After that initial Zoom bat mitzvah, it became clear that my own celebration would look the same.

Aunt Barbara gave me the opportunity to forge my own Jewish identity, with the help of a simple, silver, Star of David.

I was dubbed “femenistit masricha,” a smelly feminist, on the first day of seventh grade. I kind of liked it. 

I hadn’t thought much at all about why I engaged with Judaism—or even why I was Jewish beyond having been born that way.

Feminism does not require that all women are the same and should react in the same manner to misogyny.

Religion and art are both about turning individual experiences into community ones.

Being Jewish, Chinese, and American has fed my aspiration to ensure that more non-traditional Jewish people feel comfortable with their identities.

As we progress and amend our traditions, we can take wisdom from past rulings to benefit the Feminist cause.

Purim’s festivities celebrate not only Jewish survival but also Jewish resistance.

I lead a life filled with Jewish meaning, and I shouldn’t have to untangle that from the other identities I hold.

In my family, necklaces are more meaningful than any other piece of jewelry.

I find myself thanking all the authors I have read, my family, my friends, and every other Brave Girl out there writing advocating, and proudly showing their Jewish feminist identity.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how my classmates spoke about the Holocaust no differently than if they were talking about the mythology of an ancient civilization.

Even if I didn't agree with counter-protesters, we both engaged in a fundamentally Jewish act: protest.

I realized that my faults with Judaism stemmed from men’s interpretations of how women should behave, not actual law.

Just as the Havdalah service requires participation from each of the senses, I realized that my identities– a Jew, a daughter, a woman, a sister, and a feminist– would be integral as I entered Jewish adulthood.

Women can only access Judaism's power when we enter a space that allows us to engage with tradition in the way we see fit.

The moment I write with any vulnerability, I second-guess every opinion. Overcoming my fear and writing about my vulnerability has made me a better writer. 

Feeling like my value was my body—either as a commodity or as a distraction—robbed me of confidence and comfort.

Our society associates femininity with weakness, so was validating to learn that other members of my cohort had similar experiences with sexism.

Twelve years later, "Miss Rumphius'" message of exploring faraway places to find community still resonate with me.

Instead of siloing ourselves into a box, we need to break down those barriers and reach out to one another.

There are serious barriers to the classic, magical overnight Jewish summer camp experience.