Ki Sarita

update on the lady upstairs- and now her rebbetizn

2011-11-16T07:42:00.000-08:00

Summary: Some folks may recall from a while back that my neighbor had been playing shiurim in the middle of the night to drown out the sound of any male or male sounding voice coming from my apartment. After being jolted out of my sleep repeatedly by my neighbor's blasting shiurim, I appealed to her Rebbetzin for help.
The following is a section of our correspondence.

Message body

Judging from the end of your letter, you have an agenda that has deeper roots than the present issue. You no doubt have all sorts of issues with the frum community, coming from personal history that has nothing to do with [_name of neighbor____], and even less to do with me.
You have to separate your issues about the tape from your feelings about frum people (and I am more than happy to talk to you about, you obviously have suffered and no doubt have justified feelings about the world that I represent to you). [_______] doesn’t want to be a victim of what she considers to be both an annoyance an spiritual pollution. To her, spiritual pollution is as real as physical pollution. You don’t want to have to adjust your life to her reality. Her tapes are your version of “spiritual pollution”. It isn’t just the noise, but what it represents to you.
In order to find a solution, there has to be MUTUAL respect. That means that you have to be willing to show the same level of respect for her integrity, beliefs, and desire for privacy as you would like her to extend to YOUR integrity, privacy and belief system. If you would like to call me together with her to find a solution (which invariably would leave neither of you completely satisfied) it is only worthwhile doing so if you can express yourself with respect for her, me and yourself. Your right to privacy and to not be “invaded” is neither more nor less basic than her rights to the same.
All the best to you,

It's All In the Family- the new middle east and us

2011-06-04T23:44:00.001-07:00

Seems like the Arab world, and our own brothers and sisters the Palestinians has discovered civil disobedience.
Isn't this the moment we've all been waiting for?
Haven't we've been saying for years, If only the Arabs would lay down their arms there would be peace?

I'm not so sure.

The friends and relatives I spoke to today seemed insistent that not only was change happening it never would happen, and was in any case impossible. Now maybe i'm wrong in my assessment but the point is, They were not only insistent but apparently dependent on the truth of the impossibility of it. They needed it to be so.

This is not too different from some of the intimate relationship we all have been in. (family, romantic).
There's a lot of people we kvetch, condemn and complain about.
Parents. We sadly tell our self righteous stories about them rejecting us and cutting us off.
Then what do we do when they make a step toward, such as a good yom tov call? Do we smile and greet them, or more often than not do we EXPLODE with accumulated rage?
What about our deadbeat boyfriend. We kvetch and complain and nag about him not getting a job, sleeping til noon and watching TV for the rest of the day. We circle help wanted and other such stuff which he ignores. But what do we do when he lands a business gig, although a different type and in a different way than we expected? do we express unreserved enthusiasm or do we just as often find ways to criticize and doomsay the new endeavor?

Relationships are patterned like a dance; as dysfunctional as they may be they are predictable, we know our role, and the pattern has evolved to serve some need or another. So when our intimate partner takes a new step, a step we've been begging for all along, we are thrown out of balance. We are left with the choice to undermine them- (we deny, we increase the intensity of our previous behavior), or to strike a new balance of our own.

And Israel, being as we are in such an entangled, intimate relationship with our Palestinian brothers and sisters, what mold do we choose in the event that we get what we've long asked for. Do we seek to jog them back into the old mode by increasingly provocative and repressive activities so that we can respond in our old confident way? do we deny that anything is going on? Or do we move towards power sharing; and
can we welcome the uncerstain future with open arms?

on bugs, matzas, and mikvehs

2011-04-03T18:00:00.000-07:00

Every year I bake Matzas.
First I joined a kiruv organization on their annual matza factory trip, where we all joined the assembly line, rolled our sections of dough and passed it along.
Then, Last year I joined a Yemeni woman in her home, baking thick matzas in her Yemeni-imported gas oven. I watched as she needed the dough and plastered it to the sides of the oven, sticking her hand almost into the fire, admonishing me to keep moving, moving, reminding me to wash my hands, though she had never learned a single halacha at school.

This year I called her back; "We'd like to come again this year>"
"I can't, I'm working in the Satmar matza bakery for pay"

The Satmar bakery was a pleasant place and there was a large room full of women, yemeni and chassidish with rolling pins. The atmosphere in the room was calm and pleasant. The dough was handed to the women who passed it to eachother, rolled ,
A pleasant Chassidishe guy ran around supervising.
It was matzas but it wasn't the same.

after 18 minutes we all washed our hands. A hasidic girl turned to me. "Am I supposed to show my nails to someone?"

Not as far as I know, I said. After all this isn't a mikvah.

But I was wrong; a few rounds later one of the women came to spot check my hands. Ironically she also sometimes functioned as a mikveh attendant. Coincidence?

I know it seems odd to view Yemeni women as empowered. Married in their early teens with little say in the matter, but at least they were queens, artist, professionals in their own kitchens.

Reminds me of a frum advertisement I saw- Bug Checking Class Coming To Your Area!.... For men only????

The truth is that ANY Jewish housewife with a kosher kitchen is a ritual expert.

But without Rabbinic (or designee thereoff- the mikveh lady) approval they can't be trusted to know whether they are on their menstrual period or not, if there are bugs in there vegetables, or if their own fingernails are clean.

find me

2010-09-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

When my nephew was still a toddler
he played hide and seek
I'd go off to count to ten
and he'd go off and crawl under the table
same place every time,
And start shrieking,
"Find me! Find me!"
and pant with excitement, when indeed, I swooped under the table, and
Found him.

We all just wanna get found, even though by now, we're too mature and dignified to out and say it.

Why people convert to Judaism

2010-09-11T23:16:00.000-07:00

From an anonymous comment by a self identified "lapsing ger":

"... Almost all share a need for community (an almost universal need in an era lacking in community), experience isolation and sense that they were "always different" (which is to say, they feel like everyone else...), a need for spiritual dimension (shared with many other rational people, etc) - judaism seems to offer all those things in one package, and people who will 'unconditionally' accept you and get you happily married. Oh - and you get to be an archetypal "Other" of great historical significance."

Comment by Ki Sarita:

The last statement is what I most relate to- being an archetypal "other" of great historical significance. I was born Jewish, of course, but I get such a charge out of that aspect that I kind of get why some people long so much to get in.

The chosen people theology popular amongst american fundamentalist christians also feeds into this mentality.

We all feel a sense of otherness, and people who are lucky enough to have been born into an "othered" group have something to hang it on, and more, have a postive outlet for it.

(Some do it to try to escape another othered group, but that's another issue)

Does it work? Lapsing doesn't think so:

"My view of the REALITY of such peoples feelings and drives is that for MANY of them, if not most, Judaism would not and will not salve their problems, will not actually fill the voids, will not make the best of them as people"
__________________

Comment by Ki Sarita:

I think so too. You can never escape yourself by becoming someone else. If you can't love yourself, the you who you were since the day you were born, can anything really help?

However, as lapsing continues: "the need for a mode of spiritual connection and expression beyond the personal, the sense of identity other than as an individual I think are also likewise very, very valid needs"

and in today's society which is so built upon the individual alone, although I oppose conversion, I kind of feel bad for those people who can't have their needs met. These are some of the things that are available to me within Judaism, and I don't have to believe in anything in particular to reap the benefits, having been born Jewish. I can take it or leave it as I choose, not like a convert.

I oppose conversion. It also threatens me because if Judaism becomes primarily a belief system, a religion like Islam or Christianity instead, than I'm out.
It also threatens everything I, as well as potential gerim, have to gain out of Judaism; if anyone and everyone can join at will than it's no longer a tribe, no more feeling of tribalism.

(I say this with a caveat because I think Islam breeds a sense of tribalism despite its huge size, a spread of Arabian culture. In fact I'm pretty sure that's why some people choose it.)

But once the converts are here I say there should be a concerted effort on the part of the mainstream community to marry them to born Jews, preferably born observant jews, becasue the only way that conversion can work is if they integrate into the peoplehood. Also otherwise they could form parallel communities with different ethos, interests, and weltenshaung (sp?).

Excuse me for rambling, will sort out this post later.

Denominations

2010-08-21T10:00:00.000-07:00

Denominations are for institutions, not for people.

On the Sheitel v. Tichel controversy

2010-08-15T20:55:00.000-07:00

My comment on another blog, on the common question on why it is ok for frum women to wear sheitels that actually look better than their hair:

There is a mistaken assumption underlying this post; and that is that head-coverings are all about modesty. They are not. Absent the symbolic value, their is nothing more intrinsically modest about a headcovering, in contrast to a long skirt or loose clothes.

They are symbols of A. Social status and B. sexual unavailability which among women go hand in hand; social class is based on sexuality.

Actually headcoverings do little to make a woman more modest.Therei is nothing Women of African descent often cover their heads with tichels, for comfort and convenience and to protect their hairdos, or sometimes, as decorative. They do not increase the woman’s modesty in any way. They do not make her any less sexually alluring.

In the frum community, we acknowledge as such, otherwise we would not differentiate between single and married women.

Head coverings have a long history in middle eastern cultures, ours included. In ancient mesopotamia, upper class women were required to cover their heads, while lower class women and prostitutes not only were not required but were actually forbidden to cover their heads under some stiff penalties. Thus we see that headcoverings serve as a marker of social status- but more, that social status amongst women is correlated with their sexuality.

In the modern middle east today, with the islamist resurgence, a related dynamic operates. Women who cover their heads are respectable, those who don’t are not and may sometimes even be sexually harrassed. Once again, we see the link between female respectability and sexuality.

In Orthodoxy today, we differentiate between higher status, unavailable, married women, and lower status, available single women. For all of you who have not had the great fortune of being a middle aged single in the frum community, you may think I exaggerate. Those of you who share my experience know I speak the truth.

Even women who are not particularly concerned with modesty, who go to shul in very short skirts, will nevertheless put some kind of makeshift covering on their head, while single women no matter how modestly dressed will not. Rather she is expressing her status, a status of respectability that a single has no right to claim.

That married woman is not expressing her modesty, but she is not being hypocritical. She is being quite consistent, since in contemporary American society, a sexually alluring appearance does not necessarily indicate sexual availability. In American law, a woman may not be touched against her will no matter what she is or is not wearing. In American society a display of sexual attractiveness is itself a mark of status rather than of shame, and may be worn strictly for that reason. (Of course this is but the flip side of the same dynamic).

Thus a glamorous wig, does not violate the spirit of the mitzva but is very much in consonance with it; the wig’s glamour is appropriate to the high status of the married woman. On the other hand, a single woman who would wear a glamorous wig would indeed be guilty of assuming airs that are not rightfully hers. And she doesn't even need a halacha to tell her that.

religion and relationships

2010-06-27T15:31:00.000-07:00

I always believe religion shouldn't destroy relationships. And maybe I feel so strongly about that because it's destroyed every one of mine.

I didn't have a single person I could talk to. Not family, not friends. So little by little I ditched them all. My family relationships became polite superficial and meaningless, and in my early twenties I dropped ALL my friends.

The truth is I dropped some that I should have and could have stuck with. Some were people who sought me out. What could be better than that? I snubbed them because they seemed clingy to me.

(I have social difficulties to start off with, so that could be part of it.)

The problem is I didn't easily make new ones.

And got in a very bad habit of friend dropping. From the girl who wrote letters every week, I'm the one you never hear from, who feels closer to people on facebook I've never met than to people I've known my whole life. I pick up people but with very few exceptions, fade, drift, out of each other's lives as our geographical, philosophical, and whatever other kind of circumstances change.

The times I started to draw closer to my family I was met with such control freaky attempts (which is really not like them, except when it comes to religion) I turned around and ran.

Today reading those old letters I started to miss, miss, really miss, those kids I abandoned, my younger siblings. Now the one left abandoned is me.

And I don't know how to fix it.

The aftermath of brainwashing

2010-06-27T11:05:00.001-07:00

On a dusty shelf in the back of some closet somewhere there lies buried a box full of old letters, photos, cards, and faxes. This is my seminary box; a box I no longer look at; a box with hints to times of which I’m not proud; that point to a self that I’d rather not remember. Some are letters from me to my family, with the pro-kollel propagandist Divre Torah that I once found inspiring. Some are from my mom to me, in the name of the whole family of course, reporting sabbath table discussions on whom I might marry.

From a previous post, Outsiders (see sidebar)

So cleaning out my house today, I pulled out the old box after all these years.

Some of them are not as bad as I remember, some are.

Sometimes my own self peeks through timidly. Very timidly. Like objecting to people taunting Arabs in the old city. But sometimes I'm worse than the worse racist or biggest chenyuk.

None of the angst and depression that I was going through shines through, except one0
"I need help! The world is flat! Everything ends after this year- what do I do next!" Sadly I received no answer to that. (No one knew, of course, about my fantasy drawer with the college and peace corps brochures. Even I didn't relate to it as any more than a fantasy).

(Or the time I said, have you ever heard of a Rabbi who got angry when you disagreed with him? I was repeating what I was fed, not what I had experienced... Well, not usually angry per se, but dismissive in a manipulative way)

None of the brain fog I felt comes through. I sound so clear, and so passionate, and often at many times I was, to the point of being opinionated. Most of my doubts, and my fog were taking place on a subliminal level at the time.

I find myself wondering what to do with this box. If I suddenly died, would that be the legacy I left behind to my kids (if I ever have any)? The closedmindedness, brainwashed, party line spouter (usually). But I can't bring myself to throw it out. I've thought of adding my subsequent writings to the pile.

In some ways I've changed a lot. Mostly my opinions. But in someways I'm still the same person. Inside I'm still the seminary girl, hungry for understanding, knowledge, insight and connection. The offbeat, melodramatic one, the ham, the debater yet most often the loner. I'm Still Alice.

So its the opinions that I expressed, sometimes so vociferously that has changed. In some ways embarrassingly slow.

I'm amazed that I could have ever been so brainwashed. Even more amazed than at the fact that I got out.

But I didn't get out without a price.

The experience of having been brainwashed is still with me today.

I'm never secure of my judgement, never secure of my perceptions. Did that really happen? Did I really hear that? Do I really think that? I'm afraid to put opinions in writing, for fear I may change my mind, for fear I may relate to it 10 years from now as I relate to my seminary letters.

And every time I strike out on my own, as I am poised to do today, I hear a voice telling me how ridiculous and stupid I am to ever dare think I could, or have the right.

___________

For an amazing post on brainwashed, looking back, see this post by Hasidic Rebel.

The Religion Triangle: My husband my daughter and me

2010-05-17T17:09:00.000-07:00

My response to this dilemma

My opinion is that the standard of the more meykel parent is what should be the rule.

This is because the child retains the option to choose to be more machmir without being disloyal to the other parent, whereas the other way around there's no choice, so one parent's values (in this case you) gets compromised.

However, I would not pretend to agree with the rule if I didn't. It's a terrible thing to misrepresent yourself in your most intimate relationships, which includes parent- child relationships. If your husband absolutely insists and really can't come around to your point of view, I'd say, "daddy and I have sometimes have different opinions but we've decided that there is only one rule, and this is what we've decided it is."

(but remember, compromise is mutual... if you end up being the one always doing the compromising, something's wrong...)

You're also role modeling that people can disagree but still come to a practical modus operandi. You're also role modeling expressing your authentic self to her, and hopefully she will reciprocate. If you role model hypocricy than I agree with the commenter who said "congratulations, you have just taught her to sneak better."

Caveat: I'm neither a parent nor a spouse, and even if I was, all relationships are different.

Friends with Arabs

2010-05-12T20:42:00.000-07:00

Why does it feel like to sympathize with one is to betray the other? When your friends you've known your whole life have rocks thrown at their cars in Jerusalem, but your new friend gets humiliated trying to travel El Al?

Added note: And why am I so terrified to offend (usually the Arab side, but not always). And why stay friends if I am.

Lies of the Walking Wounded

2010-05-12T20:41:00.000-07:00

A few years back I was on the NJ transit one Saturday night coming into New York; perhaps because its not prime commuter time you get somewhat of a different element. Hint: It's not the element who can afford cars.

Anyway a couple of my train-mates began a game of Jewish geography, except that they weren't Jewish. They were quite friendly to me but I had to bow out of the game, because as a former bais yacov chick I didn't know anyone from the same world... Turns out that between them they had quite some working experience and common connections in the sex entertainment industry, sometimes involving raids, shutdowns and re start ups. "Let the good times roll" was their motto, and the conversation turned to topics I could better join; like Elliot Spitzer whose behavior they heartily approved.

The young woman sitting near me was on her way to a party downtown and she invited me to come along but I told her I didn't think I'd fit in well. When we landed in New York (the others had alighted beforehand) we proceeded together to the subway. She told me a bit about the ups and downs of her relationship with her girlfriend. About partying and about how it wasn't working to stave off depression. This was something I could relate to. By the time we parted ways she was practically begging me to come to the party, and gave me her card. "You're mad cool," she said.

Moi? Mad cool? I'm an older, staid, middle class woman from a totally different walk of life, and not one that she seemed to especially like.

But for a brief period I had been someone she could entrust with her pain.

The Man Who Almost

2010-04-25T10:40:00.000-07:00

Anyone who cares about STOPPING THE CYCLE OF SEXUAL ABUSE has to read this.

A Confession of Being Abused And Abusing

By A Man who Almost.

Healthcare: an American Religion

2010-01-10T07:14:00.001-08:00

The myth of modern health care is very similar to the typical religious myth: You engage in particular rituals- appointments, physicals, various screening tests- so that the powers that be will grant you health, welfare and happiness.

Their is a ritual for every stage of the lifecycle. Your childhood vaccinations. Your first pap smear to mark your initiation into sexual activity. Your mammogram at forty. Your colonoscopy at fifty. (All sacralized by numerous forms and signatures, in lieu of benedictions and incantations).

Every visit is marked by ritual as well. Whether or not it has anything to do with the reason you are there, it entails your Blood Pressure, your pulse, and your weight. If you are pregnant, it entails a urinalysis.

Pregnancy is a time ritualized like no other. Your ritual examinations are scheduled exactly a week apart, exactly at the appointed ritual time. Each visit follows its own ritualized protocol depending on which week of the pregnancy you are. And if you are like most others, you do all these things obediently, even enthusiastically, no matter the inconvenience, certain that these are the steps determined by the powers that be to ensure you a healthy baby.

Little do you know. Little do you know what percentage of these practices are actually beneficial to your health, and what percentage is there to keep the hospital industrial machine running smoothly, what percentage are chumras that inconveninence and terrify you, in order to protect US from YOU blaming us on the off chance that something totally beyond our control happens to you. And what percentage don't fit into ANY of the above category but are just chumras that got way out of control, and now everyone does them because they THINK, erroneously that since its always been done and everyone else is doing it, the medical halacha most certainly requires it. (The cesaerean section, which is over 30 percent of births in new york city, is an example that fits into most of those categories).

I'm your nurse.

I'm the one who reviews the forms with you, explains the procedures, and wheedles you into acceptance. (Since after all, the Supreme Court has upheld the doctrine of informed consent). I'm your angel in white. You think. Just like your Rabbi, I'm the one you turn to with questions, doubts, complaints. I'm the one you turn to for reassurance. In nursing school, we were told that we were the "patient's advocate," and that is how I represent myself to you. But more often than not, I find myself advocating for the system to you, because that's why they hired me.

Nurses are the ones responsible for having the system run smoothly. Like frum kids who dare read the "wrong" book, patients who don't do exactly and immediately as the Dr says can stall the assembly line. What's more, if I advocate for you and not for the system, you may come back and bite my behind one day. You may come back and sue me. And I would lose, because the system, the protocol, the halacha always wins in a court of lay jurors, who are convinced, just as thoroughly as you are, in the infallibility of the anonymous but revered protocol writers.

But I'm different than most of your nurses. Like your Rabbis, most of them don't even question the validity of the established policy- they take it as a given. But I'm so limited in what I can do. Like holding your bread through a plastic bag so you don't have to do נטילת ידיים, I cut corners of the protocol when I can get away with it. I know how to phrase my objection to MY posek, the MD's the right way, so that I can occasionally obtain the desired response. Sometimes I even skate a bit to close of pissing off the powers that be. There is another way I'm different than your other nurses- I give a damn. I care. I'm emotionally invested. That's why you always ask for me when you arrive. And that's another way health care is like religion- the ones who care the most are the ones who are the most tormented.

I suspected this when I started out. But I needed that degree. I needed it, it was my ticket out of Bais Yakov. It was my ticket to independence. My ticket to freedom.
But now I wonder whether I simply exchanged one kind of servitude for another, and whether I've sold my soul just as thoroughly as if I would have stayed.

No Hollywood Romance Ending

2010-01-02T22:09:00.001-08:00

The only reason two people would not do so [live together in relative peace] is because they are both concentrating their vision on unimportant and negligible differences between them, yet they overlook the vast amount of things they have in common with one another."(from here)

There's a common theme in chick lit, where the heroine realizes near the end of the book, that she has rejected the true Mr. Right in favor of some cute dumb ass bad boy. Mr Right is the kind of guy who was always there for her, was her shoulder to cry on through all the mr wrongs... But now it's too late because Mr Right is now seeing her best friend or will never talk to her again or both. But somehow, with the right combination of remorse, a flood of tears, and the perfect go-between, he comes back takes her in his arms and they live happily ever after.

Well, Ki Sarita is a real person, not a movie heroine. And Sugar Baby won't be coming back. He's going to live happily ever after with someone else, someone who didn't drey him around, someone who doesn't put him on the back burner just because of he's a christian (So what?! Why did I ever care about that?!) And Ki Sarita isn't going to let go with a flood of tears- at least not in front of him. Because he deserves better than being someone's backup man, and he finally got it.

No, Ki Sarita is not the heroine of this story. More like the dumb ass.

The Fifty Year Old Virgin

2009-12-07T06:21:00.000-08:00

DISCLAIMER: In truth I consider this my own title a bit offensive..... I remember that I objected to the movie the "Forty Year Old Virgin".

I have another very dear friend, also a virgin at midlife (though not shomer negiah). The difference is that my friend acknowledges her own pain and loss (whether that makes it better or worse for her i can not say.... )

Celibacy is a respectable choice and the choice not to have sex does not make one childlike/immature/pathetic and people who make such a choice is no cause for stigma anymore than loss of virginity use to be a stigma in the old days.

I do not believe that a person's identity should be defined by their sexual activities...

unless they let it, as in the following behavior. Read on.
***

I've always thought I had cool neighbors, despite living in a really frummed out area. Traditional Israelis on one side, and above me, a mniddle aged frum woman, very very sheltered, the type who asks a shyla before even walking down the street- but never bothersome, always sweet. Like me, she is single and in a dead end job, only a few years down the road in the same situation. With one difference- which you'll soon see. We bought eachother shalach monos and such.

So one time, at 1 am, I was quite surprise to hear a radio turn on at full blast. Actually, not quite a radio... a recording- of a shiur. Rabbi Frand, who then quickly switched to Rebbetzin Heller....Now I know she likes to listen to these shiurim on Thursday nights, but at such volume? Had she suddenly gone deaf?

I was already in bed. My boyfriend was still on the computer, but we both had a full day ahead. I phoned, but no one answered, knocked on the door and still no one answered. "Maybe something is wrong," my boyfriend suggested "and she's lying on the floor signalling." It was farfetched, but I started to get nervous. I began to climb the fire escape, calling her name.

Finally she responded. She phoned. Her voice, aggrieved and self righteous: "If I have to listen to you having sex, then this is my only solution to drown you out!" and the crowning touch, "I want to live in a frum place! I'm going to tell the landlord!" Lady, tell the landlord. I wish you luck.

"The only solution." Poor thing. How lonely, hopeless and frustrating it must be for her. As it often is for me. Am I going to be like that if I'm age? Forever depressed, paranoid and hostile around happy couples? With no solution to end my misery except to drown out other people's happiness? (She refuses to buy a rug, for example, use a headset/ earplugs, or simply phone politely saying "please keep it down")

You try listening to Rebbetzin Heller for four hours straight in the middle of the night. No offense to her but you won't be in the greatest of moods. I felt like screaming But what do you say when you know someone is hurting.

The funny thing is that we weren't even having sex at the time. (so i'm actually kinda relieved- she can't hear THAT well what's going on). (But then again that's probably worse- someone who's shomer at her age has probably stunted her sex drive until its withered away, but she must still need someone to cuddle her and thing she's beautiful).

She pulled the same shtick again once at six in the morning when me and a male (non romantic guest) were getting ready to leave the house for work. And the other day, she pulled the same shtick in the middle of the night, for hours, when me and my female friend were just chatting quietly before going to bed (separately).When that happened I just lost my self control. "You need to get laid already!" I ranted. "You need help!"

She was shocked. "Don't talk to me so lewdly!" she said. "I'm waiting until I get married!" Good luck to her again- what a woman lacks in youthful appearance she can make up with passion, drive and experience, but post menopausal virginity isn't a high commodity, not even in the frum shidduch market.

(Although there are always those geezers like my great uncle who got married, cuz its cheaper than hiring a housekeeper).

But she phoned back for her parting shot "YOU need help. YOU're the one being treated as a sex object."

Dat be true, at least sometimes. And yeah, it can be painful. A painful sort of sweetness. Ha, But don't you wish you be one too?
(certainly less painful and more sweet that being treated as a housekeeping object that be sure.)

But I shut back up. I had already hurt her in her sorest spot. And that's always wrong, no matter how angry you are, there are some places you just don't touch people. Especially when you might be feeling the same way one day.

אל נורא עלילה

2009-12-05T07:04:00.000-08:00

(evolution is really such a frum theory)

אני מאמינה שהאנושות וכן העולם כולו הנו על סף שינוי מהותי,( וזה אולי אפילו כבר התחיל)- הן בתודעה ויתכן אף במבנה הביולוגי של הגוף והמח. תהליך זה מכונה אבולוציה בשפת המדע, שפירושה התפתחות ושינוי הדרגתי
לפי החוקרים האנושות של היום כולה צאצאים של כשש מאות נפש בלבד של יצורים קדם-אנושיים ממזרח אפריקה, שרידים היחידים שנותרו אחרי מאות שנים של מהפכות קיצוניות באקלים, קר וחם וכל מה שביניהם, ומשם נפוצו על כל פני האדמה.
ה"נח"ים האלה (על שם הנח ששרד בתנ"ך), השרידים היחידים, ככל הנראה, שרדו עקב הצלחתם בפיתוח כישורים חדשים בקצב הולך ומהיר, להתמודד עם המהפכה העוקפת אותם, הנוטלת את נפשותיהם. בניית אש. יצירת כלים. ואולי מעבר לכל- כח דיבור- דהיינו תקשורת. ואני אוהבת לחשוב שאף פיתחו מעין דת כזו, אמונה המעניקה תחושת משמעות, המחזיקה את הרצון לשרד בעידן שכל הסובב מתמוטט.
כישורים אלה לא נוצרו בכוונה, אלא, כשיטת האבולוציה הידועה, התפתחו בסדרה של צעדים קטנטנים, ניסויים קטנים, המכונה מוטציה בשפת המדע, שרוב המוחלט מהם נועדו לכשלון ומעטים הם המוצלחים, שישרדו להוביל לצעד הבא בתהליך.וכן ה"נח"ים, לאחר היתוכם בכור הברזל, הלכו למלא את הארץ ולכבשה עד היום הזה שהננו עומדים שוב על סף משבר בטבע ובאקלים.

בניגוד לחכמי המדע הדוגלים באקראיות התהליך, אני מאמינה שיש רצון העומד מאחוריו, רצון איום בגדלו ונורא בעיצומו.אבל גם רצון שמושרש לתוכך כל הנברא, לתוך כל תא, לכל אטום ולכל אחד מאתנו: רצון ושאיפה לתודעה מורחבת ואני מאמינה שזוהי וכיוון כל האבולוציה כולה- מהדומם לחי לצומח ולמדבר- לנו. לכן אני מאמינה שתכלית עבודתנו כיום היא שנפעל עם כל מגבלותנו לפתח עינינו לבנו להכיר להשיל ולהבין ולשתף אחרים אתנו,עד שיא יכלתנו.
מדובר, כמובן לא רק בהתפתחות רוחנית תרבותית ושכלית, אלא גם בפיזולוגיה עצמה, עד שנהיה לזן חדש. וזה צריך להיות ברור מאליו- כל כלי יכול להחזיק רק עד כמות מסוימת וכיון שמגיע לשיא יכולתו אין לתוכן היכן לצמוח אלא אם כן הכלי עצמו משתנה ומשתלשל ליצור חדש,(כמו שניתן לחדש את הסופטווירר רק עד גבול מסוים, לפני שנאלצים לקנות מכונה חדשה).
ואולי כך קרה לדינוזארים, בימיהם הבריאה המפותחת ביותר, רפטיל ענק ומרשים מעל ומעבר לכל יונק. אבל הדינוזארים הגיעו לשלב מסוימת של התפתחות, ותו לא. כבוא עליהם מהפכות אקלים של אז, נשמדו ונהיו לאפס, ונוצר מקום לתכנית חדשה- היונק במרכז ההתפתחות, משם צמחנו אנחנו, כיום המובילים בעולם מבלי דמיון. ומי יודע כיום, מה יהא עתידו של הזן שלנו? ומה יצא ממנו?
וסביר מאד שהתהליך האבולויציוני הממשמש ובא (ואולי כבר התחיל) לא יתרחש ללא סבל, וקשה עוד לדעת אם יהיו השורדים מעט או הרבה במספר, כי אין שינוי ללא צער, אין צמיחה ללא סבל, אין אבולוציה ללא סכנה. כל כל אלה הם המניעים לאבולוציה ובלעדם אין כלום.
מהו סבל, צער וכדומה? כולם משמשים כסימנים לסכנה, להתקרבות המוות, שמעורר את דחף השרידות לקום ואיכשהו להגיב. המוות- החזרה להיות דומם- לזה שקיים ללא רוח ונשמה- הוא שמזרז ומדליק אותנו להמשיך, לזוז ןלהתפתח. "וירא אלהים את כל אשר עשה והנה טוב" וכתבו רבנן טוב מאד- זה המוות". שלולא היעד הזה, בית מועד לכל חי, לא יתאפשרו "חיים" שפירושו המדעני: יצור שגדל, שזז, שצומח
dnaאני מאמינה שרצון המקור קיים בכל חוט

כאשר הוא מכפל את עצמו- רצון לשנות, לחדש, ליצור מוטטציה למרות הסיכויים החלשים להצלחה, שללא יצירתן, ישאר אך דומם. סוד החיים הנו במוטטציה.

and despite all sometimes i can't help but feel a stirring of love for the terror and the beauty of it all

PLEASE EXCUSE MY SCIENTIFIC UNSOPHISTICATION

The Bite of Love

2009-11-14T15:49:00.000-08:00

The bible says that when Esau met Jacob,
instead of killing him as planned,
he hugged and kissed him

But there are little dots above the word,
which the rabbis say are really toothmarks

Perhaps somehow,
it suddenly dawned on Esau,
somewhere in between all the flocks of sheep and goats

that even if he got rid of Jacob
take his wives
his children
his cattle
never ever could he get back
the blessing of his father

My brother, I have much.

Yes, much. But I remain, deep inside,
cold
empty
hungry but not for bread,
thirsty but not for wine

Thirsty for the blessing.
Hungry for for the one who has it.

Hungry for you, you, you
give me, hold me, let me feel you, let me kiss you

let me kiss you with my teeth

Yes, my brother,
my lover,
my twin
(for are we not otherwise so alike?)

all i can do to you
is kiss you
put my mouth on your neck
hug you
hold you close to me
and squeeze you tight.
ever trying to reach, grasp and imbibe
squeeze,
suck out,
what it is you have
that I don't

best parrot gets a prize!

2009-11-14T14:49:00.000-08:00

How many silver coins did avram pay efron? 400.
That's one of the questions on my nephew's parsha sheets. He's around five or so. apparently if he gets all the answers right he gets a prize or something.

Does a five year old have any clue what that means? Does he understand? Does he care?

My other nephew who's a bit bigger tells me, "I have a VERY FUNNY dvar tora this week. But you aren't allowed to hear it." Why not? I'm a tad insulted. But then I remember- Last time, I asked him if he could explain his dvar torah instead of reading it off a paper. He's seven. Was I asking too much? But why should't a child be able to explain what he learns in school? If he can't, perhaps its not my question, but the teacher's lesson that's too above him?

Too above? Correct that- too below. Because in learning to recite and to spit back adult level material, they may be exercising their memories but their critical faculties, their judgement, their comprehension are not being engaged, their being allowed to remain in their infancy- A level that's safe and non threatening.

(Those non-threatening plans sometimes backfire, however, because as a teen it perplexed me to no end how god's revelation could consist of such simplistic unsophisticated kindergarten stories).

When I was a kindergartner, my parents took me to bubbe and zeide for pesach, to show off and shep nachas in front of all the aunts and uncles... "Ki, why do we make a seder?" they prompted. "What happened on Pesach?"

The best parrot wins a prize, you know. I blushed and gave them what they were looking for, or so I thought: "The juice came out of mitzrayim."

(It was a bad omen from the start- to this day, I have never won the best parrot prize.)

Tales from Sem

2009-10-24T17:19:00.000-07:00

"I'm having so much fun here....
"We've been trying to get up on top of the roof, and the entrance is locked! Finally one of the girls figured out how to open it with a pliers...
"We sneaked into the kitchen one night... all we found was some old stale bread... but it was so much fun..."

I'm a bit envious. In my day the girls were so docile. I don't remember taking part in any pranks. Or maybe that's just because I wasn't socially highly integrated like she is. I'm glad my little sis is having such a great time. and I hope she's not faking it, like I was. (... just like camp, I was convinced sem was great, and I was just miserable because something was wrong with ME).

But speaking of camp, I am a bit concerned about these "campy" antics. I wonder whether these girls independence spirit are being channeled away from where they are really needed, such as the intellectual realm, or in a way that preserves for them some actual autonomy. (I'm afraid even to ask if they're still locked in like Saudi Arabia, like they did in my day).

Hopefully, one type of independence will reinforce the other. But I suspect not. I suspect using the pliers to get up on the roof is a stand in for being able to walk out the front door.

I suspect that their independent spirits are being co-opted and relegated to a realm that doesn't threaten the powers that be, and only serves to reinforces their role as mischievious children instead of blooming adults and people to be reckoned with.

African Judaism in context

2009-09-14T02:52:00.000-07:00

American Jewish multicultural initiatives have embraced these as their own.
The conservative movement has been especially involved in outreach to the Abayudaya, arranging for halachic conversions and ordaining one of its members as a Rabbi. Beyond sending teachers, Kulanu has also engaged in financial sponsorship, such as an income generation project in Sefwi (involving factory produced challa covers), funding Schools for the Abayudaya (and children from the outside) and chanelling famine relief for the surrounding communities through them.

Jewish visitors to some of these communities wax eloquent on how devout and heartfelt, these communities Jewish practice is, how they are moved by the devotion, sincerity and sense of authenticity. They point excitedly to remnants of supposed "Hebrew" practices, no matter how farfetched, eg circumcision which is ubiqitious throughout Africa, or a history of animal sacrifices in pre-colonial times, and enthusiastically proclaim to have found their long lost brothers and point to a rosy future for an intercultural multiracial, new face of Judaism.

Yet for all these detailed reports about sabbath dinners and wedding ceremonies, the background context of these developments is sorely missing which is, of course, African Christianity. Christianity is barely mentioned except as a historical bynote, not as an influential force and encompassing context for these developments, though it is clear that the very introduction of Judaism at all, arrived in these parts of Africa through Christian missionaries, and the influence of the role that Christianity continues to play in African communities.

full article

Gender and Cross Cultural Epistemology

2009-09-10T21:26:00.001-07:00

Over the past few years I have been studying systems of thought.
"Indigenous" "Native" "Traditional" thought.

And, of course, "Western thought," as the contrast point for the others.

Much of it his hard to grasp, but על רגל אחת, it seems that these other systems differ from western thought in that western thought, based on the greeks is linear, while the other systems are cyclical/ webbed/ connective. I don't have the exact word for it. It's hard to undestand without actually experiencing it. Anyway, According to one article I read this is because the greeks developed the earliest widely literate society and literacy changes everything- literacy is the basis for comparison between past and present, which in turn enables a progressive, goal oriented mindset, a standard of objective verifiability, hence knowledge of history, emphasis on scientific accuracy etc, individualism as the individual becomes less dependent on the collective for knowledge, perspective, and awareness.

I read one great book on Asian thought as compared to "Western" thought, forgot the title unforutnately. Quite well researched with numerous psychological studies. Some but not all was similar- for example the collective sense, the relational mindset as opposed to the singular, linear- eg chinese kids speak an equal number of verbs (words that show the relationship, the context) as nouns (singular disattached items) while american the same age know predominantly nouns. Just one example.

The book also had some comparison studies. In one it compared Men to Women and Asian to Western. What was more predictive, gender or culture? It turned out that culture was much more predictive. Men and women from the same culture had much more in common with eachother, than with members of the same gender from another culture.
But still, a slight gender difference was noted, with women having a greater tendency towards the non-western forms of thought.

Some of these were: -Value placed on emotion, intuition as opposed to the greek emphasis on linear rational progression.

-Process orientation (focusing on the flow)vs. goal orientation (focus on a final, disembodies result).

-Myth, symbolism and meaningfulness over factual accuracy.

-Value placed on relationships instead of tasks.

-Subjective relationship with time- therefore lateness.

Things like that- most of which in our culture have been categorized (and often castigated) as feminine.

On the flip side, in my studies of cultural thought systems, I often found essentialist-feminist literature romanticizing over those good ole non western ways of thought which they characterized as "feminine." But what is striking is that when describing other cultures, none of these are depicted as essentialist to women. Not all of those societies are especially women friendly either.

(For an excellent, gender-irrelevant analysis of this mindset, as experienced by Ethiopian olim in their clash with modern society, see Miri Levin Rosales, Social Representations as Emerging from Social Structure: The Case of the Ethiopian Immigrants to Israel (click on volume 9)

So, what makes them feminine? Perhaps the femininity inherent in the traditional primitive mindset is simply woman's marginality to the cultural institutions that dominate our intellectional landscape, and lesser exposure to the Greek Western mind.

How to be a better Lover (a guide for for young frum men)

2009-09-09T19:12:00.000-07:00

Why a guide for frum men? Not because you aren't as good a man as any one else out there- quite the opposite. But because you are likely to be married to someone who hasn't had a chance to discover her sexuality yet.

So now you're finding that reality with this chick isn't anything like you imagined it would be and your feeling totally at a loss, searching desperately for the right trick.

Some of you guys think it's about technique, and you just have to learn the magic tough, or find the magic button. Well, you've got it all wrong. Sure, it's always nice to have a neat little trick up your sleeve, but face it, those neat little tricks are usually more what you want from us than what we want from you.

Being a good lover isn't about technique. It's not about what you do and how, it's about when. To be a good lover you don't need to know what to do as much as you need to know what NOT. and when not.

I bet sometimes you think that if you just push and poke just a little more in the right spots, you'll somehow jiggle her into the mood. NOT! If it was going to work, it would have worked right away. (Lucky you.) If it didn't it won't. It might get her to give in in the short run, just to get you off her ass already, but then she'll avoid you for the next two weeks, plus keep getting all pissed off for something trivial (bad sex can really breed resentment!) so is it really worth it??? Lay off. Less is more.

Remember that simple equation. More bad sex = less good sex. It's really quite simple.

Remember the importance of non-sexual physical affection (this goes for ALL women). Sometimes you just gotta hug or cuddle without expecting for anything more. If you don't do that even your simple hugs will become toxic. And if SHE seems to want more, play it cautiously. Don't kill it! Respond, but go slow. Stay one step behind her. Wait til she screams for it. Because eventually she will. Your good girl will turn into a bad girl soon enough. But only if you play your cards right.

השבעתי אתכם םא תעירו אם תעוררו את האהבה עד שתחפץ.

This dude I know got divorced because by the time his wife got interested, he had given up already and was looking in greener pastures. He wouldn't respond to her because he didn't know how to do that without drowning hers out, and things would go back to the old pattern. So at that point just when the tide was about to turn, he just ignored her. He quit.

Don't let that be you!!!

Homecoming

2009-08-15T07:47:00.001-07:00

once upon a time there were two brothers.

they lived in a house which though small and simple,
was surrounded by fields, and sunshine,
rivers and lakes, and mountains, and orchards full of olives, pomegranites and citrus fruit.

both boys thought that it was the most wonderful place in the world.

But one day,

soldiers came.

Run! yelled the first brother to the other. Follow me!

But smoke was filling the house and the sounds of explosions were filling the air and the second brother couldn't see or hear.

So he ran and hid in the basement.

The first brother ran and ran. He had no idea where he was but he kept running. He ran until he could run no more and collapsed.

When he awoke, he looked around and found himself alone on a dusty road. He looked around, seeing nothing familiar. "Where am I?" He panicked in alarm. "And where is my brother?" His brother must have been hit in the gunfire! Now he was truly alone.

And he had nothing. Not even a sip of water.

A man was walking down the road.

"Excuse me," said the first brother. "Might you have some water or food to share with me?"

"What can you pay me?" said the man?

"I have no money, but I'll come work for you," said the first brother.

"very well," said the man. "Come with me to my home and family.

Thus began a new era is the first brother's life. He worked very hard, hoping he had finally found a place to call his own. But when he was done there, he was sent to another family. And then another, and another. He was often mistreated and often went hungry. Lonely and tired, in the dark of night he would think about his old life, though he could barely remember it.

"One day I'll go back home," he thought. "One day I'll return to my little house."

He began to stay up late and study. He learned new languages. He bought new clothes, and earned some money. It wasn't easy but he was determined. "I must make money," he thought. "I must get home."

Finally one day, he went. He journeyed long and far. And suddenly, he saw it! There in the distance, old and run down, was a little house! He ran, opened the door, and threw himself inside, and began kissing the old worn out floor. "Home!" he cried, tears forming in his eyes. "Home! I'm finally home!"

Suddenly he heard a noise behind him. A man stood there. "Who are you?" said the man.

"I'm the boy who lived in this house! I've come home! I've suffered and traveled and been thrown about. I lost everything I had, I lost my own brother, but I'm finally back! I'm going to take this little house and build it into a palace!"

The man stood silent for a moment. He looked over the traveler's jacket and boots, and his language with a new accent he didn't recognized. "You're not my brother." He declared. "My brother was killed in the gunfire. I don't know who you are. And this is my house, the house I was born and raised. Kindly leave now."

"No!" said first brother. "I was the one who was born here. and MY brother was killed in the gunfire. I don't recognize you. Your clothes are tattered and you speak like a hick. YOU get out."

The man raised a fist.

"Oh no you don't!" said first brother. He stuck out his boot and gave a kick. The man tripped and fell and than ran for cover in the basement. "Good!" yelled first brother. "That's where you'll stay!"

"No I won't!" said the man. "I'll get rid of you one day!" But he eventually settled down in the basement, while his brother settled into the top floor which he refurbished with rugs, furniture and artwork, truly a place fit for a king.

But in the back of his mind he knows that his brother still fumes and plots from his place in the basement. and in the deep nights in his silken beddings, he still lies awake frozen with fear, much like he used to on the hard ground, in his days as a wandering youth.

And they lived happily ever after.

why i am observant

2009-07-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

"The Outside, Non-Indian world is tribeless, full of wandering singular soulds, seeking connection through societies, clubs, and other groups. White people know what it is to be a family, but to be a tribe is something of an altogether different sort. It provides a feeling of inclusion in something larger, of having a set place in the universe where one always belongs. It provides connectedness and a blueprint for how to live."

"Most Americans have lost their tribal identities although at one time, most likely, everyone belonged to a tribe."

-Lori Arviso Arvold, The Scalpel and the Silver Bear

Truth as an expanding cycle

2009-07-18T08:13:00.000-07:00

"Every issue has its own levels of truth. Levels of truth move in a progression. As one grows and increases in awareness, her or his levels of truth move from the superficial to the more profound....

"As people move along the various levels of truth, they are less likely to attack those who are still at the levels through which they have already passed. When this does happen... it is usually related to the fact that one must fully affirm one's own level before moving on to the next....

"If one tries to move too quickly through the levels, she or he gets stuck. And if one refuses to move on to a new level when it is time, she or he stagnates....

"...As one move along the levels of truth, each new level is almost always the opposite of the previous one. Although this gives the appearance of inconsistency, it actually represents a growth in awareness. When one looks only at two adjacent levels of truth, they may give the appearance of a dualism or dialectic, but this is not the case. Nevertheless they look that way when one views them statically and not as part of a process. Although several levels of truth may look behaviorally similar, they are attitudinally very different...."

"The approach to wisdom is a ripening and ongoing process. Wisdom in itself is a process, not a product."

-Anne Wilson Shaef, 1981

_____________

Examples by Kisarita:
-Clothes. (See CLOTHES post from sidebar).
Stage one- Keeping the rules. Morphs into
Stage two into Dressing well to rebel. Which morphs into
Stage III, dressing poorly, also to rebel in another way, to beat them in their own game. This morphs into
Stage IV: "clothes and externalities are unimportant" and concomitant dressing to fit in and accomodate.
Now this may be morphing into anothe stage: Clothes as an important part of self expression.
This may looks alot like stage 2, dressing well to rebel, but is entirely different.
In the same way, dressing as a conscious choice to accomodate looks alot like stage one of keeping the rules.
But it feels entirely different. Both represent moves towards greater connection and authenticity, while the earlier stages show the birth only of a dim awareness.

-Sexuality. This is an experience common to many frum women, and possibly many non frum women as well. When we are still children, we are taught to guard ourselves, not to tempt men to be "nichshal." As we grow we absorb messages not to be cheap, not to become polluted and dirty by sexual activity, to keep ourselves pure. Well at a certain point, say as we hit our late 20s or so and still unmarried, we stop feeling so pure and start feeling like fryeriyot. We see movies like the 40 year old virgin and begin to view our previous purity as a stigma. Some of us engage in promiscuous behavior in a desperate attempt to make up for what we've been missing. But as time passes, most of us slow down, and looking around and listening for our inner cues, realize we don't really want to be doing this. We revert to conservative behavior again (less conservative than our childhoods, but still conservative...) , but there's a world of difference between the conservative behavior now, and the conservative behavior of our youth. One is out of self respect, the other out of self denigration.
(But you never know, one of these days i may just end up as a dirty old lady...)

-Gender. Much like the rest of society, I started out angry and angsty, and dealt with it by transgendering myself- by becoming as masculine as possible. Later on, still angry I adopted a certain female supremacy, the type espoused by Schaef herself. But as I became comfortable with femininity, the anger dissipated, and I also became comfortable with the idea of masculinity in a positive sense- an admiration and an attraction toward a certain energy and drive that I see as masculine. But greater comfort with gender differences doesnt mean It's the same as the rigid essentialism I was indoctrinated with in my youth.

-Religious observance.
When people leave religion they are often in love and in hate- in love with everything secular, and in hate with everything before. But as time goes by they start re-practicing some of their old observances, and reclaiming some of their old opinions, but with an entirely new meaning.

-Religious observance on a generational level: Both my parents chose ultra orthodoxy and rejected the borderline-orthodox communities they were raised in- 1950's style materialism and superficiality. Both of them were seeking something larger, something truer, something more authentic, more transcendant. They thought they had found it, and perhaps for a while they did.
I continued on the path that they left off; The world that they brought me into was stunted, stagnant and superficial to me. I too sought out something truer and better than what they had left me. At this point in time my observance is much like the communities they rejected. But in terms of thought, depth, and meaning, it's a world apart.

And the next generation remains to be seen.

I wrote this post (most of it) on Shabbos. I did it because I was bored and restless, had a sudden inspiration, and despite my whole past eco-theology, couldn't see any meaning in refraining from doing so.

Where does that place me on the levels of truth? Does it mean the Sabbath itself is losing meaning or me? Or that I will be finding a new way of celebrating it? Does it mean that I am stagnating? Or moving to a new level?

Christian theological paradigm applied by feminist psychology

2009-07-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

"....As I worked with these women and watched them work with one another, I suddenly became aware that I was witnessing attempts to cope with the Original Sin of Being Born Female. To be born female in this culture means that you are "tainted," that there is something intrinsically wrong with you that you can never change, that your birthright is one of innate inferiority....

"According to the theological concept of Original Sin, there is no real justification by works. Women can never absolve themselves of their Original Sin of Being Born Female....

"Some women use goodness as a strategy for absolution. We become very good. We overwhelm ourselves and those around us with our unquestionable goodness... Somehow, we believe that if we are just good enough, we will be absolved of our Original Sin of Being Born Female. It never works...."

"Remember that in the Original Sin concept, we can only be Saved with the help and intervention of an outside intermediary. We are taught that we will be all right if we can only attach ourselves to an innnately superior being, a man, who will then intercede for us. We will feel good again. We will be absolved."

-Ann Wilson Schaef (1981)

clothes and gender theology

2009-07-18T07:41:00.000-07:00

In the masculine system "living in tune with God means getting in tune with something outside the self.... one is expected to reshape oneself according to these external criteria of goddness..... In the female system, living in tune with god means being in tune with what one already is....

"Idolatry is the abortion of the process of being, and sin is alienation from that process. Women are often accused of being selfish when we cease to focus solely on others and begin to respect and follow our own process. I have observed that whenever a woman, or a man, for that matter, is in tune with her own process, she never harms herself or others. She may do things that others do not like or appreciate, but she does not harm them. When we are out of tune with our internal process, though, we distort ourselves and are often destructive to others. This is the true meaning of sin."

-Anne Wilson Schaef, Women's Reality. 1981.

__________

I have thought about this a lot, in relation to my accomodationist behavior out of respect to my family.

One of the primary ways this played out was in the area of dress.(See related post, Clothes)

I considered it a mark of maturity, not to be as petty and superficial and hung up on externalities as they were. Yet, was it maturity or cowardice? Wasn't adopting a dress style just the tip of the iceberg of a demand that I create an entire false, externally dictated persona as well? Did I not pay the price of falseness? And did I not pay the price, by leading myself to declare that clothes and appearance were unimportant, don't I now look now not nearly as good as I could?

I want to stop accomodating. I want to wear whatever I want and go visit whomever I want, looking however I want, myself, not in a disguise. No I won't harm them. I'll just displease them.

Perhaps this is not an issue of maturity or cowardice but different levels of awareness.... see upcoming post.

Nothing to fear but fear itself

2009-06-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

Fear plagues my life.

There are so many things that I haven't done for fear of taking the plunge. So many false starts, shoulds, coulds, and what ifs. So many times I've remained glued to the railing, afraid to go beyond the fence.

I've been told that I was a really timid and shy kid. Some personality traits are in born; I rememember my little sis at age 1, who is like me in may ways, hiding under the table the sound of any mechanical noise. But as I've previously stated (see my post Learned Helplessness), the infuence of conditioning can't be underestimated either. I don't recall anything from those years so I couldn't say for sure, but I do know that at age 12 I was punished by being grounded for a week, just for walking at night with some friends, the length of one block, in a commercial area.

The other day I was in the park with my nephew Shmully. He stood on the outside of the gate to the enclosed swings area as I stood on the inside, pushing his toddler sister.

"Ki!" he called. "Come pick me up and take me over!"

"You gotta climb," I told him, "but I'll help you." So I held his arms, and he climbed and climbed. He climbed until he was at the top of the gate. "Do you want to walk along the top of the gate?" I asked him. "I'll hold you." "No," he said. "It's scary up here."

A few minutes later he was back on the other side! (Kids do that, they like these annoying repetitive "games"). "Ki!" he called. "Help me climb over!" So I did. But A few minutes later, there he was again! But this time, he was at the top. He had climbed up all by himself! But not only that, He was crawling along at the scary top of the fence, crawling on his hands and knees. I had an urge to run and catch him. Or at least stand right next to him, holding my arms out. "Ki!" he called. "Look at me!" I held my breath, and held the urge in. "I can go all the way to the end of the gate!" he crowed.

The lady next to me gave me a disapproving look. "There's no padding on the floor over there," she told me. But I stood rooted to the spot. Finally Shmully made it to the end of the gate, hoisted himself over and hung until he could reach the ground. Finally I let go and exploded on him with a shower of hugs and kisses.

"I'm gonna do it again now," he said nonchalantly.

I will remember this incident for a long time, he will likely forget it tomorrow. Yet while it will have relatively little impact on my life, I hope it will have an impact on his.

on the death of michael jackson

2009-06-26T16:59:00.000-07:00

The Death of Peter Pan

A Must Read.

Learned Helplessness

2009-06-14T22:27:00.001-07:00

Recently I was reading that mastery over our physical environment in childhood translates into enhanced sense of agency, drive, independence and basically, success as an adult.

My brother Top Gun was always so handy; he knew how everything worked, could fix anything, or build it from scratch, while to this day I can barely change a lightbulb myself. He was good at gemara too, and sports, and everything else. And so charming he could get away with anything, unlike me who was always getting sent home from school. I wrote his essays for him at school, and though I got him A's, it wasn't enough for me to get past the inferiority complex. I wrote him a masterpiece of an essay (truly a waste of effort for a black hat yeshiva) about a separate piece, about Gene and Phinny and love-hate-jealousy.

One day I bought a bike. It came unassembled. I looked at all the parts and got excited: Could I learn to assemble it myself? In the beginning, I looked at the assembly book, I looked at the pieces, it all seemed a jumble, like I could see no connection between the two.

"Ask Top Gun," said my father. No doubt a reasonable suggestion.
"But I want to do it myself." I responded.
"There's no shame in asking for help," he said, also true.

Help was one thing. But could I get it? דהיינו could I get help, without someone taking the whole project out of my hands? Probably no more than I could help someone write a paper, instead of getting an A for them.

So back I went to the shed. I looked at the book. I looked at the pieces. I couldn't make heads or tails. "Why does she want to do it herself?" I heard one of my little siblings say in the background. I burst into tears. Finally I asked Top Gun who took care of it rather easily.

I might have forgotten all about this story (since I eventually figured out how to take care of it myself and fix it when it broke and all that) except for one thing my father said, which sent me back to the shed sobbing. He said, "I'm proud of you for doing the mature thing."

Yeah, I'm sure there is a genetic basis to my lack of technological aptitude, but the role of conditioning can't be underestimated. Ultimately I was on the wrong turf. I simply wasn't supposed to be handy, and self sufficient. Any more than my brother was supposed to be able to write a complete English sentence.

West Africans in Church

2009-06-14T19:46:00.001-07:00

Today I was passing by a church, and i saw a bunch of west african looking people. The women were in there african dresses and headscarfs. some of the men were in suits, but some were wearing their colorful african tunics, along with their dress shoes. They don't dress like this every day, most of them. They wear their native dress special for church.

Why is religion for them associated with their ethnic identity?

לאות על ידך

2009-06-14T05:28:00.001-07:00

in defense of emotions

2009-06-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

Recently I have noticed that a lot of ex-frums (i think specifically ex chussids but not sure) like to brag about how rational they are now, how they craft all their beliefs strictly based on rationality, and how irrational frumkeit is.

It's funny because my experience is just the opposite.
My criticism of the frum community is not that it is irrational, but rather hyperrational.I felt that being frum stifled my emotions, my intuition, and my natural instincts. I never got a chance to feel what I feel, to like what I like, (and the flip side, to dislike), to want what I want. I only felt what I was SUPPOSED to feel, like and want. I never really got a chance to see what I see, to hear what I hear, without the interpreted being mediated by a cognitive explanatory process.

So it makes me sad to see some of these people falling into the same trap that I think they should be coming out of.... and it has also been destructive to me when I have become involved intimate relationships with superrationalists, causing me to backslide in my search for my own inner voice. I wonder what this idealization of rationality is about.

Perhaps it is because we feel the need to adopt THEIR yardstick, in order to prove our rightness? Is the need to be rational similar to how I feel the need to get married, by hook or by crook, to prove to THEM I'm something? (and myself?) Is it because, though you can take the boy out of the country, you can't take the country out of the boy? Or is it a particular pain that we are hiding, that these subjects evoke? Why are we loathe to confront that pain? Can we possibly believe that some kind of theoretical rational analysis is more noble than stopping the pain?

But ultimately I don't believe it's true. I don't believe in all those rational protestations. I don't believe they don't have a core emotion underlying them, a core subjective attitude. When a human being professes to be a robot, you can bet there's a pretty damn good reason why, that can not be summarized in a logical mathematical equation.

If not, then this anti religion thing should be even more prevalent among liberal jews who were exposed to science, people of other religions, and all that from kindergarten... but it isn't.

When my former lover responds coolly and rationally saying "God doesn't owe you anything" he's not giving a philosophical treatise. He's saying "I don't owe you anything. I don't want to be with you. I can't live up to your expectations." B'kitzur he's as angry as I am (as he had a right to be.. but thats a gantze maaseh). And when he said "it didn't mean anything," it's not because he couldn't care less, but because all protestations to the contrary, he cared too much.

When Jacob Stein, a man without a true name or identity, who was abandoned at birth, tries to carve a space for himself in Judaims by insulting, disowning, and disbarring other Jews, or when he chucks his infertile wife of 10 years, or cuts himself off from his Christian adoptive family, he's not making a philosophical, objective, impartial judgement, no matter how calm and collected he thinks he is. He's acting out a stunted emotion.

In the same way, when someone runs out of the room during a video of chasidim praying, that's not a cold cool and rational voice speaking. When someone states "religion means nothing to me," you can bet that it means way too much. On the flip side, when someone attacks religion (or almost anything for that matter) as nonsensical, valueless, primitive, they may be wrong or they may be right, but that's not the voice of reason talking. When someone devotes so much mental energy, time, and blogpages- the part of them that cares enough to do so is their gut. When someone points out proof after proof and refutation after refutation, they may or may not be valid, but the inner process that chooses what logic to examine, and what to ignore, what point resonate and what doesn't, is an aesthetic one.

I don't believe we are capable of being strictly rational beings, nor should we be. The function of our rational capacities is to provide the information, but ultimately I believe it is our gut that mediates it. That UNDERSTANDS.

You can make a talmudic pilpul about anything, but it's your subjective, intuitive judgement that goes, "Oh gimme a break."

You can find a rational defense for nearly anything.
But your gut doesn't lie.

If we have not disabled it first.

the abortion vs. adoption debate

2009-06-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

The pro-lifers talk about adoption as the panacea, the great and lofty alternative to abortion. They even shlepped Barack Obama into it, as Obama and Mccain both agreed, during the presidential debate, to "promote and expand opportunities to adopt..." Even now, in every abortion debate, someone brings it up.

Adoption is not an alternative to abortion.

The pro-life lobby warn us about PAS- Post Abortion Syndrome (Depression, Grief, Guilt, etc). If the loss of an as-of-yet unthinking, unfeeling, human embryo is a calamity, then what words would there be to describe the loss of a living, breathing, kicking child, that you have felt in your body for months???? If the removal of that embryo is supposed to leave you with lifelong guilt (in part induced by the self same moralizers crying murder), than could there be greater guilt than consigning that living, aware child, to an unknown fate? If the abortive mom is supposed to spend the rest of her life, wondering what could have been, how can the to-adoption mom not spend the rest of her life worrying about what is, and she has no way of knowing?

judaism and periods

2009-05-02T05:31:00.000-07:00

Judaism, (not any particular dogma, but history, heritage, people, cultures) is really the all encompassing metaphoric system for me, the theme that strings all other thoughts together, the structure that makes my life coherent, the web that bonds me to those who share it, in varying extents and manners, in this generation as well as to the past, and future.

It's hard to explain but its the prism through which I filter my worldview. Not believing in a divine torah doesn't change any of that.

And god is the method and mechanism by which I focus, and share, my devotion, passion, and motivation. Could I wake up greatful to be alive without anyone to say modah ani to? Could I organize my seasons without yom tov or my weeks without shabos? Or would that be like conceptualizing the passing of time without my period? (though i used to do it when I was a kid and if i hope to live another decade I'll be doin it again...)

Sort of like a mantra that doesn't mean anything in itself, God is a concept that doesn't mean anything by itself, except by its relationship with those in contact with it.

I think ultimately nothing exists alone- the meaning of ANYTHING is derived from its relationships. ANYTHING including me...

So maybe if I was in love I wouldn't need it? but when I was in love, I loved it even more.

The life inside me

2009-04-26T05:59:00.000-07:00

(Excerpt from a past article, kept private)

I call the lab. Congratulations- the results are positive.
I call clinic after clinic, but no one will give me the abortion pill yet. Not until there is something visible on the sono screen. What don’t they understand? I don’t want them to see something on the sono screen. If it was never there, I can’t destroy it. If I never had it, I can’t lose it.
Why do I work in a prenatal clinic of all places? Why don’t I work in Planned Parenthood, where I could steal the damn thing?
I wish I could talk to someone. I feel like a little kid again. I want my Mommy. But my parents won’t understand.
What would upset them more, if I’m pregnant or if I have an abortion?
I can picture my mother screaming either way. Slut. Murderer. Maybe both.
An image comes into my head, an image of my Mom, a few years ago when we discussed the idea of single parenthood. “If you dare do such a thing,” I remember her saying, “your father and I will have nothing to do with you or your child. You'll be alone. Totally alone."
I dial my folk’s phone number anyway, and then hang up.
Five minutes later my dad calls back. “Ki Sarita!” he sounds all excited. “The baby’s name is….”
Baby? A name already? How does he know? What is he talking about? “My baby doesn’t have a name yet,” I almost blurt out.
“Yes, Chaya’s baby girl, what a cutie…”
I almost fall out of my chair, though I shouldn’t be so surprised. I’ve known as long as anyone else that my little sister Chaya was pregnant, but apparently I’ve been hiding it from myself.
Baby. Girl. Name. I’ve hung up the phone but the words are still swirling around my head, taking on a life of their own. In a daze, I force myself to pick up the phone again. With a smile pasted onto my voice, I congratulate my sis, my brother in law, and my mom who flew out there to help out. I don't tell them about the life inside me.

How do I relate to my OTD sister?

2009-04-20T16:36:00.000-07:00

Question posted with permission of the writer

I am committed and observant but I find your story helpful in my own understanding of my family. My sister, who I was very close with since we were little girls, began rebeling in her teens and today lives a completely secular life...
I had found it very difficult for me to talk about it with her
during those years, and while we remained civil, social, and close, there is
still something in between us till today. I would very much like to patch it
up, and have her close, even if she stays irreligious, but seemingly like your
brother I fear a direct influence. My question to you is how can I maintain a
close loving relationship, being accepting of her, while still educating my
kids the way I want them to be?

Thank you,
Shoshie K.

[see related post OutSiders]

orgasmic pesach cleaning

2009-04-12T07:39:00.001-07:00

Call me crazy if you must, perverted or masochistic, but I actually love it.
I love the scrubbing and the sore hands and the physical exhaustion that feels almost athletic.
And when i look at my spotless house and finally pour the boiling water over my surfaces it feels almost ecstatic, a deep sense of feminine fulfillment.
And I probably won't even be eating in my house!!!

(to all who were expecting some kinky kitchen action in this post, I apologize, better luck next time.)

כחלום אעוף

2009-04-06T18:53:00.000-07:00

I used to have these recurring dreams, would love to hear if other people have had similar dreams too...

1. I'm driving a car totally out of control, it flies off bridges, into oceans, colliding here and overturning there, somehow I get out of it each time and keep on trying, trying to get control.... THE CAR IS MY LIFE.

2. It's Pesach and I'm sitting surrounded by piles of bread. I'm gobbling up the bread, trying to stop myself but I can't. This dream recurred in different forms, involving other religious violations that I don't remember anymore. HELP, I'M GOING OFF THE DERECH.
(When I was a teen and weight obsessed I had similar dreams about mounds of chocolate and would wake up nauseous)

3. I'm in a place like school or some such (public but where everyone knows me)and I realize I'm naked or near naked, trying in vain to cover up, or hide somewhere, or make a mad dash hoping they don't notice.... HELP, THEY CAN ALL SEE THROUGH ME, I'M A BUSHA IN FRONT OF FAM AND COMM (This one I KNOW some of you have had, as I've heard other people mention it)

All three of these dreams kind of have a similar theme, of trying to control an uncontrollable something. Thank god, I don't get them anymore. I hope that says something about my life.

And apropos of my title, I have to mention the flying dream, where I flap my arms in a swimming motion and FLY.... but that's a good dream, because I can steer, although I sometimes have some tough winds and other unseen forces that challenge me and sometimes overcome...

A Nice Lady Who Didn't Have a Husband

2009-04-05T13:56:00.000-07:00

So, avromi decided to tell me a "family story" in exchange. (see)

"Once there was a nice lady who didn't have a husband," he began. "One day she went to visit her brother..."

It seems that is the most salient aspect of my identity in the frum world (although I don't consider myself "nice")- I don't have a husband.

Perhaps this is why everyone has been so friendly to me lately.

My clothes, my choice of friends, my religious activities... each alone would have been enough to brand me as a rebel at one point. A rebel- A dangerous influence, to be feared and kept at a respectful distance.

But as I've gotten older, it seems that all those things, instead of marking me as a dangerous rebel, simply marked me as a desperate, pathetic single. A person to be pitied and befriended(as well as incessantly nudged to go out with the nearest available loser).

After all, no one is afraid of a Nice Lady Without A Husband. How could such a pathetic person be a dangerous influence? Who would want to emulate her and risk winding up in the same boat? Not even my little sister, who is such a rebel herself, always asking audacious questions and getting into trouble, is interested in my life's wisdom, in my critique of her society, in my value judgements. After all, look where it all got me. And short of becoming filthy rich, or doing something totally outrageous just for the hell of that I don't really want to, it seems there's not much I can do to dispel the perception that me and my life are worthless.

UGH! and I'm going to be there for three days. Where is the j- escorts service when you need them?
*******

PS
So over yom tov, apparently as a person of stature after all, i was drawn into mediating between my friend and her teenage daughter. The daughter isn't at all OTD, just regular teenage orneriness. But her mother poured out her heart to me, "I'm so worried about her future.... Please forgive me... but I just don't want her to wind up like you... what do you have in life? Nothing."

and then again, there are people who have opposite experiences. I met a single frum woman whose satmar relatives totally shun her, refuse to let her have anything to do with there kids. Just because she's single. a Desperate Single but single just the same. and god forbid our kids might ever consider that an option.

groupthink

2009-04-05T06:43:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm in college, it sometimes feels eerily similar to being around frum people, only the opposite.

Students and professors alike engage in bush bashing and obama idolizing, attack structural racism and sexism etc, all in a very pareve fashion, nothing like the rip roaring arguments we jews sometimes get into. What I don't like about it, is the simple assumption that their saying something self evident, that of course every one in the room unanimously agrees with.

And when I do disagree, I sit there silently in my seat as I used to among frum people, willing myself to exercise my freedom of speech but afraid to distinguish myself as Other.

I myself didn't vote for Mccain. (I didn't vote for obama either but i did have a heated debate with a chabad guy on whether the rebbe or obama was the moshiach), but the day of the election I paraded around Union Square with a John Mccain button, because I couldn't take the group think.

But as I approached the school, I took it off.

Moment of Truth

2009-04-05T05:25:00.000-07:00

Previously posted as a comment on Daas Hedyot's "Better know a Kofer" Series

I am not an atheist but I don't believe in a divine Torah.

I first came to that conclusion, not upon reading any science anything, but upon reading a book by a psychologist.

He wrote about a patient of his, who lived a neurotic life and fear of sinning, inculcated into her by her mother who was some kind of christian denomination, i think catholic. He himself is a religious man, but he wrote about how he helped free her from religion.

I had read the same book a few years earlier and it had no effect on me. I guess it was just not a safe a time in my life.

But all of a sudden, just like that, I saw the parallel btw that an my own life. And all of a sudden I realized I hadn't believed all along deep down but was just afraid to come out with it. All of a sudden all the questions and struggles that I had with the whole thing were answered. It was like 3 am and I started crying and crying, part in grief and part in joy. Because I didn't know what to do with my life. Because I was free at last.

Gender, Frumkeit and Culture

2009-04-02T17:50:00.001-07:00

I read a study of Lebanese Muslim immigrant teens; which states that in that community, females are the repository of cultural maintenance. What with external symbols like hijabs and such, while men are pushed to blend and succeed economically in the outside world.

It occurred to me that in our community the opposite is true: Men are the repository of cultural maintenance- they perform rituals while women engage in activities of daily living. they are the ones who carry Jewish identity on their shirtsleeves, maintain jestudy legal codes out of date for hundreds of years, and speak their creole of yiddish and english- while women wear relatively normal clothes, use proper grammar and get college degrees...

what this says about gender and status I do not know. but i always felt a bit envious and yet repelled by those hijabs... like a pair of tzitzis, I wanted one too.

Bedtime Stories

2009-04-01T19:40:00.001-07:00

Every so often, I don the long skirts, and go to visit my nieces and nephews, where I get to play celebrity for the day.

"Tell me a story," they surround me and I rack my brain, for some entertaining incident from the past. "Once upon a time, when your mother was a little girl..." is their favorite genre.

I remember my brother as a teen telling my mother, "Why do you let Ki Sarita associate with the younger kids? Aren't you afraid she'll be a bad influence?" I on the other hand condemned his search for shidduch with money to support him in learning. But one day I called a truce: You won't criticize my life and I won't criticize yours.

So now I tell stories to his kids. I tell them about getting chased by a dog, or about a lost lunch box. Their parents are thrilled as well.

The most important stories, like the ones on this blog, well those- those I don't say.

watch out, the 60's are coming to black hat land!

2009-02-16T08:11:00.000-08:00

The yeshivish community likes to believe that they are preserving an ancient way of life since the time of avraham avinu. little do they realize that while they are in fact, preserving an old fashion lifestyle, it doesn't go as far back as creation, but only about 4-5 decades or so.

you got it, those were the times when any respectable american man wore a hat on his head, the very same type of hat that became so prized as a yeshiva bochurs symbol of dignity, piety, and conformity. the very same hat, that if you think about it, today serves as a true symbol of what the yeshivish community aspires to... the good ole 1950s.

It's not only expressed in fashion. In the 1950's the jews, having made it in their new land were only to eager to identify with other suburban white folks. That meant of course, being superior to blacks. But in the 60's and 70's, when the nation experienced a moral awakening with regard to racism, the orthodox who had begun their retreat from society in response to what they saw as the decadent cultural values of the age, somehow missed the party, to this day in the ultra O community, the type of racist talk that has been since banned from civilized environments, is bandied around as if it's normal.

The orthodox missed the entire wave of multiculturalism as if it never happened. My brother, for example, wonder why the world empathizes with the Arabs, since after all, we are western (and therefore normal) while they are not.... They use the word "modern" suspiciously, as if modernity is their main competition, not realizing that the world has left modernity behind for post modernity.

The culture of conspicuous consumerism and materialism, for which the 50's are infamous, is epidemic, as are the elaborate superficial social requirements for young people, especially women, to snag a mate. Looking great to the outside world while slugging alcohol, or antidepressants, behind your bathroom door ala an erma bombeck heroine is de rigeur. Reputation is everything, content is better hidden. Remember the 1950's girls who were told never to be too smart, or men wouldn't want them? Well, Orthodox girls are getting the same messages. Apparently no one has told them that nowadays, smart is sexy in the dreaded outside world.

The neighbors are god. In the 50's, pregnant teenage girls were spirited away to group homes until giving birth, when they were than forcibly made to give their babies to secret, closed file adoptions- so no one would ever know. In my case, my frum parents who voted for bush, palin and mccain, told me, "Oh, thank god you had an abortion. Now if you ever get pregnant again we'll cut you off." (After all, and abortion which is probalby more assur, is a lot easier to hide from the neighbors than a baby...)

I can't say I blame the frum. Imagine how frightening the sudden upheaval and questioning of all known values must have been. And the resultant confusion that permeates society almost make you long for the good old 1950's, when every one knew what their place was in family and society and what they should be doing at every age, and everyone was gearing up for an age of certain prosperity.

But superficiality and hypocricy wear thin. And facade of meaningfulness can only last so long. Just as in the 50's a rumble of discontent bubbled and simmered under the veneer of cheery sophistication, it's rumbling and bubbling now. Kids at risk, financial collapse, child molestor scandals, shidduch crises and the blogosphere are all converging and the volcano is going to erupt.

1300 deaths

2009-01-18T20:44:00.000-08:00

I can't sleep all of a sudden thinking about 1300 deaths.
1300 deaths is too much to justify.
I know that the Hamas was instigating it and I know they were used as human shields and I blame the Hamas entirely for their role in it.
And I believe the IDF 100% that they did not deliberately target civilians.
But still, 1300? we went too far.

We went way too far.

It will probably work....
at least in the short run...

But in the long run, (if we aren't butchered like in rwanda in revenge) we run the risk of doing it over and over and over again.
And if we do that we've lost.
Won the battle against our enemy. But lost our souls.
And lost the next generation of Jews and Israelis.
Better to leave now. Better to pick up and go.

Doda Ki Sarita

2009-01-18T07:53:00.000-08:00

I can barely hear my Mom telling me goodbye and how great it was too see me, with my dad echoing her in the background. She keeps talking as I head with my bag down the steps, as if she can’t let me go yet. Are they waiting for me to reciprocate with some display of affection? As if they had never threatened me with a permanent cut off? Today has been my first visit since.

“If you ever get pregnant again, not only will your child have no father, it won’t have grandparents either, and quite probably no aunts or uncles.” they had said. I had gave them three months to think about it, three months in which I attended, smiled, and acted pleasant at all family affairs (which in my family seem to occur about every other day). I gave them three months to rescind their ultimatum. They hadn’t. They reiterated their postion as forcefully as ever. Then I gave them three months of silent treatment. In self defense.

I broke the silence for my sibling's sake, as of yet unawares. but when I arrived, I was greeted by the impish smile of my six year old nephew Avromi, whose parents had just dropped him off for a weekend at grandma’s.

Now Mom is telling me how wonderful it was for Avromi to have me around. “You’re the reason he had such a good time,” says my Mom. “You showered him with so much TLC and cuddling.” I hadn’t, really. Sure I hugged him and held him some but generally I engaged him in more intellectual activities. We read stories and played chess, and I took him with me when I visit my friend But he did bask and shine in all that adult to adult attention, that part is true.

“He’s such a cuddly kid,” my Mom continues. “I’d like to cuddle him but I feel like I must maintain my authority.”

Finally something wakes me out of my cocoon. “Mom!” I say, “If grandma won’t cuddle a child, then who will?”

Such a cuddly kid? He isn’t, really. An image from a couple of years ago flashes into my mind: “Ki Sarita, please put something under that short jacket,” Mom is exhorting me. “When you reach up your stomach shows and your father was horrified!” But had he even noticed? “Ki Sarita, your brother is embarrassed to be seen with you with such a low neckline,” she tried on another occasion.

So if it’s not Avromi, than who is she talking about if not her own firstborn baby, me?

“I want to cuddle him. But I have to maintain some authority.”

Adult to Adult, I wish I could hug and kiss her too. Yet I have my own authority to maintain.

And I’m not just talking about Avromi either; if Grandma won’t cuddle my child, who will?

the only hope for israel is binational

2009-01-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

The only hope for israel- meaning the only hope to keep the land of our forefathers as a place where jews can flourish and grow over the long term- is to revert to a binational Israel-Palestine.

For starters we need to stop defending our right to exist and just exist. Second, the more powerful and numerous our Palestinian brothers and sisters become, the more we are going to need to depend on violence, racism and discrimination to keep them down and the less and less justified it will be, plus it won't work. Third we can go back to being upper class jews, the cream of the crop of our country, as we have always been in the golah, instead of developing our very own indigenous sector of juvenile delinquents and sex traffickers.

Last but not least, we can reclaim ourselves as JEWS, not an indistinguishable part of the west.
(and therefore not necessary to define our judaims in terms of either western- liberal- secular or anti-western-fundamentalist-reactionary.)

Does this mean we should attempt to impose this solution now? ABSOLUTELY NOT! If only because if both sides are equally unarmed our brothers and sisters might attempt to kill us out w their bare hands.

However, it has to stop becoming taboo in Israeli politics to the extent that they cut off the Arab party whose platform is a binational state. It has to become part of the discussion among Jews.
As well as a cooperative dialogue between Jews and Arabs about it, so that if and when it does happen, it can happen peacefully and cooperatively, with Jews making a significant portion of the new rules. Of course for the time being we should contintue to focus on making israel strong, partition efforts, and improving relations within our borders. But at the same time we can begin this cooperative dialogue for a couple generations down the road. The idea that a separeate peace is a precondition for coexistence.

With the current level of enmity, this doesn't seem likely at this time. but maybe this can change.

If it doesn't we could consider something else:

Before 48 Abdullah of jordan split off from the other arabs in the UN. He felt since that half of Palestine was already his, he should be given the other, and he would either partition it himself, or create a Jewish autonomy within the hashemite kingdom. Maybe, as we approach the point where we can no longer sustain israel demographically we might visit an option with Jordan again.

jolene, jolene

2008-10-22T13:59:00.000-07:00

jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene,
I'm begging you, please don't take my man

jolen, jolene, jolene, jolene,
please don't take him just because you can

the music is catchy and makes you want to dance-
but a sad dance, a dance that try as it might, doesn't take away the pain and desperation
hiding in the words. Words that I have heard in real life,
not verbatim of course (my name isn't jolene and seldom are people honest and humble/proud enough to resort to openly begging...)
but I've heard them clearly enough, hiding and lurking under friendly words, sisterly affection,
and occasionally moral outrage. I've heard that tune playing, crying out from deep in their solar plexus, though the words may be saying something different entirely.

And yeah, I am guilty.

what does every woman want?
more than a career, wealth, education, opportunity
even more than children.
(Yes, even that!)
and even more than women's tefillah groups?

women want someone
not just women here
women EVERYWHERE
women want a husband who will love them singularly for their entire lives
that's what women want.

I understood this when I was a plain old feminist.
I was offended and outraged.
When my best friend married a polygamist
(in the name of Torah- what am i supposed to do for two weeks while my wife is niddah?
he said...)
I left Torah.
when arab men flirted with me
I stormed out of the room. "What am I? Your girlfriend????"
while everyone, his wife included, cracked up.
He never did that again.

One day my friend's husband asked me to marry him,
so he could get a green card.
"you and my wife are like sisters," he told me. "you'll get along great"
I looked at his wife, my potential "sister". ("If I'm friendly with men, he'd throw me out", she once told me.)"Don't worry about him, He's full of it," she said, calmly matter of factly.
I found myself suddenly wondering.
"It's illegal," I told him apologetically.
but that was all.

When I told my mom about this conversation, she said
"You go and you tell him you don't find anything funny about it. You better go."
My mom had not been exposed to radical feminists challenging the definition of family, after all.

I had been exposed to it.
Thinking I was so liberal to deny mine and others pain.
Funny how I never realized,
how most of them, were men who were trying to get me into bed.

choice

2008-10-12T06:40:00.001-07:00

The anesthesiologist comes wheeling them out of the procedure room, one after the other, and we the nurses have to monitor them, transfer them to chairs, and give them their medications without missing a beat.

Cathy! Cathy! We call them out of anesthesia. Latisha! Latisha! Wake up!

Slowly, slowly they wake. And even before they can respond to my call, before they can speak, turn their head, mumble or even open their eyes, tears are forming at the corners of their eyes.

There they are, a row of four or five girls , and two or three of them weeping, the others probably wishing they could. All in the same boat. And yet they all feel so alone, so terribly alone.
I don't think we help by our sanitized talk. "Your procedure is done," we tell them, as if we are talking about a dental extraction. And yet, the most bost battle worn among us sometimes can not help ourselves, and sometimes we must, we must go over and hold them tight, even as we hold back our own tears. Even the ones of us, who keep to ourselves, our own still-fresh experience in the stretcher.

Who are we protecting?

There is one mother of two, her stomach all stretched out an boggy from her other babies. A Spanish girl. Weeping. She was less than six weeks pregnant. "No le duele nada," I tell her in my broken spanish. "No sufre nada. Solo, tu, la mama, sufre mucho." I believe it truly. We are all mothers after all, even of our unborn children. We would rather punish ourselves than them.

"I can't believe I did this," many of them say. Especially the young ones. The older ones usually know more what they want, and they usually already have a young baby at home.

One teen is sobbing silently in her chair, silently without words.
How old is she? Fourteen? I take her pulse, her blood pressure, check her fundus, but she is in another world, another world.

I am a professional. I may not touch. I may not get involved.

But aint I a woman?

And suddenly, I'm a professional no longer, just another little girl, scared and lost and confused, and I'm hugging her, hugging her and carressing her face, as if she was my own lost child, the one that never got a chance to grow inside me. I'm touching her face, and telling her what someone once told me. You'll call it back, I whisper. In the right time, you'll call it back.

And I let my tears come too.

cute little jewish bad kids

2008-10-02T08:43:00.000-07:00

I remember Tzipora. Pencil thin, with red dyed hair. Tight shorts. "חולצת בטן , midriff exposed. Attidute everywhere. "Lo Rotza!" is her classic response, whether I tell her that its time for dinner, or to please turn the music down, or maybe, does she need any help with her homework. "Laamod BaTzomet!" when I ask what she's going to do over the summer. I didn't want to display my ignorance by asking what that meant, but I think an Israeli slang reference to prostitution.

One day she appears at my door, all shy.

"Do you have a pad?"

I looked all around. My always ultra american ultra plusses had been in high demand by my students and I only had a few left for myself. So I offered her a tampon instead.

Her jaw dropped, she tried to speak but could only stutter a timid no- thank you, and disappeared non plussed.

Oh, such tough and promiscuous girls they were.

all i need to know i learned in SEMINARY

2008-09-25T14:03:00.000-07:00

“No girl should get married unless she is willing to be subservient to her husband.”

“No husband should feel inferior to his wife, just because she supports him.”But while I personally agree that no one should feel inferior based on their private financial arrangements, our teacher apparently had no such faith in the self esteem of the would be male Talmud scholars- “One of my students would give her entire paycheck, unopened to her husband to deposit- so he should feel like he earned it.”

The self esteem of women was apparently of lesser importance. “I used to have my daughters do chores for my sons, so as not to disturb their learning,” said another teacher, a prominent Rebetzin. I recently discovered that this practice didn’t originate from her; it originated from Rebbetzin Rishel Kotler whose biography I found lying around not long again the women’s section of a nearby shul. Rebbetzin Rishel was also praised for making herself scarce at her husband Rabbi Ahron Kotler’s deathbed, to make way for his students, his true soulmates, to be with him during his final hours.

Our teacher told us these and other stories of female self denigration with great relish, including them in her parshat hashavua curriculum on par with Rashi and Ramban. It seemed that nothing that we as females could do, could possibly be as important as the Talmud study a male could do. Not even giving birth. We heard stories about Rebbetzins in labor in one part of the house, holding in their grunts and groans, so has not to disturb their husband’s study sessions in the adjoining section. (So much for lip service paid towards the idealization of Jewish motherhood.) “I don’t expect you to be at that level,” she said magnanimously. “But at least, when you’re NOT in labor, remember this story and don’t interrupt.”

Though Talmud apparently was the be all end all the pinnacle of Jewish observance, it was never taught to us. That in itself was not unexpected- teaching Talmud to women is still a relatively new phenomenon. But the young women were not taught ANY of the classic halachic sources. All material was presented orally by a Rabbi standing in front of the room, with the occasional use of a popular practical guide. Fluency in original sources was limited to Tanach and commentaries and mussar sefarim, neither of which, in the long run, are thought to be authorative relative to halacha. In an institute that prided itself on its supposed high level of learning, the reason for the omission could only be ideological.

I once asked an instructor why did we not, at least, study halacha from a standard halachic text. “So you shouldn’t think you can pasken,” was his answer. “You should have been a boy!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm toward a student who had made a particularly astute point. But alas, we were females, so no matter how profound our abilities, our poor teacher was forced to continue educating us towards mediocrity, to keep us dependent on the guidance of men and of the religious establishment.

(excerpt from long article found here)

to sell out

2008-07-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

remember ruchele?
she married someone 15 years older
who immediately after the wedding
became a frumme, a hussid,
and proceeded to criticize her books, thoughts and tell her what she could or couldn't bring
into the house
(she did it on the advice of my dad, of course,
who told her she should go for it because at her age this was her last chance)
in the infrequent times we get together, she talks about her husband as HE,
with a note of resentment.
and about whatever she happens to be reading/ thinking about, that she has to hide under the table from HIM.
I promised myself I'd never sell out like she did.
And now,
I just wish I could.

זנות מהי

2008-05-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

חושבים שיודעים.
חושבים שיודעים מה זה זנות
בין אם באים לאסור (השמרנים למען טוהר החברה)
או להתיר
(הליברלים למען חפש מיני(

זנות מהי?
יחסי מין תמורת תשלום" יגידו"

או אם הם באים מנקודת מבט דתית
או פטרארכית)
יפסקו כמו הרמבם
,יחסי מין מחוץ למסגרת הנישואים,
ללא הגבלה לאיש אחד,
ללא התחייבות, או לתקופה קצרה

לא ידעו ולא יבינו.

הם לא ידעו ולא יבינו עד שיהיו כמוני
אני יודעת כי אני עסקתי בזה המון בחיים שלי
בלי לדרוש גרוש

הזנות הרחובית הלא חקית היא סתם ביטוי מוקצן של עצם הזנות
שאני עצמי חוויתי פעם אחר פעם
זנות זה כשאת פועלת ומשרתת ומוסרת את גופך להנאת מישהו אחר מבלי שתהני את
בין במסגרת נישואין
בין ברחוב
בין עם פרטנר אחד בין עם מאה פרנטרים

זנות זה לחייך ולצחוק כאלו מצלמים אותך למגזין
כאלו את בשיא השמחוה והששון של חייך

זנות זה לעשות
HAND JOBS
כדי שיניחו לך לישון
זה לתת להם
TO SLOBBER ALL OVER YOUR FACE
כדי שיחזרו אלייך
כדי לא להעליב
או סתם למען החסד
והשלום.

זנות זה שפל
למה?
מה בינה לבין שאר עבודות או פעילויות?

תשמעי
את יכולה לעבוד משהו כמו מלצרית ולבלות אל כל ימך בהגשת אכל
אבל יודעת מה?
סוף היום
את הולכת מעבודה חוזרת הביתה
אבל
את עד יום מותך לא הולכת להפרד מגופך

את רק מרגישה ככה....
שהגוף שלך במקום אחד
והנשמה שלך איפשהו במקום אחר

the goilem of flatbush

2008-05-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

(sequel to Kol Isha Confrontation)

went to visit my folks the other week, ready to be the bigger man
and i don't want to lose touch with my sister

i'm behaving very well
I don't say a word out of turn
in fact i barely say a word at all
no one asks about my life and i don't tell them
i brought my guitar for candlelighting
but ran away and hid in my room to play a few half hearted chords at sundown

my dad is singing at the table
this time there are no brother in laws or male guests around (that will be tomorrow)
unless my six year old nephew avromi counts

my dad looks at me and says, come on you can sing

i didn't get mad because goilems don't get mad
i just said "goilem's can't sing"
FINE DON'T SING said my dad

avromi didn't quite get it
I explained:
"Only someone with a neshama can sing"

"But you have a neshama"

I do but it aint here

Clothes

2008-05-15T06:11:00.000-07:00

I can't remember a time when we didn't fight about clothes.

There's a picture of me at my kindergarten graduation wearing a navy blue snoopy skirt, one of my earliest memories. I know it's a real memory because in the photo I am smiling. If I didn't actually remember it, I would have no clue as to the tantrum that came before; I had wanted to wear the navy-green one. It's a good thing I didn't realize what a harbinger this was of things to come- I may not have smiled for the camera so easily.

When I was fourteen, I discovered I was sexy. Although I didn't chapp exactly what that meant; in our gender segregated environment it was more about competing with the other girls than about attracting anyone. I bought long tight skirts to my ankles, slit up the back so I could walk and showed them off at after-school events.

My parents forbade it. I refused to comply.

They grounded me and sent me to my room, not to leave it except to go to school. I received portions of food from the family dinner at my door. I lost three pounds. They imprisoned me not by any threats of violence, but by my own parental awe. It took me over a week to pick myself up and walk out. My father hit me on my butt. It didn't hurt but that wasn't the point. I should have hit him back and saved the relationship. Instead, I refused to speak to him for six months. I still barely do.

At least I was free. Sort of. I don't know how it disappeared but I never saw the skirt in question again. I gave it up; I was tired of fighting.

But the tahdiya was short live. About a month later, I rode my bike to drama club after school. I was wearing a jeans skirt. It must have gone up or something, I don't know, because the next day I got pulled out of class and brought to the principal. "I was so shocked! I thought, it just can't be one of our girls!" she said. "You must promise you will never wear that skirt again!"
Ha. She thought it would be that easy? Obviously she didn't realize how battle scarred I was.

"I will never wear it to school again." I said.
"You must promise never to wear it again anywhere," she said.

I was scared. I was crying. But I couldn't make that promise.
"I can't make a promise that I know I'm not going to keep" I stuttered in between sobs.
"And stop crying!" she said. "It's not like I beat you or anything."

I was officially suspended. It was my mother who got me out of this pickle by promising the principal that next year she would transfer me to another more enlightened school. I bit my tongue at the irony.

So as soon as the play was over, I was allowed back into school, if only for the remainder of the year. I had lost my role in the drama but on production night I clapped and cheered myself hoarse for my fellow students, none of whom had even phoned me during my absence or expressed any kind of support.

At age 18, I was sent to a Jerusalem nunnery, supposedly an institute of higher learning, that had three page dress code, and locked the students inside at 10pm with no key. Over all my protests, my mother would send me care packages of beautiful, fashionable clothes, which I promptly crumpled up and stuffed under a dusty pile of suitcases. “You don’t know my style!” I’d yell in a rage, though I wasn’t sure I knew it either. When my mother came to visit me, uninvited, I showed her around Jerusalem wearing my plain old bis skirt with the falling hem and the rip in the side.

After two years of seminary I returned home with a new mindset (or so I thought), and a new look. I kept the biz skirts and the A-lines but I had thrown out the straight skirts as well as all t shirts, which showed a hint of a figure, to be replaced with loose blouses. My mother, who really is very fashionable and classy looking, sometimes tried to lend me something less frumpy, but I refused, on grounds of modesty. I had beaten them at their own game.

Or so I thought. Playing someone else's game looses its allure after a while, even when you kick ass.

to be continued

the girl who refused to wear a bra

2008-04-08T17:44:00.000-07:00

My reaction when I first Faigy was the shock of recognition. Faigy was the preteen daughter of my teacher Rabbi N. Rabbi N. was a trip in his own right. Why he chose to teach in a girls seminary was anyone's guess- he often made it rather plain that he'd rather be studying gemara. He had no problem talking to us alone in his school office. But when we'd go to his home for shabat dinner, we would be seated at one end of the table making small talk with his wife and daughters while he scarcely acknowledged us with a nod, deep in conversation at the other end with his son's friends. But somehow, he presented himself as a mentor and the girls flocked to him.

Faigy dressed in the standard navy blue of a bais yacov girl. Her shoulders leaned forward and back was hunched over slightly. Her bosom leaned forward dropped down inconspicuously where it melted way into the anonymity of her loose blouse, buffered inside by an undershirt. Or maybe even two, to hide them better. There was no bra line on her back visible through the blouse which was sort of self evident anyway, judging by the fallen position of the breasts.

I imagined her mother the Rebbetzin conducting worried conversations her daughters denial of her developing body, evidenced by her refusal to wear a bra, with her middle age friends, like my mom discussed it with my teacher. Did the Rebbetzin discuss it with Rabbi N too? The very thought was mortifying. In my case, I think my mom and my teacher had discussed it, but maybe in Israeli Haredi society such a conversation would be verboten.

Its not the first time I've seen young girls like that, in a futile attempt to cover up, deny and hide our blooming bodies- from ourselves as much as from others. In my time, there were quite a few of us. I suppose mine was worse because I was the first.

Once upon a time, some time after I had already passed that critical period, I came accross this book. "Are you there god? It's me, Margaret." The back cover quotes an excerpt: "God, make me grow. You know where."

Amazing! You mean girls actually wanted to grow? Looked forward to it? Like Margaret I had lain in bed talking to god, but I had prayed something different- "God, please take them away" Somehow, though I couldn't understand it, I had a dim awareness that in the world out there, breasts were something girls took pride in, buying "training bras" when they had little more than buds. But Margaret would even go to bed with a sanitary pad between her legs, to "practice". She and her friends competed over who would be the first, not the last, to get it.

Me and my girlfriend used to gossip, in whispered disdain, who probably had it. I'd tense up inside, lest i be discovered. I wonder now if she did the same. This friend then became my enemy; and together with another huncher would harrass me about my smell, the presence of breasts, and probably period. All supreme insults. They started calling me contaminated, treating me as if I had cooties. One day I got pissed off stood in the doorway. You're going to have to touch me or you won't be able to pass!

She tried to maneuver and duck but I was quicker and blocked her! As soon as our bodies touched she began screaming bloody murder. She screamed so loud that everyone including me thought I had punched her! The principal was about to call in the cops, the national guard, and my mom, but my other classmates reported the harrassment (sans the juicy details) so the matter was allowed to rest.

Eventually we all put on our bras (even Faigy) and grew up. Once a significant number were in the same boat it didn't really matter. (We were ready to embark on our next developmental neurosis- eating disorders).

Why some of us and not others? I don't know. Somehow in Feigy's case at least, I'm sure her father's attitude had something to do with it, as did my situation as a girl among brothers. But whatever the reason, I do know that despite the lessons we parrotted on tznius and the exalted status of the jewish women, some of us, on a very deep visceral level just couldn't buy it.

מתלמידיו של אהרן

2008-03-16T19:23:00.000-07:00

story told to me by pink foot:
(who btw is known as a one person hessed stop, a picker upper off the street, a social worker and connections maker...)

There was always screaming, screaming, screaming from the apartment down the hall.
Apparently someone had even called the police.

Pink Foot decided to step in one day, though she trembled and went dumb, she asked hashem to put words into her mouth.

"It hurts me all this screaming and fighting. I don't care if you are partying, partying music until 3 in the morning. but this fighting i can not take. if i hear it again i will knock on the door. i will sit in your living room until it stops if i have too."

and so she did.
for a few weeks.
and she learned new things.

First it seemed as if the son was shouting at his mother. Then it seemed as if the mohter was doing all the screaming. Then it came to light that someone needed medication that she wasn't taking. Then it seemed as if the husband was beating up on her. then it came to light that the husband didn't even live there, but there was a brother frequently visiting his sister and his old mother, who had been taken in there.

at one point the old lady started screaming and screaming at the caregiver. pinkfoot said try silence for half an hour. not a day, not a week. half an hour.

and do you know what? the old lady got tired and she shut up.

The woman would call out to pinkfoot who had since gone back down he hall "i'm doing it, i'm doing it. I'm not screaming...."

They weren't crazy, they weren't violent, they were carrying out filial loyalty but were just in way over their heads.

They needed support, not condemnations.
And most of all, they needed someone who cared enough to stick with them and spend the time.

מתלמידותיה של ושתי המלכה

2008-03-15T19:53:00.000-07:00

לסיפור מגילת אסתר יש עלילה מרכזית על מלחמת היהודים ועלילה משנית על פמניזם וניצול מיני
ושתי שעמדה על עצמה והתנגדה לניצולה והשפלתה, מהר מאד אבדה לא רק את משרתה, השפעתה, כבודה במסורת (וי"א חייה) אלא גם את מקומה כגיבורת הסיפור
ומאמציה אף זכו ל
backlash
מחריד

לעמת זאת אסתר שמסרה את כבודה, ששיחקה את המשחק, היא לבסוף זוכה להיות הזונה הראשית, המלכה, המושלת מספר 2 במלכות.

ובעלילה המרכזית, מרדכי שלא יכרע ולא ישתחוה הביא על עמו
backlash באותה מידה
שלא פותר עד למאמציה של אסתר שנושאת חן בעיני המלך על ידי שנופלת על פניה בוכה מתחננת
מוצצת ומלקקת

נו, בעיני הסיפור,
לחלשים,
האשה וכן היהודי
למרות שהצדק אתם, אין הצלחתם אלא בהשפלתם ובכניעתם
(מבלי להצדיק בכלשהו את החזק העוין(

ולא הייתי לוקחת את זה בכלל אל הלב
שאינני כפופה לדעתו של מחבר המגילה
לולא מצבי המוחצן והבודד
וכי מה יצא לי כלתמידת ושתי,
לא למען עמי ולא למען עצמי

children of the land

2008-02-10T20:16:00.000-08:00

the dead see is evaporating.

The river water is undrinkable,
the streets are clogged with cars,
the cities with movie theaters and shopping malls.

sparse groups of bedouins have lived for centuries off the desert

But we greened it!

We took an abandoned wilting unused land and made it bloom! Surely,
as our prophets foretold,
the land was waiting for us, for its children to return.

But the dead see is evaporating. Even as we tout our ahava exports.

Romanians pick oranges
israelis live off hi tec startups
and travel to India for spirituality

The dead sea is evaporating,
the kinneret water levels are at a critical low
to sustain the population explosion that is modern israel
while we create think tanks,
write books, and attend conferences on the future of jewish identity and the state of israel

three times a day depending on our religio-political affiliation
we watch TV or pray
as if we were in boro park
or uganda.

While the dead sea evaporates.

eco shabat

2008-02-10T19:54:00.001-08:00

originally posted in august

eco-shabat
לא תבערו אש בכל מושבותיכם ביום השבת

i'm not sure what the modern day karaites do, but the ancient tzedokim interpreted it to mean,you shall have no fire burning. even a fire lit before shabat.

when I was in tennessee on the farm I heard veggie-van man expounding on various conspiracy theories on how the government had suppressed research that would have led to radical revolutionary alternative means of producing energy. one of them was simply hooking in to the air, earth, existence in general, all for free.I thought he was talking bullshit but one thing stayed with me. he said"how would have the world have been different if we wouldn't have to destroy anything to produce energy?"

i wonder.i wonder how the world would have changed, how economics would have been effected, how technology would have been different, how society would have been, if the entire mankind had to create a world in which we could not burn fuel own energy for an entire day. If we really held ourselves back from tampering with gods world. after all he gave us six days, that's not enough for us?

I once got a mass email from Rains's wife " tomorrow Feb 3 (or whatever it was) at 12 oclock London time WE ARE ALL GOING TO HAVE A GLOBAL UNPLUGGING. Everybody stop what you are doing and turn everything off for one hour!"I wanted to tell her "hey, no חידוש! I do it every week for 24 hrs!" but I realized that was a big fat lie!The fridge. the heating or air conditioning. the plata. not unplugged, no. decidedly not.

So For the past couple of weeks I've been experimenting. For example I eat unrefrigerated unheated food shabat morning. Last week it spoiled. I suppose i could get a cooler but how long will that last?Keeping the air conditioning off wasn't fun either, but i spent most of my time reading outside under a shady tree and getting bit by mosquitos.i escaped eco shabat this week by visiting my parents, decidedly not eco-anything. (i chose the fourth commandment over the fifth...)

winter it will be easier. I can always keep my food outside on the fire escape. and go back inside, and freeze to death if i don't keep the heating.

Once I emailed my friend הקורא how some of his karaite friends who don't use electricity on shabat manage and he told me how, but i don't remember exactly now. I asked him if they have a good shabat or if they have a miserable day. he said they think everything is cheesy but HE thinks they have a miserable day.

I can't figure out. Most probably, a compromise is in order.

what's wrong with malky???

2007-08-27T21:29:00.000-07:00

Malky would entertain her handicapped/mildly developmentally delayed uncle Yidel when he visited. one day when Malky was 12, just at that awkward puberty stage, Uncle Yidel started telling Malky how pretty she was. Malky smiled and said thanks, but she didn't feel so comfortable, and she couldn't quite explain why. after all, she knew it was true, she was pretty. "you know malky, I had dreams about you." said yidel. "you did?" said malky, not so sure she wanted to hear more, but again not knowing why she felt that way.

"I dreamed we were on an island and you were sleeping next to me and i was stroking you. "

Malky felt nauseous but kept smiling, after all he was a nebach, and her uncle, and a guest, besides what was so terrible about that? "You were?" she said. "yes, and you liked it, you cuddled up and scrunched up next to me and purred like a cat." Malky wanted to run. Why? What was so awful? She forced a bright smile. "Well, it was just a dream!"

"I guess so" said Yidel, "because just then your father came to wake we up to go to minyan."

malky wished someone would wake her up at that point too, but it wasn't a dream. She didn't know what to say. So she just smiled and said "that's nice." She ran to her room and looked in the mirror. Was it her clothes? she was always trying to look "modern" like her cousin batsheva... probably. it was her fault. after all, she told him "that's nice," and smiled, didn't she? But why was she so upset? nothing happened. and what was so terrible about the dream anyway? "forget about it" she thought, "it's nothing, let him be, he's just a nebech."

And she forgot about it. She never mentioned it to anyone; she was too ashamed. Besides, there was no need; the visits were few and far between anyway. And she always smiled and was polite, and made sure to be busy with her own things most of the time, and dissappear into the woodwork.

Yidel's health deteriorated and he was placed in a home in a faraway city near Bubbe and Zaide so they could keep an eye on him and be with him on shabbos and Yom tov. Malky didn't think about it one way or the other. Her younger siblings would send him cards and arts and crafts projects from school, but she never thought about Yidel at all. Until Bubbe and Zaide decided they were too old to make pesach on their own. so they were flying on in. they, and Yidel.

Malky was 18. And dismayed at the thought. she didn't want him around. And though she understood a little more about what was going on in that conversation, and she still wasn't sure why she was so upset. it wasn't as if he could actually do anything to anyone, confined to his wheelchair. He couldn't even go to the toilet himself. What did she care what he said or thought?

But it bothered her; and needled at her, and tugged at the corners of her awareness until she decided to tell her father. "Tatte... about pesach... I don't feel so comfortable. do you know what yidel once said? yidel once said he dreams about me." Tatte didn't say anything. He didn't seem to understand. After all, anyone can dream about anyone. Tatty, please understand! Please don't make me spell it out! " But it was Tatte's own brother she was talking about, how could she expect Tatte to reject his own sick brother??? She burned with shame and guilt at the thought. A sick, lonely, person and she was trying to take away his only joy in life. she fell silent.

Yidel couldn't do much. He parked himself in the living room in his wheelchair and sat. The little ones brought him tidbits of food, sang songs and colored pictures for him. All the same things malky had done at their age. malky wondered if yidel would start dreaming about them. She tried to do her share pesach cleaning, but it was hard to keep avoiding the living room- she squeezed by as infrequently as possible trying to keep herself out of his line of view. She made herself invisible. "act normal!" she hissed at herself.

Yom Tov came and Malky stayed in her housecoat, leaving her carefully chosen new kallah maidel yom tov dresses hanging in the closet, so they wouldn't get any wine spilled on them. She sat down at her seat at the seder table, averting her eyes from yidel's direction. malky can you pour the wine? malky can you bring the water? malky can you help serve the food? Malky spent the whole time trying to make herself scarce as possible. she didn't hear a word of the hagada. she went to her room and rested. back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. just get me out of here.

What's wrong with malky? she heard tatte ask mommy soto voce. "why is she in such a bad mood"

"I don't know," mommy answered, "but don't worry too much, you know how moody teenage girls can be."

heard from "Malky"
posted here with permission
please do not repost

questions I have about the story - is malky responding appropriately or not? is her father?

I'm sick of americans

2007-08-11T19:45:00.000-07:00

the scene was in a ghanaian village, me, some of the american college kids, and some local ghanaian teenage boys (I always wondered what exactly was the cultural restrictions against girls hanging out with us?). we were surrounding a campfire. time for stories. we sang and beat drums. the ghanaians told some kind of fable, which I didn't understand. one of our groups announced, "lets all go around telling the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you."
He proceeded to tell some story about some huge fart.

americans are silly, shallow, immature, assholes.
(no pun intended)

in shul, I put my hands over my ears...

2007-08-05T06:45:00.000-07:00

... when they read a certain pasuk but it didn't stop the gruesome mental image of a rabbi with a beard and deep voice beating the crap out of his kid fighting not to cry, all the while solemnly intoning
כאשר ייסר איש את בנו השם אלהיך מיסרך...

god in us

2007-07-29T06:24:00.000-07:00

what is god in us?
i think its the drive, the push, the basic will to evolve, to survive, to create, to overcome, the life force.
not only in us humans but in every other conscious and non conscious being down to the tiniest electron (foton or whatever they call it)
this is what connects us to the original will, the great all encompassing urge, the divine longing (conscious in my opinion) that created the world itself and continues to expand.

and it lead to the assumption that the driving moral imperative is to expand, to evolve

אבל אשמים אנחנו על אחינו

2007-07-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

On a dusty shelf in the back of some closet somewhere there lies buried a box full of old letters, photos, cards, and faxes. This is my seminary box; a box I no longer look at; a box with hints to times of which I’m not proud; that point to a self that I’d rather not remember. Some are letters from me to my family, with the pro-kollel propagandist Divre Torah that I once found inspiring. Some are from my mom to me, in the name of the whole family of course, reporting sabbath table discussions on whom I might marry.
None of these are things I particularly care to reminisce about. But one letter is etched into my memory.
“I miss you so much, my heart is crying,” reads the card, scrawled in an eleven year old hand. And, “please, please, when are you coming back to me.” I don’t remember what, if anything, I responded then,
But after all these years, I have come back. Only now, my little brother is no longer eleven.
* * * *

When my brother began high school, I was still in Israel and had frummed out in the meantime. He became hostile, offensive, socially awkward and difficult to be around, and less observant. He got kicked out of his yeshiva and was sent to one of those yeshivas for rejects, for “kids at risk”. My mother would call me and ask my advice on how to handle my brother. Why me? Maybe because of the bond I had held with my brother, now fading fast. Maybe because I had mildly rebelled myself and supposedly shaped up.

I hated those phonecalls. They would arouse a vague feeling of discontent that would linger around for days. I was shocked when I realize that its source was not care and concern; but jealousy. Yes, jealousy. I was blind to my baby brother’s suffering, but he was forcing me to become cognizant of my own unfinished rebellion, nipped in the bud.
But I was now supposedly a mature responsible adult, and my mom’s ally now.

Our alliance, our bond was effectively broken. True, it had been dormant for years, as the sensitive child he had been was now gone replaced by tough shell of an adolescent with not much underneath the shell, and I had become a self absorbed self styled “spiritual”. But now it went further than that. There were sides in the family to be taken: an inside and an outside. I was Inside. He was Outside.

Things got worse, and my brother got kicked out of the house. I am not sure what the reason was; I do not know if it was some stupid religious shtick or if he in fact presented a danger to the other kids. It was Erev pesach, and my mother still wasn’t allowing him back, so he accepted an invitation from a rabbi from his yeshiva.

All of a sudden I knew what I must do.

continued here: OutSiders

love sex abuse and abusers

2007-07-04T12:05:00.001-07:00

(MAY BE REPOSTED)

this post is not about serial molesters, cruel sadistic or violent molesters, sex crazed maniacs, devious manipulative psychopaths, or the institutions that cover up for them

this post is about regular people who molest, or who have molested in the past
this post is about people who were loving gentle spiritual people. this post is about people who paradoxically, truly cared about the young person whose life they were about to devastate.

these people could be ANYONE. in fact, they are usually the people we love most! the people we could least believe it about! The people who seem the most good and caring! we can't believe it. We think how deceitful they must be to have pulled the wool over our eyes. But they weren't being deceitful to us. They were just being themselves, and part of the reason maybe we love them so much and find them so charasmatic and attractive is that their love and spirituality reflect the intensity of their own needs.

I don't know how it happens- when did they start to get off sexually on the regular old hugs and cuddles that you give a child? (and how do I know I'm not crossing any borders when I hug an cuddle my nephews? could I molest a child???) when did they start to move beyond those regular old hugs? what point did they realize they were doing something wrong? and then at what point did they rationalize to themselves their behavior?

I think some of them truly believed or made themselves think they were sharing love, that the child loved it and love them back. After all it felt like love. It gave them that warm fuzzy feeling. What could have made them take that mental jump? Is there something wrong with the association of love and sex, (certainly less destructive than the association of power and sex, but still problematic), or the definition of love as an emotion divorced from loving behavior, or is it something about them that made them mess up?

Something that made them unable to identify borders, to sense their own borders and respect someone elses, to know where their desires and feelings (and body) ended and someone else's began. Something that made them so desperate, so hungry to be loved that they could steal, grab, and plunder in vain attempt to fill that need. (Instead, now someone's likely to hate them for the rest of their life...)

Experts speak about past history of being abused themselves or feelings of absolute powerlessness. But mostly I want to know: Is there hope for these people? Are they destined to eventually turn into monsters, disgusting creatures of the type mentioned at the top of this post, whom we are not even discussing... or can they turn around and do teshuva and become safe and productive members of their families and communities? what would be involved? where are they to go?

Can they come to us and unburden their horrible secret, or are we going to suddenly be disgusted with them, and turn them out and spit in their face? Must they choose between a life of isolation or secrecy (both in which they will probably do it again...) or can we still accept them if they come to us and say, listen, I've done something awful, or I have an urge to do something awful, and I NEED HELP.... Is their any way we can say, we love you and we support you
(we will also do all we can to STOP you, even turn you in if necessary, both for society's sake AND FOR YOUR OWN...) but we have faith that you can do it...

what would you say if it was your best friend or your brother?

see related discussion here

with god and men: my on/off romance with god

2007-06-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

a year and a half ago, on yom kippur, I found myself surrounded by long-sleeved women on a rooftop in the old city of Jerusalem (I think it was the zilberfarb school). I found myself praying the following prayer, "God, if you are truly there, and are truly a god of compassion and justice, because that is the only god I pray to, please excuse me that I'm planning to ignore you for the next few years. "

Next day, I didn't quite ignore god- I spend the bulk of the day reading לדרוש אלהים, popped into shul to hear the haftarahs (which i missed for being late) played teshuva songs on the guitar, and wrote up my annual review and new year's resolutions. Later on in the day, I popped over to my fling of the day's house. Wxhausted as I was fasting, and busy as he was working on his website, and minimal as our attraction was, he pretty much ignored me. Insulted, I went back to shul for Yonah and Shema Yisrael. But having made the decision to ignore god, I still felt happy and free.

But over the next few months I proceeded to ignore god a just a bit more. Stopped going to shul and took up jogging for example. But I never stopped saying my own prayers when the fancy struck. I remember one prayer. It was Friday afternoon at closing time and a fourteen year old (whose cognitive level seemed more like a seven year old) came in for a pregnancy test with mom and the gantze mishpocha. I thanked god for allowing me to to accompany people during such important times in their lives, and then "please god help me I don't know how to handle this task."

But mostly I did convince myself I was ignoring god in my life. The stormy intellectual arguments that I used to have between myself and myself, or between myself and my then alter ego, nichsfa nafshi sort of died down, until I became calm and blase about the whole subject, right around the time I stopped caring so much about feminist activism (obviously in my subconscious, god was still the patriarch). Stopped being angry at god. Stopped fighting, stopped struggling, to the point that I even considered changing the name of this blog.

And then, And then, and only then, well... god came creeping back. Not with the same intensity. Not with the same belief. But not with the same denial. At the background instead of in the forefront. Quieter. Less certain, less defined. But more peaceful.

And it only took a few months.

important reminder

2007-05-29T05:19:00.000-07:00

"People do change, but not as much or not in the way that you wanted them to"
-cocoajewlatte

Always remember that, ki"s

the ineffable action on the holy day

2007-04-21T19:28:00.000-07:00

This post appeared on seven fat cow:

I didn't even know there was a word for what I've been doing since before I was old enough to remember, and I didn't know that thousands of other girls do the same thing. Certainly, I was ashamed of it. Even today, I don't like to say the word, and even today, I don't associate the word masturbation with the activity of rubbing my genitals. After all these years, it still seems to belong to strange men in trench coats, having no relevance to my life, or to the sensation and the action that for so many years I referred with a mental blank line (____________ .) "Doing myself" "Taking care of my self" are so much friendlier.

At one point I learned, by clandestinely reading my parents taharas hamishpacha book, that there was a parallel activity for men which was completely and absolutely assur, disgusting, and treyf. However, female ___________ was not mentioned in the book. This left me in a deep dilemma, for apparently I was the only female in the world who __________ . Apparently there was no halacha on the matter because certainly NO OTHER woman would ever be caught dead doing something so tamei and shameful... so was it MUTAR or ASSUR? Even if I dared, how could I ask a rabbi- after all how would he know what I was talking about? I couldn't very well explain.

I decided it must be assur. Not that it mattered- after all I couldn't stop myself. I attempted various campaigns of self restraint, to no avail. So in the end I just continued my merry life, keeping my struggle a secret.

Periodically a burst of guilt or conversely, a burst of spiritual inspiration, would motivate me to try yet another time to get rid of this compulsion that I perceived to be a blemish on my spiritual life. It rarely lasted more than a few days. But one time I did it. or Almost.

I wanted to prepare myself for the holiest day of the year. I was planning for a meetup with god and I wanted to be pure and holy for that great occasion. So I planned, and committed myself, and disciplined myself with all the discipline I could muster: to prepare for Kippur by a period of thirty days of abstention.

I DID IT! I DID IT! What a triumph! That year, I was pure and holy as I went to shul, as I chanted shema yisrael on kol nidre night, as I regretted my sins and promised god how great I would be for the upcoming year, and as I prayed for the welfare of my family and the entire Jewish people, and ecstatic as I walked home in the solitude of the fresh night air. I got into bed, and suddenly I couldn't hold out anymore. My hand shot out with a will of its own to its old familiar position, and it only took a few seconds before I just EXPLODED with thirty days of repressed energy.

And I do believe at that moment the angels responded ברוך שם כבוד מלכותו....

A gutte nacht.
A gut yahr.

kol isha confrontation

2007-04-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

Discussion that took place at the Se'udat Shabbat today:

Me: Before the meal we were discussing a very important rule that Tatte has....
You don't serve something if there's not enough for everyone. You don't put out a plate of three cookies when you have seven guest...

Everyone: Expressions of Agreement

Me: In the same we, you don't engage in an activity at the table with the intent to exclude four people.

My father got it right away- zmiros.

My brother was quite supportive: If so, no more singing at the table!

My mother objected of course. "I want to have the hana'ah of hearing zmiros at my table"
But she slipped up. "I work hard to prepare this meal and I deserve that EVERYONE should pitch in and sing...."

Me: EVERYONE? Yay!

Mommy: EVERYONE who is allowed to according to the halacha as I see it!

My sisters, as frum and chenyukki as they are, kept quiet; they didn't support my mom; they can't, because they hurt too.

My brother: Doesn't matter, can't have hanaah at someone else's expense.

My dad agreed but asked my permission for the singing. I refused to give it.

Mommy: You're being selfish.

Fine. Bitches live longer.

My father began singing many times instinctively and then stopped himself; nobody joined in.

going undercover in the mikveh

2007-04-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

Going to the mikveh always gives me scare.

Maybe it comes from the time in Yerushalayim that I was thrown out of three mikvehs.
(Ir Ganim, Kiryat Moshe, and Musrara for the record)

I always feel like a spy, an undercover detective, someone hiding something and who better not get found out or else.

Even now, that the years have past, and I don't look like a cute round faced school girl anymore, and no one ever asks me if I'm married or not.

Anyway last night I went to the mikveh. On my way out I noticed some dental floss. Wow, I haven't flossed my teeth in days, mostly because I can't find my floss in the mess and the conditions that I am living right now, somewhere else every night. So I decided to floss out the remains of my seuda shlishit. I felt very clean after that; so clean and pure that I felt it would be more appropriate for me to dip again.

I was feeling brave; I was feeling confident. I was feeling so confident that I decided I could even pass for a frum lady. "excuse me"I said to the mikveh lady. "I f0rgot to floss my teeth before dipping, is that ok?"

Hmm, I don't know, let me call the Rabbi.

Immediately I panicked, all my confidence melted. "Uh oh, I didn't mean anything, let me get going. I'm not so frum, its not important."

She looked at me very kindly. "Don't worry! It will only take a second! I'll call him right now!"

It could have been worse- I could have complained about something on my underwear, after all. I imagined myself trudging along with her to bring them underwears to some rabbi who would turn out to be my dad's best friend or someone. I covered my face with my hands. "No please, please don't bother, it doesn't matter at all."

I had visions of that woman from10 years ago in Kiryat Moshe screaming at me. But this woman gave me that kind look again. "Look, you were concerned enough to bring it up. So why don't I just call to make you feel better. It will only take a second." So she did, and despite my worst fears, it did only take a second.

The Rabbi paskinned for me to dip again. That was what I was hoping for. But I didn't let on.
"Come on" said the woman. "After all, don't you want to do the mitzva correctly?It will be a big zchus for you. HaShem should answer your prayers."

I asked her to bless me that I wouldn't have to come back next month. I don't expect any action this month but a blessing never hurt. She said "may your prayers be answered," again with that kind smile.

I dipped real fast, so she wouldn't come to her senses and kick my ass out of that mikveh before I knew what hit me. And then I walked home blissfully, feeling like a purified, big fat lying tzadekes.

KiSarita on Gittin

2007-01-17T14:27:00.000-08:00

בימינו דרוש מכל זוג מתגרש לעשות "גט"- מסמך בו הבעל "משחרר" את האשה. משום שפעולה זאת נעשית על ידי הבעל, זה פותח לו פתח לנצל את התהליך לסחוט ופשרות מאשתו, או סתם להתנקם. מקורו של החק אמור להיות המקרא עצמו: והיה אם לא תמצא חן בעיניו כי מצא בה ערות דבר וכתב לה ספר כריתות ונתן בידה ושלחה מביתו. (דברים פרשת כי תצא) בניגוד לזה, יש מקור אחר כי ימכר איש את בתו לאמה לא תצא כצאת העבדים.... ואם שלש אלה לא יעשה לה, ויצא חנם אין כסף (שמות פרשת משפטים) לדעתי יש בזה מודל אחר לגירושין, שם אין שום דרישה למסמך כתוב, אפילו לא דרוש מאמר שחרור בעל פה. ויצאה. זהו. בעיני, זה הדבר ההגיוני ביותר- שאיך אפשר להטיל עליה לחכות למאמר שחרור מאדם שממילא אינו ממלא את חובותיו אליה? הרי החובה עליו, לא עליה. אם היא צריכה לחכות לו לשחרר אותה, אין כל משמעות לחק זה של "ויצאה". לא הגיוני להעניש את זאת שאין עוול בכפיה. (ולמי שיטען שלא מדובר באשה רגילה אלא באמה- הרי כל מטרת הקטע היא שצריך להתיחס לאמה כאל אשה רגילה) דומני שהמקור של ספר הכריתות פשוט עוסק במצב אחר- במצב שהוא בחר לשלח אותה. אז מפני שהוא בחר, יבצע את בחירתו באפן רשמי על ידי כתיבת המסמך. כמובן שלא פשוט לפרש "אם שלש אלה לא יעשה לה" אבל לדעתי אם הוא לא חי ולא מתכוין לחיות אתה, בטוח שהוא לא מקיים את חובותיו איך שנפרש אותם. לדעתי כל בעיית ה"גט" בעידן המודרני נובע מהגישה ההלכתית לעמת המקראית- הגישה ההלכתית אומרת שהחק יוצר את המציאות, כך שזוג שבמציאות אין להם כל קשר שנים עדיין נחשבים לנשואים על שלא עשו את התפשים והניירות הנכונים, אולם החק המקראי עוסק במציאות עצמו. ואין כוונתי בזה להצהיר שהחק המקראי תקף היום (מתנגדת לכל עירוב המקרא או ההלכה בחק!) או שזה מאת השם (אני לא כך מאמינה) אלא אולי להקל על מצפונן של בנות ישראל מסורבות גט, לקום ולהמשיך בחייהן...

Discussion of this post can be found at http://hydepark.hevre.co.il/topic.asp?topic_id=2127900

the oglala, the navajo, and the jews

2007-01-15T19:43:00.000-08:00

Quote from the Oglala Sioux website:
"Despite all the adversity encountered by the Oglala they remain a people of vitality, hopefulness, and with their cultural identity intact."

The Oglala Sioux used to be a hunting people. They sustained themselves by nature.

They now have a democratically elected tribal council, a baccalaureate-conferring college, a casino. Their nature and hunting reserves are now a part of a tourist and cash economy, not a subsistence economy.

I question how a culture can maintain itself under such radical shift of conditions.
For example, how does a religious system emphasizing kinship with the earth play out when sustenance is removed from the earth? When nature becomes a luxury and not the essence of life?

How is it relevant for the Oglala, and how do they maintain their religion in a vibrant sense, as oppose to a sidra of artifacts? Does it inform every aspect of their lives or is it a side thing, like rituals for so many Jews?

How do we as Jews retain our culture as opposed to a sidra of artifacts?

What exactly is our culture? How does it express our inner religion; ie world outlook, moral orientation? (If we have one...)

"We are the children of Changing Woman," say the Navajos. The Navajos also have a very modern structure despite their poverty, and as I saw for myself, they hold modern American dances in their high school gyms. Yet when I met Marlene, a simple uneducated vendor in Canyon De Chelle, her speech was positively, down to earthly, matter of factly kaballistic. Her daughter was in a bording school but her mom was planning a kinaalda (menarche ceremony) for her. But then again, her son was harrassing the poor innocent dog, so much for kinship of all species.

In Lori Arviso Arvold's book, I notice how far removed she is from the culture she so wants to preserve. To her, the healing powers of the traditional healers and seers is ritual, falls into the realm of mind body connection. Does she truly see it as a true interaction between human and the world? It seems like during her pregnancy she does- "I felt like I was out of synch with the forces of motherhood..." and such.

Pirsig in his book quotes some Indian rituals and values that have permeated America: Informality, simplicity, non-hierarchy for some. These are all mainstream.

(Of coure the new agey back to nature movement would like to see themselves as neo tribal, with some- such as th e ones I met in Tennesse, have some justification, that is if they can continue the tribe to further generations. )

Anyway, Vine DeLoria ע"ה finishes off GOD IS RED with something like this "Our ways will beat yours, our values will outlast yours, eventually you'll all come to see that GOD IS RED." The question is, can that be done in an entirely new structure? Or is the structure incidnetal to the content?

Ultimately the question is, how to create something true and meaningful that is new and continuous as well.

ki sarita was a bad girl

2007-01-06T21:13:00.000-08:00

Song I originally posted on chaverah's blog

(to the tune of If I was a rich man/girl)
kisarita was a bad girl(yadadadada da da dad a da)
was mad at parents and teachers and the whole world
because she was a very bad giirrll(end tune)

but then, kisarita became a good girl(
just around high school time when you are supposed to be just a bit bad)
she became very good doing chessed for everyone in the world
because she was a very good girl

(kisarita was scared. scared to make a leap.)

(but, she got kicked out of the school anyway. because,)
kisarita was too good a girl
to smile and agree with the hypocricy of the school
because deep down she was a moral and ethical giirrll....

kisarita is no longer a girlya da da(she's a full grown mature adult woman, neither all good nor all bad is she)
but still doesn't know what she wants in the world
because she cant stop thinging that in terms of either GOOD GIRLor BAD GIRL

the direction of humanity and the world

2006-12-04T22:01:00.000-08:00

this is a post from Jan 2006, which I wrote in response. Yet though it was developed in response, I believe it results in important independent thinking.

נ"נ כל הכבוד מזדהה באפן כללי עם החלק הפסיכולוגי רק חסר לי הצד האסטטי (בלית מלים יותר ברורות להגדיר את זה
כלומר, הערך הנוכחי. אני מנסה לאמץ אפסטמולוגיה אחרת בה התכלית אינה משהו נפרד ומעבר לתהליך עצמו אלא חלק ממנו בהמשכיות, כלומר שילוב בין הערך ה Transcendant, וה immanant. זה בא לידי ביטוי קצת במשל שלך על התמונה, אלא אתה השתמשת באסתתיקה רק כמשל כאשר אצלי זה חלק מהנמשל רק תבינו שאני לא מתכוונת לסתם אסתתיקה חושינית אלא משהו הרבה יותר כולל. ועוד נקודה, יש לי חשש שהפסיכולוגיה ודפוסי חשיבה שלנו אינם אבסולוטים אלא פרי תרבות ותנאים מסוימים.

על מטרות היסוד: אם תאורית האבולוציה נכונה, אז יותר סביר לצפות לשינוי בתודעה. אני מסכימה על ערך שמירה על התודעה במסגרת של המאמץ לשרד ואולי אפילו יותר מההשרדות (השלכה מעשית משאלה זאת: האם על אדם להקריב את חייו עבור ערך רוחני?) הסיבות העיקריות לכך הן (מלבד הערך אסתתי בדבר, שאני חשה אבל לא יכולה להוכיח) -לדעתי ההשרדות אינה בידינו, הכל רק לפי השערה. לעומת התודעה, שהיא כן בידינו.
-לפיתוח הזן דרוש לפעמים תקופות של
Extinction.
שאין בידינו לדעת ולקבע
-יש שסוברים שהתרבות משפיעה על כיוון האבולוציה -ובלי קשר לשיטת האבולוציה, קיימים שינויים בתודעה ללא שינויים גנטיים.
אתאר את זה בנושא הקרוב ללבי- הצדק. יש תאוריה בפסיכולוגיה השלב הראשוני בהתפתחות התודעה הוא תודעת ה"עצמי" השלב השני הוא תודעת הזולת השלב השני אינו מחליף את הראשון אלא בונה על זה. במובן המצומצם מדובר רק באינדבדואל, במובן הרחב זה יכול להתיחס לאנושות כולה ולתולדות האדם. לדעתי חיוב הצדק מובן מאליו מהשלב השני, בלי שום שינוי במציאות (כמובן בהנחה שמקבלים את המושג חיוב): השינוי בתודעה הוא שמעניק הנחייה איך להתנהג, בלי שיחולו שינויים במציאות עצמה. לגבי הנחייה אלהית כדוגמא לשינוי במציאות, אני הייתי מצפה לשינוי בתודעה עקב התגלות אלהית....

אבל אני חייבת לצאת בתוקף נגד המודל המקראי, בגלל שמדובר בנבואות שקר, לכן אסור לי להתיחס אליהם. (שאם ברצוננו לדעת מה הנכון, הרי הצעד הראשון הוא להתרחק מהלא נכון....) אבל לא רק שהוא שקרי, אלא ברובו הוא סותם את הפתיחות והחיפוש, גם לא מתיחס כלל להשרדות כללית, גם לא לשום תכלית עליונה, בקיצור סותר את כל התנאים הבסיסיים הנ"ל. (היות ואלו הן אמונותי אין מקומי בפורום הזה, אבל ממש אין כוונתי לפגוע) אבל אולי לא הבנתי אותך נכון, אולי אתה מציע לאמץ את המודל המקראי ולא את המקרא עצמו- ז"א את המושג של אלהים המדבר דרך נביא, בלי לקבל את תוכן הדברים עצמם? זה כבר משהו אחר, אנא הבהר. אם כן, יש עוד הרבה מודלים שאפשר לאמץ, למשל אלהים המתגלה ליחידים, למה דוקא לאמץ גם את המושג של כלל, וכלל ישראל בפרט?

revenge of the yarmulke

2006-11-12T22:27:00.000-08:00

Just got back from shul, where I bumped a kid whose name I don't even know,
an angry kid, an ois project YESer or something, whom coincintally, I had met totally wasted, a couple of days ago at a club in the middle the night.

He had been ranting, cursing, screaming about Orthofucksagain, and why he doesn't want to wear his yarmulke because he hates what it represents to him- he was talking about the violence in Jerusalem over the gay parade.

(Here was his cash Torah: "That's a Christian interpretation- Sodomy isn't homosexuality- the Jewish interpretation is that the sin of Sdom is cruelty toward the other.")

Well when I saw him today, he had the black velvet kippa on his greasy hairdo shuckling and singing with such fervor, I just gave him a hug hello, and gave him my two cents: "You should wear your yarmulke. And you should be a better Jew than them."
"My yarmulke, even when it's off my head, is still in my pocket" Then, "but I sure got my revenge... I got laid last night... with some dude... and I had my yarmulke on the whole time I was fucking"

Thank you, Jerusalem Charedim! Look what you inspired....
Naturally I gave him my little nurse shpiel. He said, "I know. A condom is like a yarmulke for the dick."
What a cute kid.

our daughters, ourselves.....

2006-10-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

Nidlak into my head a letter from my mother when I was 18, in Israel. I don't remember all the words, but I remember that I hated that letter. I had a curious fascination and repulsion from it at the same time. It's probably in my pack of letters packed a way in my dad's office, along with all the other letters of that year that I'm ashamed of writing myself and won't look at to this day.

Actually it didn't evoke revulsion as much as fury.

(Could you imagine- it was when faxes were neauveau- nowadays I would never even have letters at all!)

The letter went something like this:
"I picture all kinds of scenarios in Eretz Yisrael, all starring Ki Sarita... Ki Sarita here... Ki Sarita there.... Ki Sarita at the front of an overflowing crowd watching a simchas beis hashoeva...."

So there I was, being my mom's alter ego, for the year in Israel she never had, supposedly doing all the things she would have done. But my mom didn't know me, because the thing that evoked the most fury was the idea of me so humiliating myself to be "at the front of the overflowing crowd watching a simchas beis hashoeva" and even worse, the reframing of that type of humiliation as the "star."

Tribal Judaism: can christian jews still be jewish?

2006-10-08T19:18:00.000-07:00

Maybe this example from a tribal people sheds some light:
(lifted from www. fpcn-intercultural.org)

Ranchi - Jharkhand tribal leaders and priests want immediate stripping of reservation facilities of past members of their community who are now converted Christians.The tribal group, known as Sarna, has demanded that the reservation facilities provided to tribal Christians be stopped immediately.
The Kendriya Sarna Samiitee (KSS), one of the prominent organisations, has taken the lead in making the demand.'The tribals who have converted to Christianity should be stripped of the scheduled tribe category status. They should not be given reservation facilities in government jobs and educational institutions,' said Ajay Tirkey, president of KSS.'The Supreme Court ruling says that the converted tribals can enjoy reservation facilities only when they practise the Sarna tradition. Here converted tribals follow the Christian traditions,' Tirkey said.The Sarna Samiti cites the examples of the difference between the converts and original tribals.Supporting the view, Arjun Oraon, another tribal leader, said 'The Christian missionaries convert our people allurement and then force them to follow their culture, tradition, mode of prayer and other things.'He said, 'The tribal Christians should not clubbed with us as it will pose danger to our existence. They are provided all facilities by the missionaries and we cannot compete with them. If this continues then the spirit of reservation will not work in our favour.'The tribals also cited the Supreme Court ruling in case of a tribal girl marrying an upper caste Hindu.'While the child of that woman loses all facilities provided by the government to tribals, the same should be applied in case of converted Christians as well,' they argued.
Note: Ranchi - Jharkhand tribal leaders and priests want immediate stripping of reservation facilities of past members of their community who are now converted Christians.

____________

questions I would like to ask the tribe if I could- how is following christian tradition incompatible
with tribal tradition? What is your opinion regarding syncretism? What is your fear regarding incorportating christians into the community?

Jewish renewal is Not Tribal Judaism

2006-10-08T18:29:00.000-07:00

Tribal Judaism: as encountered at Shechina Rosh HaShana Resort
(not the real name)

Some of the premises of Shekhina religion:

-Earthism.
Nature is sanctified, and we must preserve it. Rising global awareness.
Differs from Judaism in that mainstream Judaism ignores it.
I also think emphasis overplaced- creation emphasized, creator obscured.
Differs from Tribal religion in that sanctity of nature grows out of concern for human comfort and survival, not out of intrinsic value and respect.
Differs especially in that no particular land is addressed. No intrinsic connection between people and land.

-Sprirituality
Differs from mainstream Judaism which is more rationalistic.
Differs from tribal religion in that spirituality is a focus, not a byproduct.
Spirituality should be a byproduct

-Tribalism
Almost completely absent on an overt level, on a covert level, I think almost participant was Jewish by birth. Jewish culture liberally sprinkled on covert level, on overt level such as food, not present.

-God
Immanent God. Obviously different from trad. Judaims. Even Hasidism, I think, developed the immanent god not to replace god but to supplement him….
Feminine God used. To me this says less about gender since it isn’t even talking about the tratditional god but about the immanent god.
No intermediaries.
Don’t know how this relates to tribal religion.

I think it fails to create tribal Judaism because it is too broke off from tradition and because it’s making to much of an effort, and because it denies its tribalism….

Though it’s possible that my alienation results from simple unfamiliarity.

uluru and har habayit

2006-10-08T18:24:00.000-07:00

Uluru and Har HaBayit

(see also The Oglala, the Navajo, and the Jews)

Saw the film Uluru the sacred mountain. There was a heskem between the aborigines regarding Uluru, aka Ayers Rock aka tourist trap. The Australian government ceded it to the aborigines who leased it back to them but the aborigines were supposed to be highly represented in the park management body.

But what does Uluru now mean to the Aborigines? The ritual life as carried out on Uluru was symbolic of dreamtime, of the mythic world, of the pre-life and after life, and was what kept the cycle of life going.

Is this relevant now that the cycle of life has been interrupted? Now that it is not going?
Maybe it does, maybe the cycle of life is still turning though we don't know this stretch.

Or maybe it symbolizes yearning for the lost past.
That is Har HaBayit to us. The lost past when we were independent, when we knew what our identity was, and to some, when god was available to us. And when we go there, we somehow touch it, live it, and be a part of it on some level.

My 50 year old mother pregnant???

2006-09-18T19:26:00.000-07:00

No not really folks, it was only in my dream.
I dreamed that my mother was 42+ weeks, overdue, and refusing intervention, laboring for many hours stalled at 1 cm for many hours in some sort of natural birth center.
I overheard doctors talking about how she was at risk and could die at her age without medical management.
My mother was expecting me to get over there, I wasn't sure whether to stick up for her wishes or support the medical establishment, I just knew I had to be there to help her.

Interpretation:
Me, the fetus waiting to be born, but not able to come out for fear of killing my mother
vs.
Me, the adult grown, good daughter, urgently feeling the need to protect her.

tribal judaism: connection to land and language

2006-09-10T05:41:00.000-07:00

Copy of In-class assingment I wrote, with my thoughts about Judaism added in italics. No, I didn't put the Judaism stuff in my in class assignment.

_______ believe that all languages and therefore clans, ought to be considered divine, as evidenced by the birthing of spirit children by the Divine [mother]____________, and the assignment of each spirit child to a particular tongue and locale. I venture to guess that each tribe views its own land as its connection to the divine and central to its tribal identity, and views its own language as a means of expressing its connection to the divine, beyond the simple meaning of the words. historically, we the jews consider our homeland to be given to us as well, but do not make the inference to other peoples. However, with the dominant secularist belief in randomness, diminished belief in the divine apportioner, the divine connection is being challenged on rational grounds, though still felt viscerally. (For tribal peoples whose divine apportioner is mythical, this is less of an issue). Concurrently, our growing moral awareness in the realm of OTHER peoples, is leading us toward respecting others territorial rights in our traditional homeland and elsewhere, regardless of the sacred ethic. I hope that this would translate into a politics of maintaining territorial separatism while respecting others territorial integrity.

Questions: Is land-based connection to the divine possible in absence of a nature based economy? How so?

Tribals seem to believe in an ordered, harmonious, hoozhoo kind of world. Judaims don't see the world itself as particularly harmonious but posit a harmonious, intentional divinity behind it. I personally challenge both beliefs which leaves me in a pretty random world. Can one maintain a belief in the sacred connection between your tribal identity and your tribal land, absent a belief in special designation?

Liberal Jews deep down, believe its our job to create a harmonious world. Not yet sure how this has a bearing on the subject.

last but not least, why struggle to maintain our Jewish tribal identity? What does it offer US?(I've changed the question from what does it offer the world....) What does it mean? How can it be continuous and change at the same time?

torah and universal ethics

2006-08-30T19:05:00.001-07:00

This is a more up to date post of mine, which touches on a lot of the same issues.

אני אישית מתנגדת למשואה "פרימיטיבי=פחות מוסרי" אין כל קשר בין רמת הפשטנות או המורכבות לרמה המוסרית.לדעתי יש מדד אובייקטיבי לכושר מוסרי, והוא נמצא במידת היכולת להרחיב את ה"אני" לכלול את הזולתהתרבות ה"מערבית" של התקופה האחרונה דוגלת בערך שוויון, בעיקרון להכיר בזולת שהוא כמוני, לדעתי סימן חיובי על התפתחותה המוסרית. לעמת זאת היא בנויה על בסיס קפיטליסתי וגם דוגלת בהערצת האינדבידואל מעל הכל, שתי תופעות שפועלות נגד.לגבי התנ"ך, הרשימה מרשימה של חקים* מצביעה באפן בולט על כשלונו של המחבר, שמפגין "אני" המצומצם לבני עמו ומינו. למרות ששורש העיקרון נמצא בו "ואהבת לרעך כמוך" וכדומה. אבל בתוך ממגבלות אלו של עם ומגדר (שהרי נשים וגרים אינם זוכים
בקרקעות) נדמה לי שהמסגרת הכלכלית של התורה הרבה יותר צודקת משל ימינו, ועונה לצרכי הכלל הרבה יותר משל דורנו.

*הרשימה עליה הגבתי- ירושה, מלחמת עמלק, פרשת סוטה בין היתר

god and torah

2006-08-28T09:54:00.000-07:00

this is a post I wrote around a year ago, N"N's influence is very apparent in it.
My outlook has since undergone some subtle changes, but nothing significant enough to make editorial changes.

דעתי היא שהתורה היא פרי חשיבה אנושית, המוגבלת לדור מסוים, תנאים מסוימים, ומעמד חברתי ושכבה מסוימת, תהא
מהפכנית אשר תהא.
זה שהיא אמורה לשקף את רצון השם, הביא אותנו לשאלה מוזרה, המטרידה לא מעט לציבור המאמינים בימינו, שהיא:
מה עדיף, המוסר האלהי מול המוסר האנושי? כאשר לנביאי התנ"ך, דוקא המוסר האנושי הוא המוסר האלהי הדרוש מאתנו
כל עוד שנשאלת השאלה הזאת, כל עוד שהאמונה באלהים נתפשת כמנוגדת למוסר, הפתיחות לשמע את דבר השם לא יכולה לצמוח. כל עוד שאנשים חושבים שהם צריכים לבחור בין זה לזה, בין הצדק לבין האמונה, חלק יבחרו בצדק (ואני ביניהם), דוקא מתוך שיקולי מצפון ומהשאיפה לעשות טוב, והחלק שבוחרים באמונה על חשבון הצדק פשוט מקלקלים.

האם יעלה על הדעת, שמה שהשם דורש מהנמלה, שתתנהג לפי איזה מנגנון אנושי? לא, הוא ידרוש ממנה להיות נמלה טובה. כמוכן
לא יעלה על הדעת שמאתנו ידרוש התנהגות הסותרת את זהותינו כבני אדם. (נקודת החולשה בשיטה זו, מנין לי שהצדק הוא ההכרחי למהותנו כבני אדם, אולי רק לי הוא הכרחי?)
אבל אני אעיז להציע שמה שנדרש, לשיבת התקשורת הדדית בינינו לבין אלהים (עם יש כזה דבר), הוא: נאמנות ומסירות עד שיא יכלתנו, לעשות משפט ואהבת חסד, במודעות למגבלות הבנתנו.

לא להבין את עמדתי, שהשם כבול לקטנות שכלנו כמו התורה.להפך, גם אני הייתי מצפה שה' אכן יתפקד כמורה, כמדריך, ביחסים דיאלוגיים. לא בפקודות שרירותיות , הלא מובנות, לפי איזה מנגונן (למשל תכנית עליונה) הנסתר מאתנו והלא-קשור אלינו. ולא, שהוא נותן את זה בידינו לפתח בכל כיוון שבוחרים. (למרות שאני לא מכחישה שיתכנו מצבים שתתאים להם אחת מהתייחסויות אלו) אלא כמורה מחנך. שלאט לאט, תוך מאמצים שלנו והדרכה שלו, פוקח לנו את העינים, עוד כמה מטרים ועוד כמה מטרים בדרך אשר נלך בה (אמרתי את דרכנו... לא את דרכו)
תפישתי זו, של הקשר עם אלהים, אינה התפישה של התורה, שם
בדרך כלל, השם הוא שלא מעונין בדיולוג. לא אנחנו.
(ככל שמנסים להאשים את העם, אני לא רואה את זה כך)
אכן יש מספר דוגמאות (יונה, אליהו, אברהם אצל סדום ועוד כמה)
אבל,
ה"דיולוג" בדרך כלל לוקח צורה כזאת: "אמא אני רעבה" "תאח!!! ממרים הייתם מיום דעתי אתכם!!!!" , סגנון הסותם דיולוג אמיתי בגדול.
עד שאני נואשת ומסופקני שבכלל היה או יהיה כל דיולוג.

i'm no longer a religious leader....

2006-04-22T19:22:00.000-07:00

Shavu'a Tov Folks

You know how over the past couple of years I've been complaining on how everyone views me as a religious leader and how I feel stuck in that role and not free to really be me, my own apikorsish feminist self?

(I mean people used to call me with their halachic shylas for god's sake.)

Well today I discovered that this is no longer the case!

Surprisingly I wasn't totally pleased and had to fight the urge to say "my dad is a rabbi, my grandpa is a dayan, I studied for years in Bais Yacov Wannabe High School, Frumout Seminary, and Yeshivat Talmidoth chachamoth feministioth, so what are You trying to tell ME about...."

I had that urge three times yesterday in a conversation with my roommate, Mama R. (and it wasn't a long conversation) She was looking up some halacha in one of those English books. I asked her what she was looking up and she mentioned some shabbos bottle opening thingie she had done and wanted to know it was OK. I told her in my opinion she was in the clear. She said humorously"Thank you very much Rabbi KiSarita." Not funny! I would have been, should have been a Rabbi, and was pretty far down that road in terms of halachic knowledge, but by the time I got brave enough to apply to a non Orthodox Rabbinical school, I had lost interest completely..... Anyway, the book confirmed by psak. She then said "Oh by the way I inquired about the issue you were disagreeing with Baggy Jeans (our other roommate) and you were right."
Nice to be right even though I'm operating in a different system...
We then talked about our respective Pesahhs and she wanted to know how everything went with koshering the kitchen and all (she was away, for fear into getting into halachic arguments with us) and I said, we had one issue, though I personally don't care, I asked my guest and she said she didn't care and would eat here, but I called my mom and she said she would not use those dishes for pesahh again, and I don't know what to do with the dishes now, since we don't need any more hhametz dishes.
"Well, in your position, I would have asked a shyla"
"I did! I asked my Mom!"
"Well.... in her position I would have asked a shyla."

It's my fault of course, for never flashing my halachic knowledge or mine or my Dad's rabbinic credentials.

Funny how certain things become so much a part of your identity, even when you don't want them any more, you still have to restructure your self perception without them...

When I was young I used to hate being the class brain because I didn't make friends easily, only with people who wanted free tutoring or to cheat off my test, but even then I knew that it would be a real patchke to restructure a new identity if that gift suddenly dissappeared.

Perek Bet of the Megillah

2006-03-05T01:30:00.000-08:00

"Oh you are fat, so very very fat...
But I will lose some weight, Sir!"

Anyone ever sing this in kindergarten?

Anyone else ever make or watch a Purim spoof of the famed "Beauty Contest?"

Did anyone ever realize that the women were shuttled away to pimp and preen in preparation for one night of prostitution (sexual services) to the king? And afterwards shut off in a harem, until the kings fancy strikes (for better or for worse)?

How humiliating is that? How shameful?

And how shameful to be turning it into a spoof?

on mothers and daughters (a little poetry might help get past the shyness)

2006-02-20T07:52:00.000-08:00

who is that woman in my kitchencalling me mommyhow dare sherefuse to eat off my disposable plates(for environmental reasons(while wearing jeans?those aren't the mitzvas I taught herwho is she and how did she happendidn't I struggle so hard to be frum face up to the ridicule of my neighborsteachersand stand up to my own motherand didn't I promise godhow my own homewould be one devoted totorahhalachalightand joyso what happened?הזאת בתי?

Yes mommyI'm yoursthough I don't come up to your shoelaces