I've struggled with the question of when to where a kippah for quite some time. It all started when I went to Kutz for a summer. In an enviroment that encouraged ritual experimentation, I embraced the opportunity to try out everything. During the Amidah, I actually took the time to read through all of the blessings that were often skipped over in my synagogue growing up. I began to ask questions about prayer choreography, making sure that everything I did was intential, and something that I found to be meaningful. There was a small minority of female campers/staff who chose to wore a kippah. The times they wore it varied. I started some conversations with them to find out why they do what they do. My first summer on staff I decided to wear a kippah every day. In an environment like Kutz, it is common to see outward displays of Jewish pride. Whether it was a NFTY t-shirt, Jewish star or a Hamsa necklace, symbols of Judaism could be seen everywhere. In the Kutz bubble, I felt free to be who I was. No one (outwardly) judged me, and I felt comfortable expressing myself in that way.
On a day off from camp, my friends and I drove to my house to hang out. I had my kippah on when we left camp, and by that point it was just something else I put on in the morning when I started my day. I walked into my house and realized that I had made a mistake. I watched in horror as my mom insisted that I take my kippah off, embarrassing me in front of my friends, and reminding me that not everyone feels the same way I do about Judaism. I don't know why my parents disliked the kippah. Maybe they thought it was weird? Maybe they had their own negative experiences with more observant Jews who chose to wear kippot? Whatever the reason was, it frustrated me to know that I could not practice Judaism the way I wanted to at home.
I decided to conduct a very short-lived experiment. I wore my kippah to school (I went to a public high school.) I'm not sure if my parents even know about this because I put it on after I left the house. I think it lasted for two days. I got one uncomfortable comment from a teacher, and that was the end of it.
I eventually settled upon just wearing a Kippah on Shabbat and Chagim. For much of a high school when the only thing I "did" to celebrate was go to Temple, I used my Kippah as a physical reminder that today was different.
In an environment like AHA, I've started to reconsider my position on kippah wearing. Some Jewish professionals I know never wear a kippah. Others only wear one when they are "working." Others only wear one when praying. Wearing a kippah definitely sends a message. I'm just not so sure what message I want to be sending right now...
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
My Mixed Feelings on Halloween as a Jew...
I grew up celebrating Halloween. I spent the weeks before choosing the perfect costume, and spent months after enjoying the candy I got by trick-or-treating. I learned Halloween songs in school, and loved to carve pumpkins. When I got to college, I made friends with a group of very observant Jews. Halloween was just not on their radar. It wasn't something they did at all growing up. October 31st was just another day. While all of my friends didn't do anything for Halloween, my Hillel felt the need to do something Halloween related, since it fell on Shabbat. We attempted to have Halloween themed things, without actually doing anything blatantly Halloween-y. We put Jewish facts about superstitions, ghosts, and magic on Shabbat dinner tables. We had a haunted havdalah in the middle of the Nature Preserve- a wooded area on campus. While this was a Hillel event, it was specifically and intentionally co-sponsored by KESHER and KOACH, Hillel's Reform and Conservative communities on campus. Shammai, Hillel's Orthodox Community declined the invitation to be a co-sponsor. While almost none of the Orthodox Community took part in any of our activites that weekend last Halloween, they were angry. While it didn't last very long, me we (Hillel e-board members) received a lot of backlash for choosing to do any Halloween programming.
Here I am at AHA one year later. I kind of assumed that being part of a Pluralistic Jewish Community like AHA would mean that Halloween really wouldn't be an issue. We are a Jewish school, so why do anything about Halloween? It just so happens that one of the co-deans of Jewish Life LOVES Halloween. He has been talking about it for months. I have to admit, his ideas are pretty cool. He's shared a lot of crazy information with me about Judaism and the supernatural.
I was asked to compile a Haunted Havdalah Service. While I am not thrilled by the idea of helping to create Halloween programming on campus, I am fascinated by all of the creepy (and sometimes scary) aspects of Judaism that aren't so familiar.
The readings between the Havdalah blessings are:
(Taken from J. Trachtenberg’s Jewish Magic and Superstition)
To be said out loud at the beginning of Havdalah:
It has been said that magical charms were best recited during or immediately following the Havdalah ceremony. The Talmud specifies Tuesday and Friday nights (and later the end of Shabbat, Havdalah) was also added, as the time when the demons were most to be feared. Psalm 91 (the anti-demonic psalm), was used as a form of protection.
After first paragraph/Before the Wine Blessing:
On Saturday evening, wine was often offered to the spirits, as part of a larger ritual. Some of the wine was poured on the ground “as a good omen for the entire week, to symbolize good fortune and blessing.” The Geonim decided that this was not respectable when they included it among a list of superstitious practices.
After the Wine/Before the Fire:
There is a custom of looking at your nails during the blessing over the fire. It is suggested that this custom may be connected with the frequent evocation of the “princes of the nail.” The late practice of enclosing the thumb within the other fingers during this may have been influenced by the belief that the “princes” inhabit the thumbnail, since this nail was most often used in divination, so that finger should be hidden from view. It has also been suggested that the ritual of examining ones finger nails by the light of the Havdalah candle exists because the wise man can read in our hands the fate and the good fortune which is about to befall us.
After the Fire/Before the Spices:
When Shabbat is over the fires of Gehinnom are rekindled and give off a fearful stench. We smell the spices so that they may protect us from the foul odor of Hell. Another explanation of spices is that they strengthened the body against the departure of the “additional soul” which inhabited it on Shabbat.
Crazy stuff, right? While I will not choose to attend a minyan alternative text study about ghosts and witches in the book of Samuel, I am looking forward to Havdalah of Horror and making candy apples!
Here I am at AHA one year later. I kind of assumed that being part of a Pluralistic Jewish Community like AHA would mean that Halloween really wouldn't be an issue. We are a Jewish school, so why do anything about Halloween? It just so happens that one of the co-deans of Jewish Life LOVES Halloween. He has been talking about it for months. I have to admit, his ideas are pretty cool. He's shared a lot of crazy information with me about Judaism and the supernatural.
I was asked to compile a Haunted Havdalah Service. While I am not thrilled by the idea of helping to create Halloween programming on campus, I am fascinated by all of the creepy (and sometimes scary) aspects of Judaism that aren't so familiar.
The readings between the Havdalah blessings are:
(Taken from J. Trachtenberg’s Jewish Magic and Superstition)
To be said out loud at the beginning of Havdalah:
It has been said that magical charms were best recited during or immediately following the Havdalah ceremony. The Talmud specifies Tuesday and Friday nights (and later the end of Shabbat, Havdalah) was also added, as the time when the demons were most to be feared. Psalm 91 (the anti-demonic psalm), was used as a form of protection.
After first paragraph/Before the Wine Blessing:
On Saturday evening, wine was often offered to the spirits, as part of a larger ritual. Some of the wine was poured on the ground “as a good omen for the entire week, to symbolize good fortune and blessing.” The Geonim decided that this was not respectable when they included it among a list of superstitious practices.
After the Wine/Before the Fire:
There is a custom of looking at your nails during the blessing over the fire. It is suggested that this custom may be connected with the frequent evocation of the “princes of the nail.” The late practice of enclosing the thumb within the other fingers during this may have been influenced by the belief that the “princes” inhabit the thumbnail, since this nail was most often used in divination, so that finger should be hidden from view. It has also been suggested that the ritual of examining ones finger nails by the light of the Havdalah candle exists because the wise man can read in our hands the fate and the good fortune which is about to befall us.
After the Fire/Before the Spices:
When Shabbat is over the fires of Gehinnom are rekindled and give off a fearful stench. We smell the spices so that they may protect us from the foul odor of Hell. Another explanation of spices is that they strengthened the body against the departure of the “additional soul” which inhabited it on Shabbat.
Crazy stuff, right? While I will not choose to attend a minyan alternative text study about ghosts and witches in the book of Samuel, I am looking forward to Havdalah of Horror and making candy apples!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Tracy Fisher
Kutz Camp Bayit 1 2006(Tracy is on the right in the black shirt with the big smile.)
I received word a few nights ago that one of my former campers had died. At 18 years old, Tracy Fisher collapsed as a result of a blood clot that had traveled to from her leg to her lungs. This is the second time this year that a young person from the Kutz community has been lost. Kids aren't supposed to die. My campers are supposed to go on from high school, to college, and become adults. Tracy was having the time of her life at Missouri, taking advantage of every opportunity.
As soon as I heard the news, memories from that summer flooded my head. It was my first summer as an RA. I had the youngest cabin- B1 babies, as we affectionately called them. There was Matilda, one of my campers alter egos, Mushu, from one of the most memorable programs that summer, check in-check out with a giant fake phone...the list could go on forever.
Tracy was always smiling and laughing. She was in an elective I taught that summer where we learned songs from the NFTY bencher. Most kids took the class because they wanted to learn all of the songs they didn't know, that everyone else at camp already seemed to know. Tracy was the exception. She chose to take the class because she knew ALL of the songs with the hand motions to go with them. She could always be counted on to take the lead and be enthusiastic about anything. She had such passion for everything about camp, including plotting ways to sneak out of the cabin. Scheming with the other campers late at night, I would hear giggles and shushing as I walked around the cabin checking to see that everyone was where they should be. Towards the end of camp, she even managed to spark a campwide search when I couldn't find her in her bed. It turns out she was in another girls bed the whole time! I loved those girls like my own children, and feel honored that they have chosen to stay in touch with me. It has been an amazing thing to watch these girls grow up, from young high schoolers to young adults in college.
Bayit 1 formed a special community that summer. When news of Tracy's death began to circulate through facebook and e-mail, we were all reminded of that tight knit bunk we all spent a summer in. Pictures, stories, and love for each other and Tracy could be felt despite the fact that we were separated by states and even countries. I hope that the memories of Tracy from that summer and beyond keep us all smiling and laughing, just as she would have wanted.
Zichrona Livracha-May Tracy's memory be for a blessing...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
My perfect Jewish community...
A few summers back I spent two weeks shadowing my congregational Rabbi. Okay, that's kind of a lie. He's not my congregational Rabbi. He's the Rabbi of the synagogue that my old synagogue merged with. My family never rejoined a synagogue, so I don't really belong anywhere. When I'm home, I spend Shabbat at that synagogue.
Anyway, this internship was a real eye-opening experience on many levels. The Rabbi got permission to have me watch him conduct a counseling session. I also got to go on a hospital visit, help lead services, sit in on meetings, and more. While I definitely learned a lot by watching my Rabbi go about his daily tasks, what really stands out in my mind was lunch time. Every day we had lunch together. It was my chance to pick his brain and ask him anything I wanted. It was also his chance to ask me whatever he wanted to.
I remember complaining to him about Hillel. The summer of my internship was the summer after my first semester at Binghamton. I was annoyed with the Reform community situation on my campus. I was annoyed that I was expected to be a campus leader before I even had the chance to become acclimated to campus. I talked about my fear of hospitals, how I worried that HUC was going to be too academically challenging for me.
One of the most thought-provoking conversations we had during those two weeks was about community. He asked me what my ideal Jewish community would look like. What a question! Since that summer, my answer certainly has changed. I want to lead a community of learned Jews who value pluralism and embrace one anothers differences. I want to be challenged and challenge others. I want a community that cares deeply about each other, their relationships with each other and with God. I envision intergenerational learning that begins in the home and continues in the synagogue. I want to create prayer experiences that connect people to Judaism, and inspires them to go beyond the synagogue walls and change the world.
I just hope that regardless of what flavor of Judaism I choose, or where I end up working, I hope that I never lose sight of my dream Jewish community. For now, I think I'll just enjoy living in a Jewish plurastic community, and learning all that I can from our mistakes and successes...
Anyway, this internship was a real eye-opening experience on many levels. The Rabbi got permission to have me watch him conduct a counseling session. I also got to go on a hospital visit, help lead services, sit in on meetings, and more. While I definitely learned a lot by watching my Rabbi go about his daily tasks, what really stands out in my mind was lunch time. Every day we had lunch together. It was my chance to pick his brain and ask him anything I wanted. It was also his chance to ask me whatever he wanted to.
I remember complaining to him about Hillel. The summer of my internship was the summer after my first semester at Binghamton. I was annoyed with the Reform community situation on my campus. I was annoyed that I was expected to be a campus leader before I even had the chance to become acclimated to campus. I talked about my fear of hospitals, how I worried that HUC was going to be too academically challenging for me.
One of the most thought-provoking conversations we had during those two weeks was about community. He asked me what my ideal Jewish community would look like. What a question! Since that summer, my answer certainly has changed. I want to lead a community of learned Jews who value pluralism and embrace one anothers differences. I want to be challenged and challenge others. I want a community that cares deeply about each other, their relationships with each other and with God. I envision intergenerational learning that begins in the home and continues in the synagogue. I want to create prayer experiences that connect people to Judaism, and inspires them to go beyond the synagogue walls and change the world.
I just hope that regardless of what flavor of Judaism I choose, or where I end up working, I hope that I never lose sight of my dream Jewish community. For now, I think I'll just enjoy living in a Jewish plurastic community, and learning all that I can from our mistakes and successes...
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Conservative Yeshiva summer essay
Compose a 1 to 2 page essay (double-spaced) discussing your religious background, your involvement in the Jewish community, why you want to study at the Conservative Yeshiva and your goals.
I am a product of the Reform Movement. As a high school student I took pride in my Reform upbringing, becoming an active member of my synagogue, NFTY, HUC-JIR Miller High School Honors program, and spent a life changing summer at the URJ Kutz Camp.
I transferred to Binghamton from a community college excited to be a part of a new Jewish community. My first Shabbat on campus was spent with a Hillel staff member, who happened to be my friend from camp. After such a warm introduction to Jewish life at Binghamton, I eagerly anticipated my first Hillel Shabbat experience on campus. I walked into the Reform Minyan that first Friday night, and found six other students sitting in a circle. The service leader mumbled through some prayers, attempting to get through the service as quickly as possible.
Dinner with the rest of the Hillel community afterwards felt a little more welcoming. Comforted by the familiarity of Jewish ritual, I relaxed as a student leader announced the page for Kiddush. As I waited for the familiar prayer I quickly became confused. What were they saying? I know the Kiddush, and this wasn’t it. As we concluded the meal and began singing, I again became uncomfortable. I wondered why we were using a Conservative bencher in a pluralistic setting. Why couldn’t we use the Reform ones?
The next morning my apartment mate and I trekked down the hill to Hillel’s Conservative Minyan. I had never been to anything but a Reform service. The unfamiliar siddur and new tunes intrigued me. I found myself going back week after week even without the security of my roommate, excited to learn more about a flavor of Judaism I was not accustomed to. After getting to know some of the regular Conservative Minyan-goers, I became more interested in understanding what it meant to be an observant Jew. As a Reform Jew, I felt observant. In a Conservative community, for the first time in my life, I felt like there was a whole world for me just waiting to be discovered.
When I returned to campus for my junior year of high school, I was greeted by two new (married) Hillel staff members- Shana Kantor (Director), and Rabbi Shalom Kantor (Hillel at Binghamton’s first ever liberal campus Rabbi.) This was the beginning of one of my most important relationships thus far in my Jewish journey. Rabbi Kantor was hired as the KOACH-Hillel Rabbi, expected to cater to all streams of Judaism, while focusing on the Conservative population at the same time. By the time Rabbi Kantor came to campus I had been appointed chair of KESHER, the Reform Jewish group on campus. This meant that Rabbi Kantor was my advisor. We met weekly. Most of our time was spent disagreeing with each other. Here was this new, young, Conservative Rabbi trying to tell me what the Reform community on campus needed. What did he know? Eventually, we found some middle ground and began to work together. I had found an incredible mentor.
We spent the next two years attempting to build up the Reform community on campus. Unsatisfied with the options I had as a Reform Jew on campus, I began to search elsewhere with Shalom as my guide. He made every aspect of my Hillel experience a learning experience. We spent hours over the next year studying halacha, liturgy, and talking about where I fit in along the Jewish spectrum.
After college I moved to Greensboro, NC to begin a Fellowship at the American Hebrew Academy (AHA), the nation’s only Jewish Pluralistic College-prep Boarding School. I am given the opportunity to mentor teens, create Jewish programming, and continue to study the subjects of my choosing. The pluralistic atmospheres both at AHA and Binghamton have afforded me the opportunity to continue to explore my Jewish identity.
Since I was a young girl, my dream has been to become a Rabbi. I had always assumed that I would attend HUC-JIR just because that’s what you do as a committed Reform Jew. After meeting Rabbi Kantor, I’ve begun to explore all different forms of Judaism. I have realized that I lack many of the text skills and ritual understanding of a more observant lifestyle, something that I hope to learn by attending the Conservative Yeshiva.
I am a product of the Reform Movement. As a high school student I took pride in my Reform upbringing, becoming an active member of my synagogue, NFTY, HUC-JIR Miller High School Honors program, and spent a life changing summer at the URJ Kutz Camp.
I transferred to Binghamton from a community college excited to be a part of a new Jewish community. My first Shabbat on campus was spent with a Hillel staff member, who happened to be my friend from camp. After such a warm introduction to Jewish life at Binghamton, I eagerly anticipated my first Hillel Shabbat experience on campus. I walked into the Reform Minyan that first Friday night, and found six other students sitting in a circle. The service leader mumbled through some prayers, attempting to get through the service as quickly as possible.
Dinner with the rest of the Hillel community afterwards felt a little more welcoming. Comforted by the familiarity of Jewish ritual, I relaxed as a student leader announced the page for Kiddush. As I waited for the familiar prayer I quickly became confused. What were they saying? I know the Kiddush, and this wasn’t it. As we concluded the meal and began singing, I again became uncomfortable. I wondered why we were using a Conservative bencher in a pluralistic setting. Why couldn’t we use the Reform ones?
The next morning my apartment mate and I trekked down the hill to Hillel’s Conservative Minyan. I had never been to anything but a Reform service. The unfamiliar siddur and new tunes intrigued me. I found myself going back week after week even without the security of my roommate, excited to learn more about a flavor of Judaism I was not accustomed to. After getting to know some of the regular Conservative Minyan-goers, I became more interested in understanding what it meant to be an observant Jew. As a Reform Jew, I felt observant. In a Conservative community, for the first time in my life, I felt like there was a whole world for me just waiting to be discovered.
When I returned to campus for my junior year of high school, I was greeted by two new (married) Hillel staff members- Shana Kantor (Director), and Rabbi Shalom Kantor (Hillel at Binghamton’s first ever liberal campus Rabbi.) This was the beginning of one of my most important relationships thus far in my Jewish journey. Rabbi Kantor was hired as the KOACH-Hillel Rabbi, expected to cater to all streams of Judaism, while focusing on the Conservative population at the same time. By the time Rabbi Kantor came to campus I had been appointed chair of KESHER, the Reform Jewish group on campus. This meant that Rabbi Kantor was my advisor. We met weekly. Most of our time was spent disagreeing with each other. Here was this new, young, Conservative Rabbi trying to tell me what the Reform community on campus needed. What did he know? Eventually, we found some middle ground and began to work together. I had found an incredible mentor.
We spent the next two years attempting to build up the Reform community on campus. Unsatisfied with the options I had as a Reform Jew on campus, I began to search elsewhere with Shalom as my guide. He made every aspect of my Hillel experience a learning experience. We spent hours over the next year studying halacha, liturgy, and talking about where I fit in along the Jewish spectrum.
After college I moved to Greensboro, NC to begin a Fellowship at the American Hebrew Academy (AHA), the nation’s only Jewish Pluralistic College-prep Boarding School. I am given the opportunity to mentor teens, create Jewish programming, and continue to study the subjects of my choosing. The pluralistic atmospheres both at AHA and Binghamton have afforded me the opportunity to continue to explore my Jewish identity.
Since I was a young girl, my dream has been to become a Rabbi. I had always assumed that I would attend HUC-JIR just because that’s what you do as a committed Reform Jew. After meeting Rabbi Kantor, I’ve begun to explore all different forms of Judaism. I have realized that I lack many of the text skills and ritual understanding of a more observant lifestyle, something that I hope to learn by attending the Conservative Yeshiva.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The URJ's newest summer camp is coming to AHA!
http://urj.org/about/union/pr/2009/?syspage=article&item_id=25100
I am SO excited for this camp to open up at AHA!
I remember summers in middle school attending Mel Davis' basketball camp. The intense athletic atmosphere was incredible.
When I was a kid I would have jumped at the chance to go to a camp like this and combine 3 of my passions- sports, judaism, and summer camp!
I have to disagree with me friend David- I think that this idea for a camp is awesome! I hope that I am able to be a part of it, and watch it grow and thrive...
I am SO excited for this camp to open up at AHA!
I remember summers in middle school attending Mel Davis' basketball camp. The intense athletic atmosphere was incredible.
When I was a kid I would have jumped at the chance to go to a camp like this and combine 3 of my passions- sports, judaism, and summer camp!
I have to disagree with me friend David- I think that this idea for a camp is awesome! I hope that I am able to be a part of it, and watch it grow and thrive...
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Jewish Identity...or what can I do to ensure the future of the Jewish people?
Maybe it's because I've spent the last 10 years involved with programming that builds Jewish identy, but it seems like Jewish identity is just something assumed here. For such a Jewish place, I found it interesting that the Jewish conversations I had in high school are not happening here at AHA...yet.
I went to a public high school. I lived in an area that has a large Jewish population. I grew up in a very grassroots synagogue, working hard to build up a tiny youth group. I went to Kutz where the Jewish possibilities were endless, and my wildest dreams were shared by a community. In NFTY I found other peers who cared about the same social justice causes I did. I felt like the coolest kid in the world when I was selected to spend every other Sunday studying with other teens in NYC at HUC's Miller HS Honors program. I just couldn't get enough of Judaism. My whole world was Jewish...but how do I have parts of my life where I can't practice my Judaism in a way that is meaningful to me?
Maybe because although it may have seemed like I was breathing Judaism 24/7, I really wasn't. The things I learned and valued as a result of intense Jewish experiences made me a very observant Jew always searching for more, something my family was not. While I of course wish that my family shared my enthusiasm, I'm finally at the point where I'm okay with it. I lived for camp-style Shabbat, spirited birkat hamazon, song sessions, and spending afternoons outside a tree talking to my favorite Jewish professionals about God, Judaism, and my role in the world.
The way I was raised really makes me question Jewish Educators. How do we fix the disconnect? We can teach the kiddush, motzi, etc. If these kids aren't given the opportunity to have Shabbat dinners with their families, then what is the point? We can use camp as a Jewish utopia, introducing kids to Shabbat. Make Torah real- study it, wrestle with it, question it.
I admit it, I'm strange. I somehow grew to be a passionate Jewish adult, even though I feel like my most influential Jewish experiences came from outside of the home. I remember the time when my brother decided to quit Hebrew School in 7th grade after his bar mitzvah. Like most parents of kids in my brothers grades, they let him quit. Why is this ok?
My brother doesn't know what it's like to sit around a Shabbat table, receive a childrens blessing, taste the sweet wine, challah, and enjoy others company. He has never been moved by a service, inspired by a Rabbi, or felt the need to keep studying. He went off to college with no interest in finding a Jewish community. Will he raise Jewish children?
How do we as Jewish educators keep kids, parents, families engaged?
I believe that enthusiasm breeds enthusiasm, but sometimes that's just not enough...
I went to a public high school. I lived in an area that has a large Jewish population. I grew up in a very grassroots synagogue, working hard to build up a tiny youth group. I went to Kutz where the Jewish possibilities were endless, and my wildest dreams were shared by a community. In NFTY I found other peers who cared about the same social justice causes I did. I felt like the coolest kid in the world when I was selected to spend every other Sunday studying with other teens in NYC at HUC's Miller HS Honors program. I just couldn't get enough of Judaism. My whole world was Jewish...but how do I have parts of my life where I can't practice my Judaism in a way that is meaningful to me?
Maybe because although it may have seemed like I was breathing Judaism 24/7, I really wasn't. The things I learned and valued as a result of intense Jewish experiences made me a very observant Jew always searching for more, something my family was not. While I of course wish that my family shared my enthusiasm, I'm finally at the point where I'm okay with it. I lived for camp-style Shabbat, spirited birkat hamazon, song sessions, and spending afternoons outside a tree talking to my favorite Jewish professionals about God, Judaism, and my role in the world.
The way I was raised really makes me question Jewish Educators. How do we fix the disconnect? We can teach the kiddush, motzi, etc. If these kids aren't given the opportunity to have Shabbat dinners with their families, then what is the point? We can use camp as a Jewish utopia, introducing kids to Shabbat. Make Torah real- study it, wrestle with it, question it.
I admit it, I'm strange. I somehow grew to be a passionate Jewish adult, even though I feel like my most influential Jewish experiences came from outside of the home. I remember the time when my brother decided to quit Hebrew School in 7th grade after his bar mitzvah. Like most parents of kids in my brothers grades, they let him quit. Why is this ok?
My brother doesn't know what it's like to sit around a Shabbat table, receive a childrens blessing, taste the sweet wine, challah, and enjoy others company. He has never been moved by a service, inspired by a Rabbi, or felt the need to keep studying. He went off to college with no interest in finding a Jewish community. Will he raise Jewish children?
How do we as Jewish educators keep kids, parents, families engaged?
I believe that enthusiasm breeds enthusiasm, but sometimes that's just not enough...
Sunday, October 4, 2009
What's next?
I'm starting to feel the pressure to figure out my next move in life.
A lot of the fellows here seem to have it figured out- either applying to grad school or hope to be asked to stay at AHA for another year.
I've been saying that I'm not ready to apply to rabbinical school yet. How do I know when I'm ready? In terms of logistics, I'm going to need a year before rabbinical to learn Hebrew in Israel, and I need the financial security to do so. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually- how do I know when the time is right?
When I finally determine that I am ready to apply, where am I going?
HUC? Zeigler? RRC? Hebrew College?
I don't know how to figure out what flavor of Judaism fits me best. What kind of Rabbi do I want to be? If I decide that I want to be a congregational Rabbi I think that I really do need to pick one type of Judaism...
If I want to work for Hillel, I think that Hebrew College might be a good choice.
Do I want to also get a Master's degree in Jewish Education? Social work? Informal education? Special education?
How am I supposed to choose just one or two things??
How will I know when the time is right?
One thing I know for sure- I want to help others on their Jewish Journey
What's the next step in MY Jewish Journey?
A lot of the fellows here seem to have it figured out- either applying to grad school or hope to be asked to stay at AHA for another year.
I've been saying that I'm not ready to apply to rabbinical school yet. How do I know when I'm ready? In terms of logistics, I'm going to need a year before rabbinical to learn Hebrew in Israel, and I need the financial security to do so. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually- how do I know when the time is right?
When I finally determine that I am ready to apply, where am I going?
HUC? Zeigler? RRC? Hebrew College?
I don't know how to figure out what flavor of Judaism fits me best. What kind of Rabbi do I want to be? If I decide that I want to be a congregational Rabbi I think that I really do need to pick one type of Judaism...
If I want to work for Hillel, I think that Hebrew College might be a good choice.
Do I want to also get a Master's degree in Jewish Education? Social work? Informal education? Special education?
How am I supposed to choose just one or two things??
How will I know when the time is right?
One thing I know for sure- I want to help others on their Jewish Journey
What's the next step in MY Jewish Journey?
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