I walk out of my yoga studio, click open the back of my SUV, throw in my Target-purchased yoga mat, climb in, and check my iPhone messages. I scan my Google calendar for any upcoming Starbucks meetings or needed Costco trips. And I realize in a dizzying moment of clarity that I have become a stereotype without even noticing. That all the products I consume and leisure I pursue are, despite my independent nature, a product of my environment.
I lived in Queens, New York for the first seven years of my life and often wonder what life would’ve been like had I stayed there. Following the trajectory of our family and friends in the early 80s, we either would have moved to Monsey, NY or the Five Towns. But circumstances instead brought me to Cleveland and so I grew up here in suburban neighborhoods and found myself becoming a midwesterner. Later on in life circumstances brought me to Israel and at one point, as a mother of three small children, considered staying there. We went apartment shopping and thought about what making aliyah would entail. And I often wonder what life would have been like had I stayed there. Following the trajectory of my peers, I would have gradually become less materialistic and more politically and religiously polarized. My kids would either have become more ultra-Orthodox or joined the army.
How would my environment have shaped what I think, what products I use, what political views I espouse, what types of exercise I do, what foods I eat, what types of jokes I think are funny?
I occupy two worlds: the Orthodox world in which I grew up, and the non-Orthodox Jewish world in which I work. I see both worlds cycling past me like one in a revolving door, and see how each world follows its cultural norms without even realizing its own caricatures. My Orthodox friends have their wigs styled similarly, wear similar clothes to weddings, forward similar memes, and follow similar political views. My non-Orthodox friends color their hair similarly, wear similar clothes to bnei mitzvah (not as many weddings there), forward similar memes, and follow similar political views. All my Orthodox mom friends drive either Honda Oddyseys or Toyota Siennas (they like ‘em black, thanks) and my non-Orthodox mom friends drive big SUVs. My Orthodox friends shop at Costco and my non-Orthodox friends at Whole Foods. My Orthodox friends are still raising young kids; my non-Orthodox friends are writing books.
Yes, I’m generalizing. Yes, I’m stereotyping. Yes, mostly it’s true.
That I cover my hair with a scarf and not the typical wig; that I am neither, strictly speaking, a Republican or a Democrat; that I order most of my groceries online; that I visit Lakewood, New Jersey (the largest Orthodox enclave in the US) regularly but feel equally comfortable in non-Orthodox circles; that I have close, deep friendships from literally every section of the community – are all a product of the colorful environments I occupy. I am both a stereotype and a stereotype-buster. I am an iconic Orthodox woman and an exception. I get to imbibe the norms of both worlds – and this makes me more cognizant than most of the fortunes and foibles of each.
And for this, I am grateful.
Love this line:
I am both a stereotype and a stereotype-buster. I am an iconic Orthodox woman and an exception. I get to imbibe the norms of both worlds – and this makes me more cognizant than most of the fortunes and foibles of each.
Great post!
Thank you 🙂
As a non-0rthodox person their are so many balchuvas they also can relate to to us easily. So I have learned a lot about Hashem and Judaism from them. I had 3 Toyota Siennas and a Highlander. Love everyone all people!!!!
Excuse my spelling errors.
Haha I love you Gail
“If I have to be like you, I fit in. If I get to be like me, I belong.” -Brene Brown
I’ve always loved this quote, as it describes a basic human need that we like to sometimes deny: every person wants to fit in in their environment. No child nor adult wants to be in a group setting where they feel like the odd man out. And as for an eclectic mixed group, that too is a way to ‘fit in’.
Everything you wrote is so true, and stereotypes are true and real for a reason. I live where I live and dress and act how I do not only because it’s expected of me, but because I LIKE to conform. I think conforming to society is so healthy and so conducive to a feeling of community, of unity. Yes, especially in Israel, but even anywhere, conforming to cultural norms creates a setting for social success and acceptance. We impact others around us who want to be impacted by us and we, too, allow ourselves to be influenced by others around us even more so because we can all relate to the lifestyle we are living together. It generates a feeling of camaraderie and understanding.
Thanks for great insights, as always
Sorry, mis-worded the beginning there. Every human has a desire to BELONG. That is the difference in the quote – not just that we want to fit in, but a feeling of actually belonging to something is a basic need we all crave and pursue. I belong to X community, to X group of friends, to my family. I belong because I have a place, a role. It’s deeper than externals, and it’s a real emotional necessity.
Beautifully said.
I too am very comfortable in different environments and I am often surprised when people I like and respect are not interested in going outside their zone. I distinctly remember sending out a mass invitation to an impromptu gathering and having a perfect storm of people from different circles show up to feel extremely uncomfortable with each other. I realized then that there is art to bringing different people together in constructive ways.
I think some people are travelers who enjoy meeting people from other worlds. Other people are farmers who want to build a core community together with others like them. Without the travelers, no new ideas would ever enter the village. But without the farmers, the travelers would have no home.
That is fascinating.
In very different ways, I have found that I like being an “outsider-insider”: living in a foreign country for several years and speaking the language, but not a native; having affiliations outside my work institution to another, similar (but rival) work institution; and with regard to Judaism I somehow feel most comfortable going to a synagogue where I clearly don’t belong (e.g. Chabad). I get a little squirrelly at Reform services, which is how I grew up. I feel more myself when I don’t fit in and people know it. Not sure of the psychology there, maybe a fear of being falsely assumed to be “one of us”, so a preference for being obviously NOT “one of us” in whatever context?
Man. That is fascinating.