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Uncategorized February 24, 2015

Chanie, Rivky, Estie, oh my!

If I had to make up a typical Jewish American couple, I’d call them Bryan and Michelle.  Or Julie. Or Lauren/Lori or some such form thereof.  But if I had to think of your typical Orthodox couple, I’d call them Miriam and Moishy.  Or Yaakov and Chanie.

From Mary to Lisa to Michelle and Jennifer, girls’ names in America have gone through their trends. What about Orthodox girls?

When I was a kid going to the Hebrew Academy of Cleveland in the 80’s, there were 20 girls in my class. Three of them were named Estie – which is also my sister’s name.  I have two sisters-in-law named Rivky. Chanies are everywhere.

As far as boys’ names, we seem to have tapped into the trends.  Our son Moshe had a half-dozen boys with some form of the same name, and our son Avromi had about the same number with some form of his name (Avi included).

In the Modern Orthodox community, names are much more creative, such as Shai, Adir, and Tzahalah.  But in the more black-hat world, the same old names are often chosen after grandparents and such.  Yiddish names do seem to be going out of vogue, so grandparents’ names such as Baila, Faiga, and Zissel are becoming less common aside from the Chassidic and yeshivish (black-hat Haredi) communities.  Parents might name their children these Yiddish names to honor loved ones, but, if they feel uncomfortable with them, will add another, more palatable name (sometimes the Hebrew form) and use that as the child’s main name. Some Yiddish names are considered even more old-fashioned and unpleasant than others (not listing them here for obvious reasons, haha) and if a grandparent carried that name, the parents might use a similar name or name with a similar meaning so as not to saddle their child – or themselves – with a social stigma.

Some kids love having common names, and others love having cool and interesting names.  Either way, it seems to me that Orthodox trends in names change and move slower than in America in general.  Then you also have Orthodox names that are cool in America (Ilana) but nerdy in Israel.  Who knew?  There are no studies that I know of, but I’d love to get some informal data here.

After crowdsourcing on Facebook I got some really interesting responses.  Here’s one:

I was named after my mothers grandmother whose name was Hinda Necha. However, my mom couldn’t stomach the Yiddish version and we were living in Israel so I got Ayelet. Years later, I was in kindergarten in America and I hated my Israeli name. I asked my mom why she wouldn’t name me something “normal” like Gitty or Hindi! Growing up it was Esti and Leah and Chaya and Chani. Now it’s Ahuva and Aliza and Ariella and Yael and Meira and Tehila and Adina and Avigail and Leora. Some names that were nerdy in my day are cool now like Shayna and Kayla. Boys names tend to be pretty traditional still with lots of Dovid and Yosef and Aharon and Aryeh and Yaakov. But there’s also your Yonatan and Netanel and Ariel and Azriel.

What were the most common Orthodox names you knew of growing up?  Which decade?  What about now? 

Uncategorized February 16, 2015

Chana’s Question

My friend Rachael Rovner posted the following on Facebook last week about her daughter, Chana:

Chana is asking some pretty amazing questions lately. She is very torn about what religion is right. She asked me why I believe Judaism is right. I told her that my understanding is that all main religions stem from Judaism. She reminded me that “Avraham was the first Jew. He came from a family of idol worshippers. So the first religion was really idol worshippers.”
I was stumped. So I told her I was proud of her for asking such great questions and I hope even if she doesn’t find great answers, that she keeps asking such thoughtful questions.
Any ideas from my more learned friends???



I asked Rachael if it would be OK to use Chana’s question here and she agreed.  So here’s my response to Chana.

Dear Chana,

The first thing I want to say to to you, echoing your mom’s response, is kol hakovod (which means “high five” in Hebrew, kind of) for asking the question.  Judaism is a religion in which we are encouraged to ask questions – and if you find that you, your child, or anyone else is dissuaded from, or made to feel dumb for, asking questions about Judaism, please know that the person who dissuaded or discouraged is doing the wrong thing and stunting growth.  Whether questions come from curiosity, lack of education, rebellion, or any other reason, they should be taken and dealt with with honesty and trust in the process.  (Rebellion is a process too.)  Chana, the most important thing I can actually say about your question is KEEP ASKING QUESTIONS.  And if you don’t like the answers you get, ASK MORE PEOPLE YOUR QUESTION.  Judaism has fabulous answers and its tradition is rich with incredibly deep and interesting conversations regarding every question I’ve ever been asked.

The next thing I want to say about your question is this.  People on your mom’s Facebook feed have offered some really good answers to your actual question, and I like a lot of them, so I’m not going to take on the question itself per se.  What I do want to do is explain about the varying answers you may receive in your life to any question you may ask.

Chana, there will be a lot of times in your life, especially if you are a thinker, when you will look around at your world and wonder why you live the religious life you live.  You may (correctly) conclude that idol-worship seemed a viable option at one point, and perhaps atheism appears like a viable option today.  In fact, you may notice, as you grow up, especially if you are a thinker, that there are a lot of really smart people who don’t believe in God at all, or who believe that other religions are better or smarter than Judaism.  The fact that you were born a Jew may or may not be compelling intellectual evidence – after all, people convert to religions that are not their families’ religions.  

So what’s a girl to do?  Religion or none?  Judaism or something else?  How to know?  How to make sense of it all?

The first thing I’d suggest to any person of any faith, asking your questions, is to deeply investigate the faith in which you are born.  What about it makes sense to you?  What about it is difficult to understand?  Ask the elders and the wise people of your faith to help you understand the parts that are difficult.  Are there ways to practice and stay true to your inborn faith that are maybe slightly different from what you know but still valid?  Are there ways to understand the parts of Judaism that are different from social norms that you can live with?  There are many Jews who find meaning and spirituality in other faiths who have not sought their own faiths deeply enough (I hope, when you’re old enough, you’ll read A Jew in the Lotus to understand this phenomenon more clearly).  In fact, when a non-Jew approaches a Jew and asks to convert, the Jew is supposed to dissuade him or her, and instead encourage him or her to find monotheism and morality outside of being Jewish.

The other thing I want to say is about those who believe and those who don’t believe (whether that choice takes the form of idol-worship or atheism).  Chana, you will always find compelling evidence on both sides of the equation.  Don’t make the elementary mistake of thinking that idol-worshippers were stupid imbeciles.  No, the Talmud indicates that they were bright, spiritual beings who simply succumbed to a grave mistake.  Don’t either make the elementary mistake of thinking that people who don’t believe in God are stupid or simply uninformed.  Quite possibly, they are bright, intelligent, thoughtful human beings trying to make sense of their world just as you are.  I believe that God put evidence down in His world on both sides of the faith debate such that it would be possible for humans to choose to see Him – or not.  That it would be possible to choose meaningfulness and purpose, or randomness and chance.  He gave us the option to choose, and recommended a choice. But God hides in this world.  You will always find smart believers and smart non-believers.  Smart people who accept Jesus and smart people who don’t.  

My point is that while you are a child, I hope you will get answers that simply affirm why Judaism is the “right” religion and explain away the idol-worship issue.  But as you grow you may wonder why it seems more nuanced than that.  And maybe you will come to see that faith is not a simple answer to a simple question. 

Faith is a choice.  It’s a choice between two options which will each seem viable sometimes.  Faith is a choice that has to be worked on, fed, nourished, loved.  Faith is a journey that will have peaks and valleys.  Faith is a child that must grow up.  Faith is a loving parent that will hold you in its embrace, even when you’re angry at it.

So keep asking questions, Chana – so faith has a chance to build its relationship with you as you grow.  I’m sure you’ll do great on the journey.  I can already tell that you will.  

And please consider me as a resource, if you’d like.  

Ruchi

Uncategorized February 3, 2015

Book Review: With An Outstretched Arm

Miriam Yudelson Katz was one of my first and is one of my most loyal readers.  Plus, she lived in Cleveland AND we’ve met In Real Life.  That makes her a VIP around these parts.  So when she asked me to review her mother’s new memoir, I made up my mind to put it at the top of my priority list.

I didn’t need to worry.  From the moment I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down.

Firstly, “knowing” the protagonists’s daughter and some of her life’s story, it was a sad and suspenseful journey to read about the backstory that led up the pivotal events of her life.

For me, it was also a precious insight into worlds I knew nothing about – the Reform community of the South in the 60s.  The Yudelson’s journey toward greater observance and deeper religious connection was fascinating to me.  The way that journey was framed by the Passover seders was a haunting and beautiful literary technique as well as a powerful Jewish message – that the linkage of our faith from one generation to the next is what it’s all about.


The stories of my native Cleveland and of the non-Orthodox Jewish communal life, a community that I was not a part of until my adulthood, was equally interesting for me at my juncture in life.  There were many other treats, like the ladder analogy of personal growth, one that I use regularly in my teaching.

But it was the account of the wrenchingly raw grief that the author chronicles that honestly kept me riveted.  I’ve experienced different types of grief and loss in my life, and the account of how the traditional Jewish shiva plays its part in the necessary psychological stages of this process was so real and so powerful.

This is an unvarnished account of one woman’s journey in her Judaism.  It describes without apology the successes and failures of various communities to meet the needs of a Jewish family seeking community and fulfillment.  Every educator should read this book to see what he or she can learn, but more importantly, every human should read it to deepen his or her understanding of the most basic human needs: for love, for life, for solace, for meaning.  You’ll thank me.

Controversial Observations, Uncategorized January 28, 2015

A Different Kind of Other

never other
as a girl
in the in group
doing fine
happy in my class of 20
opportunities to shine were plenty

Hungarian grandmother to give me esteem
never experienced anything mean
approval, encouragement was mine for keeps
in the loop
in the heart
in the midst
of IT.

Venturing out as a grownup
OTHER as an Orthodox Jewish woman
she of the skirts
she of the crew neck shirts
she of the long sleeves
(in July)
she of the covered hair
no matter what
a shameful other
those with disdain
would rain
on my parade

first time ever
Me? on the outs? Never.

That others would whisper about me
when they thought I couldn’t hear
that others would ascribe subjugation
to the clothes I chose to wear
was new
like an uncomfortable pair of shoes
that pinched and chafed
and made you wonder
why you insisted on buying them.

And now
mother of a Special Needs Kid
another kind of other
one that everyone knows
you have to respect
after all there are laws about things like this
aren’t you enlightened in the 21st century
get with the lingo
you can’t use words like retarded anymore
or you will simply look like an
ignorant
bigoted
prejudiced
freak


Don’t you know to withhold judgment from those who are different from you?
To keep your mouth from whispering your little mean whispers?
Isn’t that called manners?

Why is this
a different kind of other?

Uncategorized January 12, 2015

Nine Things I Wonder About Other Bloggers

This post was inspired by my bloggie friend Nina Badzin, whose post was in turn inspired by Kristen Ploetz.  Here are 9 questions that us writers wonder about other writers.  Here are my answers.

1. Do you share your work with your spouse? Does it matter if it’s been published yet? I rarely show anything to anyone before I write it.  I write spontaneously and usually share instantly. On rare occasions, I’ll ask my husband if he thinks I should blog about something before I do, because his sense of caution is a good balance to my spontaneity.  

2. How much of your family and/or closest “friends in real life first” read your stuff…let alone give you feedback about it? My mother, mother-in-law, one sister, and one sister-in-law (I have a lot more than that) read regularly.  Sometimes I will get feedback – usually not.

3. What do you do with the pieces that continually get rejected–post on your blog? Trash? When do you know it’s time to let it go?  I actually first starting blogging when I started pitching pieces and they were rejected.  I just picked up my toys and started my own sandbox, basically.  I usually pitch pieces to places like Aish.com or Kveller that wouldn’t really work on my blog.  My blog is different from my online publishing pieces.  I don’t know that I can really define that difference.
4. Are there pieces you write for one very specific place that, once rejected, you just let go of, or do you rework into something else?  I’m more of a blogger than a piece-pitcher so… not really.  I have totally let go of pieces when I realized halfway through that they just weren’t working.  For example, I started a piece that I was going to pitch for Kveller about how if we look at the biblical families, they were full of dysfunction which should make us feel better as parents (if we have a little tiny slice of dysfunction ourselves, for instance).  But the piece was coming out all wrong, just throwing our biblical heroes under the bus, and I dropped it.  Which is very hard for me to do.
5. What is your main source of reading-based inspiration (especially you essayists)? Blogs? Magazines? Journals? Anthologies? Book of essays by one writer?  Other blogs or articles.  Also, books I’ve read that I want to share with my readers.  But some of those reviews take much longer to blog about than other pieces, so I procrastinate.  I actually have three books I want to review but no time to review them seriously.  They are: Becoming Frum, The Year of Living Biblically, and With an Outstretched Arm, a memoir by BJ Yudelson.  I probably have to let go of my need to write entire book reports.  This may or may not happen.  
6. What tends to spark ideas more for you: what you see/hear in daily life or what you read?  What I see and hear in daily life.  Conversations on the ground are much more interesting to me than articles, and I know the people behind them so there’s a lot more nuance and context.
7. Who have you read in the past year or two that you feel is completely brilliant but so underappreciated?  Quiet by Susan Cain.  I don’t think it’s actually underappreciated at all, but it is complete and total brilliance.  
8. Without listing anything written by Dani Shapiro, Anne Lamott, Lee Gutkind, or Natalie Goldberg, what craft books are “must haves”?  Since I don’t know any of those people, I am probably woefully underqualified to answer that.
9. Have you ever regretted having something published? Was it because of the content or the actual writing style/syntax? When I read my old posts, which I’m doing in assembling my e-book, I marvel (sarcasm alert) at what I thought was funny, which I now feel is just cringe-worthy in its corniness.  I also have an ongoing tug-of-war with sharing stuff about my kids online in general.  I once shared an accomplishment of one my kids, and after sharing it, the kid totally lost interest in it. I’m not superstitious at all, but it spooked me.
I’d love to hear your reflections on the above, or, if you’re a writer or blogger, copy and paste to create your own responses!
Uncategorized January 5, 2015

The Post-Post

When you write a blog post with a lot of personal revelation, several things happen.

First, you get flooded with incredible feedback.  Texts, emails, Facebook messages, WhatsApps, even – wait for it – phone calls.

Second, you walk around wondering Who Read It and Who Didn’t.  It’s a little weird.  And wondering if people feel weird about how to act toward you or mention it to family members or what. A blog post, once released, becomes an organic entity all its own.


So then you have doubts.  Should I have written all that?  Was it TMI?  Am I compromising my family’s privacy (I consulted with my husband before posting, of course).  Will someone say something weird to them?

But back to feedback.  The feedback itself came in a variety of forms.  Mostly, overwhelmingly, kind.  Messages of love, solidarity, and warmth.  Messages promising to keep us in people’s prayers and hearts.  Messages that reminded me of my core belief in the inherent goodness of mankind.

Also, hope.  Messages from people who have been there, and prevailed.  Despaired, then succeeded. Fell into the dark pit and emerged.  These messages uplifted me.  Especially stories of successful adults with Aspergers (bring ’em on!).

Concern.  Was I OK?  (Yes, thank G-d, I really am – with a lot of help.)

There was also gratitude – from fellow sufferers in this journey called life.  Gratitude for making others feel normal.  For reminding them that no one’s life is all put together.  For making it OK to be real.

And while I really wrote the post for myself – to process, as catharsis, and as part of my healing – it is the last reason that makes me feel vindicated.

Uncategorized December 23, 2014

Shining a Light of Chanukah

Hey readers,

So the bald truth is that I’ve been too busy to blog.  Oy, the honesty!  Nevertheless, I’d never abandon you in your moment of need.

Here are some Chanukah laughs, and here are some ideas (too late for this year, no doubt, but just to kick yourself about how smart you could have been).

I wrote an article for the Jewish Women’s Renaissance Project, the [insert insane hyperbole here] organization that sponsors the women’s trips to Israel I’ve been running since 2009 – and going again in April – woot!  It’s got some grammar glitches cuz I wrote it in a rush (oy, the honesty!) but I think it’s still passable.  It’s something I feel strongly about, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.

The Chanukah story is Judaism’s classic lesson of finding a bit of light amid the darkness.  As the famed Kotzker Rebbe said, “A little bit of light dispels much darkness.”  The iconic tale of the small bit of oil that lasted eight days serves as inspiration for us in the darkest days of winter.
The Jewish people have been the victim of so much darkness of late.  Hate crimes, terror, world denouncement and prejudice have all become the new normal.  How to react, how to cope??  How can little old me deal with all this?  The only way is to resolve to just shine a little bit of light and make a difference in that way…read more by clicking here

.

(Oh, and I’m pretty sure I misattributed that quote.  It was Shneur Zalman of Liadi.)

On another note, by ebook is coming along nicely thanks to my detail-oriented fellow grammar-nerd daughter, whom I’ve hired to edit it.  And my prayer book is, like, 75% written.  We’re progressing, people. Patience.

Happy reading.

Happy Chanukah.

Love,
me