| Film depicts Jewish wives who were friends, then lovers.
BY LINDA BROCKMAN - lbrockman@herald.com
Jewish Star Times - Wednesday - April 24, 2002
Ruthie Berman believes her friendship with Connie Kurtz - when the women were young mothers in Brooklyn in 1958 - was beshert.
"It's like you are on a bicycle for two," says Berman, who lives with Kurtz in Century Village, West Palm Beach, "and you don't have to say 'OK, start with your left foot.' We know what to start with."
In 1974, after a 15-year friendship, Kurtz and Berman finally came to terms with what their relationship had grown into over the years. They finally realized they were in love.
But how would their husbands, children and friends handle the revelation? |
TELLING THEIR STORY:
Ruthie Berman, left, and Connie Kurtz are the subjects in a film called 'Ruthie and Connie: Every Room in the House.' |
Filmmaker Donald Goldmacher tells the story of these two seniors - lovers, friends, gay activists, mothers and grandmothers in Ruthie and Connie: Every Room in the House.
"I initially thought I would make a movie about Ruthie," said Goldmacher, who met Berman when he was a child. "Then it dawned on me - it's not just about Ruthie, the story to tell was about both of them. They are partners in life."
Ruthie and Connie: Every Room in the House is being shown at 2:30 p.m. on April 27 at the Colony Theater in Miami Beach. It is part of the fourth annual Miami Gay & Lesbian Film Festival, running through May 5.
The women, both in their mid-60s, have been together for 40 years as friends, 25 years as lovers. The snowbirds divide their time between South Florida and Brooklyn, where they met while living in Contello Towers.
Kurtz spent 18 years in an unfulfilling marriage. She wed and had children, she said, because it was expected of her.
"In 1974, I gave myself permission to fall in love with Ruthie," said Kurtz, remembering the tears, energy and anguish involved with making that "quantum leap."
Today, Kurtz's children -even her Hasidic son, Moshe -have been more understanding.
"He realizes that his religious beliefs don't equal an inability to love his mother and welcome Ruthie into his home," she said. "I don't ask my son for acceptance, nor do I need his acceptance."
Kurtz's daughter, Eileen, considers the women her "two mothers."
At first, Berman had trouble facing her sexuality. She denied it to her family and even to herself. When her kids asked if she was a lesbian, she said no, and tried to perpetuate the lie that the divorcees were simply roommates.
Berman's pain became so fierce, she worked out the perfect suicide plan - a leap from the Verrazano Bridge linking Brooklyn to Staten Island. Her
children, she rationalized, would accept their mother's death easier than her "coming out."
Then Berman remembered Kurtz and thought, "I have to go back to her. . . Connie, as my friend and my lover, took my hand and brought me out of the closet little by little."
Berman said she always felt something was missing in her marriage and her life. Before she met Kurtz, she didn't know how to fill that void.
"Without my consciousness recognizing it, I was falling in love. You were the person who listened," Berman tells Kurtz in the movie.
When Kurtz's family moved to Israel, Berman expected to miss her friend, but the pain was greater than she imagined.
"When she came back from Israel I felt such joy - joy that I hadn't felt since the birth of my children."
People often think of homosexuals only in terms of sexuality, Berman says. The film's subtitle, Every Room in the House, means that as a couple, Connie and Ruthie's lives encompass much more than just the bedroom.
In the 55-minute film, a friend from Contello Towers remembers the climate during those early years. "It was bad enough they were getting a divorce, but that they were leaving their husbands for each other. Oy gevalt."
Berman and Kurtz attend local PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays) meetings and belong to a gay synagogue in New York City.
Berman's son still does not accept her lifestyle. Rut at these meetings she can share her story in hopes of helping others understand their own gay family members.
The film shows one such PFLAG meeting, where a distressed mom tells participants about her gay son - but it's not what you might think.
"This is very difficult for me today," she begins.
The source of her heartbreak? Her son, Kenneth, has broken up with his partner of 15 years.
"I miss Dominic," she said, crying. "He's like a son to us. I'm taking it terribly. It's such a hurt."
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