Meet Abby Stein, the Trans Rabbi Shaping NYC's Future As Part Of Zohran Mamdani's Transition Committee

When Zohran Mamdani won the New York City mayoral race with 50.39 percent of the vote, he made history—becoming the city's first Muslim mayor and the youngest since 1889. What followed was equally groundbreaking: the announcement of over 400 appointees across 17 transition committees designed to help shape the incoming administration's policy agenda. Among those named was Abby Stein, a transgender rabbi, author, and activist whose inclusion on the team has already sparked predictable outrage from conservative corners of the internet—and equally predictable celebration from LGBTQ+ advocates and progressive allies.

The appointment of Stein isn't merely a symbolic gesture, though symbolism matters. It represents a tangible commitment from Mamdani's administration to center LGBTQ+ voices in the machinery of city government at a moment when trans people face unprecedented political hostility. During his campaign, Mamdani made LGBTQ+ rights a cornerstone of his platform, pledging to protect trans New Yorkers amid ongoing attacks by the Trump administration. With Stein now positioned as an advisor on health issues, that commitment is moving from campaign rhetoric into structural reality.

To understand why Stein's appointment matters—and why it has triggered such vitriol—requires understanding her journey. Stein is an ex-Orthodox Jew who spent her early life in the Hasidic community before leaving in 2012. Her departure from that insular world was profound and multifaceted. She and her wife divorced and established a joint custody arrangement for their son, before coming out as transgender in 2015.

Since then, Stein has become a visible and vocal activist, reshaping her relationship with Judaism in ways that honor her identity while rejecting the trauma of her upbringing. In reflecting on her journey, she wrote for the publication "Hey Alma": "When I left the Hasidic community, my brain made one thing clear: If I wanted to avoid reliving my trauma, my gender and religious identities could not in any way be the same femininity and Judaism that I knew growing up." This articulation of identity—one that refuses to compartmentalize gender, religion, and survival—speaks to the complex negotiations many queer people of faith undertake.

Today, Stein serves as a rabbi at Brooklyn's progressive Kolot Chayein synagogue and is an author whose work explores the intersections of identity, faith, and liberation. She was part of the "Jews for Zohran" campaign during the mayoral race, lending her voice and credibility to Mamdani's candidacy. In campaign materials, Stein stated: "We know Zohran will fight to make our city affordable and safe for our families." Her involvement in the campaign wasn't incidental—it was a deliberate choice to align herself with a political project she believed would advance both LGBTQ+ rights and economic justice.

The moment Mamdani's transition team appointments were announced, the right-wing internet mobilized with predictable fury. Online commentators rushed to attack Stein's appointment, with one critic scathingly labeling her a "transgender, an anti-Zionist — and a member of Jewish Voice for Peace/Gaza. " The invocation of these identities as slurs—stringing together gender identity, political stance, and organizational affiliation as though they were inherently disqualifying—reveals the machinery of contemporary right-wing opposition to trans representation.

What's worth noting is that the backlash wasn't primarily about Stein's qualifications or policy positions. It was about her mere existence in a position of influence. The fact that she is transgender, that she holds progressive political views, and that she is a visible Jewish voice for Palestinian rights made her an irresistible target for those invested in maintaining traditional hierarchies and silencing dissent.

The response from LGBTQ+ advocates and allies was swift and affirming. Activist Matt Bernstein, who is also Jewish, responded to the criticism with characteristic wit: "so in other words an absolute queen." This exchange encapsulates a broader cultural moment—one in which LGBTQ+ people and their allies are increasingly refusing to accept the framing that visibility and representation are controversial. Instead, they're reframing the conversation: the controversy isn't about whether trans people deserve a seat at the table, but about the desperation of those who want to keep the table as it has always been.

Stein's appointment is part of a larger pattern in Mamdani's transition team composition. The mayor-elect explicitly centered LGBTQ+ rights in his campaign platform and has continued to do so in his appointments. During his campaign, Mamdani pledged to protect trans New Yorkers amid the Trump administration's ongoing attacks on transgender people and policies. This isn't empty rhetoric—it's being backed up by structural decisions about who gets to shape policy.

The transition committees themselves are overseen by co-chairs Lina Khan, Grace Bonilla, Maria Torres-Springer, and Melanie Hartzog, individuals with over 50 years of combined experience in city government, social services, and the legal field. These committees are tasked with developing policy across housing, community safety, economic development, and other critical areas. By including Stein and other LGBTQ+ appointees in these spaces, Mamdani is signaling that queer perspectives and expertise are essential to the work of governing a major American city.

For LGBTQ+ New Yorkers, particularly trans people, Stein's appointment carries real significance. New York City is home to a substantial and visible LGBTQ+ community, but that visibility has not always translated into political power or protection. Trans people in particular continue to face discrimination in housing, employment, healthcare, and policing. Having a trans voice in the room where health policy is being shaped—a trans voice that comes from lived experience both within and outside traditional religious and community structures—could meaningfully impact how the city approaches healthcare access, mental health services, and other issues directly affecting trans New Yorkers.

Moreover, Stein's presence signals to younger LGBTQ+ people, particularly those from religious or immigrant backgrounds, that their identities are not incompatible with civic participation and leadership. For queer people navigating the complex terrain of maintaining cultural or religious connections while living authentically, Stein's example—of being simultaneously a rabbi, a trans woman, an activist, and a policy advisor—offers a powerful counter-narrative to the false choice between belonging and authenticity.

The backlash against Stein's appointment also reflects a broader ideological battle over what representation looks like in American democracy. Conservatives have long argued that diversity hires are somehow less qualified, that inclusion necessarily means exclusion of "merit. "The appointment of a trans rabbi to help shape health policy in America's largest city directly challenges this narrative. Stein brings expertise, lived experience, and a demonstrated commitment to both her community and progressive governance. Her qualifications are not in question—her identity is.

This distinction matters because it clarifies what the real objection is. Those attacking Stein's appointment aren't making arguments about her competence; they're making arguments about whether people like her should have power at all. In that sense, the backlash is less about Stein specifically and more about the existential threat that trans visibility and political power represent to a particular worldview.

As Mamdani prepares to take office on January 1st, 2026, Stein and the other transition appointees will be instrumental in translating campaign promises into concrete policy. For LGBTQ+ New Yorkers, the question is whether this moment of visibility and inclusion will translate into material improvements in their lives—better access to affirming healthcare, stronger protections against discrimination, more resources for homeless LGBTQ+ youth, and policies that center the needs of the most marginalized.

What's certain is that Abby Stein's appointment represents a shift in what's possible in American municipal politics. A transgender rabbi, shaped by her journey from the Hasidic community to progressive activism, is now helping to shape policy for a city of nearly 8 million people. That's not just a win for LGBTQ+ representation—it's a win for the principle that all of us, regardless of our identities or backgrounds, have something valuable to contribute to the work of building a more just and equitable city.

The right-wingers can rage on social media all they want. Stein will be in the room where it happens.