Investing in the future of Judaism

Though every single one of my great-grandparents were Eastern European Jews, the closest I came to dating within my religion was a guy with one Jewish parent and a quasi-agnostic upbringing. I wasn’t avoiding Jewish prospects – there were none. Sure, there were perfectly lovely kids in my Jewish elementary school who grew up to be quite attractive adults, but after the playground scuffles and awkward teen years, I may as well have dated cousins as any of them.

In fact, for most Jews outside of major cities, it’s often a choice between dating outside the home market or outside the faith. For me, it was a no-brainer; though it was always important to me that my dating partners, and now my husband, respect my Jewish heritage, it was never important to me that they share it.

So now I am part of the statistic stating that nearly half of all American Jews have non-Jewish spouses. For decades, Jewish leaders have been concerned that marriages like mine might lead to the eventual disappearance of Judaism if we choose our spouses’ religion over our own, a relevant concern for a group that constitutes roughly 0.2 percent of the world’s population.

It is this concern, at least in part, that has inspired rabbis across the country to team up with the popular Jewish Internet dating service, JDate, as reported in last week’s Newsweek. Though I am clearly seen as part of the problem, I can understand where they’re coming from. As Yiddish and Klezmer music threaten to vanish with my grandparents’ generation, it’s hard not to be a little concerned about the future of our culture.

Do I harbor any feelings of guilt for my marital choice? Not a one.

You see, I think the issue at hand is not that I was married in a secular ceremony rather than under a chuppah. I think the issue is what I choose to do with my Jewish identity once settled into married life. Even more to the point, I think the issue is whether I would raise my children Jewish.

With only pets for kids, the question remains rhetorical, but even before my marriage vows, even before I met my husband, my answer was, and is, a resounding yes. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my older siblings, who are both in interfaith marriages, are raising their children with strong Jewish identities. In fact, it may just be that my nieces and nephews benefit from having a non-Jewish parent who acts as a constant reminder that we live in a diverse world, and that we can be firmly rooted in our own beliefs and cultures without demeaning others.

So, the question remains: how do we create that sense of investment in the future of Judaism?

I think we must start by accepting that a percentage of the population has permanently abandoned the notion that shared religion is a prerequisite to marriage. And then we must create opportunities to learn Yiddish and to experience Jewish music, literature and arts. Most importantly, we must create a space in which disconnected Jews – regardless of who, or even if, they marry – can fill the gaps in their Jewish knowledge, helping them get over the discomfort of having forgotten their Hebrew school lessons and inviting them to create new traditions of their own.

I may have a gentile as my partner, but I have a mezuzah on my door. The beauty of modernity is that one needn’t diminish the other.

Christmas debate season

Yup, it is, indeed, that time of year again, when we must debate the extent to which it is appropriate to celebrate Christmas in public. Shall we treat this season like a throw-back to 2004, when people were horrified that non-Christians were largely unwilling to put on a happy face and play along? Or shall we make this one of those years where we embrace the amazing diversity of our country and allow room for the many non-Christians to abstain from celebrations without feeling conspicuous and bad?

A Jewish woman recently told me that every office door in her place of business is covered with Christmas decorations. Every door but, of course, hers. So, she is left to react in one of the following ways:

1. Decorate her door with Christmas stuff, which, as a person who is proud and uncompromising in her Jewish heritage, she would never do
2. Decorate her door with Hanukkah stuff, which would also be a compromise since Hanukkah is a seriously minor holiday without any inherent decor (i.e. anything she put up would be some sort of imitation of Christmas stuff, like blue and white twinkle lights or a Hanukkah bush)
3. Leave her door undecorated and therefore remain conspicuous for the remainder of the season

Of course, there is an unfortunate lack of room for compromise here. Either the majority of the staff doesn't get to publicly display their Christmas cheer or this one woman must spend an uncomfortable couple of months. I suppose as a Jew, it would be hard for me to understand why such a holy Christian holiday would be reduced to a debate about inflatable desk ornaments and faux-pine door wreaths... But, as Penelope Trunk said today on her blog, "The only people who think Christmas is not religious are Christians."

Winter Walk 07

I've written about the Winter Walk for AIDS a time or two before. With yesterday's temperate weather and the shortening of the walk from five to three miles a while back, this year's walk stood in stark contrast with the first time I participated in 1996. The walks were still in the morning then, and that particular morning was nearly freezing with a mist of drizzle. We had fun walking that day - we felt good about walking - but the bitterness of the morning seemed to suit the disease we were fighting. It felt like an appropriate challenge (though a symbolic and, of course, terribly minor challenge) to brave the weather.

This year felt more like a stroll with friends. It was, in fact. We arranged to meet with several friends and found several more along the way. One friend picked me up and swung me around, a reassuring reminder of his strength and health (I'm nowhere near petite) even in the face of his relatively recent HIV diagnosis.

People are living longer, healthier lives with HIV/AIDS than ever before. It is a testament to the scientists working towards better treatments and the agencies, like the walk organizers, Triad Health Project, that provide support services for those living with the disease. But, as we were reminded with the reading of a list of THP clients lost in the last year, people are still dying of this preventable disease.

Those who walked yesterday give me hope, though. The crowd was diverse in age, ethnicity and (presumably) sexual orientation, but the bulk was made of area college students - a group of people that I believe has the most power, right now, to spread the message of prevention through safe sex (abstinence being only one method of prevention). Perhaps some of them will even enter the labs to continue the work towards a cure. I was also pleased to see a contingent of young Jews from the American Hebrew Academy and Temple Emanuel. I was raised to believe that social action is an important part of Judaism; it seems these kids have been taught the same.

We did miss the A&T drumline starting the walk, as they have done every previous year I've participated, and Cakalak Thunder, who also usually makes an appearance. (No offense, UNCG drumline - I admire the chutzpah the seven of you showed.) I was also disappointed to see that at least one local anti-war group decided to exploit the gathering to spread their own messages. While I would love to see impeachment be the first of many punishments Bush has to suffer, yesterday wasn't about politics or personal agendas - it was about supporting people with a disease, and raising money for the agencies that help keep them living longer, healthier, happier lives. I think if HIV/AIDS activism were as high on their priority list as their sign and flyers would have the crowd believe, I would have seen them at previous Winter Walks, but, alas, no.

All in all, it seemed to be another successful Winter Walk, hopefully bringing a little more awareness to the local community and acting as a reminder that it is through hope, not fear, that we will conquer HIV/AIDS.

Blog hiatus

I didn't actually intend to take a blog hiatus... I have a half-dozen reasons why my blog has laid mostly fallow for the last three weeks or so, but since they're not even interesting to me, I won't bore you with them. I can only hope that my inactivity hasn't annoyed you into deleting my bookmark.

Since my last actual post (I don't consider copying and pasting my column to be real posting):

• My first issue of Shalom Greensboro came out and looks beautiful, for which I have taken a lot of credit that rightly belongs to my advertising manager, Dianne Hines, and my graphic design person, Kory Burgess.
• I heard Ruth Messinger, the president of the American Jewish World Service, speak and was inspired by her ability to see the worst travesties on earth and still be able to say, "All I see everyday is individuals making positive change in their communities."
• Went back to my dentist, Dr. Margaret Szott, for the first time in a couple of years and was reminded what really great patient care and customer service looks like... and that I have acidic, cavity-causing saliva...
• I participated in Farmers Appreciation Day at the Greensboro Farmers' Curb Market, a wonderful community event organized by Donna Myers of EpiCourier Online Magazine
  
• And, last night, went to the hilarious taping of Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me, at Wake Forest University. Chris Paul, a Winston-Salem native and NBA star, was the special guest and proved that even young, rich athletes can be amazing, giving human beings.

It's been a stressful, amazing, packed few weeks, but I missed you and will try to be a more consistent blogger. Thanks for sticking with me... if you did...

Conversion in the mail

I was sitting on my piano teacher's stoop when his daughter became the first person to attempt to convert me. I was maybe 10, probably a little younger. Being a Jew in the South can become its own informal social experiment, from the people who say anti-Semitic things without once considering I might be Jewish (despite my stereotypically Jewish looks) to the reactions of people who do realize. Of course, the interesting parts are the exception, not the rule. In my experience, people most often fall into the spectrum that ranges from "slightly intrigued" to "doesn't care in the least".

After a recent mention of a new job as editor Shalom Greensboro, though, a reader sent me a magazine called the Levitt Letter, on the cover of which is printed:

Brethren, my heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is that they might be saved. - Romans 10:1

The editorial content followed suit: extremely pro-Israel and pro-Jewish but with a condescension that is akin to humoring kids who think car washes have magic soap that can clean the interior of the car through the windows.

As I said in my letter to the woman who sent me the magazine, (in a much more polite way... though I may have blown that with this post) it takes some serious chutzpah to think you can convert a people who have resisted centuries of conversion attempts, many of which included a death penalty for noncompliance.

I appreciate that the Levitt folks are trying to love us to conversion, rather than some of the more aggressive tactics taken over the years, but "hugging it out" isn't going to be any more effective than the stuff the KGB threw at us. Sorry.

Jewish/Muslim relations in Greensboro

I was just reading the weekly bulletin from Beth David Synagogue - within the list of those who could use get-well prayers and wishes, my friend Masoud was listed (he is my friend, but I did not submit his name). Masoud and his wife, Annah, are Palestinian Muslims and, even more importantly, wonderful, kind, loving people. Much like the time I walked into their restaurant to find them chatting with Rabbi Koren from Temple Emanuel, this simple acknowledgment of the health of our friend struck me as contrasting so greatly with the state of affairs between Muslims and Jews in the Middle East.

I wish we could bottle these amazing inter-faith feelings here and sprinkle them like fairy dust over the Middle East.

Mitzvah Day

Rob and I participated in Mitzvah Day, an annual event during which the Jewish community spreads out to wreak good on Greensboro. Though the Hebrew word mitzvah literally means "commandment," it is most commonly used to mean a good deed - and though Rob and I are far from religious people, we like to do good now and then, to balance our sinful ways.

What appeared to be several hundred people gathered at Temple Emanuel this morning to embark on mitvah opportunities from visiting shut-ins to restocking the ReStore to what we did, which was manual labor at Bicentennial Garden. We pulled vines and spread mulch and likely horrified the one family not related to us in the group - typical of my family, my sister and her family, our mother and Rob and I teamed up and a morning of smart-assedness ensued. The non-related family smiled sweetly at us but there's no telling what the conversation at their house sounds like right now...

But we did get a lot done and are pleased to say the creek bed looks lovely with its renewed mulching. It was particularly satisfying to spend a morning beautifying a park that I have enjoyed my whole life, back when it was a tiny little thing, not nearly as developed and beautiful as it is today. It's easy to forget, having always lived in Greensboro, how lucky we are to have so many beautiful public spaces.