When my father died of cancer at the age of 30 (13 years younger than I am right now) my 28-year-old mother was left alone with three small children. My brother was eight, I was six, and my little brother was three.
One clear memory of that time was that of our kitchen clock breaking, and my mother climbing up on a chair to fix it. My small mind was struck with an uncomfortable sense of weirdness: mothers don’t fix clocks. Fathers fix clocks.
I know now that both mothers and fathers can fix clocks thankyouverymuch, but I believe something was hatched in my brain in that moment: I need to be independent so that in case my husband dies, I will never get stuck.
Those who know me will attest that I am a fiercely independent woman, even a bit unusually so among more traditional Orthodox community members. I have always been quite proud of this, but when my friend Rivki Silver wrote this the other day, it got me thinking.
Am I trying to prove a point with all my independence? So many of the examples in Rivki’s article describe me. My husband is solicitously helpful and would love nothing more than to take care of me (don’t worry, I let him plenty). But often I just don’t want to be taken care of. I want to do my thing my way, on my schedule, by myself. Hardly anything scares me (except real life sometimes) and I don’t need to be saved or protected.
Is all this a reaction to losing my father at six? I thought I grew up remarkably well-adjusted for such a significant trauma but there has to be fallout. Maybe my six-year-old inner child is still trying to immunize me from feeling bereft and adrift.
The word “feminist” is a loaded one in my community but I kind of am one. Talent, confidence, brains and wisdom are hallmarks of my gender, and I am a proud and confident woman. But immunization against the feelings I feared is actually impossible and I know that now.
Even if my independence was hatched from pain, I believe it is a part of my journey. I know my confidence makes my husband smile, and I believe my dad is smiling down at me too, cheering me on as I found non-profits and drive hundreds of miles solo. I also know this: I love being an independent woman. And that makes me smile.
Our Jewish history is replete with independent women and you are in wonderful company.
Leaders, Prophets, Judges, Queens.
Women who changed history.
Male dependence is probably not a Jewish concept.
I have a feeling it is one that crept into our society during the Middle Ages and that we have adopted more than we would like to admit.
It has so much to do with personality and the traits with which we were created.
That is neither male nor female.
Yes, there are gender roles in Jewish life.
If a man is not available, a woman makes Kiddush.
And, in turn, if the female is not in the home, the man lights candles.
That is because it’s not about male or female. It’s about the greater picture.
Yes, there are male dominated fields – that is not to say there are not female dominated ones too.
We should not HAVE to be dependent on someone else to ‘fix the clock, cook the dinner, change the tire, pay the bills, serve the coffee, do the laundry etc – fill in the blank.
It can certainly be a choice and/or joint decision.
And singles do it all alone ALL the time.
I believe independence is a responsibility we have to teach our daughters.
And the lack thereof lies at our feet.
Self awareness! The key to success. That’s you! Go Ruchi!
I don’t think you are trying to prove a point by being independent. That is healthy. I would worry about you if you refused help when you needed it or refused to ask for help when you need it. Being independent is wonderful! It is healthy! The line for where a woman is fine on her own and where she needs help varies for each person. There is no need to apologize for where your line is in each case.
Loved.
Lovely! This is such a fascinating post in the context of the blog as a whole. Your reflections over the years on gender in relation to Judaism have been so discussion-provoking. It’s especially interesting to see you accept, sort of, the label “feminist”. In my view, it fits because feminism can take many forms, since it focuses on embracing and respecting women in many different ways.
Also it’s interesting to read the reflection on whether you want to immunize yourself from feeling bereft or helpless. I share that wish and do worry about when kids grow up or partner dies, or I otherwise end up “bereft”.
For a long time I resisted it. It had negative vibes for my community. It is not uncommon to hear strong orthodox women say things like “I’m not a feminist but…” So I decided to just say it!
I never doubted that I was a strong, independent woman, never cringed at the term “feminist”. Yet I remember that some time after my divorce the lightbulb in the living room burned out. I fetched a spare one, climbed on the chair… and realised that I can’t reach the lamp. Clearly I had NEVER had to change lightbulbs in that apartment (my ex was way taller than me).
I went to buy a ladder and changed that lightbulb, but it gave me pause. I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be dependent/independent in a relationship, and how to remain independent without alienating or hurting my partner.