
This spring the Lillian and Albert Small Capital Jewish Museum is uncovering the ignored, forgotten or consciously shunned stories of LGBTQ+ Jews. And the stories and artifacts — ranging from grainy old newspaper clippings to fading Polaroids, matchbook covers and mimeographed flyers from now-defunct gay nightclubs in Southwest D.C. to oral history recordings of local gay and lesbian Jewish activists discussing the challenges of living authentic lives and building a community in the District and its environs a half century ago — shed light on the professional, social and spiritual lives of neighbors, colleagues, friends and family members whose lifestyle and identity was overlooked.
The Capital Jewish Museum aims to share the history of the people and communities who have settled, lived and worked in and around the nation’s capital, while expanding these stories beyond what appears in status quo historical accounts.
“The question of whose history gets told and by which institutions is an important one to ask right now,” noted Beatrice Gurwitz, the recently appointed executive director of the museum, acknowledging the politicization of sexual and gender identity within the current executive branch of the federal government. “It is an affirmation of who and what our community represents. We are sharing stories of ongoing change in Jewish institutions and communities with respect to LGBTQ+ belonging and these are changes that have shaped all of our lives.”
“LGBTJews in the Federal City” traces the history, culture and activism of these intersecting communities. Essential elements of this history have been derived from press and police reports of illicit meetings in Lafayette Park dating to the 19th century; through burlesque and vaudeville acts in what was once known as the Tenderloin District on 9th Street, NW, above Pennsylvania Avenue; to an influx of young Jewish men and women filling government jobs during the second World War; to the founding of the first gay synagogue in the region, Bet Mishpachah, 50 years ago.
Other touchstone moments detailed on a timeline include the 1948 Sexual Psychopath Law, which allowed psychiatrists in the District to commit homosexuals to St. Elizabeths [sic], the federal psychiatric hospital in Southeast; the first National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights in 1979; and public protests at NIH surrounding research and treatment options during the early years of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s.
Biblical Text and Symbols Reflect Tradition and Change
But first, a panel offers up some key facts: an explanation of the terms that make up the abbreviation LGBTQ and graphic symbols that have been adopted across decades to symbolize identity. For example, in 1970 the New York Gay Activists Alliance adopted the Greek letter lambda to identify gay men, while other gay rights activists during that period reclaimed the Nazi symbol for homosexual — a pink triangle — to demonstrate defiance of shunned identity. Additionally, a 1916 Bible from the museum’s collection displays Leviticus 18:22 — the verse cited over the centuries to support the belief that Judaism opposes homosexuality.
Throughout, the exhibit navigates this sometimes fraught and most often ignored Jewish history that “LGBTJews” brings to light through the stories of individual activists from the District and its surrounding suburbs and the parallel historic evolution of LGBTQ+ people gaining civil rights through protests, court cases and growing social status in various Jewish communal institutions and other communal spaces.
Because Washington, D.C., has two identities — as a local hometown and the nation’s capital — its history is often bifurcated. Beyond the local stories of individuals and organizations, recognizing LGBTQ history in relation to an American historical context is tantamount, yet oft ignored, little studied and mostly whispered about.
Local Morality Laws Hamper Federal Employees
Following the influx of large numbers of young single adults during and after World War II, crackdowns by D.C.’s Metropolitan Police Department enforced morality laws, often arresting gay people for soliciting sex in public. Career government employees felt compelled to hide their identity for fear of being outed and considered possibly disloyal or a security risk. By 1942, the U.S. military began discharging people for being gay; over the next 50 years approximately 100,000 U.S. armed forces members were discharged according to exhibit text. Under the Eisenhower administration, evidence of homosexuality became grounds for dismissal or denial of security clearances so necessary for jobs across many departments from Defense, State, Agriculture, Commerce and more. This ban wasn’t lifted until 1995.
The exhibit artifacts were primarily assembled by collections curator Jonathan Edelman, who sought out artifacts and oral histories from members of Bet Mishpachah and others. Sarah Leavitt, director of curatorial affairs, conceived of the exhibit’s organization and wrote the wall text. Because of ongoing changes from the Trump administration, even just days before the exhibit opened, Leavitt had to change wall text as new executive orders were promulgated. “In the military section, I had said that the military now welcomes trans service members,” she noted, “but that’s no longer true. I had to add the new executive order about there being only two sexes in the United States of America, two genders. When I started writing those texts, that wasn’t the case.”
Other moments of national prominence include a section detailing how the LGBTQ+ community navigated and challenged the political power centers of the three branches of government. From being seen and heard and queer at the first national gay and lesbian rights march on Washington in 1979 and a second march in 1987 to the unveiling of the AIDS Memorial Quilt on the National Mall in the shadow of the Washington Monument, the capital city has been a destination for LGBTQ+ people and their supporters to gather.
Making D.C. a Gay and Lesbian Friendly Hometown
“LGBTJews in the Federal City” also shows the social and creative side of the local community. Photos depict the Edlavitch DCJCC’s 2019 Mr. Nice Jewish Boy Pageant and Lammas Women’s Shop, a feminist bookstore and gathering spot, alongside snapshots of an LGBTQ+ softball league of their own and DC GayGirls+, a recent public online chat forum. But the most fabulous piece in this section is on loan from Michael Airington, the beloved former Washington drag queen and comedian. As Ester Goldberg, Airington became a fixture in D.C. nightclubs and lounges in the early 2000s, particularly JR’s, the popular gay bar, where in sequins and an auburn bouffant wig Ester Goldberg played “Feygele Feud” with then-members of Congress Barney Frank (D-Mass.) and Tammy Baldwin (D-Wis.).
For exhibit curator Sarah Leavitt, finding ways to shed light on the hidden stories of LGBTQ+ life in Washington has been eye opening. “There are things we don’t know when we look at any picture throughout the museum,” she said. “We didn’t ask the people in the picture who they were having sex with. … But sexuality has a history that matters to people who want to see themselves as part of a community and that they’re not alone.”
Museum board member and contributor to the exhibit Larry Neff acknowledges this exhibit’s importance beyond the District’s gay Jewish community. The timeline, ephemera — like banners from his shul Bet Mishpachah — and collection of interviews from community members validate his own experiences. A lifelong Jewish gay Washingtonian, Neff worked for nearly 30 years at the Department of Transportation, the last three as deputy chief financial officer. He noted his deep and long-lasting connection to Bet Mishpachah and his appreciation for the changes he has seen as Jewish communal organizations came to accept LGBTQ Jews.
“It’s wonderful to see people I have known for years and years in photos here or referred to in quotations,” Neff said during a museum members-only exhibit preview. He added that “LGBTJews in the Federal City” isn’t just for people like him — gay D.C. Jews. “It’s for the general Jewish community of the D.C. area. This is a really important part of our Jewish history, our identity. It’s unique because of the federal government’s influence. I hope people will gain a better understanding of where we started, which was in a very discriminated place, and see all the progress that has been made … and that is at risk at the moment. This exhibit is for the whole community — Jews and non-Jews, straight and gay, because it’s an important part of the story, part of the tapestry, of our community.”
“LGBTJews in the Federal City,” on exhibit through Jan. 4, 2026, Lillian and Albert Small Capital Jewish Museum, 575 3rd Street, NW, Washington, D.C. $12 general public, $10 students and seniors, free ages 12 and under and members. Visit CapitalJewishMuseum.org.
Lisa Traiger is Washington Jewish Week’s arts correspondent.


