Yesterday we ran out of breakfast cereal, and I debated whether it was worthwhile to buy a whole new box (they only come in extra-large in this family-friendly country) that would or would not be eaten in the next week. I gave in, bought the super-sized box and figured that worse case scenario, the birds will have a corn flakes feast.
Last night Raphaela refused to eat her dinner of breaded chicken and French fries. I explained to her that it was a "mitzvah" [a positive commandment, in Hebrew] before Pessach to finish up all the Chametz in the house, and that God would be quite pleased if she ate her dinner. I added in some ketchup for extra incentive, and she cleaned her plate.
This morning as Raphaela was getting dressed fot Gan, she reminded me that today they would be celebrating the Seder in school, and that I was not to send any snacks that contained Chametz. I told her that it was only a pretend Seder, that the actual holiday (thank God!) didn't start for another ten days. She answered, "I know..." with a presumed "Duh" at the end of that sentence.
Showing posts with label halacha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label halacha. Show all posts
Friday, April 4, 2014
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Pessach Police
"Mommy," Raphaela informed me very seriously yesterday afternoon, "almost everything that you put in my lunch box for school is Chametz."*
"Pita? Chametz! Waffles? Chametz! Croutons? Chametz!"
"When have I given you croutons for lunch?"
"Never mind, Mommy. Fruit Bars? Chametz!"she continued, "even the Cheerios that we eat for breakfast is Chametz."
"This is serious indeed," I answered.
"So Mommy," Raphaela concluded, "you have to remember not to send any of those things in my lunch box during Pessach."
"Good thing you don't have Gan during Pessach," I smiled, "because you would have very little to eat."
=============================================================
Chametz = leavened food, and forbidden for the week of the holiday.
"Pita? Chametz! Waffles? Chametz! Croutons? Chametz!"
"When have I given you croutons for lunch?"
"Never mind, Mommy. Fruit Bars? Chametz!"she continued, "even the Cheerios that we eat for breakfast is Chametz."
"This is serious indeed," I answered.
"So Mommy," Raphaela concluded, "you have to remember not to send any of those things in my lunch box during Pessach."
"Good thing you don't have Gan during Pessach," I smiled, "because you would have very little to eat."
=============================================================
Chametz = leavened food, and forbidden for the week of the holiday.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Free Gital
Doubtless you have read or heard the story making the rounds in the New York Press and throughout the Jewish world: Gital, law student and suffering wife of the great-grandson of Rav Moshe Feinstein*, this man refuses to give his wife a Get, employing the logic of "If she doesn't want me, then no one can have her." If even half of what Gital reports about their brief marriage is true, then indeed, this Ultra-Orthodox couple got married too young and this man is a controlling bastard; unfortunately, their three year old has become collateral damage as well.
She only went to the press to plead her case with the public after it became clear that her community would not extricate her and her baby from a terrible situation.
Gital's feeling of helpless-ness saddens me the most, she states that already after their second "date" she already expressed that she did not want to marry him, and was pushed into the relationship. When she felt miserable and trapped and abused almost immediately after the wedding ceremony, she claims that she could not reach out for help, not even to her own parents, for fear of shaming her family. That this woman was not even given the option of holding off on pregnancy until the marriage had solidified (or not) speaks volumes about the unrealistic and antiquated matchmaking and family practices of the Ultra Orthodox.
I pause, allowing myself to remember the cardinal rule on Star Trek, that of non-interference. Perhaps it is not my place, or that of the press or the public to impose our own sense of morality upon another community. Then I remember that each Captain of the Enterprise eventually violated that line in the sand, stepping in when it seemed not only necessary but vital to the survival of the future.
And so I say, the time has come to officially expose the Ultra Orthodox community in their mistreatment and generalized debasement of the rights of women, and good for Gital for seeking outside help.
I close with two stories from my personal experience in my Chiropractic Clinic:
Many years ago, when I started working in Israel, an "older" IE over thirty woman became my patient. Well educated and gainfully employed, combined with her age, she was categorized as a lost cause within her community, and told that she should marry the first man who looks her way, because she "cannot be too picky." She married a man who has been since banned from my office for bad behavior: boorish, perpetually unemployed, obese and apparently covered in burn scars on half his body, this woman married so far below what she deserved for herself and her life. Several years later, three children later, she works full time as the Principal of an Ultra Orthodox school, and suffers daily. But she is not allowed to complain because she must be grateful than any man was willing to have sex with her.
Yesterday, another patient, an older Arab woman came in for her maintenance care Chiropractic adjustment. In the past year, her daughter, a young woman with two children, died suddenly and mysteriously; because of questions about her death, her burial was delayed and the whole family lived a nightmare. When this woman came in yesterday, I asked about her grandchildren, how they were coping these days with the loss of their mother. "They have a new Mama," she answered. It seems that the husband was forced to remarry rather quickly to a woman he didn't really know and doesn't love, because "someone has to be a mother to those children."
When I suggested that it might have been easier to hire a baby sitter or nanny, my patient responded, "That's how we do things."
* Ironically, Rav Moshe was one of the first Orthodox Rabbis in the 20th century to actively fight for the rights of Jewish women in cases of divorce and Agunah [Hebrew for a woman trapped in a marriage by her husband]
She only went to the press to plead her case with the public after it became clear that her community would not extricate her and her baby from a terrible situation.
Gital's feeling of helpless-ness saddens me the most, she states that already after their second "date" she already expressed that she did not want to marry him, and was pushed into the relationship. When she felt miserable and trapped and abused almost immediately after the wedding ceremony, she claims that she could not reach out for help, not even to her own parents, for fear of shaming her family. That this woman was not even given the option of holding off on pregnancy until the marriage had solidified (or not) speaks volumes about the unrealistic and antiquated matchmaking and family practices of the Ultra Orthodox.
I pause, allowing myself to remember the cardinal rule on Star Trek, that of non-interference. Perhaps it is not my place, or that of the press or the public to impose our own sense of morality upon another community. Then I remember that each Captain of the Enterprise eventually violated that line in the sand, stepping in when it seemed not only necessary but vital to the survival of the future.
And so I say, the time has come to officially expose the Ultra Orthodox community in their mistreatment and generalized debasement of the rights of women, and good for Gital for seeking outside help.
I close with two stories from my personal experience in my Chiropractic Clinic:
Many years ago, when I started working in Israel, an "older" IE over thirty woman became my patient. Well educated and gainfully employed, combined with her age, she was categorized as a lost cause within her community, and told that she should marry the first man who looks her way, because she "cannot be too picky." She married a man who has been since banned from my office for bad behavior: boorish, perpetually unemployed, obese and apparently covered in burn scars on half his body, this woman married so far below what she deserved for herself and her life. Several years later, three children later, she works full time as the Principal of an Ultra Orthodox school, and suffers daily. But she is not allowed to complain because she must be grateful than any man was willing to have sex with her.
Yesterday, another patient, an older Arab woman came in for her maintenance care Chiropractic adjustment. In the past year, her daughter, a young woman with two children, died suddenly and mysteriously; because of questions about her death, her burial was delayed and the whole family lived a nightmare. When this woman came in yesterday, I asked about her grandchildren, how they were coping these days with the loss of their mother. "They have a new Mama," she answered. It seems that the husband was forced to remarry rather quickly to a woman he didn't really know and doesn't love, because "someone has to be a mother to those children."
When I suggested that it might have been easier to hire a baby sitter or nanny, my patient responded, "That's how we do things."
* Ironically, Rav Moshe was one of the first Orthodox Rabbis in the 20th century to actively fight for the rights of Jewish women in cases of divorce and Agunah [Hebrew for a woman trapped in a marriage by her husband]
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Matchmaker Manipulations
A client of mine who works within the health system of the Ultra-Orthodox community told me a sad and alarming statistic, that the number of Ultra-Orthodox children born with physical or mental disabilities has grown exponentially in the last ten years.
She then explained the phenomenon to me: the shame of having an unmarried child only doubles the shame of having given birth to a child with a physical or mental disability in the first place. Thus, the matchmaking process rarely involves the future husband and wife meeting each other in person, until a day or two before the wedding, and then only briefly; the parents and the matchmaker smooth out the issues of dowry etc, paying little attention to actual compatibility. Once the two young people are stuck with each other, they must (by tradition and halacha) consummate the marriage and start making babies as soon as possible. By the time that one of the partners in this union realize that the other may be suffering from a physical or mental disorder, it is too late to get divorced (because that would bring more shame upon the family) and at least one child has already been brought into the world.
And the cycle continues, as each generation ignores common sense, refuses to do genetic testing during pregnancy to determine if there will be serious developmental issues, and continues to grapple with the sticky wicket of getting these children married off before anyone notices a problem.
Flash forward to this week, when a matchmaker called me to suggest a blind date. She kept her details simple, "He is a really sweet guy, very tall and a good friend of the family." Something niggled at the back of my head and I insisted that the matchmaker employ full disclosure. She stammered and paused, and after several sighs, said, "OK, here's the story. He is in his mid-40's and has never been in a serious relationship, not even a girlfriend. There is something off about him, he does not make eye contact when he speaks to other adults, though he always seems to have a lot to say. He is good looking but makes a terrible first impression because he does not know how to dress himself and present himself properly. He has a college degree in engineering but cannot hold onto any steady job, and mostly works in part-time under the table gigs. I am thinking that he suffers from some version of undiagnosed autism, but I am not a medical professional."
Me: And what part of what you just told me disturbs you the most? (Still trying to process...)
Matchmaker: Well, it always bothered me that he couldn't get a decent job.
Me: You know I am a single mother with a toddler right? What makes you think that this person is ready for marriage with an adult, never mind becoming an instant father with all the responsibilities that parenthood entails?
MM: He is my kids favorite Shabbat meal guest!
Me: Don't you think there is a difference between someone who entertains children for a few hours, and a man who must step up, become an equal partner within a relationship, and take care of the emotional, physical and financial needs of a family? A baby sitter can be great with their charge for a few hours, a father falls into a completely different category.
MM: Well, you seem to know what you want.
Me: Yes, I don't want to get married so I can care for two children instead of one. Qualifying that, I don't blame him for being autistic, and I wish him the best, but don't you think that maybe more thought ought to be put into your decisions, and not just the fact that he is a man and I am a woman and we are both unmarried and in our 40's?
MM: Hmmm, you might have something there. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea.
She then explained the phenomenon to me: the shame of having an unmarried child only doubles the shame of having given birth to a child with a physical or mental disability in the first place. Thus, the matchmaking process rarely involves the future husband and wife meeting each other in person, until a day or two before the wedding, and then only briefly; the parents and the matchmaker smooth out the issues of dowry etc, paying little attention to actual compatibility. Once the two young people are stuck with each other, they must (by tradition and halacha) consummate the marriage and start making babies as soon as possible. By the time that one of the partners in this union realize that the other may be suffering from a physical or mental disorder, it is too late to get divorced (because that would bring more shame upon the family) and at least one child has already been brought into the world.
And the cycle continues, as each generation ignores common sense, refuses to do genetic testing during pregnancy to determine if there will be serious developmental issues, and continues to grapple with the sticky wicket of getting these children married off before anyone notices a problem.
Flash forward to this week, when a matchmaker called me to suggest a blind date. She kept her details simple, "He is a really sweet guy, very tall and a good friend of the family." Something niggled at the back of my head and I insisted that the matchmaker employ full disclosure. She stammered and paused, and after several sighs, said, "OK, here's the story. He is in his mid-40's and has never been in a serious relationship, not even a girlfriend. There is something off about him, he does not make eye contact when he speaks to other adults, though he always seems to have a lot to say. He is good looking but makes a terrible first impression because he does not know how to dress himself and present himself properly. He has a college degree in engineering but cannot hold onto any steady job, and mostly works in part-time under the table gigs. I am thinking that he suffers from some version of undiagnosed autism, but I am not a medical professional."
Me: And what part of what you just told me disturbs you the most? (Still trying to process...)
Matchmaker: Well, it always bothered me that he couldn't get a decent job.
Me: You know I am a single mother with a toddler right? What makes you think that this person is ready for marriage with an adult, never mind becoming an instant father with all the responsibilities that parenthood entails?
MM: He is my kids favorite Shabbat meal guest!
Me: Don't you think there is a difference between someone who entertains children for a few hours, and a man who must step up, become an equal partner within a relationship, and take care of the emotional, physical and financial needs of a family? A baby sitter can be great with their charge for a few hours, a father falls into a completely different category.
MM: Well, you seem to know what you want.
Me: Yes, I don't want to get married so I can care for two children instead of one. Qualifying that, I don't blame him for being autistic, and I wish him the best, but don't you think that maybe more thought ought to be put into your decisions, and not just the fact that he is a man and I am a woman and we are both unmarried and in our 40's?
MM: Hmmm, you might have something there. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea.
Monday, March 25, 2013
The Sights and Sounds of Pessach
For all of the Jewish holidays, Israel creates an environment in which all citizens can appreciate each aspect of the preparation and celebration. Secular or religious, 86% of the country will sit with their family at a seder this evening, and only 36% of Israelis plan on having bread items in their house this coming week.
On Pessach it's the boiling of the cutlery on every street corner, with their industrial-sized vats and their special gloves. It's the small street fires for the burning of the chametz, and the prayer that we all whisper each year, "May the zealous keepers of the commandments remember that the garbage bins are made of plastic and should NOT be set on fire."
Then there are the restaurants and cafes that convert themselves into a Kosher for Passover facility, so I can still have my cup of coffee and pastry every morning. The flower vendors work overtime, as well as the garbage men.
It's the people on the street who cheerfully wish passers by a "Happy Holiday," and the cashiers who share stories of their own family's seder, as you stand on line to pay for that one last item you forgot to buy the last three times you went to the supermarket. The market looks like it is undergoing construction, with all non-Pessach items covered up, hibernating until the week ends and our diets return to normal.
The hum of vacuum cleaners follow you wherever you go.
Using the opportunity for spring cleaning as well, there has not been one morning that I have not seen some great item on the wall next to our building, a perfectly good toy or furniture that someone has "donated' to the street, to be adopted by another worthy family. Several days ago, while picking up Raphaela from Gan, I saw a child's bike, complete with training wheels, sitting on the side of the road. I told myself to take it home if it was still there when we left to go home; ten minutes later someone had already swiped it.
Wishing everyone a joyous holiday, and try not to eat too much matza!
On Pessach it's the boiling of the cutlery on every street corner, with their industrial-sized vats and their special gloves. It's the small street fires for the burning of the chametz, and the prayer that we all whisper each year, "May the zealous keepers of the commandments remember that the garbage bins are made of plastic and should NOT be set on fire."
Then there are the restaurants and cafes that convert themselves into a Kosher for Passover facility, so I can still have my cup of coffee and pastry every morning. The flower vendors work overtime, as well as the garbage men.
It's the people on the street who cheerfully wish passers by a "Happy Holiday," and the cashiers who share stories of their own family's seder, as you stand on line to pay for that one last item you forgot to buy the last three times you went to the supermarket. The market looks like it is undergoing construction, with all non-Pessach items covered up, hibernating until the week ends and our diets return to normal.
The hum of vacuum cleaners follow you wherever you go.
Using the opportunity for spring cleaning as well, there has not been one morning that I have not seen some great item on the wall next to our building, a perfectly good toy or furniture that someone has "donated' to the street, to be adopted by another worthy family. Several days ago, while picking up Raphaela from Gan, I saw a child's bike, complete with training wheels, sitting on the side of the road. I told myself to take it home if it was still there when we left to go home; ten minutes later someone had already swiped it.
Wishing everyone a joyous holiday, and try not to eat too much matza!
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Kitniyot Liberation Front
I see my dreams revealed, on Facebook.
A new group this year, The Kitniyot Liberation Front, states that "Specifically on this holiday, when during the time the Temple was standing the pascal sacrifice was eaten together, it's proper to try to reduce what divides different communities."
Hear hear, I have been fighting that particular windmill for years.
The Ultra Orthodox contingent of course blames the movement of the "younger generation" for exhibiting reactionary anti-halachic behaviour.
Why should this night be different than any other night?
A new group this year, The Kitniyot Liberation Front, states that "Specifically on this holiday, when during the time the Temple was standing the pascal sacrifice was eaten together, it's proper to try to reduce what divides different communities."
Hear hear, I have been fighting that particular windmill for years.
The Ultra Orthodox contingent of course blames the movement of the "younger generation" for exhibiting reactionary anti-halachic behaviour.
Why should this night be different than any other night?
Monday, March 4, 2013
Baby Steps
Haaretz reported today that the court ruled in favor of a single woman who in 2009 was fired from her job as a teacher in a national-religious school because she became pregnant through IVF. During the hearings, the school argued that this teacher set a negative example to the students by representing a non-traditional family life, though the halacha and several prominent Israeli Orthodox Rabbis supported her choice.
The courageous legal decision, the first of its kind within Israel, stated that "the right to be a parent...human dignity and freedom" superseded the rights of the religious program.
Bravo! May we continue to see acceptance of all types of families within the mosaic of Israeli society.
The courageous legal decision, the first of its kind within Israel, stated that "the right to be a parent...human dignity and freedom" superseded the rights of the religious program.
Bravo! May we continue to see acceptance of all types of families within the mosaic of Israeli society.
Pessach, Bah Humbug
Quite often in the last few days I have been asked to define my particular dislike of the upcoming holiday of Pessach.
Is it the obsession for Spring Cleaning beyond the halachic guidelines? Not really, I don't get trapped in that phenomenon.
Is it the internal division that I feel the food issues of the holiday create? A bit. There are enough unfortunate elements that divide the Jewish people, and I do believe that we should all be able to sit at one table and eat together on Pessach. Kitniyot [legumes, forbiden to Ashkenazim], Gebrachts [Are you allowed to eat matza balls in your chicken soup? Only G-d seems to know], bah humbug.
A pateint told me yesterday that according to the halacha, I must buy food for our cat Harry that is Kosher for Passover, though it need not be Kosher per se. I have seen this special food, at least double the price and it's like feeding your cat Pringles for the week.
But today I discovered the true reason that this holiday sets me into a tailspin of anxiety and Christmas-like depression: every year I must figure out where Raphaela and I will spend seder, a completely family-centered event in a country where I have no real immediate family members.
For the past several years, we have attended a wonderful seder at neighbors; today they informed me that "it will not work out this year, sorry." I am trying very hard not to take it personally, perhaps they plan on traveling this March to children who live outside Jerusalem, or some other factor that is perfectly reasonable and has nothing to do with me. That insecure part of me immediately started to wonder if it something I did last year at seder that we are not invited this year.
I am starting to even feel physically ill at the thought that Raphaela and I will not have an invitation for seder, and I dread the activity of going through my list of friends and acquaintances, asking/begging to be included and hearing "no" more often than I wish. For part of this day I was even considering calling my travel agent to see if she could arrange decently priced plane tickets for the United States, two weeks before one of the busiest travel seasons of the year.
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is the idea that people would be nice to us out of pity.
There, it's official, I hate Pessach.
Is it the obsession for Spring Cleaning beyond the halachic guidelines? Not really, I don't get trapped in that phenomenon.
Is it the internal division that I feel the food issues of the holiday create? A bit. There are enough unfortunate elements that divide the Jewish people, and I do believe that we should all be able to sit at one table and eat together on Pessach. Kitniyot [legumes, forbiden to Ashkenazim], Gebrachts [Are you allowed to eat matza balls in your chicken soup? Only G-d seems to know], bah humbug.
A pateint told me yesterday that according to the halacha, I must buy food for our cat Harry that is Kosher for Passover, though it need not be Kosher per se. I have seen this special food, at least double the price and it's like feeding your cat Pringles for the week.
But today I discovered the true reason that this holiday sets me into a tailspin of anxiety and Christmas-like depression: every year I must figure out where Raphaela and I will spend seder, a completely family-centered event in a country where I have no real immediate family members.
For the past several years, we have attended a wonderful seder at neighbors; today they informed me that "it will not work out this year, sorry." I am trying very hard not to take it personally, perhaps they plan on traveling this March to children who live outside Jerusalem, or some other factor that is perfectly reasonable and has nothing to do with me. That insecure part of me immediately started to wonder if it something I did last year at seder that we are not invited this year.
I am starting to even feel physically ill at the thought that Raphaela and I will not have an invitation for seder, and I dread the activity of going through my list of friends and acquaintances, asking/begging to be included and hearing "no" more often than I wish. For part of this day I was even considering calling my travel agent to see if she could arrange decently priced plane tickets for the United States, two weeks before one of the busiest travel seasons of the year.
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is the idea that people would be nice to us out of pity.
There, it's official, I hate Pessach.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Israeli Politics
Among the multitude of political parties on the slate for January 2013's Israeli elections, two parties not only have no women on their list, but have no intention of placing women on their list, not even in a symbolic location (120/120). I will not name these two parties, but I will give you a hint: they treat women and anyone else as second and third class citizens, they leech from the government and spit on the modern State of Israel; and they justify their abhorrent behaviour saying that essentially, God likes them better because they are Ultra Orthodox,and therefore they have a divine right to treat other humans like garbage, even their own wives and mothers and sisters and daughters.
Today some enraged Israeli citizens, feminist and otherwise, filed a suit to disqualify these two parties from the general election in January. When asked to explain themselves, Shas and Yahadut Hatorah (oops, I told...) replied that in denying the women of their movement a voice, they are following the Torah! "In the halacha, men have certain roles and women have a different role."
The bulls**t meter is reading high on this one.
Unfortunately, living in Israel has jaded me against the general behaviour of the Ultra Orthodox community, and just this morning, a patient and I - both tolerant and modern Orthodox women -had a conversation on the topic, in which we agreed: the Ultra Orthodox have as much right as anyone else to move into a neighborhood and expect certain services ie take it over and push out anyone not like you. But as a citizen of Israel and the world, be a Mensch; serve in the army, pay taxes on legitimate work instead of the grey market, support the government instead of cursing its existence and throwing stones at Israeli policemen.
These Ultra-Orthodox parties claim racism and bias, that the 'white folk' treat them unfairly. As one of their so-called second class and a Barnard College graduate, I can say with assurance that the reception they receive is equally proportional to their actions.
Today some enraged Israeli citizens, feminist and otherwise, filed a suit to disqualify these two parties from the general election in January. When asked to explain themselves, Shas and Yahadut Hatorah (oops, I told...) replied that in denying the women of their movement a voice, they are following the Torah! "In the halacha, men have certain roles and women have a different role."
The bulls**t meter is reading high on this one.
Unfortunately, living in Israel has jaded me against the general behaviour of the Ultra Orthodox community, and just this morning, a patient and I - both tolerant and modern Orthodox women -had a conversation on the topic, in which we agreed: the Ultra Orthodox have as much right as anyone else to move into a neighborhood and expect certain services ie take it over and push out anyone not like you. But as a citizen of Israel and the world, be a Mensch; serve in the army, pay taxes on legitimate work instead of the grey market, support the government instead of cursing its existence and throwing stones at Israeli policemen.
These Ultra-Orthodox parties claim racism and bias, that the 'white folk' treat them unfairly. As one of their so-called second class and a Barnard College graduate, I can say with assurance that the reception they receive is equally proportional to their actions.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Women, Slaves and Farm Animals
As a teenager at the Orthodox Maimonides High School in Boston, I felt barraged and insulted by the dominant language in Talmudic and other halachic texts, when referring to those who had less responsibility in performing "time based" rituals. Women, slaves and farm animals were usually grouped together, and when it came down to an explanation, I was told that we women had more of a "natural spiritual connection" to G-d - because we got our period each month - and that men needed more structure in order to forge that bond. That in the natural and practical order of things, women had less time because we were meant to fulfill our purpose in the home, transmitting the key values of Judaism to the next generation.
OK, so men say a prayer every morning that essentially translates as "Whew, thank the Lord that I am not a woman." Women are considered unreliable witnesses in a Jewish court and don't count for an Orthodox minyan because we are more emotional. But hey, biology has given us the most important job in the Universe, that of ensuring the physical continuation of civilization, and apparently we get very little credit for the artistry of pregnancy and birth.
For years I pursued the Judeo-feminist agenda, until it became too tiring to swim against the stream.
This year, for the first time in my life, I understand the concept. I took care of Raphaela the entire Yom Kippur, and it was physically exhausting. While fasting, I served meals almost constantly to a three year old whose patience for sitting quietly lasts no more than ten minutes. At ten in the morning, I could not keep my eyes open and begged Raphaela to take a nap with me, thus gaining one hour of rest for both of us, but no more than one hour. When the fast was over, I found myself famished, and literally counting down the seconds on the clock until I could put food in my mouth, fuel in my body.
On Tuesday evening, Raphaela and I joined friends and casually strolled down the empty roads of Jerusalem, an exclusively surreal Israeli field trip that gives a totally new perspective on our neighborhood, and on co-existence. Religious and secular, bike riders and tricycle riders and pedestrians, we all enjoyed the crisp air and the silence of the night of Yom Kippur. I even heard crickets and birds, without the noise of traffic.
Raphaela and I had a repeating conversation throughout the next day:
RR: Where did all the cars go?
Mommy: They are sleeping, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: Can I put on some music?
Mommy: Not today, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: I want to watch Dora and Diego.
Mommy: Dora and Diego are at home, the television doesn't work today. It is Yom Kippur.
RR: Mommy, do you want some of my lunch?
Mommy: I am fasting, that means that I am not eating all day, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: I don't want this Yom Kippur!
Needless to say, I set aside one hour during the day for a Yom Kippur activity, my attempt to pray for the health and success of me and my daughter, while providing entertainment for an easily bored toddler. I opened the pages and chose any passage that could be sung, and together Raphaela and I danced and celebrated the day with song. At certain key phrases of blessing, I instructed Raphaela to say "Amen," (in Hebrew) which she did with gusto and enthusiasm.
At the end of this hour, Raphaela did the most extraordinary thing: in pantomime, she placed an imaginary crown on my head, and fastened a robe of royalty on my chest, because that is what she saw for me.
OK, so men say a prayer every morning that essentially translates as "Whew, thank the Lord that I am not a woman." Women are considered unreliable witnesses in a Jewish court and don't count for an Orthodox minyan because we are more emotional. But hey, biology has given us the most important job in the Universe, that of ensuring the physical continuation of civilization, and apparently we get very little credit for the artistry of pregnancy and birth.
For years I pursued the Judeo-feminist agenda, until it became too tiring to swim against the stream.
This year, for the first time in my life, I understand the concept. I took care of Raphaela the entire Yom Kippur, and it was physically exhausting. While fasting, I served meals almost constantly to a three year old whose patience for sitting quietly lasts no more than ten minutes. At ten in the morning, I could not keep my eyes open and begged Raphaela to take a nap with me, thus gaining one hour of rest for both of us, but no more than one hour. When the fast was over, I found myself famished, and literally counting down the seconds on the clock until I could put food in my mouth, fuel in my body.
On Tuesday evening, Raphaela and I joined friends and casually strolled down the empty roads of Jerusalem, an exclusively surreal Israeli field trip that gives a totally new perspective on our neighborhood, and on co-existence. Religious and secular, bike riders and tricycle riders and pedestrians, we all enjoyed the crisp air and the silence of the night of Yom Kippur. I even heard crickets and birds, without the noise of traffic.
Raphaela and I had a repeating conversation throughout the next day:
RR: Where did all the cars go?
Mommy: They are sleeping, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: Can I put on some music?
Mommy: Not today, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: I want to watch Dora and Diego.
Mommy: Dora and Diego are at home, the television doesn't work today. It is Yom Kippur.
RR: Mommy, do you want some of my lunch?
Mommy: I am fasting, that means that I am not eating all day, it is Yom Kippur.
RR: I don't want this Yom Kippur!
Needless to say, I set aside one hour during the day for a Yom Kippur activity, my attempt to pray for the health and success of me and my daughter, while providing entertainment for an easily bored toddler. I opened the pages and chose any passage that could be sung, and together Raphaela and I danced and celebrated the day with song. At certain key phrases of blessing, I instructed Raphaela to say "Amen," (in Hebrew) which she did with gusto and enthusiasm.
At the end of this hour, Raphaela did the most extraordinary thing: in pantomime, she placed an imaginary crown on my head, and fastened a robe of royalty on my chest, because that is what she saw for me.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
July is Birthday Month
An ex-boyfriend of mine recently got "outed" on facebook, when a picture of him was posted with two other men at the Haifa Gay Pride parade, holding the rainbow flag. I can't say it surprised me, we broke up after several months because he could not connect to me on either an emotional or physical level; I remember that getting him to open up felt like pulling teeth without novacaine.
What did surprise me was my reaction to the news, essentially a non-reaction. I thought, "He's gay, I had some sense of that when we were dating. I wish him well and hope he finds a love and a relationship that brings him joy."
I grew up in an Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community and school system, where we didn't walk on the same side of the street as a Church, where the boys and the girls sat separately on the school bus, and where we considered anything other than a heterosexual traditional family an "abomination" in the eyes of society and Jewish law.
Today I am a (heterosexual) single mother by choice, part of a growing group of non-traditional families within the traditional Jewish community. The Gay and Lesbian community are considered an "alternative lifestyle," and these developments have heralded a whole new lexicon, a different way of thinking.
I will turn 44 this month, and have begun to feel the experience of my years. I can tell you where I was as a high school senior the moment the shuttle exploded in 1986, and where I was when Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut, died. 9/11 has replaced the Kennedy assasination for our generation's collective trauma, though here is Israel we live the threat of terrorism on a more visceral and daily basis.
I can remember when no one had a personal computer, when the internet existed strictly for the military and a select group of academics. I cannot conceive of lacking the immediate access to information and people, and laugh when I think that my iphone is more powerful than all the machines and all the sensors that controlled NASA's Appollo missions.
Like most humans on the planet, I know that Big Brother is real, and that privacy and true civil rights died a bloody violent death.
I have a very hard time going to weddings and being seated near the band, the music has become too loud for me. And I keep my reading glasses in the Chiropractic clinic these days, for the small print on medical reports. Here's hoping that raising a toddler keeps me young at heart.
Just stop me, please, when I start a sentence, "I remember The Great War..."
What did surprise me was my reaction to the news, essentially a non-reaction. I thought, "He's gay, I had some sense of that when we were dating. I wish him well and hope he finds a love and a relationship that brings him joy."
I grew up in an Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community and school system, where we didn't walk on the same side of the street as a Church, where the boys and the girls sat separately on the school bus, and where we considered anything other than a heterosexual traditional family an "abomination" in the eyes of society and Jewish law.
Today I am a (heterosexual) single mother by choice, part of a growing group of non-traditional families within the traditional Jewish community. The Gay and Lesbian community are considered an "alternative lifestyle," and these developments have heralded a whole new lexicon, a different way of thinking.
I will turn 44 this month, and have begun to feel the experience of my years. I can tell you where I was as a high school senior the moment the shuttle exploded in 1986, and where I was when Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut, died. 9/11 has replaced the Kennedy assasination for our generation's collective trauma, though here is Israel we live the threat of terrorism on a more visceral and daily basis.
I can remember when no one had a personal computer, when the internet existed strictly for the military and a select group of academics. I cannot conceive of lacking the immediate access to information and people, and laugh when I think that my iphone is more powerful than all the machines and all the sensors that controlled NASA's Appollo missions.
Like most humans on the planet, I know that Big Brother is real, and that privacy and true civil rights died a bloody violent death.
I have a very hard time going to weddings and being seated near the band, the music has become too loud for me. And I keep my reading glasses in the Chiropractic clinic these days, for the small print on medical reports. Here's hoping that raising a toddler keeps me young at heart.
Just stop me, please, when I start a sentence, "I remember The Great War..."
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Halachic Infertility
The Jewish laws of Ritual Purity state that a woman after her "unclean period" must wait a full week, dip properly in a ritual bath (mikvah) and then has two weeks of free and clear Rabbinically sanctified sex.
That would be nice if all women had a 28-30 day cycle; with girls getting their periods earlier than in the past, at the average age of ten instead of 12 or 13, and with the extension of fertility well into the 40's, that is no longer the case. In fact, I have a very short cycle (23-25 days), and it took many attempts in terms of the timing in order to become pregnant, and stay pregnant with Raphaela.
An article in The Forward today addressed this issue, women who ovulate while still in that week long period of "niddah "(post period impurity) and community Rabbis who would not dare to amend the status quo, even on a case-to-case basis. The article quotes my very excellent and capable GYN here in Jerusalem, Dr. Daniel Rosenak; an Orthodox man himself, he suggests that the standard revert to pre-Talmudic guidelines, thus allowing a woman to go the mikvah before one week, in sync with her individual cycle. Another suggestion involves a woman receiving IUI (presumably with her husband's sperm) at the peak of ovulation and before the mikvah, because it doesn't count as actual sex; though some Orthodox Rabbis worry for the spiritual harm to the potential child's soul, and the halachic issue of "spilling seed." (Because men don't masturbate, ever, right?!)
I commend the Orthodox community for dealing with the issues of fertility in a more direct and public manner, because there is no reason for a woman to suffer quietly or feel shame about her body for no reason.
That would be nice if all women had a 28-30 day cycle; with girls getting their periods earlier than in the past, at the average age of ten instead of 12 or 13, and with the extension of fertility well into the 40's, that is no longer the case. In fact, I have a very short cycle (23-25 days), and it took many attempts in terms of the timing in order to become pregnant, and stay pregnant with Raphaela.
An article in The Forward today addressed this issue, women who ovulate while still in that week long period of "niddah "(post period impurity) and community Rabbis who would not dare to amend the status quo, even on a case-to-case basis. The article quotes my very excellent and capable GYN here in Jerusalem, Dr. Daniel Rosenak; an Orthodox man himself, he suggests that the standard revert to pre-Talmudic guidelines, thus allowing a woman to go the mikvah before one week, in sync with her individual cycle. Another suggestion involves a woman receiving IUI (presumably with her husband's sperm) at the peak of ovulation and before the mikvah, because it doesn't count as actual sex; though some Orthodox Rabbis worry for the spiritual harm to the potential child's soul, and the halachic issue of "spilling seed." (Because men don't masturbate, ever, right?!)
I commend the Orthodox community for dealing with the issues of fertility in a more direct and public manner, because there is no reason for a woman to suffer quietly or feel shame about her body for no reason.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Erev Pessach
Thank goodness I took Raphaela to the mall to buy new shoes at the beginning of the week, because the lines for parking at the mall this morning were insane, reminiscent of the pre-Christmas shopping hysteria.
We passed the mall today on the way to the Jerusalem Bibilical Zoo; after I woke up at four am to finish the kitchen for Pessach, and after Raphaela and I had a make-up swim lesson at eight am at the pool down the street. The zoo will be assiduously avoided next week, when the entire Israeli Chareidi population invades, but it fulfilled its purpose on this Friday, when I knew that I needed to get both of us out of the house and into the sun light. It greatly disturbed me that the one exhibit that features pig-like animals -they are actually biologically very large rodents - were removed for the week so as not to offend the Ultra-Orthodox population.
Hopefully we both manage a nap this afternoon, and then Raphaela can truly enjoy the seder this year, a year older and much more aware of the holiday and its meaning.
The one cleaning activity in which I fully involved Raphaela was the ceremony of the taping of the cabinets and drawers. She has become so adept in the kitchen, and she needed to understand that the usual cutlery and dishes will be off-limits for the next week.
For the seder itself, with our adopted Israeli family, I bought Raphaela a festive and yet appropriately girl-ish dress, a white dress. I plan on photographing Raphaela after her bath, within the first five minutes of her wearing the outfit, as I have no reasonable expectation that the dress will survive the evening.
We passed the mall today on the way to the Jerusalem Bibilical Zoo; after I woke up at four am to finish the kitchen for Pessach, and after Raphaela and I had a make-up swim lesson at eight am at the pool down the street. The zoo will be assiduously avoided next week, when the entire Israeli Chareidi population invades, but it fulfilled its purpose on this Friday, when I knew that I needed to get both of us out of the house and into the sun light. It greatly disturbed me that the one exhibit that features pig-like animals -they are actually biologically very large rodents - were removed for the week so as not to offend the Ultra-Orthodox population.
Hopefully we both manage a nap this afternoon, and then Raphaela can truly enjoy the seder this year, a year older and much more aware of the holiday and its meaning.
The one cleaning activity in which I fully involved Raphaela was the ceremony of the taping of the cabinets and drawers. She has become so adept in the kitchen, and she needed to understand that the usual cutlery and dishes will be off-limits for the next week.
For the seder itself, with our adopted Israeli family, I bought Raphaela a festive and yet appropriately girl-ish dress, a white dress. I plan on photographing Raphaela after her bath, within the first five minutes of her wearing the outfit, as I have no reasonable expectation that the dress will survive the evening.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
IVF and the American Embassy
An article in this weekend's Haaretz reported that the "American embassy and consular officials in Israel are requiring applicants seeking US citizenship for their children to prove parentage in cases where they received fertility treatments." This bureaucratic nightmare has afflicted both single mothers and married women, and the demands of proof of genetic parentage are almost impossible, as in many cases of sperm and egg donation, the donor remains anonymous.
Ellie Lavi, an American-born JSMBC who started the organization "&baby makes two," stated that when she went to acquire citizenship for her twins, experienced the following: "The interviewing officer asked me over a microphone, 'Are these your eggs?'...I was absolutely stunned, humiliated." The Embassy and US State Department claims that their policy and approach has not changed at all over the years, but rather, Israel as one of the leading countries on the planet in fertility technology, accentuates the issue.
Raphaela has American citizenship since the age of five months, and I remember that the experience was at the very least tiring and infuriating; at a certain point they sent me over to a psychologist, so the woman could asses my veracity and reactions, to make sure I was not a crazy women claiming to be a single mother, using someone else's baby. If I would have had to provide proof of my fertility treatments, her application would have been refused, as I signed a legal non-disclosure agreement with Hadassah Hospital and the sperm bank.
I find it disturbing that both secular international government offices and the Israeli Rabbinate are trying to link "true" identity, halachic or otherwise, to genetic material rather than to the woman who carried the child for nine months and will raise him/her for the rest of their lives. With all the cutting edge developments in fertility, the societal aspect of pregnancy and birth is taking several million steps backward.
Ellie Lavi, an American-born JSMBC who started the organization "&baby makes two," stated that when she went to acquire citizenship for her twins, experienced the following: "The interviewing officer asked me over a microphone, 'Are these your eggs?'...I was absolutely stunned, humiliated." The Embassy and US State Department claims that their policy and approach has not changed at all over the years, but rather, Israel as one of the leading countries on the planet in fertility technology, accentuates the issue.
Raphaela has American citizenship since the age of five months, and I remember that the experience was at the very least tiring and infuriating; at a certain point they sent me over to a psychologist, so the woman could asses my veracity and reactions, to make sure I was not a crazy women claiming to be a single mother, using someone else's baby. If I would have had to provide proof of my fertility treatments, her application would have been refused, as I signed a legal non-disclosure agreement with Hadassah Hospital and the sperm bank.
I find it disturbing that both secular international government offices and the Israeli Rabbinate are trying to link "true" identity, halachic or otherwise, to genetic material rather than to the woman who carried the child for nine months and will raise him/her for the rest of their lives. With all the cutting edge developments in fertility, the societal aspect of pregnancy and birth is taking several million steps backward.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
We Share in Sorrow
Here's the story, the nightmare of every parent: the mother (M) came home from work during her lunch hour, to nurse her three month old baby. She put her daughter into the crib, and returned to work, leaving her child in the care of her trusted sitter. When the sitter tried to wake up the baby for the next feeding, she could not. The girl was not breathing.
According to Jerusalem custom, the baby was buried immediately tonight, in the child-size plot overlooking the city. The mother wailed, the father stood stalwart, performing his duties of reciting the Kaddish for his daughter. Friends from work, family, and those of us who know them from the Gan gathered to support them, love them and cry with them. Their two year old son has played with Raphaela every day since last year, making us all extended family.
This stretches my faith to the limits of imagination, and yet, I am inspired by M's piety in the face of such horror and sadness: the sister of the sitter came over to M, and M immediately inquired about the sitter. "How is she doing?" "Make sure she knows that we do not blame her, that she will always be welcome in our home." "Thank G-d she was there, she was sent by G-d as a messenger to endure what I could not as a mother."
It shames me. This afternoon at the pediatrician I broke down in tears, explaining to the doctor (who is also a friend) that I feel poised on the edge of insanity, that I am beyond tired and how badly I neglect myself in favor of work, Raphaela and managing our lives.
Tonight, all I want to do is crawl into bed and hug Raphaela tightly, all night.
May we never know from such sorrow.
May G-d comfort the mourners, especially that two year old boy who just lost his baby sister.
According to Jerusalem custom, the baby was buried immediately tonight, in the child-size plot overlooking the city. The mother wailed, the father stood stalwart, performing his duties of reciting the Kaddish for his daughter. Friends from work, family, and those of us who know them from the Gan gathered to support them, love them and cry with them. Their two year old son has played with Raphaela every day since last year, making us all extended family.
This stretches my faith to the limits of imagination, and yet, I am inspired by M's piety in the face of such horror and sadness: the sister of the sitter came over to M, and M immediately inquired about the sitter. "How is she doing?" "Make sure she knows that we do not blame her, that she will always be welcome in our home." "Thank G-d she was there, she was sent by G-d as a messenger to endure what I could not as a mother."
It shames me. This afternoon at the pediatrician I broke down in tears, explaining to the doctor (who is also a friend) that I feel poised on the edge of insanity, that I am beyond tired and how badly I neglect myself in favor of work, Raphaela and managing our lives.
Tonight, all I want to do is crawl into bed and hug Raphaela tightly, all night.
May we never know from such sorrow.
May G-d comfort the mourners, especially that two year old boy who just lost his baby sister.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Ultra-Orthodox Conspiracies
Consider the evidence, Ladies and Gentlemen:
One, kosher candy corn changed color around Holloween, from the usual orange/yellow/white to purple/pink/white, so that it would not be thought that good Jewish children were eating candy on a non-Jewish holiday.
Two, the incident of the Ultra-Orthodox man who held up the bus to Jerusalem for more than a half hour and got hauled away by the police, because he insisted that a modestly-dressed woman sit in the back of the bus, and she refused. This event represents a continuation of the pattern, which could be seen for example when on Succot, women in the Mea Shearim neighborhood were forbidden to walk on the streeet at the same time as the men during certain parts of the holiday.
Three, the proposal this week by several memebers of the Israeli Cabinet that would give authority over the electrical usage to the Rabbinate, who are concerned that members of their flock are using electricity improperly over the Shabbat. This would allow Orthodox Rabbis to restrict the flow of energy to all Israeli citizens, religious and non-religious, Jewish and non-Jewish, so that they can control their own.
And now the final straw: since Chanukah and Christmas fall out during the same week and a half, the boxes of Chanukah candles do not contain the color green, thus avoiding a potential snafu of Christmas-like colors in a menorah. Meanwhile, in the States, the Star of David is the hottest selling Christmas tree ornament, go figure...
As a side note, anyone from my generation remember when they temporarily stopped making red M and M candies, because they claimed that the specific dye caused cancer?
One, kosher candy corn changed color around Holloween, from the usual orange/yellow/white to purple/pink/white, so that it would not be thought that good Jewish children were eating candy on a non-Jewish holiday.
Two, the incident of the Ultra-Orthodox man who held up the bus to Jerusalem for more than a half hour and got hauled away by the police, because he insisted that a modestly-dressed woman sit in the back of the bus, and she refused. This event represents a continuation of the pattern, which could be seen for example when on Succot, women in the Mea Shearim neighborhood were forbidden to walk on the streeet at the same time as the men during certain parts of the holiday.
Three, the proposal this week by several memebers of the Israeli Cabinet that would give authority over the electrical usage to the Rabbinate, who are concerned that members of their flock are using electricity improperly over the Shabbat. This would allow Orthodox Rabbis to restrict the flow of energy to all Israeli citizens, religious and non-religious, Jewish and non-Jewish, so that they can control their own.
And now the final straw: since Chanukah and Christmas fall out during the same week and a half, the boxes of Chanukah candles do not contain the color green, thus avoiding a potential snafu of Christmas-like colors in a menorah. Meanwhile, in the States, the Star of David is the hottest selling Christmas tree ornament, go figure...
As a side note, anyone from my generation remember when they temporarily stopped making red M and M candies, because they claimed that the specific dye caused cancer?
Friday, November 25, 2011
I am Thankful
I am thankful for last night's delicious Thanksgiving dinner at the Inbal Hotel in Jerusalem, and for Ruthie, who put together a fun group of 30 plus proud and hungry Americans at our table.
I am thankful especially for the turkey, roast beef, Cornish Hen and duck, and the hot Apple Brown Betty. Less impressed with the stuffing (too much pepper) and most of the desserts (parave, looked better than they tasted).
I am thankful to the woman at our table who said the following, when I expressed concern at the amount of food I was inhaling: "You can afford to eat this way, you're so thin!" (G-d bless you!)
I am thankful to my daughter Raphaela, who fell asleep in her stroller at some point in the meal, so I was able to socialize with other adults, as an adult.
I am thankful to my lawyer, who must now handle a second round of negotiations with my amoral criminal former landlord.
I am extremely thankful to the Universe that when Raphaela fell yesterday during a day trip at Gan, and hit her head against sharp rocks, they missed her left eye by the most minute amount.
I am thankful that despite the standard s**t that goes on my life, I feel like I am in a good place.
I am thankful for the next round of holidays, both Jewish and international, and for the Christmas carols already swimming around in my head. But why can't they wait in Israel until closer to Chanukah, before they start pulling out the jelly doughnuts?
I am thankful especially for the turkey, roast beef, Cornish Hen and duck, and the hot Apple Brown Betty. Less impressed with the stuffing (too much pepper) and most of the desserts (parave, looked better than they tasted).
I am thankful to the woman at our table who said the following, when I expressed concern at the amount of food I was inhaling: "You can afford to eat this way, you're so thin!" (G-d bless you!)
I am thankful to my daughter Raphaela, who fell asleep in her stroller at some point in the meal, so I was able to socialize with other adults, as an adult.
I am thankful to my lawyer, who must now handle a second round of negotiations with my amoral criminal former landlord.
I am extremely thankful to the Universe that when Raphaela fell yesterday during a day trip at Gan, and hit her head against sharp rocks, they missed her left eye by the most minute amount.
I am thankful that despite the standard s**t that goes on my life, I feel like I am in a good place.
I am thankful for the next round of holidays, both Jewish and international, and for the Christmas carols already swimming around in my head. But why can't they wait in Israel until closer to Chanukah, before they start pulling out the jelly doughnuts?
Monday, October 31, 2011
KayamaMoms
In the past year, when I had a bit of a crisis regarding my work as a Chiropractor and my desire to leave a more lasting imprint on the planet, I came up with the inspiration that single mothers by choice need to have a centralized resource center. They need a place and an address that can answer questions regarding the technical and beurocratic aspects of the fertility treatments, pregnancy as a woman alone, and the government rights of a single parent in Israel.
I had contacted the American organization, Single Mothers by Choice and they said that they had a representative here in Israel, and I had to pass all my ideas through her; unfortunately, this person was not interested in the vision I presented to her.
Today, I received a flyer via email announcing a new non-profit organization called KayamaMoms, started by someone I know from my neighborhood, named Aviva Harbater. KayamaMoms was founded to provide "tools and support for Jewish women reaching the eve of their fertility," and who are considering becoming a JSMBC. The group targets the religious market, and will be hosting their opening event tomorrow evening in Jerusalem, with a series of lectures entitled, "JSMBC: Halachic, Psychological and Medical Perspectives."
They have amassed quite an impressive set of speakers, including Rabbi Benny Lau, Rabbi Yuval Cherlow and Dr. Miri Godin of Hadassah Hospital, among others.
Many people have forwarded me this flyer, and I am as yet unsure whether I will actually attend. I don't need to hear that my daughter has validity within the Jewish community, two years after her birth. I also don't wish to be "Exhibit A" in a room full of women who may or may not fulfill their own destiny of parenthood.
The end of the page states that women who have already taken the step of SMBC are welcome as well, in order to help them "integrate more easily" into the more conventional religious family environment both in Israel and the United States. I find that statement almost insulting, except that I am sure the sentiment comes from a place of helping, rather than condescention.
I had contacted the American organization, Single Mothers by Choice and they said that they had a representative here in Israel, and I had to pass all my ideas through her; unfortunately, this person was not interested in the vision I presented to her.
Today, I received a flyer via email announcing a new non-profit organization called KayamaMoms, started by someone I know from my neighborhood, named Aviva Harbater. KayamaMoms was founded to provide "tools and support for Jewish women reaching the eve of their fertility," and who are considering becoming a JSMBC. The group targets the religious market, and will be hosting their opening event tomorrow evening in Jerusalem, with a series of lectures entitled, "JSMBC: Halachic, Psychological and Medical Perspectives."
They have amassed quite an impressive set of speakers, including Rabbi Benny Lau, Rabbi Yuval Cherlow and Dr. Miri Godin of Hadassah Hospital, among others.
Many people have forwarded me this flyer, and I am as yet unsure whether I will actually attend. I don't need to hear that my daughter has validity within the Jewish community, two years after her birth. I also don't wish to be "Exhibit A" in a room full of women who may or may not fulfill their own destiny of parenthood.
The end of the page states that women who have already taken the step of SMBC are welcome as well, in order to help them "integrate more easily" into the more conventional religious family environment both in Israel and the United States. I find that statement almost insulting, except that I am sure the sentiment comes from a place of helping, rather than condescention.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Public Apology to my Mother
I was watching an episode of Dr. Phil yesterday, in which he discussed the positive and negative consequences of the Big Brother manifestation and complete lack of privacy in this internet age.
There is also a principle of Pessach cleaning, which states that you make an item usable for this particularly finiky food holiday using the methods it normally requires for the rest of year. Fire with fire etc.
And so I am using this public forum to apologize to the woman who brought me into the world, a person who exemplifies compassion and irreproachable service in her community. I have slandered her good name in this blog, and have shattered my parents' trust, a situation which will never be repaired between us.
Relationships between mothers and daughters are complicated, and in anticipation of the mis-steps that I will make with Raphaela, I also hereby apologize to her, in advance.
There is also a principle of Pessach cleaning, which states that you make an item usable for this particularly finiky food holiday using the methods it normally requires for the rest of year. Fire with fire etc.
And so I am using this public forum to apologize to the woman who brought me into the world, a person who exemplifies compassion and irreproachable service in her community. I have slandered her good name in this blog, and have shattered my parents' trust, a situation which will never be repaired between us.
Relationships between mothers and daughters are complicated, and in anticipation of the mis-steps that I will make with Raphaela, I also hereby apologize to her, in advance.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I am Not Ungrateful
I feel the need to clarify this point: I am most grateful that my mother dropped everything to help me, there was no way I could have lifted Raphaela or gone grocery shopping alone. I have, throughout this week, told my mother how much I appreciate her coming, and the obvious sacrifice (emotional, physical and financial) she has made for me.
I also feel the need to clarify this point: I do not feel guilty in any way that I chose to move to Israel 14 years ago, or that I continue to choose to raise my daughter here.
There is a reason I moved 6,000 miles away from my family, and idealistic Zionism doesn't cover the explanation.
Without going into unnecessary and painful details, for every moment that my mother has been here for me and helping, it has been an endless barrage of criticism, from my posture to the way I dress, to my attitude toward men, to the way I am raising Raphaela and the manner in which I relate to my work as a Chiropractor. My computer is too slow, the water in my apartment is not hot enough, my phone charger isn't doing a good job, and I should have moved out of my apartment before I ever moved in. The newspaper I read is "too left wing." Even when the doctor gave us her expert opinion on Raphaela's walking, my mother continues to go around the house muttering, "Why don't you take her to a physical therapist?" Once she feels she has had her say on one issue, she moves onto the next one, and then observes that I seem to suffer from low self-esteem. Go figure.
My mother's tantrum on Yom HaAtzmaut morning showed me that after experiencing a taste of my life, in which I alone manage myself and Raphaela, she has no deeper understanding or appreciation for its difficulty, and its rewards.
And so I address my faithful blog readers who have implied either directly or indirectly that I am being bitchy, petty and ungrateful: in this circumstance of being incapable of taking care of myself, I am doing the best I can, while trying to respect my mother according to the halacha even when she cuts me down and disrespects me as a person and as a mother. Isn't that the essence of that famous/infamous phrase, "good enough parenting"?
I also feel the need to clarify this point: I do not feel guilty in any way that I chose to move to Israel 14 years ago, or that I continue to choose to raise my daughter here.
There is a reason I moved 6,000 miles away from my family, and idealistic Zionism doesn't cover the explanation.
Without going into unnecessary and painful details, for every moment that my mother has been here for me and helping, it has been an endless barrage of criticism, from my posture to the way I dress, to my attitude toward men, to the way I am raising Raphaela and the manner in which I relate to my work as a Chiropractor. My computer is too slow, the water in my apartment is not hot enough, my phone charger isn't doing a good job, and I should have moved out of my apartment before I ever moved in. The newspaper I read is "too left wing." Even when the doctor gave us her expert opinion on Raphaela's walking, my mother continues to go around the house muttering, "Why don't you take her to a physical therapist?" Once she feels she has had her say on one issue, she moves onto the next one, and then observes that I seem to suffer from low self-esteem. Go figure.
My mother's tantrum on Yom HaAtzmaut morning showed me that after experiencing a taste of my life, in which I alone manage myself and Raphaela, she has no deeper understanding or appreciation for its difficulty, and its rewards.
And so I address my faithful blog readers who have implied either directly or indirectly that I am being bitchy, petty and ungrateful: in this circumstance of being incapable of taking care of myself, I am doing the best I can, while trying to respect my mother according to the halacha even when she cuts me down and disrespects me as a person and as a mother. Isn't that the essence of that famous/infamous phrase, "good enough parenting"?
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