Liz Weintraub’s life stands in stark contrast with the 21-year-old woman she once was, living in a residential facility and feeling like she didn’t belong in Jewish spaces. Over decades, she has grown more connected to both her advocacy and Judaism.
The Rockville resident has advocated for people with disabilities like herself for 25 years now, written a book that was published in January and found community at B’nai Israel Congregation.
Weintraub is a senior advocacy specialist on the Association of University Centers on Disabilities’ policy team and the host of the YouTube series “Tuesdays with Liz: Disability Policy for All,” where she makes policy language accessible to a general audience.
Weintraub and her three sisters were raised in the Reform Jewish movement in Arlington. Her family celebrated Shabbat nearly every week and belonged to Temple Rodef Shalom in Falls Church. Weintraub attended religious school from kindergarten until confirmation age.
She notably didn’t have her bat mitzvah until the age of 41.
“My parents didn’t believe in girls having a bat mitzvah,” Weintraub said. “They were also very nervous whether I could even have one because of my disability.”
Despite their concerns, Weintraub’s parents believed in her throughout her childhood, driving her to speech therapy appointments and doctors’ offices: “The way I am today is all because of them.”
“[My parents] kept me at home — that was one of the biggest things — unlike a lot of my friends who were put away and people forgot about them,” Weintraub said. “I have three older sisters. [My parents] weren’t sure they had all the time to help me, but my mom worked with me and made sure that I went to school.”
She attended boarding school at the age of 18, then in her early 20s lived in a residential facility in New Jersey. There, Weintraub met Pat, a staff member who encouraged her to speak up for herself.
Weintraub took that advice, moving to Boston where she landed her first advocacy job, coming home to Arlington for the High Holidays.
“At the time, I didn’t belong to a temple,” Weintraub recalled. “I didn’t feel comfortable; I didn’t know people in the Jewish community, so I didn’t feel comfortable.”
A move to Baltimore didn’t fix that sense of not fitting in; Weintraub figured she just wasn’t connected to her faith. She eventually returned to the Greater Washington area after falling in love with her husband. The newlyweds attended services at Temple Rodef Shalom for about a year, but Weintraub’s husband wasn’t comfortable attending a Reform temple.
Weintraub wanted to say Kaddish for her late grandmother 19 years ago. Not wanting to drive all the way from Rockville to Falls Church every week, she tried out B’nai Israel Congregation and felt comfortable there.
She enrolled in a b’nai mitzvah class with her husband, hoping to celebrate her long-awaited simcha.
“I did it because I wanted the gifts,” Weintraub admitted. “I wanted the honor of being the center of attention.”
The 18-month course helped her realize that Judaism was about so much more: “It wasn’t about the presents; it was about learning about religion.”
“I learned a lot more than I did in religious school about the history of the Jews,” Weintraub said. “I’m really proud of the Jewish religion because as I’m learning about the Jewish connection, there’s so much connection between disability and the religion.”
She drew parallels between the story of Moses and her own advocacy work.
“Moses is our leader,” Weintraub said. “He had a speech impairment like I do and he really didn’t want to be a leader, but God said he should be a leader. Moses said, ‘No, no, I can’t do that; I can’t bring the 10 Commandments up to Mount Sinai.’ God said, ‘You have to. Just try.’ And he did. That’s what I do; I go up to Congress.”
In 2018, she spoke before a Senate committee hearing to voice her concerns about President Donald Trump’s appointment of Justice Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.
“I was arguing that [Kavanaugh] should not be on the Supreme Court because he doesn’t think very well about people with disabilities,” Weintraub said.
A nationally recognized expert in disability advocacy, Weintraub visits staff on Capitol Hill regularly and speaks at disability conferences and training meetings. In 2011, President Barack Obama appointed her to serve on the President’s Committee for People with Intellectual Disabilities, which advises the Secretary of Health and Human Services on issues that affect the intellectual disabilities community.
Weintraub held a fellowship with Sen. Bob Casey of Pennsylvania as part of his disability policy staff and worked with the Senate diversity office.
“After I was asked to be in his office for a fellowship, I was nervous,” Weintraub said, fearing that Senate staffers wouldn’t take her seriously or that she would have a hard time understanding material.
“Speaking now, I can imagine this is how Moses felt, and people just told me, ‘You can do this,’ and I worked in Sen. Casey’s office,” she added.
Her more recent work includes advocating to Congress about issues that affect people with disabilities, such as cutting access to Medicaid. Weintraub herself benefits from a service provided by Medicaid: a paid caretaker visits her Rockville residence weekly to help with cooking, organization and running errands.
“It’s our life and I’m helping people stand up for their rights,” she said.
Weintraub’s book, “All Means All: My Life in Advocacy,” sums up the life lessons she’s gained over the past 58 years. The advocate and published author participates in programming with Makom, a nonprofit Jewish organization that empowers people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, and spends time with her sisters, two of whom live locally.
She is proud of three things: her advocacy, Judaism and family.
