some measure of self-respect and that enables her to have gratitude and become a model, according to the Talmud, for thanking God for anything special in our lives (berachot 7b).

We are all different. Although sometimes our differences are viewed as negatively as possible (like Leah’s “vision problem”), they are not negative by nature. They are, if anything, a matter of perspective. Does that mean it’s easy to come to view difference as a blessing? No, since oftentimes we have to face people who want to ensure we strive toward being as they expect (stereotypes, anyone?), plus we have to face our own internal struggles and inch toward some kind of self-acceptance (as Leah attempted to resolve through her children). Self-acceptance isn’t easy, although if we can get it we might be able to help others too through serving as examples and giving them hope.

Amy Soule just finished an EA diploma this spring and remains active as a volunteer at the location of her last practicum. She is currently looking for a paying position. She’s also very involved at her synagogue, helping serve as honorary cantor and/or chant Torah as asked. Her objective during the next while is to master Haftarah trope completely and make steps toward cantorial investiture.

This is a really fantastic reading. I was having an argument with a friend about the 'eyes' text and I'm so glad to see another reading of it, and a queer feminist one to boot!