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Saturday, March 20, 2010

JOFA reflection

Last week when my friend and I attended the JOFA conference, we both attended a session on "Raising Feminist Children." While there she commented to the group that she is usually the first woman to come to our shul on Shabbat now and that many of the women don't come at all. She talked about going in order to make a difference and to help boys see, too, a woman who valued coming to shul.

I keep remembering her saying that because I felt like I wanted to explain why I don't come early and often don't come at all. Or rather, why I don't anymore. 

In Portland I used to come very early to shul and was often the only woman. I loved it. I loved being special, feeling a little above everyone else, frankly. It was a culture for me not necessarily of spirituality but of halakhic-one-upmenship and I wanted to be in the in-crowd. 

But I'll you the truth, it didn't feel particularly satisfying and in fact I just grew tense from trying so hard to "make it" in a black hat world. I didn't get much from it and didn't feel more connected spiritually. In fact, I got bored and, about an hour into the service when more and more people started to come, I would leave for very long walks and just wish it was all over.

The culture was different when we got to Englewood. I still wanted to be "the woman" that came. It was no longer a culture of even trying to be yeshivish, but I liked to come. I still was the only woman many times, especially on Kabbalat Shabbat. It was lonely and sometimes embarrassing. I learned that one man told his wife he should be like me, which really wasn't fair for me or for her. 

After ND was born I stopped coming on Friday nights, and about a year ago I decided I could make the choice of not coming at all sometimes. I would feel guilty for not coming to shul, but found that some days I just wasn't up for the social hurdles. And the guilt I felt was not related to my relationship with G-d. It was about wanting to do the right thing socially. However nice everyone is, I still find it taxing to trust I'm saying and doing the right thing. It's pathetic, I know, but some days that's just what it's like for me. I discovered that when I stay home I daven more intimately and learn more Torah than I ever accomplish at shul. So, some days I just don't come.

Is this just about my spiritual path, or have I given up something feminist as well? Do I need to make a change? I'm coming to understand more and more in my life that sometimes when I do things, I make a difference just by being seen doing them. Am I losing an opportunity to somehow make a difference in the world by taking this choice? Or am I taking myself too seriously?

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1 Comments:

Blogger Alissa said...

I think maybe you're putting too much pressure on yourself. There's nothing non-feminist about not going to shul, just as I don't think there's anything feminist about going. Honestly, I don't think anyone else sees it as a statement of anything one way or the other.

I used to get there on time (also, frequently being the only woman there for most of the service), but it was strictly for me, not for any other reason. And now, I typically don't go to shul (there are only two shuls - I know! In Israel! - and I find the closest shul too loud and distracting).

Especially based on the pressures you sometimes feel in public, your choices seem to be based on what's right for you. And while there are circumstances when what's best for us as an individual is not what's best for the community, I don't think davening for Shabbat falls into that category. Keep davening in the way that makes you feel most connected, I say.

11:45 AM

 

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