Thirty-eight years ago, on a sunny June day in Toronto, my husband and I became proud parents of a healthy baby boy. As parents, we have never been anything but biased when it comes to bragging about our son’s and our daughter’s attributes and achievements. But there remains one part of our son’s life that is very personal and, in some Jewish circles, highly controversial.

Our son is gay.

It wasn’t always the case that I could open up about this subject. Canada, a forerunner in the fight for the rights of LGBT people, has made it easier to be open in a secular context. However, the religious communities here are sadly in the dark ages. In our own Jewish community, it has been very difficult to sit by and see some members espouse hateful and toxic attitudes about LGBT people.

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This is not the soil that encourages vulnerable kids and family members to be honest or “real” about why they or their 40-year-old son or daughter is living alone, to tell lies when people ask if they can fix him up with their daughter or niece. Or to open up about why their child is fighting depression, is engaged in self-harming behaviour or has suicidal thoughts.

Unfortunately, when our son first came out and we were at our most vulnerable, we shut ourselves off and pretended all was well. We didn’t know where to turn for help. And besides, we perceived our options at the time as being very limited. We believed those in positions to help were disapproving and as ignorant as we were. So we chose to keep quiet. In retrospect, that decision to keep our son’s sexuality a secret was not the best strategy for anyone in our family.

We only got what we needed on an emotional level when we finally opened up. True friends and family rose to the occasion, and we developed much stronger bonds and affection based on renewed trust and support. What we thought was going to be Pandora’s box actually turned out to be a magic elixir. We learned that it is not only the child who comes out, every member of the family who does so as well.

My husband and I believe that God created all of us “in his image.” As heterosexual people, we would have a near-impossible task to “become gay.” Likewise, LGBT people have the same futile task of becoming straight. Research shows that so-called conversion/reparative therapy does not work.

So, if this “gay business” isn’t a choice and it isn’t a lifestyle, does it not open the door to an attitude and an approach that is less disapproving within the Jewish, and specifically Orthodox, community? Shouldn’t we be willing to embrace our LGBT members and welcome them and their families into our shuls and community institutions without the fear and secrets that have been so common?

The world back in 1995, when our son came out as a 16-year-old, is not today’s world. We are more aware today that 11 to 12 per cent of the population can be classified as LGBT. Someone knows someone, or is related to someone, who is gay.

There has never been a better time to come out. Young people are growing up in a world that would be surprised to learn what all the fuss is about. I heard one of them say that when they read on Facebook that a peer has come out, they give as much thought to it as they would to learning that some of their friends have different eye colours – which is to say, not much at all.

I wish that was true for many of my own peer group, some of whom are still sadly in denial of their child’s reality. Of course, there is an adjustment period parents go through when they learn that their child is LGBT – it hurts as you give up on certain dreams you had for your kids. But the truth is that life – for all of us – has a way of turning out not exactly as we imagined it might. We get to have naches that we never could have imagined – we have a son who has brought, and continues to bring us, unimaginable blessings that have enriched our lives and the lives of so many others.

READ: JEWISH LGBT DADS TELL STORY OF SURROGACY, LOVE, AND FAMILY

But we still have lots of work to do, especially in the Jewish community. My hope in telling our story is that if you are LGBT or related to someone who is, that you stand taller. If you are living with a big secret, my hope is that you find the courage to speak out. It is a gift you give yourself and your family.

Thirty-eight years from now, when our son is close to 80 years old, I wonder what he and his contemporaries will say about the world they grew up in. When they look back, they will likely want to know what efforts were made by our community to rise to the imperative and challenge of tikkun olam as it relates to the LGBT community. Most of all, they will ask one question: were you a part of it?  

Carol Seidman has been a community professional for many years. She is married to Peter and is a mother and grandmother.