Jewfem Blog

 There I was, counting my change at the check-out counter and making sure the guy was packing my eggs carefully when I was struck by this unbelievable image. Right there in the magazine rack, amongst the air-brushed anorectics meant to look 10 years old, this cover suddenly grabbed my attention and held it. I couldn’t look away. I was positively entranced. What was such a full-bodied, fully-imperfect woman doing posing nude of all places on the cover of At? This mag, the Israeli version of Cosmo, or maybe a bit of Redbook, is the place where women continuously learn that they are never good enough. Not pretty enough, not thin enough, not rich enough, not successful enough, not good enough cooks or good enough mothers or even good enough house cleaners. (Yes, I was shocked to discover that “women’s mags” in Israel have house-keeping sections.) Yet, here in this space something radical is happening. A fat women. Naked. I looked around, wondering if anyone else could sense the change in the air. This is just radical. Did Mashiach come and I missed it? Am I stuck in Seinfeld’s bizarro world? Do I need a new prescription for my glasses? Or am I just dreaming. Wow, something is happening.

My five year old daughter, Meital, recently began singing “A Pirate King” from The Pirates of Penzance. She learned it from a book – well, actually, she learned it from me. We were doing some bedtime reading from a pirate-related children’s book, and in the story, the main character begins singing, “When I sally forth to seek my prey/I help myself in a royal way/ I sink a few more ships it’s true/than a well-bred monarch ought to do.” I’m assuming that the book author did not actually expect readers to know both the melody and the rest of the lyrics to this song. The passage was just sort of stuck in the book, set apart from the text, one of those italicized poems that it is assumed modern readers will skip and move on. But the author I guess didn’t anticipate me. I’ve been singing the Pirates of Penzance since I was 11 years old. By the time I got to the part of the song that goes, “For I am a Pirate King/ and it is it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king, Yes!” I was dancing around the bedroom waving my air-sword. I admit I’m no Kevin Kline, but Meital, lying in bed way past her bedtime, smiled and said, “Do it again!” We have been singing sections of the Pirates of Penzance ever since, with a little help from the magic of YouTube, and it is, it is a glorious thing. Yes!

As I watched the violence in Jerusalem over the past weeks and listened to the accompanying rhetoric, I thought about Stanley Milgram. A social psychologist who studied patterns of human conformity (that is, why people tend to follow group behavior), Dr. Milgram conducted the famous experiments about “obedience to authority”, in which he pretty easily got people to administer presumably life-threatening electric shocks to other people just by telling them that they had to. “The experiment requires that you continue,” he told his subjects, who listened to the screams of those receiving the shocks (well, actors, unbeknownst to the shocker). “It is absolutely essential that you continue,” he would say, or, “You have no other choice, you must go on.” In a surprise even to himself, 65 percent of experiment participants administered the experiment's final 450-volt shock – a statistic that was replicated in later studies around the world. Only one participant absolutely refused to administer shocks before the 300-volt level. Moreover, according to Philip Zimbardo, none of the participants who refused to administer the final shocks insisted that the experiment itself be stopped, nor left the room to check on the victim. I’ve been thinking about this as I wonder what motivates throngs of yeshiva students to abandon all human morality and violently destroy a city – their OWN city – and threaten the lives of other human beings, be them police, social service workers, or secular Israelis. I think that part of the answer can be found in Milgram’s analysis of obedience to authority.

My friend Elise Rynhold who works for Orr Shalom sent in this important post. It's a very special organization and I look forward to seeing the exhibition: Orr Shalom, Israel's largest non-profit organization providing out-of-home care and therapeutic services to 1,300 children who have been removed from their homes by the social welfare services due to severe abuse and/or neglect, is showcasing an open-air photography exhibition entitled "Child, Home, Light" at the Tel Aviv Port this summer. The unique exhibition offers a rare glimpse into the world of the children for whom Orr Shalom cares.

Here's a video about the Kolech conference from Jpost, "What to call a woman rabbi?" The answer to me isobvious: call her rabbi! JPost Video: What to call a woman rabbi? Thanks Joel Katz for another great hattip

The rabbinic ordination of women – smicha – is one of the simplest items on the religious agendatoday, according to Rabbi Yoel Bin Nun of Herzog College. Speaking at the Sixth Annual conference of the Kolech Orthodox Feminist institution in Jerusalem this week, Bin Nun argued that there is no problem whatsoever with women getting smicha, and that in fact, quite a few women have served as rabbis in Jewish history. Bin Nun brought examples from Talmudic times through Hassidic life of women who were rabbis in terms of both scholarship and communal leaders, and maintained that there has never been a problem with women's ordination in halakha or in practice.

At tomorrow's Kolech conference, I will have the privilege of speaking on a panel with Rabbi Benny Lau and Sara Evron, moderated by Zeev Kitsis. This particular panel takes a whole new direction in Orthodox feminism by looking not at women and girls but at men. We will be looking, for perhaps the first time at an Ortho-feminist conference, at the adverse impact that entrenched patriarchy has on men. It's not about how male expectations hurt women, but how male expectations hurt men. We will be asking difficult questions about how Orthodox men are educated, and about how men and boys can become trapped in expectations of masculinity. My talk is based on research I did for three years with Orthodox men. I interviewed 54 men who participate in "partnership minyanim" -- that is, the Ortho-egal synagogues in which women are given roles of aliyot, torah reading, and leading non-minyan elements of the service. I chose these men because they are men on the borders between worlds, living in Orthodoxy but looking at feminism. I wanted to know how they navigate gender, identity and religion, and find out from them what life is like on the "other" side of the partition. It was as if, after all these years talking about women's experiences, I was taking the camera lens and switching angles. It's been a fascinating journey. I am now working on revisions to the book I've written about all this,"Stand up and be Counted: Being a Man in an Orthodox World". I don't know when it will be complete, but we're working on it. Meanwhile, in advance of tomorrow's conference, I thought to share here some of the writing, a section of chapter 1, where I explain the rationale behind the research. It's only a small segment and it's not fully tweaked -- and of course, as an advocate of non-spoilers, I don't give away the "ending." Nonetheless, as far as teasers go, it's alright :-) I look forward to feedback, and hopefully to an engaging discussion at tomorrow's session. B'vracha, Elana

Although Kolech is busy gearing up for next week's conference, there is quite a lot of work to be done in theongoing struggle to protect the dignity and basic human rights of women in Israel. Several rabbis this week have issued damning statements undermining women's dignity, including the IDF chief rabbi who said that women should not serve in the army and that his job includes "protecting men" from the influences of women's presence, as well as Rabbi Modechai Eliyahu who encourages his followers not to "try and appease women" (his followers, read, men), and to go to jail rather than listen to women sing. Kolech has formally responded to this week's attack by Rabbi Yehoshua Shapira claiming that Kolech is leading the "neo-Reform" movement with an invitation for courageous and open dialogue. Kolech invites all interested to an evening of learning in the park outside the yeshiva in Ramat Gan (next to Bar Ilan University) on Wednesday, 15 July at 7:30 PM. Details at Elad Kalpan, 0542003113. Kolech would also like to call attention to a few more important issues of the day:

Next week's Kolech Conference is offering a cutting edge array of sessions on issues of gender and Jewish life, including fighting the rabbinic courts through the civil courts, educating religious boys, single motherhood,religious dress, women in the economy, racism within religious feminism, and more. Speakers include noted author Dr. Aviva Zornberg, Mizrahi feminist poet Esther Shekalim, Dr. Gilli Zivan of the Yaakov Herzog Center, and more. English speakers will have the pleasure of listening to some leading figures discuss their important work -- in English. (I'll be speaking at 2:30 -- in Hebrew -- about my research on Orthodox men and masculinities.)

The following article, published in the current issue of The Journal of Jewish Education, explores the difference between education for Orthodox religiousness and education for spirituality. The article, based on bits of my doctoral research, argues that the dogmatic, linear, "you're either in or out" approach that characterizes much of Orthodox education, does not leave much room for spirituality. So often, religiousness is instilled as an end product, a monolithic corpus of ideas to be singularly transmitted and subsequently owned by youth. In reality, though, youth are thirsting for opportunities to grapple, question, and wrestle with profound theological and philosophical issues —a process that ultimately leads to a richer religious identity. Spirituality amid dogma? Some approaches to educating for religious belief within in a State-Religious school in Israel: I like being religious. But sometimes, I hate the way the rabbis preach things. I like to see what’s written, the Mishna, the Gemara, the Torah…and to do what they tell me. But I hate that the rabbis philosophize all the time. I don’t go to any rabbis or anything, I don’t like all that rubbish…. but I am religious the way I think I should be. (Tamar, 14). One Response to “ “Spirituality amid dogma?” Exploring religious education in the Orthodox school system ” # 1 Sneezy Says: July 1st, 2009 at 3:20 pm Elana, you would love the school my daughter goes to. She has really warmed up to “study” this year and commented on her first year in Noga (Bet Shemesh) “they actually allow us to question everything”. I believe she was feeling very closed in her elementary school which narrowed the focus as to what was acceptable by the menahelet. Today, she feels very provoked by her teachers to think out of the box and understand what Yahadoot means to her personally through her learning. In regard to the political realities of our lives I have noticed that she is a news junky like me and therefore, I reluctantly allow her to watch the news. Should I? Still ambivalent about it as today (since the 80s) reports both here and in the US have been one of advocacy and not an objective reporting of facts. In a recent poll more than 88% of reporters were from left of center and more than 94% including editorialists. How is my child getting a fair and objective view of anything? The only way I can filter agenda driven news items is to be a good parent and watch with her. Hopefully she will be as questioning as in school and I can balance the unbalanced world whether it be the classroom or the daily paper. Sneezy (Jay) Regards to Sleepy