Welcome to Friendship Seder 2020 and beyond. Hopefully we can keep this Haggadah going, as long as there aren't any timely jokes or mentions of exes. Get ready for a night of questions + marshmallows, hunger + horseradish, singing + yelling, play readings + Matthew McConaughey impressions, 4 cups of wine + someone always crying, and more. 

In the northern hemisphere, Passover coincides with the beginning of spring which is a time of renewal, regrowth and regeneration. It's also a time to tell winter a true "bye bye" as we are ready to dust ourselves off and rejoin the world of the living. What a better time to examine how the past 12 months have gone and commit new promises to ourselves and the world? Passover als coincides with Aries season, a sign known for their courage, honesty and generosity. Let's keep these traits in mind as we work through this year's seder. How fitting that the seder ends in a song about a lil goat?

Before we start, let's uphold one tradition we’ve now adopted from Sophie Busby's family. Every year, her family starts the seder by inviting someone who couldn’t be here for whatever reason. They could be far away, they could have passed away, they could be fictional characters, celebrities or unattainable crushes. Let's go around and share who we want to invite.


Passover is a holiday of renewal, of growth, of new birth and everything that spring has to offer. It has become tradition mainly in queer seders to bring flowers, sticks, and stones to symbolize what has lined the paths which brought us here today. Flowers obviously represent the beauty and growth we've experienced, while sticks and stones represent the challenges (yes, it's super cliche but *shrug emoji*). So let's take a look at this very handsome bouquet while  Blowing the Fluff Away  by Robyn Sarah is read:

The sprig of unknown bloom you sent last fall

spent the long winter drying on my wall,

mounted on black. But it had turned to fluff

some months ago. Tonight I took it down

because I thought that I had had enough

of staring at it. Brittle, dry and brown,

it seemed to speak too plainly of a waste

of friendship, forced to flower, culled in haste.

So, after months of fearing to walk past

in case the stir should scatter it to bits,

I took it out to scatter it at last

with my own breath, and so to call us quits.

—Fooled! for the fluff was nothing but a sheath,

with tiny, perfect flowers underneath.

haggadah Section: Introduction