Me, An Very Educated Secular (Spiritual) Jew
I’ve gone to Jewish day school all my life — so how did I turn out like this?
I understand how this could anger people. I mean, just the mere fact that my parents unloaded a fortune of money into my Jewish eduction just for me to reject it all (most of it, at least)? I could have saved them a whole lot of debt by just speeding up the process and going to public school. Instead, I allowed myself to be boxed into the Conservative/Modern Orthodox Jewish bubble, knowing full well that I didn’t belong to either denomination. I can’t really explain why I remained in a place I didn’t feel connected to — fear of new environment, maybe? Actually, probably.
Back up! Let’s start all the way from the beginning. For many, many years I’ve hid a huge part of my Jewish identity from different people in my life. I guess it was the shame and the embarrassment, because I’d never really gotten a positive reaction from my peers when they found out. Obviously, it has to do with my parents. What else could be more embarrassing? But now, I’m finally ready to own it, because I’ve come to the conclusion that my parents aren’t me and don’t reflect what I believe as religious or spiritual person. So here goes.
My mother is a female rabbi. She was part of the first class of women ordained in the Jewish Theological Seminary. She’s been part of the Jewish educational world ever since then. She’s transitioned to more of an administrator over the years and now just uses her title professionally. But that doesn’t detract from the fact that she is a rabbi.
Let me clear some things up. No, she’s not a hippie. Maybe a little, but not what you’re picturing. She’s also not a lesbian (I don’t know why I’ve gotten that assumption many a time). She is a feminist, but she is not obnoxious or a man-hater. If you’d see her in the street, you’d have no idea she was a rabbi. Maybe because she lacks the “black and white plus beard” attire, but either way, you’d never know. Even speaking to her, she comes off as more of a businesswoman than a rabbi.
So, having this influence in my life was always interesting. She never forced any of her beliefs on me, which I’m forever thankful for. I had a very normal Jewish childhood. I started my education as a Sephardic yeshiva, Ben Porat Yosef, then transferred to Solomon Shechter Day School of Bergen County (where I was warmly embraced my the my Israeli brothers and sisters), and ultimately ending my elementary schooling in Yavneh Academy. Now, I’m finishing my senior year at Frisch.
Okay so three out of the four are Modern Orthodox yeshivas. How did the daughter of a female rabbi and a secular Israeli end up so entrenched in Modern Orthodoxy? And even more, how did she come out exactly as she entered?
Well, that’s not true. I’m not exactly the same as I entered. Yes, I guess you could say I was a secular Jew when I entered, but I knew as much as anyone else. But now, I’m a secular Jew with the knowledge of a yeshiva student.
I’ve struggled with this consistently since the 6th grade. I entered Yavneh Academy and was greeted by a completely new world. I had been to yeshiva before, but I hardly remembered what it was like. I felt very isolated and different — there really wasn’t anyone there like me. Even the Mizrahi students consisted of me and maybe two other students. I felt the urge to conform as a way to make the place more comfortable. It’s typical of human nature, so that’s exactly what I did. I began to speak out to my parents and tell them they were “doing Judaism wrong” and that my mother “wasn’t a real rabbi” and my father was “blatantly trespassing God”. I created a persona of myself: the good Modern Orthodox girl from Teaneck, New Jersey. Little did everyone know, I wasn’t keeping Shabbat (the Sabbath) at all and I was hardly keeping kosher either.
Once I got to high school, it began to change. I finally felt more open to express who I really was as a Jew. I was able to take the mask off and not fear judgment. Slowly, I’ve come to become comfortable with who I am as a Jew. Five years ago if you asked me if my mother was a rabbi, I would have given you a round-about answer. Sometimes I still might, as a force of habit. But I’m not longer ashamed, because my mother isn’t me. I’m open to talking about religion with anyone and how I make it meaningful to me.
I think the most important thing I’ve learned from the Modern Orthodox world is to think for yourself. I’ve been constantly challenged to come up with a new explanation for something in the religious text or to refute a commentator’s opinion. Many of those who look from the outside view Modern Orthodoxy as a very homogenous and rigid group, but as someone who has a foot in both doors, I can attest to the fact that that is not true. I have learned so much from my past seven years in yeshiva and I am so thankful for that. I wouldn’t change it for the world, actually. I know that I’m making the conscious decision to follow a different path, but I least I know how to get back if I want to. I might not pray every day or go to synagouge every Saturday, but I am a deeply spiritual person (as paradoxical as that might sound to my previous statements) and I have the Modern Orthodox world to thank for that.
As I’m writing this, I’ve become uncomfortable labeling myself as a secular Jew. I feel very constrained my labels, especially when it comes to religion. Instead, I am a Jew. A spiritual Jew. A Jew that believes in God. Most importantly, a Jew who creates a relationship with God in a way that is meaningful to her.
I want to thank my parents (especially my Ima) and all the schools that I have attended for equally influencing my religious identity. As I’m on the journey, having been exposed to different practices of Judaism makes my religion all the more meaningful.