Reflections from Tel Aviv: Pride, Fear, and the Fight Against Extremism 

By David Olsen – Vazquez 

I had the incredible opportunity to join Jewish Federations of North America’s 2025 LGBTQ+ Pride Mission to Israel this past June. As an LGBTQ+ leader from North America, I was able to connect deeply with Israeli leaders, uplift Israel’s LGBTQ+ community, and grow my own leadership skills in ways I never expected. 

This mission wasn’t just a trip—it was a chance to build lasting relationships and strengthen our global LGBTQ+ Jewish community. Returning home, I feel inspired, empowered, and more connected than ever to a vibrant network of leaders and changemakers. 

On the second day of the war, after a night of bombings in Tel Aviv, our Jewish Federation leadership swiftly coordinated our evacuation through Jordan and Egypt. Our group—over 100 LGBTQIA+ leaders from North America—had come to Israel on a Pride Mission Trip to connect with local queer organizations and experience the country post–October 7. 

What none of us expected was how deeply we would connect over a quiet, shared pain. Beyond the immediate terror of missile attacks, there was the ache of feeling misunderstood—even erased—by our own communities. The question many queer Jews hear all too often echoed among us: “You’re Jewish, but you’re not a Zionist, right?” 

This question reflects a distorted understanding of Zionism. At its core, Zionism is the belief that Jews have a right to live in safety and dignity, in a sovereign homeland where they can protect themselves. Yet under the weight of disinformation, Israel—home to approximately 9.8 million people, including around 7.7 million Jews and nearly 2 million Arab and other non-Jewish citizens—is often depicted not as a nation fighting for survival, but as a symbol of oppression. This erases the reality that Israel exists within a region of 22 Arab League countries, whose combined population exceeds 480 million. 

Most heartbreaking is how this misrepresentation has found its way into progressive and queer spaces—communities we once looked to for justice, inclusion, and solidarity. When support for Jewish existence becomes conditional, we’re forced to choose between essential parts of who we are. 

Our journey began on Sunday, June 7th, at the Yitzhak Rabin Center, where we met Dalia Rabin, daughter of the late Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin—assassinated in 1995 for daring to pursue peace. His fate echoed that of King Abdullah I of Jordan, who was assassinated in 1951 for engaging in peace talks with Israel. History warns us: when political extremism takes root and hate is normalized, violence follows. 

The next day, we visited Kibbutz Nir Oz and the Nova Music Festival site, walking alongside survivors through homes destroyed and lives shattered. We stood where people were murdered or taken hostage. There are no words for that grief—but we bore witness. 

On Tuesday and Thursday, we met with queer IDF soldiers, healthcare workers, and families. These soldiers shared how, in a region where queerness can mean danger, they’ve found strength and belonging in their service. In Israel, queer identity and national pride are not in conflict—they coexist. 

On Wednesday, we met President Isaac Herzog and First Lady Michal Herzog in Jerusalem. President Herzog, the first Israeli president to attend Jerusalem Pride, reaffirmed that LGBTQIA+ rights are human rights, and that queer people are part of Israel’s core. 

Like the U.S., Israel is a democracy—imperfect, challenged, and still striving. In a region dominated by monarchies and authoritarian regimes, Israel uniquely upholds legal protections for LGBTQIA+ people—rights that remain rare and deeply meaningful. 

We grieve for all innocent lives—Palestinian and Israeli—caught in this conflict. But justice cannot come at the expense of Jewish safety or Israel’s right to exist. Even now, as we write these words, hostages remain in Gaza. Their families wait in anguish. 

To truly pursue justice and peace, we must hold the full complexity of this moment. We can and must stand for the dignity and humanity of all people—while also standing firmly against antisemitism and the erasure of Jewish self-determination. Both can be true. Both must be true. 

David and his husband, Manny, are both special education teachers and active members of the San Diego Jewish community.