Monday, March 15

join the conversation

yesterday, i attended the jofa conference at columbia university. it was a day celebrating feminism and prompting conversation on controversial issues within the modern orthodox world. i never understood feminism nor do i consider myself a feminist. i still don't quite understand the phenomenon, even after spending nine hours at the conference listening to speakers discuss 'feminist' topics at length.

i was drawn to the conference from the moment i saw an advertisement online. the topics sounded so intriguing - ranging from mehitzahs (physical dividers between men and women that exist in most orthodox synagogues) to the creation of new rituals. there must have been over fifty classes to choose from! i was intrigued, signed up, and convinced my friend nina to sign up too.

nina and i arrived in an overtired, overly caffeinated daze. we hurried in, found seats in the back of the big auditorium, and began looking through our course list to see who we wanted to hear speak for the rest of the day. just as quickly as we began searching through our conference pamphlets, we found ourselves gazing forward, about a hundred and fifty feet away, toward the front of the room. there was a woman there, speaking about her new identity as a rabba. she was recently ordained as the first female, orthodox rabbi by a yeshiva close by. her words were mesmerizing and i quickly closed my book to listen fully. she spoke of many issues which permeated throughout the entire conference, including equality, knowledge, understanding, and dialogue. this woman standing before the few hundred women and men in the columbia auditorium, had defied the odds. not only that, she had defied the boundaries set forth for her within her religion. she questioned it, persisted, never gave up, and ultimately, prevailed in her quest to become a jewish leader - one with a title equivalent to her male counterpart.

the first class i took was on prayer through art. nina actually ditched me to go downstairs for a more heavy topic (women of the wall - i really wish i had heard that, too!) and i stayed upstairs in a small conference room with five others ranging in age from their early twenties to mid seventies. the speaker began by introducing the idea of expression through artistic dimensions and shared some of her own artwork. it was stunning. she was inspired by prayer - both communal and personal - and expressed it in a very clear way in her artwork. she then gave us worksheets to pick a prayer, personal or communal, and create our own piece of artwork. i thought for a moment and immediately knew what to create.


this quilted piece represents how i was feeling about prayer. i am the bottom right corner, sitting amidst the world. the sky is above the world, with god hovering within it. i am saying the shema blessing, which begins with the hebrew word "shema" or "listen" in english. the letters are scattered and uneven. they are going upward, toward the eternal, but are not quite making it. there is a barrier of purple between me and the prayer and between the prayer and god. it's like the words are there but the connection is not quite formed.

i went to many other classes at the conference, all of which inspired me more and more to learn about my personal role in judaism. my religion is not about my husband or my family or my rabbi. it's about myself and how i personally fit into the mold - and, how i don't fit into the mold. an example of this can be pulled from a class i went to on ritual and traditions. the speakers were incredible! they talked about how women are often excluded from ritual. this doesn't simply mean they are stuck behind the opaque mehitzah, but that the rituals are just not for them. an example of this involves a three-year-old boy. at this age, it is believed that boys should begin the process of adulthood and there is a ceremony, often involving a first hair cut, that allows this child's life and entrance toward a true childhood, to be celebrated. there is no equivalent ceremony for a girl so one of the presenters created one and called it a simcha (celebration in english) bat (daughter in english). this celebration was not simply a birthday party either. it was bringing the daughter up to the torah scroll, in front of her whole congregation, and presenting her to it and it to her. this moment was a milestone in her life and after that day, her role in the her family and community was transformed.

as i traveled from room to room throughout the day, i thought about all of the jewish people, both men and women, in my life who had given up on their faith. this is such a common theme in life. if something's too tough or if you don't agree with it, cross it off your list. that's it. but why don't we ever embrace who we are? some things are just part of us. if you hate your hair color, why not work with it instead of changing it? why do people reject religion simply on the premise of hearing one thing they don't agree with?

i also thought about the jewish men and women who i don't know personally but are very well-known in the world. the example that stuck in my mind throughout the conference was supreme court justice ruth bader ginsburg. recently, i reread the book 'stars of david', in which ruth bader ginsburg is interviewed. she was chosen to be a part of this compilation because she is 1. famous and 2. jewish. but, she has ditched the religion. she states it's not a part of her life anymore. despite being raised in a fairly observant home, she believes that the gender roles and negative attitude toward women are what drove her away from it. she gave up on something that was intrinsically part of who she was -- no, IS. who she IS. though i strongly feel that ruth bader ginsburg is one of the most influential members of american society, i often wonder who she would be if she had embraced her jewish identity from a young age and allowed it to mold the person who she has become.

in my opinion, the theme of this conference was dialogue. "join the conversation" was the term coined for the logo. this isn't a NEW concept. let me put it this way. when my students, often my 8th/9th graders at the reconstructionist synagogue i teach at, comment about hating god, disliking judaism, or thinking kosher is just plain stupid - i tell them that i love their opinions and i want to know more. once when this happened, i opened up a chumash (torah prayer book). i showed them the torah's text (on the top right) and then i said - "class, what else do you see on this page?". and of course their answers are just mumbles of "lots of hebrew". well, i then explained that this "hebrew" that they see is a dialogue that jews have created throughout our history. and then i explain that this dialogue is treated with utmost importance - we, as modern jews, listen to it in almost the same light as we listen to god's words of the actual torah! now this blows them away and i'm sure they probably don't buy it. but - it's the truth. judaism stresses dialogue, conversation, questioning - you name it. you can't have blind faith in something you don't agree with. at least i don't believe that.

listen, i'm not saying all of this orthodox business comes easy to me. i miss lobster and clam chowder more than you can imagine. but what i am saying is that i am on a lifelong quest of questioning who i am and seeking answers. i might not be entirely comfortable or accepting of everything i was born into, religion included, but i am eager to expand my knowledge of my identity instead of that of someone else.