Latest news with #Yossi
ABC News
4 days ago
- Health
- ABC News
Growing up queer in a Hasidic Jewish community, Sara Glass shares her journey of survival
As 19-year-old Sara Glass sat across from a stranger in a hotel lobby in downtown Manhattan, she knew the rest of her life would be decided for her. Both raised in the Orthodox Gur sect of Hasidic Judaism, the pair had been set up by a matchmaker, who assessed their piety, financial assets and family standing. The meeting was almost entirely scripted and Glass, who was called Malka then, had no say in the matter. "We were sitting at this little bench — he in a black fur hat and black suit, me in a long dress, very little makeup, low heels — across from each other," she recalls. "I was taught by my teachers to order Diet Sprite because then if you spill it, it won't stain. He was taught to tip the valet. We had these rules about how to behave. "If you looked around the hotel lobby, there were 10 other couples that looked just as awkward and stilted as we did, ordering the same drinks." Glass' prospective husband, Yossi, was 26 and considered an ageing bachelor. Their courtship comprised six awkward dates in that same lobby. "We had never touched. We had never lived together. We didn't really even know that much about each other," Glass says. "But he proposed and I said yes." Glass knew that marriage meant she would be expected to play the part of the obedient wife, bearing children and honouring God as per her orthodox teachings. She also knew it meant burying the part of herself she feared most: her attraction to women. Glass — who has just published a memoir called Kissing Girls on Shabbat — describes her upbringing in her Hasidic community in Brooklyn in the 90s as like "a black and white film from the early 1900s". "Everything in the world was banned … We couldn't watch TV or movies, we didn't have any screens in our home, we couldn't listen to pop music, anything that would involve engaging with the secular world." As a teenager, Glass would rebel in small ways, like painting her toenails or wearing thigh-high socks instead of full-length stockings. But at 15, she fell in love with a girl and knew it was an unforgivable transgression. "I realised that that would be a battle I would have to fight really, really hard in order to overcome," she says. "And I thought I would be able to, that it was a test from God and I could control the desire." But though she "prayed, repented, fasted", she fell in love with another girl at 19. "She would sneak into my bedroom at night, and we had a six-month relationship. But we knew that as soon as one of us was matched with an appropriate young man, it would be over," she says. Then came the blind date with Yossi in the lobby. After agreeing to marry Yossi, Glass began bridal classes, which taught her about her marital duties. She learned how to purify herself in a ritual bath after she menstruated and how to count the days after her period. She was not allowed birth control. "There's a very detailed set of rules about what a woman is supposed to do with her body and how to be intimate, and those are secrets [withheld] until you're engaged," she says. "I never had sex ed; I didn't know what it meant to have sex. I had never seen a naked boy or man. But after I got engaged, I started to learn what would be required of me. "I kind of knew man parts were different, but I actually could not visualise male anatomy, couldn't draw it, had no idea what it looked like. And I didn't, for some reason, realise that I would have to have a male body interact physically with my body and penetrate my body. "I found that out 72 hours before my wedding." Glass dreaded intimacy with her new husband but believed it was too late to back out. "I had already committed. We had a wedding hall, we had guests flying in from all over the world," she says. Her wedding was traditional, carried out in an Orthodox synagogue that divided men and women. She wore a white, modest dress and was surrounded by her female friends and family members, who danced around her in a circle. She realised then that "whatever happened from there on out would be completely up to God and my husband". "Pregnancies, intimacy — nothing would be mine." It didn't take long for Glass to learn exactly who she had married. Yossi's commitment to orthodoxy came above all else — even his wife's health. Soon after their wedding, Glass fell pregnant and miscarried, but her husband refused to call for medical help when she was bleeding because it was Shabbat. In 2005, Glass gave birth to a son, named Avigdor. She was only permitted by their rabbi to use contraception for a few months after he was born and fell pregnant again quickly, this time with a daughter, Shira. "I had two young kids and I was trying to live in the community, married to my husband, being pious and devout," she says. Yossi had initially agreed that Glass could pursue further education when they were married, but he reneged on his promise and permitted her only to study skills she could bring back to the community. Glass began a Master's in social work at Rutgers University, though Yossi instructed her to read Jewish theology texts every day to ensure her secular education did not "contaminate" their home. Through her study, Glass began to learn about the outside world from which she had been so sheltered. "I started to get exposed to the world and to realise that some people actually enjoyed having sex and that it should be consensual … that some people value joy and free will," she says. At 24, she decided to leave her husband, but it wasn't an easy process. In Orthodox Judaism, only a man can choose to divorce his wife. She appealed to rabbis, friends and family members for help. All of them advised her to stay in the marriage. Finally, through negotiating with her in-laws, she convinced Yossi to grant her a divorce. But to procure the divorce document, known as a "gett", she had to agree to raise her children within the Orthodox community. And if she was deemed not pious enough, she would lose custody. "I was really afraid … I didn't know a lot about myself, but I knew that I was not going to lose my children," Glass says. "I barely even knew what it meant to love someone, but I loved those kids more than anything." Suddenly alone and without experience in managing money or a home, Glass struggled financially. She had some support from her father and was working as a social worker, but she knew she needed more to provide for her family. She began using every spare moment to research PhD programs. In 2010, she was introduced to another Orthodox Jewish man, Eli. He was caring, empathetic and enthusiastic about her pursuit of a PhD. They dated for 18 months before he proposed. "I said yes, because I loved him, and yes, because I was drowning, and he was my raft," Glass writes in her memoir. Eli supported Glass while she completed her PhD and helped her set up a private practice as a clinical psychologist. But their marriage was marred by depression and grief, especially after Glass's sister, Shani, died by suicide in 2013. Glass told her second husband about her attraction to women but promised him it was just a phase. As the years wore on, however, her sexuality became increasingly hard to repress and she knew her second marriage had to end. At 32, after a romantic encounter with a woman, Glass finally found herself able to admit that she was a lesbian. "I was gay. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs," she writes. "The knowledge had been inside me all along. I just wished I had been allowed to look for it." Thirteen years after the birth of her son, Glass was finally able to appeal the conditions of her first divorce contract and extricate herself from the Hasidic community. For the first time, she began to live as her authentic self. She had relationships with women and even had another child, a son born via IVF. It took years, however, to come to terms with her religion outside of Hasidism. At first, she wanted "nothing to do with it". "But now … I do feel connected to certain parts of Judaism, particularly to the values around being a good human being," she says. "I learned to consider the needs of others and to fight for their rights." Today, Glass is a psychotherapist specialising in treating complex trauma. She also dedicates time, both personally and professionally, to mentoring and supporting queer youth. "I just feel like this is what I'm meant to do. I'm meant to never stop speaking about what queer people go through," she says. "That's how people find hope. They look at my story and they say, 'Oh, I can envision a different future'."
New York Times
03-03-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
Released From Hamas Captivity, a Hostage Finds His Family Gone
Hollow-eyed and emaciated after nearly 500 days in captivity in Gaza, Eli Sharabi stood on a podium flanked by masked Hamas gunmen, unaware of what most Israelis already knew. During the Hamas-led assault on Oct. 7, 2023, a dozen gunmen had burst into Mr. Sharabi's house in the border community of Kibbutz Be'eri, where he had been hiding in a safe room with his wife and two teenage daughters. Hoping to save them, he said he gave himself up without a fight and was taken to Gaza. After emerging from Hamas's tunnels last month, he would soon learn that his wife, Lianne, 48, and his daughters — Noiya, 16, and Yahel, 13 — had been shot and killed in the family home that day, along with the family's dog, Mocha. One of his brothers, Yossi, who was also kidnapped from Be'eri, died in Gaza after 100 days in captivity. Mr. Sharabi and several other released hostages were flying to the United States on Monday to meet this week with administration officials, including a potential audience with President Trump. Mr. Sharabi's mother and three remaining siblings rejoiced over his return on Feb. 8, part of a cease-fire involving exchanges of hostages for Palestinian prisoners. But they said they had agonized beforehand, not knowing whether he was aware of the fate of his family or how they might break the news to him. Forced by his captors to speak during the live broadcast at his handover ceremony, Mr. Sharabi said he was happy to be returning to his wife and daughters. His surviving brother, Sharon Sharabi, told The New York Times shortly after his release that his brother's captors had told him his family was waiting. 'No book or manual was ever written for such a complicated situation,' Sharon said. 'It was amazing to see him standing on his own two feet. But there's a long journey of healing ahead. He is only just beginning to process and mourn his loss.' Although the Israeli public has had time to digest the trauma of the attack, the hostages existed in a kind of time warp. They had limited or no access to television or radio, according to some who were released. In many cases, they have returned to incomplete families. Those who lived in ravaged border communities like Be'eri came back to find their homes, friends and neighbors gone. Some released hostages left loved ones behind. Arbel Yehud was freed on Jan. 30, but her partner remains in captivity. Iair Horn was released two weeks later, but his brother is still in Gaza. Yarden Bibas returned from Gaza alone after his wife, Shiri, and their young sons, Ariel and Kfir, were killed in captivity. Yossi Sharabi died when an Israeli airstrike collapsed the building in Gaza where he was being held. The family holds Hamas responsible for his death, saying the group had dragged him into a war zone. His body may return only in future phases of a cease-fire deal that have yet to be negotiated. 'Nobody really knows about the next phase or the one after,' said Nira Sharabi, Yossi's widow and the mother of their three daughters, who also survived the attack. 'I'm not a politician,' she said, adding, 'I prefer to focus on Yossi coming back.' Eli Sharabi's brother, Sharon, met him shortly after his release, as he arrived by helicopter at Sheba Medical Center near Tel Aviv, wrapped in an Israeli flag. By then, Eli already knew the truth about his family. In the only interview he has given since his release, he told Israel's Channel 12 television that the first Israeli to receive him, a military psychologist, told him his mother and sister were waiting for him. He understood then that his wife and the girls had been killed. He said in the interview that he only hoped that their deaths were over quickly and that they felt no pain. Sharon said the invitation from the Trump administration came after the poignant interview was aired. Eli Sharabi, who marked his 53rd birthday in the hospital on Feb. 13, said he had been kept underground in Hamas's tunnel network, in darkness, his legs constantly shackled, with one small meal of pasta or a piece of pita bread per day. Many Israelis were outraged over how wan and bony he and two other hostages released with him appeared, saying they reminded them of Holocaust survivors. 'I was shocked,' Sharon said. 'I'd been told he would be thin, but I didn't imagine how thin. It was extreme.' It took his brother time to be able to eat again after being starved, but his food intake has slowly increased, Sharon added. The Sharabi brothers grew up in Tel Aviv, but Eli moved to Be'eri, a communal village, on a youth program when he was 15. Years later, Yossi Sharabi followed him there. Eli Sharabi married Lianne, a British citizen who had come to Be'eri as a volunteer at 19 and went on to work in a dental clinic. Yossi Sharabi married Nira, a nurse from another cooperative village in southern Israel. In Be'eri, the brothers and their families lived a few minutes' walk apart. Eli worked as the community's treasurer before becoming a financial manager of companies outside the kibbutz. His brother worked at Be'eri's printing press. 'It was a beautiful life, in nature,' Nira Sharabi said. 'The kibbutz had everything. Everyone knew everyone and was in each other's lives, for good and for bad.' The two families would often eat Sabbath eve meals together and meet on Saturdays at the communal swimming pool. That was all shattered on Oct. 7. About 100 residents of Be'eri — roughly a tenth of the community — were killed in the attack, when militants fired barrages of rockets from Gaza and gunmen invaded Israeli border towns and villages, army bases and an outdoor music festival. As the attackers rampaged, Lianne Sharabi sent Nira Sharabi messages saying that the terrorists had arrived and pleading for help, Nira said. Half an hour later, she said, gunmen were inside Nira and Yossi's house as well and immediately shot their dog, Choco. After being marched outside, Yossi, their daughter's boyfriend, Ofir Engel, and a neighbor, Amit Shani, 16, were captured and driven to Gaza. Nira led her daughters and some neighbors into a nearby house where they hid until they were rescued by soldiers, Nira said. After the chaos, Nira managed over the next few days to piece together bits of information about what had happened to Eli Sharabi and his family, including from text messages others had received and from witnesses. Lianne Sharabi was confirmed dead on Oct. 11. The deaths of her and Eli Sharabi's daughters were confirmed over the following week. Nira's nephew, who had been attending the musical festival, was killed in an attack on a bunker where he was hiding. Ofir Engel and Amit Shani were released from captivity during a brief truce in November 2023. Nira Sharabi was interviewed at her new, temporary home in Kibbutz Hatzerim in southern Israel, one of hundreds of quickly built dwellings erected in long rows to house the survivors of Be'eri until their community is rebuilt. Her home was incinerated and has since been razed. Eli Sharabi's house is still standing but all those around it are in ruins, she said. The kibbutz has refrained from demolishing the houses of hostages to allow them some closure upon their return. The members will eventually vote on whether to preserve some of the structures. 'I'm for taking it all down,' Nira Sharabi said. 'It will live in our hearts, in our minds. The land is soaked in blood.'
Sky News
08-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Sky News
Hostage told Hamas crowd he hoped to see wife and daughters after release – suggesting he didn't know they were killed on 7 October
A released Israeli hostage told a Hamas crowd he hoped to see his wife and daughters after his release - suggesting he did not know they had been killed on 7 October. Eli Sharabi, Ohad Ben Ami and Or Levy were the latest hostages freed this morning in front of a crowd of heavily armed fighters. Both Mr Ami, 56, and Mr Sharabi, 52, were taken from Kibbutz Be'eri during the 7 October attack. Mr Levy, 34, was abducted from the Nova music festival. It was not known if Mr Sharabi was aware his wife and children had been killed by Hamas over a year ago. His Bristol-born wife Lianne Sharabi, along with their children 16-year-old Noiya and 13-year-old Yahel, were killed while Mr Sharabi and his brother Yossi were taken hostage. Yossi was later killed while in captivity. Mr Sharabi was paraded on a podium by armed Hamas personnel and interviewed before his release earlier today. In one of his answers, which was clearly given under duress, he said he was hoping to see his wife and daughters very soon, according to translations provided by our US partner NBC News. Mr Sharabi also told the crowd he was aware of brother's death and said he was "very angry" with the Israeli government. All three hostages made similar critical comments about Israel while on stage with the armed men. The comments came as Stephen Brisley, Mr Sharabi's brother-in-law, told our presenter Anna Jones this morning that he wasn't sure if he had found out about his family's fate. "All the way through this, we've wondered whether what's kept him going is the prospect of being reunited with Lianne and the girls," he said. He described his brother-in-law as looking "skinny" and "gaunt". "You could see how skinny he is, how pale he is. You wonder how much daylight he's seen - very gaunt face," he said. "I think what struck me the most is that Eli has a very happy face, he smiles with his whole face and smiles with his eyes and it was the lack of light in his eyes that I think is one of the most distressing parts of it." Photos after his release showed Mr Sharabi reunite with his wider family. Mr Sharabi's brother-in-law Stephen Brisley told Sky News' Breakfast with Anna Jones: Mr Brisley added: "You don't know what the last 491 days have done to him, but it's clearly had an incredible impact on him, and it was written all over his face." The Israeli hostages were made to speak in an apparently staged interview by Hamas militants before being handed over to the International Red Cross Committee, which transported them to Israeli forces in Gaza. Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said: "We will not accept the shocking scenes that we saw today." In return for the captives' release, 183 Palestinian prisoners were released - some of which were convicted of being involved in attacks that killed dozens of people. A bus carrying several dozen Palestinian prisoners from Israel's Ofer prison arrived in the occupied West Bank, where their families and friends were waiting. Our Middle East correspondent Alistair Bunkall said some of the prisoners also looked to be in a "very bad condition". Some 18 Israeli hostages and more than 550 Palestinian prisoners have been freed since the ceasefire began on 19 January. Under the deal, 33 Israeli hostages are to be released in an initial stage in exchange for almost 2,000 Palestinian prisoners and detainees. Negotiations on a second phase of the deal began this week. It is aimed at returning the remaining hostages and agreeing to a full withdrawal of Israeli troops from Gaza in preparation to end the war. It is feared US President Donald Trump's proposal to move the Palestinian population out of Gaza so the US could take over could complicate the second and more difficult phase of the ceasefire. Hamas's cross-border attack into Israel saw around 1,200 Israelis killed and around 250 people taken hostage. Since then Israel's war in Gaza has killed more than 47,000, according to the Hamas-run health ministry, which does not differentiate between civilians and combatants.
