Eight days without bread, pasta and cereal. My diet instead consists of lots of fruit, potatoes and of course matzo — that infamous crunchy, bland, unleavened bread that my stomach and bowels both dread.

What my insides must understand is that I am conforming to the dietary restrictions Jewish law imposes as a means of commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. The story is familiar: After Egypt suffered from 10 ruthless plagues, one of which took the life of every Egyptian firstborn child, the pharaoh finally relented and agreed to free the Jews from bondage. But the Jews did not have much time. They needed to leave Egypt quickly, before the pharaoh changed his mind. Indeed, the Jews left so quickly they did not even have time to let their bread rise. So instead of taking bread with them, they took matzo.

Surely, the Jews suffered in Egypt. They were slaves and were treated as such. They endured lashings, beatings and malnourishment — just ask Charlton Heston.

But, what if denying ourselves bread is not enough to commemorate the Exodus? How can we understand such an intense, hard-fought cry for freedom by performing a largely symbolic gesture? Much of modern Jewry struggles to relate to the plight of its ancestors simply by keeping a strict diet.

The Jews were oppressed in Egypt, and they were denied the most basic human rights. Today, in a country that more than six million Jews call home, another group is facing unacceptable injustice.

In 1969, Americans witnessed the Stonewall Riots initiate the modern gay rights movement. On June 28, a group of New York City police officers performed a routine raid on The Stonewall Inn, a well-known gay bar in Greenwich Village. Raids on gay bars were routine in 1960s America, as the gay rights movement took a back seat to other impactful social movements such as the civil and women’s rights movements. But patrons at The Stonewall Inn in the early morning hours of that historic June day decided not to settle or be overshadowed by other equally powerful cries for freedom and equality. Instead, they fought back and began a struggle for gay rights that continues today.

Progress has been made. Stonewall inaugurated the movement, and 44 years later the first sitting president has offered his support for the right of same-sex couples to marry. President Obama invoked Stonewall alongside Selma and Seneca Falls, the credited birthplaces for civil and women’s rights movements, respectively, in his second inaugural address to illustrate the longing for freedom ingrained in every American heart. Nine states and Washington now recognize same-sex marriages. Just last week, a CNN poll found that 56 percent of Americans say the federal government should recognize same-sex marriages.

The tide of history is turning. As has been proclaimed by numerous elected officials, liberal and conservative alike, widespread legal recognition of same-sex marriage is inevitable. And it should be. The right to marry, and to have marriage legally recognized as a sacred, holy bond, should not be denied to any American. Marriage equality is only the first step. In the words of the famed rapper Macklemore, “A certificate on paper isn’t gonna solve it all, but it’s a damn good place to start.”

So, let us remember the Passover story, and let us learn the lessons it teaches us. Let us hear and remember the cries for freedom uttered by those Jews who struggled to escape from slavery. But remembering is not enough. Let us continue to fight the unending battle for liberty and equality — a battle fought by Jews and non-Jews alike; a battle that has been repeatedly won, and a battle that must be won again.

Ben Kramer is a sophomore government and politics and history major. He can be reached at bkramer1@terpmail.umd.edu.