By Education Fellow Amanda Winer
I first heard about Women of the Wall as a counselor in training at Eisner Camp in Massachusetts, when the chairperson of the group’s executive board, Anat Hoffman, came to speak to us about her experience in Israel. Women of the Wall, formed in 1988, organizes Torah services on the women’s side of the gender-segregated Western Wall. Their attempts to worship as they see fit, which includes women wearing tallit, at Judaism’s most sacred site have made them the target of lawsuits, arrest, and even verbal and physical harassment. To me, it sounded like a worthy idea, but neither women’s issues nor Israel was my “cause of the moment.” Hoffman also serves as Executive Director of the Israeli Religious Action Center, and that aspect of her presentation was more inspiring to me at the time.
Last Rosh Chodesh (first day of the month), my feelings changed. I was scrolling through Twitter, when a name jumped out at me. Rabbi Elyse Frishman, someone I know, someone whose daughter I shared a bunk with at camp, was among four women detained Friday, December 14th, for wearing a tallis at the Western Wall. Rabbi Frishman, in my experience, is a wonderful rabbi, mother and woman who, in addition to her personal accolades, also edited the Reform prayer book, Mishkan T’filah.
The events surrounding these latest arrests, and the arrest of Anat Hoffman two months ago, brought about an outcry from groups in Israel and the diaspora that promote religious pluralism in Israel. Pluralism, according to Quaker philosopher Parker Palmer, is a three pronged process. First, we must admit that we, both as a people and as individuals, have wants and needs. Then, we must acknowledge that the wants and needs of others may be different, but they are also valid. Lastly, we must decide that there is inherent value in the discussion of the wants and needs of all parties involved. This process makes the seemingly daunting task a bit easier, a bit more real.
After reading that familiar name, Women of the Wall had my attention. I thought about the evolving role of women in Judaism. In the Conservative and Reform movements, and elsewhere, women read Torah, become rabbis and spiritual leaders, and run some of the most philanthropic Jewish organizations worldwide. This is fairly recent. My grandmother, Baba, would never have considered such things at my age; she grew up sitting with her mother on the women’s side of a mechitza. Later, though, she reached a position of leadership within her home synagogue, and on a regional and national level.
I couldn’t shake this. My next thought was about “Southern Belles.” Before I moved to Mississippi, I had in my mind an archetype of what Southern women were like. I pictured The Great Gatsby’s Daisy Buchanan—women who were beautiful, kind with a soft demeanor and a dress straight out of Gone with the Wind. I remember thinking, “I read The Help, I’ve got this.”
Based on my experiences in the past six months, I can say that I was not entirely wrong. Many of the women I have met, both professionally and personally, are beautiful, kind and sweet. There is another amazing aspect to them, though. Southern women are passionate people, with varied interests moving forward in the modern world. They are devoted and steadfast, whether to the Crimson Tide or their local Hadassah chapter. I see this especially in the commitment of Jewish women in the South to their religious communities. In fact, the point person for each of the religious schools that I work with is a woman. Witnessing this level of engagement leads me to think about and participate in gender equality activism in a way that I never have before.
The role of women is constantly evolving, and these women are changing with the times, taking active roles in making their realities the best they can and teaching their daughters and granddaughters about all of the possibilities being a woman can bring. These issues are important, and can and should not be taken lightly.
The biggest question to me is: Is religious pluralism possible? In Israel, the Women of the Wall struggle for a more pluralistic vision of Judaism. In the South, the ISJL’s success in working with communities regardless of denominational affiliation suggests to me that there is hope. Progress will take dialogue, and we see from Women of the Wall and others that a few strong, confident women can make it happen. Learning about the journeys and struggles of women like my Baba and Rabbi Frishman inspires me to love and support all the women in my life. And just like that, I guess I’m becoming a Southern belle!
Hey girl! I read the open letter written to you by that rabbi in Dallas. You know, the one where he claims you’re not really a Jewish woman? ‘Cause apparently unless you’re married (presumably to a dude of Jewish descent), raising Jewish kids, refraining from “making public what is private”… the list goes on and on, but the point is: according to him, you’re not actually a Jewish woman.
And oh yeah, since you’re being cheeky while also not meeting certain critical fertility-related requirements, and therefore are not really a Jewish woman, you MUST REFRAIN FROM co-opting, referring to, or riffing on any “traditional Jewish terminology … because to do so is a lie.”
Like, that video you made encouraging folks to get out to the ballots? “Let My People Vote”? According to the letter, cease and desist, yo! You can’t use phrases like that! They rip off the Bible. You’re not really Jewish, he claims, so you have no right to such sacrilegious wordplay! More than two million views and energizing young voters, be damned! (I mean, for real. That’s what he said. Sigh.)
Well, I understand that religious differences abound. I don’t want to be disrespectful to the Texas rabbi, only two states over from me as I sit here in Mississippi. Instead, I wanted to reach out to you, to let you know that I feel your pain. ‘Cause according to him, I’m not a Jewish woman, either. Maybe I’m really a small Irish boy who practices Jain! Who knows? I am not what I thought I was!
I’m afraid a mass identity crisis may well be on the horizon. Because I’m pretty sure a lot of us ladies who thought we were Jewish – snarky, single-past-30, social-justice-oriented – just learned that we’re outta the tribe.
I guess what I’m saying is, I’m in your tribe.
So, um, what are you doing next week? Want to go get some coffee and compare comedy bits and dating advice? We can meet up wherever it is that the tribe of Make-’Em-Laugh-and-Make-a-Difference, Oops-Always-Thought-We-Were-Being-Our-Authentic-Jewish-Selves chicks are allowed to hang out.
(Also, let’s come up with a catchier name for our tribe.)
PS Your dad’s responses to the piece were totally awesome, even if NSFW. Guess that runs in the family! He can be in our club, even if he’s not a Formerly Jewish Woman. I also liked him mentioning your rabbi-sister, who, incidentally, was a mentor of mine in college. Small world, huh?