Thursday, December 31, 2009

A look back, and a leap forward

2009 was a good year. A really good year. I spent my last semester of college learning from incredible people, taking in all the wonderful things that I loved about college. I met some of my best friends at Binghamton. Six months out of college it's nice to know that I'm still close with the ones that were really important to me. This summer was not the most memorable summer, but one that allowed me to grow and realize what is really important in my life. Now here I am, working at my first real job, and loving every minute of it. Every day I wake up excited to see what the day will bring-solidifying my decision to commit to working in the Jewish world long-term.

I've never been one to keep New Year's resolutions, but here is what I did this year:

-Graduated college


-Kept in touch with friends from college


-Got an awesome job


-Lived outside of NY state for the first time...ever

-Got healthier (lost 15 pounds and started going to the gym every other day...I'm able to run 1+ miles and bike 3+ miles-who have I become?!)

Some things I've decided to work on for 2010:

-Pray every day (I love liturgy, I teach liturgy- I feel like I need to be doing a better job of practicing what I preach)

-Go to the gym every day (but  take off a day on the weekend) I feel so much better when I go to the gym so why not go more often?

-Be conscious of what I am consuming, and make healthier choices (the Jewish food movement has always sparked my interest, and it's something I want to integrate into my life.)

-Learn how to be financially responsible (For the first time in a long time, I do not have to worry about having enough money to eat, pay the few bills I have, etc., and am not so good at budgeting what I have.)

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

My home(s)



It's difficult being in a place that's supposed to be "home," but seems anything but that.  My parents moved only once while I was living at home. I didn't have to switch schools, so it wasn't a huge adjustment. It got really weird when my parents moved while I was in college- meaning that if I were to spend any time in their home, it would be in a house that I felt no connection to, since I never actually lived there.

Growing up in a tight-knit synagogue like the Reform Temple of Suffern, I became aware of the importance of giving back to my community, wherever I may find myself. The summer my synagogue closed its doors was during my time as an RA at Kutz. I knew the date of my synagogue's last service, and asked for special permission to leave camp to attend the service. I dreaded that day. How could I say goodbye to the place where I spent more time during my high school years than any other place? Countless shul-ins, youth group board meetings, services, hebrew school classes, auctions, purim schpiels, etc. Before I left for camp that summer I went around and took pictures. I wanted to capture the memories I have every time I walked into that sanctuary.



 I tried to capture the feeling I got when I was standing next to my Rabbi, filling in for our student cantors when they were not with us for Shabbat. I loved that feeling. It's something I haven't been able to feel since. I've led services in many different locations, and nothing has felt quite as intimate and spiritual as leading my own congregational family in prayer. As I sat during that last service and held back tears (and later broke down on the way home...) I wondered what it would be like to come home from college and not have a congregation to call home.

What do you do when your spiritual home physically no longer exists? Maybe that's why I feel like I'm constantly searching. I can't quite fit in anywhere. I've gone to numerous services at the synagogue my congregation merged with, but it's just not the same. The building isn't all that unfamiliar, either. Between the many hours I spent during Kadimah in the new synagogue, and the summer I spent a few weeks interning for the Rabbi, it's the closest thing I have to a congregation. A part of it has to do with my issues with Reform and denominational Judaism, but maybe there's more to it than just my own struggles with Judaism.
I found a new home when I went to Binghamton.


I found mentors in my Hillel staff, and best friends in my Hillel leadership team members. I felt supported, encouraged, loved, challenged, and most of all...connected. The relationships I valued so much from college still continue today. Outside of the Hillel bubble it has been interesting to watch each other figure out how Judaism works (or doesn't)  in the real world.
One constant (but temporary) Jewish community I've had is NFTY/Kutz.


Despite all of the change I've experienced in the past several years, I am still willing to call that community magical. It's one of those communities that are indescribable to those who haven't experienced its power.
Now I find myself at AHA, and while I call it home for now, I know that it is most likely not permanent...


And still, after all of my searching, I still find that I love building Jewish community wherever I am.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

A label that I might actually like...

My friend David over at The Reform Shuckle is someone who I spent several summers with at the URJ Kutz Camp. He's one of the few people who I feel like I truly connect with in terms of our struggle with the Reform Movement and Reform Judaism.

In his latest blog post, David speaks of the ‘Reform intellectual community.’ My first instinct after reading this was kind of to just roll my eyes, thinking that this was just an attempt to label David and a few of his friends as an elite group of Reform Jews. I read the whole post, and then started to follow the comments and conversations that resulted from the post. One commenter asked David if he could list a few women that might fit into this community he was describing, since he only listed some male examples. He lists some female leaders I have met or heard about…and at the end of the list was me. Ironically, another commentator later suggested that Rabbi Elyse Frishman (editor of Mishkan Tefilah, the Reform Movement’s new siddur) to the list, who happens to be the first female Rabbi that I can remember knowing (she was the Rabbi of my synagogue for several years when I was younger.) I like to think that maybe my often beyond boundaries thoughts about Judaism might have actually come from somewhere, and I’m not just crazy!

David defines the Reform intellectual community as “the group of Reform Jews who are actively thinking about and actively re-thinking what Reform Judaism is and who actively consider the implications of living as a Reform Jew." While I don't necessarily have a problem with with this, I want to know why we can’t fit into the Reform Movement. Why isn’t their room for us? Growing up in the Reform Movement is the reason why I am the Jew I am today. These people (and more) that David mentions are all on the fringes of the movement. As I am just beginning to think about what kind of adult Jewish community I want to become a part of, I am sad to say that the Reform Community is not an option (for more reasons than just this, but still…) Are there enough of these types of people that David mentions to find a community as I get older (and not just an internet based community?)

While I don’t really have a problem with this label, I just wonder if there is something proactive that we can be doing. Or does it matter? Maybe we’ll always be trying to figure it out. Maybe we’ll just all become Jewish professionals and find others to build the communities we dream about. Or maybe we’ll just continue to talk about it.

It is people like David that make me feel less lonely in my search to figure out my own Judaism and to find a community that will connect me to others, and challenge me at the same time.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Being in the Present

I'm in New York until next Sunday for winter break. I'm amazed at how little has changed here, and how different I am. It is really difficult for me to be here, and I'm looking forward to being back at AHA soon.
I have a big problem with being present. I want to enjoy and just try and be in the now. I find it near impossible. I am always waiting for the next thing to happen in my life. When I was in high school, I couldn't wait to get to college. When I was in college I couldn't wait to start my new job. Now I find myself searching to fill my summer and next year. If it's possible, should I stay at AHA? Should I explore Hillel jobs? Should I apply to grad school? Should I go to Israel?
This stream of thought is constantly running through my mind.
I've decided to be selfish this summer. I am applying to spend three weeks in California participating in the Brandeis Collegiate Institute (BCI) on the Brandeis-Bardin Campus of the American Jewish University (AJU.) First, I am really looking forward to being a participant. I can't remember when I wasn't leading some aspect of whatever Jewish community I was a part of. It can be exhausting. After a year of working full time in the Jewish world, I am looking forward to reflecting on my own Jewish journey. I have certainly had a lot of fascinating Jewish experiences since high school, and look forward to using my time at BCI to discover new ways to express my Judaism and to begin to figure out Judaism for me as an adult.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Kelly the Hebrew teacher

I am really passionate about education. Since Middle School when I became a madricha in my Hebrew School, I've found the task of passing on my heritage to others to be exciting, rewarding, and one of the most important things we as Jews should be doing.
This year, I decided to contact the local Reform Synagogue to see if their were any Hebrew tutoring positions open. After a few e-mail exchanges, a meeting and a phone call with the Rabbi, I found myself in the 6th grade boys classroom. Kelly, the Hebrew Teacher?
As scary as that sounds to you, it sounded even scarier to me. I had absolutely zero prior experience teaching in a formal setting. What was I getting myself into?
There is a reason why the grade is divided into two classes by gender. They are more than a handful on their own. When they get together, it's nearly impossible to do anything productive with them.
For the most part, I feel like I am really just a babysitter attempting to keep the kids focused on their task. Most can barely read Hebrew, and are just memorizing prayers. Isn't education more than just memorization? I imagine that, for a lot of these kids, the only Jewish Education they are getting is from attending Hebrew School. If this is so, they are only learning how to memorize prayers. How are they going to be able to grow into Jewish adults that understand the importance of building Jewish community?
A lot of these kids don't care. It really worries me. How do I make them care? How do I make sure that they find the desire to continue to explore their Jewish identity and heritage beyond the classroom?
I'm inclined to say that Jewish day schools are the answer. Obviously, this is not the answer to my 6th grade class...but in general, I think that is the answer to educate young Jews. On the other hand, I went to public school and I think I turned out okay...

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Sometimes, my friends make me feel like an underachiever

I have amazing friends who do amazing things. I always talk about how I want to change the world. At this point in my life, I feel like sometimes I am just talk. What can I really do while working in a Jewish bubble? I do feel like I make in impact on individuals here at AHA, but beyond that, what am I really doing?
My friend Amy visited me last night. We met in 2006, and worked at Kutz together for two summers. It had been about two years since I've seen her. She got in around 3pm, and got a quick tour of the residential side of campus. After we dropped off her stuff in my room, we went over to Temple Emanuel where she watched me attempt to control my 6th grade class. Afterwards we went to really nice dinner and finally got to catch up. She leads the kind of life I would love to experience. She just spent the last year or so working at the Teva Learning Center. Next month, she is moving to Rwanda for a year. Yes, Rwanda. She is going with the JDC to volunteer at a boarding school for kids who lost parents in the genocide. What an incredible experience.
And I thought it was a big deal to move to Greensboro...
I've seriously been considering spending a year in Israel. I spend an abnormable amount of time researching every MASA sponsored Israel program, and find a new favorite every other day. I have a lot of conflicting thoughts about spending a year in Israel. How could I function in a country where English isn't the primary language (I know, almost everyone speaks English)? Would I be okay without the familiarity of friends nearby (after thinking about this, I actually think that I know more people in Israel than in Greensboro)? How would I financially support myself?
Something is pulling me in the direction of wanting to go. I'm just afraid of change, which I know is normal. I have a love for Israel, something I knew before I ever even visited. Now I want to explore the complexities of Israel, learn the language, eat the food, and live the history of the Jewish people.
Is it time?

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Shabbat...

It's a new academic trimester here at AHA, and that means that I have the opportunity to change some of my responsibilities. For student teaching I am now working with a liturgy class. I originally picked the class because liturgy is something that I am really passionate about, both academically and personally. It is also one of the few places where Jewish and academic life really have the potential to fuse together, and help our students connect to prayer. It really worries me to watch these kids, attending an incredible pluralistic Jewish school, completely unengaged from Jewish life.
I happen to have lucked out. I live and work with the freshman girls house. Everything is new and exciting to these girls. They have such Jewish pride. A few months ago our house was on for toranut (setting up for Shabbat dinner as well as leading dinner blessings and singing) and was amazed at my girls' ruach as they proudly led our community. If I would have let them, they probably would have sung through the whole bencher. I had to limit them to about 5 or so songs.
As a Jewish Life committee, we talk a lot about changing the Shabbat atmosphere. This Shabbat, our house happens to be on Toranut again. We are going to try something new. For Oneg we always have it in a Residential Life members living room. This Shabbat, we are going to encourage some more post-dinner singing. My girls are going to sing their hearts out for as long as they would like. Hopefully, it will help to create the Shabbat atmosphere we all know AHA has the potential to have.
What have you done in your own Shabbat communities to create that camp-like Shabbat atmostphere?