How Rabbi Gabrielle Cohn ’24 Is Shaping a More Inclusive Jewish Future

In honor of Jewish Disability Awareness and Inclusion Month (JDAIM), Hebrew Union College is proud to highlight the work of Rabbi Gabrielle Cohn ’24. In this Q&A, Rabbi Cohn shares how her journey to the rabbinate has been shaped by her experience as a legally blind individual, and how her advocacy continues to inspire more inclusive and welcoming Jewish spaces.

Rabbi Cohn with her guide dog Josie on the bimah with Provost Rabbi Andrea L. Weiss, ’93, Ph.D. at ordination in 2024.

What inspired you to pursue the rabbinate, and how has your journey been shaped by your experience as a legally blind individual?

I have known I wanted to be a Jewish professional since I was 12. The process of preparing for and becoming a bat mitzvah showed me how much I loved wrestling with Judaism and leading services. When I was 16, I went to Kutz Camp, and that’s where I solidified my love for intensive Jewish study and spaces. HUC came and did a presentation at camp, and I was hooked. I went home, and months later, when someone asked what I wanted to do in life at a family bar mitzvah celebration, I blurted out that I wanted to be a rabbi. I had so many great mentors along the way who showed me what it could look like.

One of the biggest ways being legally blind has shaped my rabbinate and my journey is that I don’t know if I’ll be able to be a pulpit rabbi forever, even though it’s what I love. I know there are workarounds and things I can do, but I also know it’s becoming increasingly difficult every year as I lose more vision.

Rabbi Cohn and Josie celebrating Sukkot together, Josie sniffs the etrog.

Your thesis focused on the inclusion of guide dogs in synagogues. What led you to choose this particular topic, and what are some of the key arguments you present in your responsum?

I honestly don’t remember how I came across the responsum that currently exists from the 1960s. I think I was just browsing, looking for responsa connected to blindness, and found the one on guide dogs. I was livid with the responsum and the lack of awareness present in it.

My dad got his first guide dog when I was in eighth grade, so going to services with a guide dog was a big part of my formative years. Additionally, as someone who, at the time, was waiting to be matched with a guide dog, I wanted to better understand what Judaism says about blindness in general and the use of guide dogs in a sanctuary.

The current responsum essentially states the arguments from an Orthodox rabbi about why it should be okay to have a guide dog in the sanctuary, but then focuses on one key element. The Orthodox rabbi says the handler should sit near the exit to disturb as little as possible. The author of the Reform responsum took it further, arguing that, to avoid distraction, the dog should not be allowed in at all, and that a congregant should instead serve as the guide for the blind person.

My key argument in my responsum is that this is absolutely not true and is based in prejudice, taking away the independence of the person who is blind or has low vision. I explained that if Orthodox rabbis can find reason to allow the dog in, there is no reason why we, as Reform Jews, should not as well.

Watch Rabbi Cohn’s Capstone, “Ir Baolam Ro’eh Blind in a Seeing World: Jewish Perspectives on Blindness from Biblical Times to Present Day.”
 

Rabbi Cohn sits with her guide dog Josie at ordination in 2024.

You’ve mentioned that even if a synagogue doesn’t actively turn people away for having a guide dog, the fact that halacha could be interpreted that way is still a problem. Why do you think it’s important to address these theoretical barriers, even if they aren’t always enforced?

When language like the current responsum exists, it creates an attitude and a precedent that it’s acceptable to “other” people with disabilities. It essentially encourages taking away a blind person’s mobility aid, justifying it by saying, “Someone will help them.”

Never would we see a responsum saying a wheelchair, crutches, or any other mobility aid shouldn’t be allowed at services—the same should be true for people who are blind. These theoretical barriers place a burden on the person with a disability, making them feel like they are in the wrong.

Additionally, this kind of language gives communities the opportunity to say no and base their discrimination in Jewish law. In my opinion, it can lead to using halacha to push out those who are different from our community. In today’s world, where people with disabilities are losing the systems meant to support them, that is even more dangerous.

In your experience, what are some of the biggest misconceptions about disability and inclusion in Jewish spaces? How can Jewish communities work to dismantle them?

One of the biggest misconceptions in Jewish spaces around disability and inclusion is that Jewish communities often pat themselves on the back for being inclusive of one type of disability and then claim they are fully inclusive. Unfortunately, true inclusivity means recognizing and addressing the wide range of disabilities people face—many of which aren’t even considered.

Things have definitely become more accessible for some people in the past five years, but there’s still significant room for growth. One major issue I see is the failure to consult people with disabilities when trying to serve them.

“To truly achieve inclusion and accessibility, we need to talk to people with a wide array of disabilities to understand what will best help them feel welcome and included.”

We also need to avoid marginalizing or reducing people to their disabilities. People are more than how they complete a certain task.

Rabbi Cohn at Hanukkah services at Congregation Beth Israel in Corpus Christi, TX

Jewish Disability Awareness and Inclusion Month is an opportunity for education and advocacy. What are some practical steps that synagogues and Jewish institutions can take to become more accessible and welcoming?

I can’t speak for all disabilities, but some basic steps toward inclusion and accessibility include:

• Ensuring there are handicap-accessible entrances, ideally ones that aren’t hidden away or unadvertised
• Having an accessible bimah
• Providing large-print prayer books and chumashim—or even better, tablets with access to these materials
• Offering audio enhancement for those who are hard of hearing
• Streaming services and programs so people who are homebound can participate

Rabbi Andrew Goodman ’08 and Rabbi Cohn with her guide dog Josie following Rabbi’s Cohn’s installation.

Beyond your thesis, how do you see yourself advocating for inclusion and accessibility in your rabbinic work?

I work to break down barriers regularly as part of my rabbinical work. As far as I know, I’m the only rabbi with a guide dog, which brings both challenges and blessings. Josie (my dog) is a great addition to all sorts of programming and pastoral care, but she’s also a dog and sometimes gets antsy during long workdays.

I also serve on the board of JBI Library, a nonprofit organization that connects anyone who is blind, low vision, or has a print disability to Jewish life. I love helping to see this organization change and grow as we’ve implemented a strategic plan over the past couple of years.

In my teachings and programming, I regularly raise the importance of inclusion and accessibility. I do my best to accommodate any needs that arise in my community and hope to continue finding new ways to make Jewish spaces more accessible and welcoming to all.