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6.06.2021

Dating is terrible

There, I said it.


Go ahead, call me a complainer. I freely admit it: I am a complainer. I do not force myself to "only see the positive" or "look on the bright side of life" (always or ever, really). When something bothers me, I have a very hard time not vocalizing that. And a lot of things bother me!


Sometimes, you just have to tell it like it is. Today is one of those days. After nearly a year of blogging silence, I came here to say that dating is terrible. Even when it's going great, it's pretty terrible.




Dating is terrible because (in no particular order and this list is by no means exhaustive):

  • Does he like me?  
    • How does he like me?
    • Does he just want to be buddies with me or is he attracted to me?
      (I don't need more buddies. Thank God, I have many friends whom I adore who also seem to like me.)

  • If he's shy, is he:
    • shy, but attracted to me?
      OR
    • shy, but not attracted to me?

  • Is he awkward because he likes me?
    OR
    Is he awkward and doesn't like me, but is too awkward to say so?

  • Am I attracted to him?

  • Why does he pick his nose in public?
    • Is that reason enough to not go on a second date with someone?
    • Is rejecting someone for picking his nose in public being "too picky"? Too shallow?
    • Would any woman who picked her nose in public get a second date, ever?

  • How am I going to navigate my own anxiety around this thing with this other person? Ugh! It's easier just to be alone! I should have left well enough alone and not dipped a toe back into dating. Dating is terrible.

  • Oh, wait, I think he likes me! It's hard to tell, but he does seem to like me.
    • First: Swoon.
    • Next: Do I like him?
    • I should really give him a chance. People don't come along who like me every day, you know!
    • I think I kind of like him. Is that enough?
      • I enjoyed spending time with him at least once.
      • I wouldn't run away if I saw him heading towards me at kiddush. (Back when there was kiddush. Back when I went to shul. In the Before Times.)
      • Could this become something more?
      • Will I grow to like him more over time if the first date was great, the second date was "eh" and the third date wasn't fun at all? No, right? Things are heading in the wrong direction.
    • Do I not like him more because I am being too picky?

  • I like him! He seems to like me, too! YAY! 
    • What if he's incapable of being in a relationship and bails just as things get emotionally interesting?
    • What if he's incapable of being in a relationship and bails before things get emotionally interesting?

  • We spoke on the phone and apparently have nothing in common. Should we go on a first date anyway?

  • We went on a first date and it's really hard to have a conversation with him! No natural "back and forth" happens.
    • He asks me a list of questions, like, "What is your favorite movie?" "What is your favorite book?" "What kind of music do you like?" but I find those questions rather boring, maybe mostly because I don't really keep a list of my favorites handy. I enjoy lots of movies and books and a wide variety of music, but don't have favorites, per se. Despite having asked me all of these questions on our first date, he repeats some of them on our second date. Am I supposed to ask him these things, too, even though I'm not really that interested in his  answers?
    • What I want to know about a person I'm on a date with is:
      • How does he see the world?
      • How does he relate to the people around him?
      • What is important to him in life?
      • What does he think of:
        • kindness?
        • education?
        • poverty?
        • sexism?
        • racism?
        • classism?
        • behavioral economics?
        • grammar?
        • intelligence?
        • children?
So if I am going to ask him questions, they'll be questions that might elicit answers that would shed light on some of those things. I don't really care what his favorite book, movie, or music are. Does that make me a terrible person?
    • Can a person learn to become a better conversationalist in their 30s, 40s, or 50s?
    • Does it matter if the person is a good conversationalist or not?
    • Is most of life about conversations or about stuff like taking out the garbage, washing the floor, doing laundry, making sure we don't run out of toilet paper, and meal planning and prep?

  • I asked him questions about himself, but he hasn't asked me any questions about myself. Is he uninterested in me or just doesn't know to ask questions about the person you're on a date with? How can a person in their 30s, 40s, or 50s not know that?

  • What's a deal-breaker? What isn't?
    • Do I have too many?
    • No, I probably have too few. "Not being able to hold a conversation" and "picks his nose in public" should definitely be deal-breakers.

  • Why does he only want to be in touch on weekends?
    • What's going on in his head/heart/mind from Monday-Friday? I can't know, because he doesn't tell me.
    • Is that he when dates other women?
    • Is that when he freaks out about being in a relationship and plots the gentlest way to end things with me?

  • He's in his 30s and he wants five children but has never taken care of a child in his life. No, not even two hours of babysitting for a niece or nephew. All of his interactions with children have been brief and at the Shabbat meals of friends.
    • Should I illuminate for him how much work children are and how he might want to reconsider his plan to have five children?
    • Or should I let him stay in the dark for now and pretend that I, too, want to birth and raise five children?
    • Is that deceitful?
    • Is no man ever going to want to have children if he realizes how much work they are? Probably, yes. That sounds about right.
    • For the future of the species, should women not let men know how much work children are and how utterly thankless so much of that work is?

  • He isn't sure that he wants children at all. He might be okay with one or two.
    • Do men who feel like they might be okay with one or two children, but would happily live the rest of their lives without children, make good fathers if/when they end up having children?
    • Do I care? What if he's a terrible father but a good spouse? Is that good enough?
    • Can anyone actually know how a person will end up parenting before they have children of their own?

  • Wait, do I still want a child or children? I'm getting old, man, and the idea of going without sleep for years in a row and worrying more, constantly, about other people for the next few decades (or possibly forever) sounds less doable than it did when I was in my 20s. Especially if the person I'm doing it with is even older than I am and has never really thought about whether he wants children or not. And isn't inclined to do the hard work/heavy labor of child rearing.

  • If I mention children too early on, he'll freak out.

  • If I mention monogamy too early on, he'll freak out.

  • If I ask him how things are going too early on, he'll freak out.

  • What would make me freak out?
    • I guess if he said, "I love you" on the 2nd or 3rd date, I might freak out a bit.
    • Short of that...nothing?
    • I mean, if he brought his parents along on a date without discussing it with me first, that would freak me out. And be weird.

  • How weird is too weird, anyway?
    • Say he tells me that he has a foot fetish in our second phone call, when we haven't yet been on a date? Too weird?
      • Maybe a foot fetish itself isn't too weird, but telling someone you have a foot fetish during your second conversation is too weird.
    • What if he commits a few social faux pas? Adorable and endearing or, good Lord, no, too much?
    • What if he likes to go on and on about things that don't interest you at all and never checks in to see if it's interesting for you?
    • Oh, God, what if I do that?

  • Why aren't men who know that they aren't relationship-ready doing the things that would make them relationship-ready? Therapy, support groups, talking to friends about dating and emotional intimacy?

  • God, I really wish all men who were dating women made sure that they had friends--male, female, non-binary--to talk to about dating and relationships. Men, please try to develop these relationships if you don't already have them. Parents of sons, please try to encourage your sons to develop these kinds of relationships with their peers, mentors, whomever. (They can talk to you about dating, too, but they should also have other people to talk to about these things!) Thank you, on behalf of women everywhere!

  • Hello. I'm thinking about him. Is he thinking about me? Or has he not given my existence the merest hint of thought or attention since we last spoke on the phone or saw each other?



It's been 20+ years of this! 20+ years, man! That's a long time to be dealing with this stuff. For at least 15 of those years, I'd have much rather been dealing with navigating partnered life, childbirth and rearing, and the rest of life. Not this merry-go-round of dating.


I mean, I do get off the merry-go-round for a bit, each time a relationship or attempt-at-a-relationship crumbles into dust. I take a break. I focus on other things. Anything but dating! Seeing friends. Doing fun-for-me things alone in New York City. Reveling, just a little, in not having to truly consider anyone else's deepest, most vulnerable feelings for days--sometimes weeks!--in a row.


So it hasn't been 20 years of doing this nonstop.


But, also, if we're being honest, it started more than 20 years ago, with the first male-friend-with-whom-I-fell-in-love back in...whenever that was. (This never worked out for me. Ever. Male friends on whom I had crushes never wanted to be more than friends with me. Men get all bitter when this happens and call it being "friend-zoned" and claim that no women want to date them, ever. I don't find that to be the case. Just that men with whom I am friends first don't end up wanting to date me. Men whom I first meet/get to know in a dating context sometimes want to date me.)




The only thing that makes me keep going back to it (between breaks to forget about the whole enterprise) is the slimmest, slightest possibility that I'll find someone:

  • Whom I definitely like.

  • Who likes me. That is, his innards liquefy when he sees or thinks about me, just as mine liquefy when I see or think about him.

  • Who is weird in all the right kinds of ways!
    • Whose slip-ups are humanizing and endearing, not cringe-worthy.
    • Whose slight awkwardness makes me feel more comfortable with my own slight awkwardness, not like I want to sink into the ground on the spot.

  • Whom is fun to get to know. Plumbing the depths of his mind and soul is so...nice! We feel so compatible. Seeing him is 95% pleasant and only 5% stressful anxiety wondering about how he feels about me, which is a pretty good ratio! (If there wasn't that 5% frisson of anxiety, I probably don't like him enough to keep seeing him.)

  • Who is either currently capable of being in a committed, monogamous relationship of some kind
    OR
    Who is not, but is willing to, starting today, put in the work of becoming capable of such.



And then, after that continues to go well for some time, I could potentially end up with:

  • A life partner.

  • A person who has my back.

  • A person who is in my corner.

  • Insert further relevant metaphors here.

  • A person I can talk to regularly about my day-to-day life. (He doesn't think I talk too much.)

  • A person who is interested in what's going on with me, emotionally, intellectually, relationally, professionally, socially, etc.

  • A person who will talk to me about their day-to-day life.

  • A person whose experience I am interested in. I want to know what's going on with him emotionally, intellectually, relationally, professionally, socially, etc. I don't think he talks too much (most of the time).

  • A thoroughly kind person who would never intentionally hurt me and who, after unintentionally hurting me, is interested in discussion, repair, mitigation.

  • Someone who thinks being kind is more important than being smart.

  • Someone who wants to be the change that they hope to see in the world.

  • Someone to be with in companionable silence.

  • Someone who doesn't think I'm too much.

  • Someone whom I don't think is too much.

  • Someone who disagrees with me respectfully.

  • Someone with whom I disagree respectfully.

  • Someone whom I love even when life is hard.

  • Someone who loves me even when life is hard.



Sometimes, I think that maybe my issue is not that I am "too picky," but that I just want too much. I want more than any person can be for or to me. Is that the issue with me and dating?


Or am I just too anxious to be able to handle dating? I don't know. Maybe. I obviously know that I'm anxious, but I mostly think that I worry the right amount about things, like never being partnered and winding up sick and alone when I'm 71. As bad as being single at 21, 31, and 41 were/are, I think being single at 71 would be worse. (Maybe I'm wrong about that. I don't think being 71 itself would be worse, just the being-single part of it.)



 

Or maybe that person is out there, but he doesn't happen to be Jewish. How much of my Jewish life or practice would I be willing to jettison in exchange for those things that I have wanted, so badly, for over two decades? I think about this not-infrequently. 


Two things that have kept me from doing this are:

  • What if I jettisoned a lot of my Jewish practice and still ended up alone? That's a lose-lose scenario to me.
  • What if I jettisoned a lot of my Jewish practice and ended up paired, but deeply regret jettisoning my Jewish practice? That's something that's difficult to backtrack from, I imagine, once one is paired.


Don't get me wrong--over the years, since I was 20 or so, I have ever-so-slowly slip-slided away from the strictly Orthodox practices of my youth.

עָוִיתִי, פָּשַעְתִּי, and חָטָאתִי are definitely words that apply to my life.


I was a very frum 18-year-old and then, just like they promised me in yeshiva, I went to secular college and, due to a number of factors, gradually became less frum.

 

I have made various attempts to shore up some of my Jewish practices in the years since. I sometimes miss the person I was at 18. So earnest! So non-hypocritical! So straight-and-narrow! Others, I have simply let fall away. Sometimes, I am briefly so frum (as in, I daven mincha on a weekday--at this point, it's been years, I think) and I deeply, in my kishkas, miss being so frum all the time.


But, also, despite the glacially slow slip-sliding that I have done since I was 20 or so, I still live a very, very Jewish life. And I dream of living that very Jewish life with someone else who also wants to live a very Jewish life, even if he is fuzzy on some of the details or doesn't fully practice observant, halakhic Jewish tradition.


Despite over two decades of slip-sliding, I still pretty much do, and don't do, the same things as when I was 20-ish. (I can't think of slip-sliding without thinking of שׁ֚וּבוּ בָּנִ֣ים שׁוֹבָבִ֔ים אֶרְפָּ֖ה מְשׁוּבֹתֵיכֶ֑ם. That's how Jewish I still am.) I do go to shul less often these days; that's true.


That slip-sliding never became a wholesale jettisoning, as would likely be required to be in a serious relationship with someone who wasn't Jewish and also not interested in personally engaging in Jewish practice. (I think that some people who aren't Jewish are interested in personally engaging in Jewish practice, and if I found a person like that, less wholesale jettisoning might be necessary.)


Part of what angers me about the conversation around intermarriage is that not enough Jewish men (and some women) consider that, for many Jewish women, the choices are, quite literally, lifelong singlehood or intermarriage. There simply aren't enough Jewish men out there who want to be in relationships and are willing to do the self-work necessary to be in relationships, for all of the Jewish women who want to be in relationships and are willing to do the self-work necessary to be in relationships.


(This is true for a number of demographic and sociological reasons, including:

  • more Jewish men who, especially in their 20s and 30s, partner with non-Jewish women than women who do the same;
  • more Jewish By Choice women than men;
  • more men than women have Autism Spectrum Disorder and other neurological differences that make it hard for neurotypical women to become their partners; 
  • more men than women who, for whatever reason(s), don't decide to get serious about seeking a life partner until they're in their 50s and are then only willing to date women who are 37 or younger because they want to have biological children with someone who will be their biological children's biological mother;
  • and other things I'm not thinking of now.


But it's true. I'm sure of it and have been for over a decade. It's not because women are "too focused on their careers" or "uninterested in marriage." I promise you, it's not.)


Would you truly tell all of the never-married Jewish women in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and beyond that they must stay single forever rather than date and possibly marry non-Jewish men? That seems cruel.




"But, Abacaxi Mamao, what can I do about this?" 

 

I hear you all the way from here. First of all, thank you for caring!


Second of all, here are some things that you can do. If not for me, then for future generations of single Jewish women.

  1. You can ask your single Jewish female friends if they want to be set up and with whom. Then, for those (and only those) who express interest in being set up, you can set up your single Jewish female friends with single Jewish men or, for Jewish women who are open to this, with non-Jewish men who are interested in living vibrant Jewish lives. (They don't need to, in your opinion, be perfectly aligned with one another to be set up. The perfect is the enemy of the good here. But if you're setting people up totally randomly, at least let them know that so they know what they're walking into: "You're both greying, so I thought I'd set you up." "You're both smart, so I thought I'd set you up." "You both live in [same large city], so I thought I'd set you up.")

  2. You can foster close relationships with the single Jewish men who are already in your life, such that they have someone to talk to about dating and relationships, thus helping pull them back from the brink of panic when they get close to a woman in a dating relationship.
    • "Wait, so I should try to be their therapist?"
    • No. Please don't try to therapize your friends. What your male friends need is your friendship. You should be their friend!
    • Also, encourage everyone you know who seems interested in deep, abiding change in their life to get regular counseling or therapy with a qualified therapist. (Not a life coach. A therapist.)

  3. Are you a parent of a son or sons? By living a rich, vibrant, communal, and connected Jewish life yourself, you can raise Jewish boys to become men who will want to be in relationships with Jewish women. Will it work 100% of the time? No. It won't. (Daughters also benefit from this!)

  4. Are you a parent of a son or sons? By talking with him/them about their inner life and feelings, you will help them become a person who can do so outside of your own family, with friends and partners alike. And this can only be good for humanity. By modeling empathy, validation, and connection with them, you help them grow up to be empathic, validating of, and connected with others. (Daughters also benefit from this!)

  5. Are you a parent of a son or sons? Do they struggle to identify their feelings? That's okay. It can be hard to identify feelings, but it's a skill that can be practiced and learned. Adults can learn to do it. Children can learn to do it. (Therapy helps.) Some people who have trouble discussing their feelings have an easier time writing about their feelings, acting out their feelings in play, or exploring their feelings through other modalities (art, music, sports). The important thing, I think, is to get in the habit of identifying and exploring one's feelings. That's a prerequisite for ever being able to communicate them with someone else. (Daughters also benefit from this. But girls are socialized to identify and verbalize their feelings more than boys are.)

  6. Are you a parent of a son or sons? Are they struggling socially or interpersonally? Teach them and model for them that therapy is a wonderful thing and encourage them to engage in it. If the first therapist is a bad fit, seek one who is a better fit. (Daughters also benefit from this!)

Thank you for reading my brain dump on dating today.

And good luck to us all!

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8.06.2019

An urban metaphor for...something?

Scene: Trader Joe’s in Manhattan, 12:00 pm today.

A man with a basket of groceries dodges and weaves through the line to beat all of the women with carts and children who are making their way to the front more slowly.

He isn’t exactly cutting, since the laden women aren’t precisely in line yet, but he isn’t exactly not cutting, since it is clear that the entire mass of people is heading towards the two lines and splitting up into them. The net result is that this guy (white guy in his 30s?) ends up ahead of people carrying or pushing bigger burdens. It pisses me off, but not enough to say anything. I end up right behind him in the left-hand line, with my (laden) cart. (Laden because I have selected a basket’s worth of groceries at TJ’s, but have the cart to hold two bags of groceries from Fairway purchased earlier and also a backpack, with provisions for the day from my morning run to camp drop-off in downtown Brooklyn. This guy has himself and a basket, so he easily sprinted ahead of me into the line.)

Then, the person who directs people to cashiers from the two lines accidentally sends three people in a row from the left line to the cashiers, so left, left, left, instead of the usual left, right, left. This has the net result of making the dude later to check out by one person. He misses ONE turn. (It’s true. She made a tiny mistake of almost no consequence to anyone present. At most, it sped the left line up by one person and slowed the right line down by one person. This happens on occasion. I usually get annoyed for a second or two and then remember that all people are humans who make mistakes and that any customer-facing job has got to be really hard and that this one, in particular, must be so boring, and so I am just grateful that anyone is doing this at all! Because the line definitely moves quicker with that person directing people!)

He angrily says to the Trader Joe’s employee, “Hey, you just sent three people from that line to check out and no one from this line!”

She ignores him, continuing to scan the checkout people for someone who is free to take a customer.

“Hey, I’m talking to you! You can at least acknowledge me when I’m talking to you.”

She continues to ignore him.

I have had enough. I say, “Lay off it, would you? No one is perfect, everyone makes mistakes, and I’m sure you’ll survive the wait.”

I make eye contact with a man in the left-hand line and say, “I think he’ll survive this, don’t you?” The man nods and agrees and rolls his eyes at the guy yelling at the Trader Joe’s employee.

He says to me, “She has to at least acknowledge that I’m talking to her!”

“No, she doesn’t,” I counter. “Not when you’re being aggressive for no reason at all.”

He sputters and stares at me for a few moments and then she directs him to the next check-out person.

I don't know if I gave him something to think about, but at least I got him to shut up. Yay?

I am directed to the next checkout person. As I walk by her, I tell the Trader Joe's employee, “You’re doing a wonderful job and he is a jerk.”

I’m mildly afraid that the guy will follow me or act aggressively towards me, but I never see him again (so far).

I am glad that my line was slowed down by one person, if only to stick it to the jerk who dodged and weaved through the mass of shoppers heading to the lines to beat everyone who had more to manage.

I think there might be a metaphor here for toxic masculinity, male aggression, unnecessary aggression in modern society, who bears the burdens in society, people (men?) who feel cheated out of something even though they are the cheaters, or the Nine Days, but I don’t know what it is!

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2.24.2019

Why I cried at the (Summer 2009) Kolech conference

Draft written and saved in July 2009. Re-discovered in February 2019. Published after some light editing.



I cried (at least) three times at the Kolech conference today [July 2009] and I don't think I've cried at a JOFA conference since the first one in 1997, when I realized, at the tender age of 17, that I wasn't all alone in the world!

I don't know if that's because things are so much worse here in Israel, or so much better, or if it's just because I was overwhelmed with gratitude for all the women (and the very few men) who are doing so many amazing things.

What made me cry?
  1. I went to a session on "גופנפש" (one word--"bodysoul"? I dunno) and a woman who runs a women's only dance studio told the story of a woman who had wanted to dance since she was a little girl, but the men in her life (father, teachers, etc.) always told her that it was not tzanua and she couldn't. So she never did.

    Finally, later in life (when she was already "אישה מבוגרת," I won't hazard a guess as to how old that is), she decided to dance. Specifically, flamenco. And she participated in a performance that men could come to (at the studio's annual recital, men are invited to the first half but not the second half, and women can choose before whom they perform--some want their husbands, sons, etc. to be there and don't care if others' husbands, sons, etc. are there, too). And she danced. And it was great.

    The point was, she wanted her husband to be there and see her, and he was, and was supportive.

    And I cried out of happiness that she got to do that, finally, and anger that she couldn't for all those years. (Uh, this should be a blog post.)

    And then she told another story, about a Chabad rebbetzin who had also wanted to dance, but never could (not tzanua, etc.), and when she was a bit older, and had eight children, she also studied flamenco. And she decided to share it with her female relatives at their annual family thing where the guys and gals shared stuff--songs, jokes, divrei torah, whatever--in separate rooms. And she danced, and her husband came in to watch. And he started laughing at her. And soon the whole room was laughing at her. And she kept dancing until she was done with what she had started. And she still studies.

    And I cried out of anger for all the women whose men/families laugh at them when they express themselves fully. Fuck that.

    Then I was crying because of the things that people told me that I could not or should not do that I've therefore not done for years and year and years, or done and then felt bad about. Like dancing and singing. (I was told to stop coming to pre-ballet when I was five because I couldn't hop around the room and my family has always reinforced their strongly-held belief that I should never, ever, ever sing because I can't carry a tune, even though I love to sing.) And then I started thinking about all the things that I have done because people said I could or should. And I've been working, for awhile, on doing what I want to do, but it's sometimes hard to figure out, when what others want/do not want you to do feels so ingrained that it has become a part of you.

    That was all the first episode of crying.

  2. There were some stunning, Three-Weeks-appropriate performances in the evening that also made me cry. And for some reason, a woman who had always wanted to be a professional singer but decided that it would take her away from her family too much, so instead became a music teacher, also made me cry when she said that in the dati (Israeli) schools, they don't let female music teachers sing in front of 5th and 6th grade boys (who should be ages 9-12) because of kol isha. That made me cry. Then she performed these absolutely stunning piyutim and I'd never heard a woman sing (Morrocan) piyutim before--I always associate traditional liturgical singing, be it ashkenazi or sephardi, with men--and it was so stunning, coming from this plain-looking, 50-something Israeli kibbutz woman in her pants-skirt and old lady sandals, that I cried again.

    There was also a stunning (Orthodox) chazanit who made me cry, and a theatrical performance that was heart-stopping.

  3. And then they announced that arvit (maariv) would be after the conference, and I went to the shul to daven, and there was me and another young woman (younger than I) and a 50-something year old man, and he was like, "There are no women here and there were very few women at mincha, too!" in a very accusatory tone, and I wanted to shout, "You tell them that they can't sing or dance and you wonder why they don't run to daven mincha?! For shame!" but I didn't. And then he wandered off and six other women showed up and the eight of us davened together and then I really cried and couldn't stop. (It was actually kind of horrible.)
Basically, a lot of pain and a lot of beauty. I cannot imagine raising a daughter in this world even though not doing so might mean missing out on some of the beauty.

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2.22.2019

"Are You a Rabbi's Daughter?" and Halakhic Authority (or Lack Thereof)

Draft written 11/30/2011 about an event that took place earlier that month.

Rediscovered in 2019. I still remember this incident well! I think I saved it as a draft in 2011 instead of publishing it because it seemed terribly disorganized after I drafted it. It's not really any better now, but I think I'm going to hit "publish" anyway!



On a recent JOC hike, there was a call for mincha. When someone asked what we were going to do for a mechitza, I said that we didn't need one, since the woods in the state park are not a regular place of worship, and that standing off to the side would be sufficient.

Someone then told me that I had to stand in the back, since the women were permitted to see the men but the men were not permitted to see the women. He said that he was a rabbi--he did this "professionally," he added--and that I "had to" go behind the men.

I disregarded him and stood a good seven feet from the nearest man, decidedly off on the side and not "behind" any man. Afterwards, he came up to me and said, "You really know your stuff. Are you a rabbi's daughter?" I said, "No, I've just learned some Torah."

The idea that the only way a woman can acquire halakhic knowledge is through her father, or, if I had been married, her husband, is enraging to me. It is also often true--women who are the children or spouses of rabbis often have greater halakhic knowledge than those who are not. But one should not assume the inverse, that one who has a modicum of halakhic knowledge is necessarily related to a rabbi! She could have acquired that knowledge herself! Using her brain! And the Jewish education that her non-rabbinic parents scrimped and saved and impoverished themselves to provide her!

Any woman accustomed to davening with a minyan in sometimes strange settings (museums, airports, wedding halls, airplanes) would know about not needing a mechitza. Men presumably know less about this, since they more frequently daven at pickup minyans at which nary a woman is present or at which they just totally ignore the nearby women who are not davening. It's crazy/not crazy to me how you can be a frum man and not give any thought at all to the mechitza and have it be an invisible non-factor/non-presence in your life, while I feel like any time I go to shul, I am constantly being forced to see, confront, or literally bump up against it. You know, at shuls where the first row of seats in the women's section, which is behind the men's section, does not leave enough space for a non-dramatic bow during the Amida without literally bumping up against the mechitza.)

Any woman who doesn't want to stand behind men should know that standing next to men is perfectly fine. Gentlemen, just keep your eyes forward, towards mizrach, if you don't want to behold my womanly figure! I am stating this here for the record, as a public service.

Sigh. What a world. Also, don't pull your "I'm a rabbi!" business on me!

I wanted to say, "Just don't look if you don't want to see me" to the rabbi, but I didn't. I just stood there on the side and did my thing. But bullshit on the claim that in a non-mechitza setting (that is, a setting in which no mechitza is necessary), women have to stand behind the men. Seriously, bullshit. We'll stand next to you and you keep your faces in your siddurim/smart phones if our clothed-in-autumn-hiking-attire, several-feet-away presence is distracting/disconcerting/tantalizing to you.

I could also have said, when he said that I knew my stuff, "Well, you don't seem to know yours; where'd you get smicha?" but I'm too polite (except online, obviously) to even think of things like that at the time, not to mention actually verbalize it.

Do you know what else is bullshit? Pointing to your klaf to justify your ridiculous sexist beliefs instead of citing a source. I was all ready to go into simchas beis hashoeva from maseches Sukkah on him, but I didn't.

(Citing a source to support your sexist beliefs is also bullshit, of course. Hello, I am a walking, talking, cognizant human being, standing right in front of you!)

I noted that the other mincha-davening women opted to stand in the back, not in the side. Not sure what that means or says about the situation. More of an observation than anything else.

Note: For anyone who thinks this is atypical, it is not. It is 100% typical of my experiences with davening and learning in most Orthodox settings. Especially mincha/maariv. That really gets men upset! How dare a woman show up and try to converse with HaKadosh Boruch Hu in their holy space?

And, yes, this is what happens when women learn Torah on a high(ish) level. Also, when they combine that with a degree in history and women's studies from Harvard. It is a potent and dangerous combination.

Why put up with this nonsense? Why not daven alone rather than with a bunch of non-egalitarian men?

I think I put up with it to the extent that I do (and I don't always--I almost always opt out of tefilla altogether at this point in my life, and very occasionally daven in fully egalitarian settings) because I haven't yet seen a multi-generation egalitarian community with a high level of Jewish knowledge (meaning, my level would be about average or a bit more than average, but not above the 66th percentile) that retains a sense of rootedness and community. There are communities that have some of those things, but not all of them. And it's pretty rare in the Orthodox world, too. But somewhat more common. I think. I mean, I think more Orthodox communities hit more of those marks more of the time. Rampant, reprehensible sexism is one obvious cost.

I maintain some tiny shred of hope that interactions like the one I had on that recent day will create lasting change. He wasn't upset that I disregarded his "halachic" pronouncement and stood off to the side, instead of behind. He seemed impressed. It was more of an exchange than a confrontation. That suggests that change is possible. He will think (I hope) before sending women to the back next time!

Change is remarkably hard in a situation in which men have all of the power. Even "liberal" men are generally loathe to cede that power to women, even to smart, dedicated women. Some interesting things are happening on the leftward fringes of Orthodoxy (women learning at high levels in multiple institutions, Yeshivat Maharat, partnership minyanim) and in the non-denominational traditional egalitarian community (Hadar--Kehilah and Mechon/Yeshiva, Conservative Yeshiva, Fort Tryon Jewish Center, and other things I don't know about).

But as I said, I also skip communal davening and go to fully egalitarian options when it's too much to bear. I am glad that both options exist for me, and I hope for a world where nobody ever sends women to the back. Ever!


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11.06.2016

Gratitude

Thank you to all of the daughters, sisters, aunts, mothers, and grandmothers who fought so hard for our right to vote!

99 years ago today, on November 6, 1917, all of the women of New York State won the right to vote.
New York State Woman Suffrage ad

It would be another almost-three years before all adult women in the United States won the right to vote with the ratification of the 19th amendment on August 18, 1920.

In the lead-up to the 1917 vote, lots of women participated in lots of parades to drum up support for woman suffrage.

Fall of 1917
May 4, 1912
From The World's Work, 1912. Parade took place on May 4, 1912.

See this, this, and this for more information about these three parade images. The full page from The World's Work includes a caption that reports that in the six states in which women had state-wide suffrage by 1912, 85% of women voted! That's amazing and it's sad that it's not that high today. (This fun graphic lets you see how changing turnout for various demographic groups affects the outcome of our upcoming presidential election.)

I won't take my vote on Tuesday for granted; you shouldn't, either!

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10.06.2013

"Dating Tips for the Feminist Man"

I haven't blogged in forever, but maybe it's time to start again. Okay, maybe that's overly ambitious. Maybe it's time to post just one thought. It's been awhile!

Yes to this. Some parts may not apply directly to the men that I date for various reasons, but other parts do, including the following:
  • "Do not run away if things get uncomfortable or you start to feel emotions that confuse you."
  • "If you are in a conflict with this person due to tangled emotions, pick a process and, if you need it, a friend to help."
  • "If you want to be a good male ally, get comfortable with changing emotions - yours and the other person's, and good at talking about them as they change. Life is messy; we have to be able to move with changes as they happen. This comfort is necessary in order to be honest with the other person, and to create shared expectations so no one ends up feeling used or played." [Editorial note: Don't break up with the person because you aren't sure how you feel and you don't want to "lead her on." If you aren't sure how you feel, tell her. Maybe she'll say: "That's okay. I'm not entirely sure, either. Let's keep dating while we figure it out." Or maybe she'll say, "Thank you for letting me know. I need someone who is sure that he likes me. Let's break up." I don't think she'll say, "Why did you lead me on for the past 24 hours when I was sure that you were madly in love with me and we were headed straight to the huppah?" (The next part of the piece says exactly this.)]
  • "Do not tell someone you're serious about them or planning to follow up with them romantically if you're actually not sure."
  • "If your feelings change, simply name the change. If you were interested in a possible partnership or in an ongoing relationship, and then aren’t or are less sure, and you feel bad about that, do not avoid saying so to make your life easier. Just name the emotion and be available and present to the changes in the other."
  • "Stretch yourself."
  • "Give up on trying to be perfect. It just gets in the way. Get used to process. You fuck up, you learn, you grow."
  • "You can take space to get your head clear so you can listen and know yourself better - but that kind of space is measured in hours, or at most days. If you want 'space' measured in weeks or months, you're not taking space, you're avoiding responsibility."
  • " If you find yourself disregarding something she is saying because she is upset as she is saying it, notice that this is sexism. You may have been raised to believe emotion is not rational and is therefore not legitimate. That is for you to unlearn, not for you to impose on others. Emotion and intuition, when finely honed, serve clear thinking. Don't retreat into your head or use logic to disconnect from empathy when you find emotions coming your way; clear thinking is informed by ethics and compassion. Build up your capacity to feel and to respond to feelings in a rational, intuitive, self-aware way."
A lot of this advice would be well-heeded by me, by non-feminist men, by non-feminist women, and by people not currently in the dating world. All around, I would say that it's good life advice.

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3.29.2011

The smell of Chapstick

Do you know that particular, waxy smell that Chapstick has? It's different from Blistex or other lip balms. I don't know what gives it that smell. What I do know is that it reminds me, instantly and irrevocably, of Chanukah.

Why the association?, you might very well wonder. When I was little, we kids got eight presents for the eight nights of Chanukah, one on each night. And for as long as I can remember, one of the presents was a stick of Chapstick. At first, it was the clear kind. But then, when I got older, it was the more exciting cherry flavor. And do you know why the cherry flavor was more exciting? It's because it was more like lipstick. And that was exciting, fun, and cool. Especially when I was little.

I thought of that Chapstick smell-Chanukah association as I read Marjorie Ingall's piece in Tablet ("Little Ladies," Marjorie Ingall, February 22, 2011), in which she wonders about the sale of makeup to six-year-old girls. She's not the only one.

I sympathize with her. But when I remember how non-princessy I was (dressed in gender-neutral primary-colored clothing by my mother, the better to hand down to my little brother), and how I still coveted those tubes of Chapstick, plain or fake-cherry-infused, I wonder. My mother didn't wear makeup, so I wasn't trying to imitate her. My grandmothers did, and one grandmother happily introduced me to nail polish when I was about six. I polished my nails intermittently throughout my tween years.

So, is Walmart creating a market with its geoGirl line, or capitalizing on an existing desire among little girls to paint their faces? On the other hand, as the Ms. Magazine blog post ("Walmart’s geoGirl: Doesn’t Every 8-Year-Old Need to Exfoliate?" Mia Fontaine, February 9, 2011) points out, this is a far cry from a tube of Chapstick:
The line, which boasts a total of 69 (let’s hope that’s coincidental) products, contains everything from eyeshadow, mascara and blush to exfoliator, anti-oxidant treatments and face soap. After all, what 8-year-old doesn’t need to slough off dead skin and elongate her eyelashes?
And what of the claim that the push is coming from parents and not kids? That's a disturbing one!

Thoughts?

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1.07.2010

JOFA conference (and associated blog)...hopefully not missing the point entirely

Welcome to 2010, everyone!

JOFA just announced their upcoming conference.

And associated blog.

The first (and thus far, only) post seems to miss the point of, well, blogging, which is to link to stuff. The text itself is rife with phrases for fun and exciting linkage. Should I offer myself for hire?

The conference itself, in as much as you can know anything before any of the actual sessions are online, looks like it's going to be great (yay, film festival! I hope they show good stuff). The idea of a middle school track is interesting to me. Do they not have a high school track because they assume that interested high school students go to the regular sessions? (Oh, right! That's what I did at the first conference. And it was totally fine. And I thought I was a grown-up. I mean, come on, I was 17!)

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10.15.2009

My Life in Talmud Torah (With Emphasis on Talmud): Loss (Part 2)

Part 1 here.

It was July 1997.

I had just turned eighteen years old and had spent at least twelve years working my ass off in day school so I could get good grades and get into a good college. I had gotten the good grades (mostly), been accepted to the good college, and was about to take a year off to go and study in Israel. First, though, I worked full-time in June and August in Boston, so that I could spend July in New York City, living with a lovely couple with three sons on the Upper West Side, and studying Torah full-time.

I couldn't get enough of Torah. Torah had been like a drug for me towards the end of high school, which was a bit of a rocky time for me emotionally. It was some sort of panacea or a life raft. I clung to it with all my might, in the belief that it, and only it, had the power to save me by righting all the many wrongs that I identified in the Orthodox Judaism in which I had been raised.

I was young and idealistic. I had had a young (far younger than I am now), idealistic, male teacher in high school who had promised me that women learning Torah on a high level would remake the world of halacha and cure all that ailed The System. I believed him. (See this and this for more on that youthful vision, particularly as it relates to Orthodoxy vis-a-vis feminism.) I loved learning Gemara, in particular. At the summer program for high school students that I attended in July 1997, I learned from the best teacher I had ever had, a recent graduate of their unique "I can't believe it's not smicha [rabbinic ordination]!" certificate program. (Yes, it was called that even then.) All the cool people--the thoughtful people, the people who cared about the things that I cared about--seemed to be professional learners and teachers of Torah. I thought I might study in Israel for a year, go to college, and return to this institution or another to collect my own "I can't believe it's not smicha!" certificate. I was the cream of the Modern Orthodox intellectual crop; I was hope for the future of Modern Orthodoxy. I was told that it was for people like me that the founder of my day school had created it. I had questions, of various theological sorts, but they were taken seriously and I was promised that, in time and with enough learning, I would find answers.

And then I went to Israel. And there, in what I always thought of as yeshiva, they told me, "The world is not ready for women to learn Gemara five days a week."1 I knew that this was not true, since I had been learning Gemara five days a week since I was twelve years old, and had just done it for the entire month of July--five mornings a week and one or two evenings a week of night seder--and the world had not said, "Boo." I was not the only one who wanted Gemara five days a week. Several of us, in the highest Gemara class available to us first year students, petitioned the administration for more Gemara, and they said no. We gave them a very logical reason for wanting more Gemara, namely, that with Gemara on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, we spent each Monday reviewing the complicated material, especially the ever-convoluted rishonim, especially as taught through the not-always-textually-accurate-although-it-claims-airtight-logic Brisker method, from the previous Wednesday, since it had all but been forgotten in the intervening four days. They told us that if we stayed in Israel for a second year, at their esteemed institution, that we could have Gemara five days a week.

None of us took them up on the offer. Instead, we went back to the US, to our Ivy League institutions, were nobody told us that we could not get the same education as men because "the world wasn't ready for us." (I did get permission to skip regular Sunday and Thursday morning Jewish thought classes to learn Talmud with another student who had joined the petition for additional Gemara.)

I was not in Israel in isolation. I was there with my male classmates. I spent the Pesach break at a male yeshiva, witnessing, firsthand, while the men were gone, the facilities that were dedicated to men's Torah study. I saw the organic community (no need to import a minyan of opposite-gender people in order to daven as a community!), the beit midrash (large and well-stocked!), the dining hall (three meals a day! no need to take time away from Torah to go grocery shopping and cook!), and the library (well-stocked!). I saw what I suddenly knew, in my heart of hearts, that I would never, ever have.

That year, as I learned more about halacha, I believed in it less. Based on what seemed to be to be hard and fast, intractable problems in halacha--including but not limited to the fact that women could never form their own autonomous prayer group, saying dvarim she'bikdusha--it didn't look like I would be able to get the kind of intense, all-consuming yeshiva-based Torah education that I craved, and that even if I somehow managed to acquire the learning, it didn't look like I would ever be able to have or live a Judaism that would be, well, truly, if I was utterly honest with myself, intellectually palateable. I would also be on the sidelines, unable to really daven the way a person should without the importation of a minyan of men, and never truly respected for my opinion.

I came back to the US without a vision for a future for myself in Jewish learning. The pain I felt at the time is still palpable today. I wasn't sure that I wanted to keep Shabbat or kashrut. I started off my college career attending minyan three times a day, then gradually reduced to once a day, and pretty soon, I was only going on Shabbat, and not too long after that, I stopped going to shul on Shabbat. (I never stopped going to kiddush or Shabbat meals at Hillel, even though I sometimes left them early. Thank God for my unhealthy food issues!) I never really even tried to learn in college.

Oh, that's not quite true. I didn't want to give up that all-consuming vision or dream that I had had, so I went to New York, back to the institution of which I had so many happy memories, for a week of learning over Christmas break. I felt nothing inside. It was boring, empty, and meaningless.

Then I went back to Israel and studied for a few weeks at another institution at which I had been happy during my year in Israel (not the one that denied me full access to the Torah to which I clung). It was an unmitigated disaster. I found Gemara boring and halacha pedantic. Someone told us that the Rambam said that it was not assur, but merely inadvisable, to hug one's brother/sister (of the opposite gender). The teacher made some kind of big deal out of the fact that the Rambam had not outright forbidden hugging one's sibling, as if that was some kind of prize to cling to. That pretty much sealed the deal: This whole Jewish learning thing--heck, this whole adherence to the formalism of halacha thing--was absolutely not for me.

But, I needed the community. I never stopped needing the community. When I no longer cared about learning or davening, I went to shul for the community. I was lucky to have friends who learned and davened and made Shabbat meals, and that kept me in. The world is too huge and lonely a place without Shabbat and the community that traditional observance of Shabbat automatically creates--of people who live within walking distance of each other, of people who play Taboo and Set and Trivial Pursuit together, of people who sponsor seudat shlishit in memory of their dearly departed.

In college, I immersed myself in the study of history and gender, and recognized that the rabbis were all right--feminism was a dangerous thing. Sojourner Truth spoke to me in a way that no rabbi I had never met or whose words I had ever read had. I found my voice, in college, as a writer, a journalist, and student of history and gender--the voice that had been so clearly denied me within the organized Jewish community. I articulated, sometimes only to myself and sometimes to others, a position of suspicion of halacha and halachic practice based on my studies of history and gender, and I felt the pain of generations of women who had come before and been denied full participation in society, in democracy, and in decision-making bodies over the centuries. I tried davening at the egalitarian minyan, but it felt like someone was putting a bandaid over the gaping wound of Jewish history's relationship to the role of women, and, anyway, I liked hanging out with people who knew and talked Torah and got my mishna jokes, and that was, unfortunately, not so true in the egalitarian community, despite it's relatively high level of Jewish education.

I left college alienated from the organized Jewish community and the learning of my youth. If I learned Torah at all (and of course I did--what else are you going to do when you're bored and sitting in a place with sefarim?), it was despite my year in Israel four years earlier, not because of it.

__________________________________________________________
1. This is a direct quote. It was seared into my brain instantly and has never left. If people only knew the impact of their words, especially their words of discouragement, maybe they would think before they spoke....

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6.13.2009

Read It Later: Savior or Satan?

Back in October, I added an extension to Firefox called "Read It Later," thinking that rather than having twenty million tabs open in four different windows (which was causing Firefox to become unresponsive ("crash") at least once a day), I would just save things to this list and then I would, well, read everything later.

Well. It didn't quite work out that way. It seems that if I don't have time to Read It Now, I also don't have time to Read It Later.

Here is a selection of truly fascinating stuff from my Read It Later, as of April 23, 2009, most of which I still have not read. But maybe you will! (I don't really think you will. I am mostly posting this so I can delete all those bookmarks and get started on a new Read It Later list.)

Science, Health, Etc.

Language

Mental Health

Technology

Food

Gender

Families

Education

Fun

Israel

Judaism

Pesach

Obama, Etc. (remember, I started this list in October)

The Economy

Real Estate

Travel

World News

A Selection of New York Times Op-Eds

Misc

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