Looking back

Shira over at from the rib? gave this great article that really got me thinking about the past. I know that I have always been a feminist, but in a weird way, I was a traditionalist too. Those two don't really go hand in hand, but I think it's from my experiences as a child that I was slightly messed up.

I grew up at the Temple my grandparents founded. I knew everyone there. I seem to recall going to Friday night services and wanting to go to the Oneg (dessert) with a friend that was there as well but having trouble getting to the room because I had to stop to say hello to everyone I knew. Sweetie has often remarked that I know everyone there as well.

Kids seem to have a hard time during the summer without camp and so the summer before 5th grade we found a new camp in the area. It was a Jewish day camp run by a Hassidic day school. We went to the orientation and the camp seemed like so much fun so, I signed up.

It was not at all what your other camps were like. I had been to the camp at my temple and would later go on to sleep away Jewish camps. But this was different. Each morning, the boys and girls went to different sides of the camp and we started with davening (prayers) and then went off to arts and crafts, sports, the game room, whatever. We went on tons of trips, whether it was an overnight or a trip to the zoo. My first experience with Six Flags was with this camp as was my first (and only) experience with camping.

I memorize things very well and had just completed my first year of Hebrew school so I could read Hebrew. At my temple, I had learned that there was a letter, a tav ת, that sounded like a "t." Well, at camp, I learned that if there was a dot in the middle of the tav, it sounded like a "t." But if there was no dot, it was a sav and thus sounded like an "s." No big deal right? Wrong.

As camp ended, my mom could see changes in me. Changes I know she didn't like. But the fact still remained that I was changed. I know I came home at one point (not quite sure when) and told her we weren't Jewish enough or that we were Jewish wrong. I know she was incredibly hurt by this because she had done her best to instill good Jewish values. I had gone to religious school since Kindergarten and before that, I went to the Preschool at my temple. She never let on how hurt she was but I know now that it killed her to send me back there every day. And not just every day, but for two years after that! I loved the camp and never felt like because I didn't dress like they did (in traditional Orthodox attire [covered elbows, ankles and collar bones in skirts only]) that they thought of me any less. I knew I was learning a LOT about Judaism and it was important to me.

After camp, I distinctly recall being at High Holiday services and being louder than I needed to be showcasing that I was saying the sav, not the tav. I remember my mom shushing me, telling me I was being too loud, but I didn't care. At the time, I knew she was embarrassed because I was better at Judaism than her. And what a terrible thing to think!

When I was in 6th or 7th grade, we got new prayer books at the temple. These included the matriarchs (as Shira posts about) in the Amidah, the central portion of the prayer service. Having always been a feminist, my friends were shocked when I chose not to participate in reciting their names. I remember telling them that I preferred the way it had been, that I was a traditionalist. I also recall that I refused to read the English, preferring the Hebrew because it was Hashem's (literally translated as The Name, another name for Adonai) language, even though I basically had no idea what it meant. I immersed myself as much as I could, trying to learn bits and pieces of Hebrew and what the words meant.

I also knew that I had to say my morning prayers, or else anything bad that happened in the world I knew was my fault. If I forgot to wash my hands and say the correct prayer, the evil nishama (I had learned that when you sleep, your soul goes to be with Hashem but an evil soul replaces it or else you would die), which had left through my fingertips, could get back into my body. And by the way, this is not something that I alone feel. I have spoken with other people who went to the same camp and said the same thing.

Now this is not meant as a bash on that specific group of people or even on the Hassidic group as a whole. Its simply my experiences and looking back at where I have come from. I now know in my heart that the matriarchs were just as important as the patriarchs, sometimes more so. When Rebekkah knew which son was to carry on the Jewish tradition, she took action. When Sarah knew the same thing, she took action as well. And the women in our stories sometimes play larger and more impressive roles than the men.

Now, I know it's not a competition, but a small part of me sort of wishes it was. That way, we could show people of all faiths that women are not things to be put in corners, covered up, and should be allowed to learn just like their male counterparts are allowed to.