Earlier this week, Stefanie Pervos Bregman, the editor of Living Jewishly, wrote about engaging 20- and 30- somethings in the Jewish world and Rabbi Jason Miller wrote about exploring commonalities between religions. Today we hear from Living Jewishly contributor Rivka Nehorai.
And I thought that I should embrace my youth and hold onto it for dear life
until the wheel passed.
No one ever warned me
that becoming a mom is that much cooler,
in which your level of control and insight, wisdom and laughter
expands beyond yourself and your own dreams
into this greater complex organism.
No one ever whispered
that pregnancy was wild,
squirmy little baby within,
no need for air, thank you very much, just squirming around.
I made that, I laugh smugly to myself. Cool! (With help from the One Above, etc)
And I wonder- Why all the secrets? Why all the hushhush? Why pretend that college life is the best, or young and free is the ideal?
It’s not true, I tell you, it’s a lie, a lie that’s spreading across America.
I can assure you, I am much cooler now than I ever was then. With droplets of time for myself, a whole new mission, and a new direction and explosion in life.
Spread the word.
As a Jewish blogger and editor, I always say that the period leading up to Jewish Book Month is one of my favorite times of the year. So many books come across my desk for review—I only wish I had the time to read them all. Each author, each new book, is not just a potential article for my magazine or blog post. To me, every author—whether they write fiction or non-fiction— is a storyteller, adding their own piece to our collective Jewish story.
This year the tables have turned, and I’m the one hoping and wishing that Jewish editors and writers will choose my book from among the great pile for review—the thought makes me feel proud, humble and frightened all at once.
In putting together my new anthology, Living Jewishly: A Snapshot of a Generation, I hoped to be a storyteller as well. In the Jewish world, engaging 20- and 30-somethings is a hot button issue—questions like ‘How do we get young Jews to feel connected to Israel? To affiliate with traditional Jewish institutions? To care about Jewish continuity, ritual and tradition?’ float around waiting to be answered.
As a member of this elusive generation myself, I live and breathe these questions in my personal life and as a Jewish professional. As I recently completed my master’s degree in Jewish professional studies, I became determined to tell the story of my generation.
To get started, I sent out a call for stories to my peers:
Are you a Jewish 20- or 30-something with a story to tell? Do you want to be part of a collection of voices that together tell the unique story of our generation?
Within hours, my email box was flooded. I received close to 50 submissions—all remarkable, rich and more diverse than I could have ever imagined.
In Living Jewishly, I put these essays together to create a window into our Jewish lives and identities. Each essay is beautiful, unique, brutally honest and revealing. In truth, it is my contributors who are the real storytellers—without them, the story, the picture, would not be complete.
I often think about what it means to really be a storyteller. To me, this is not a title to be taken lightly. With it comes certain responsibility, not just to inform, but to do so artfully, shedding light on topics that may otherwise have been left untold.
While I don’t think I’ve solved the mystery of my generation, I do have some insights into the types of stories we want to tell. However it is that we express ourselves Jewishly, I’m certain that every Jewish 20- or 30-something has an interesting story to tell—and maybe all we need is the opportunity to tell it.