“Always thinking, you. Always thinking.”
A friend in graduate school mockingly accused one overachieving friend by telling her she was “always thinking.” Because she was “always thinking,” she came up with creative ideas and solutions to the most mundane and epic of problems.
Earlier this month, I was lucky enough to join my half-time colleagues from the Union for Reform Judaism at URJ Biennial in San Diego, while representing both halves of my job – URJ Camp Coleman and The Davis Academy, a Reform Jewish day school.
Decked out in professional garb (so professional that someone who’d met me last summer didn’t recognize me until I fully identified myself and said, “I know it’s hard to recognize me, as I am usually covered in dirt.”) and armed with an open mind, I stepped into the convention center with wide eyes.
Not raised in the movement, I found it was just like when I first started my job as a Nadiv Educator with the URJ. I was once again being plunged into “Reform Boot Camp.” I found myself “always thinking” thinking like I think at camp. Thinking like I think at school. I was thinking about camp, about school, about partnerships, about old friends and new, about my life before moving to the URJ, and the challenges that continue present themselves in all of our lives. I ran into, met with, and learned from inspirational teachers and role models. I took great pictures and hugged long-lost friends from all over North America. I learned from people who I sought out as role models, and acquired new teachers and friends. Neshama Carlebach wrote about her aliyah to Reform Judaism at Biennial. I’ve been bouncing around in the world Reform Judaism since I started my job. There’s much to learn, and you have to constantly be processing the experience. It’s intellectual. It’s fascinating. And, there’s room for everyone.
So, I was “always thinking” about my big question: What’s going to come back to Georgia with me? There’s the stack of cards from the iCenter for Israel programming. The dance-it-out Shema. The slamming of poetry. The concept of audacious hospitality. The inspiration of every person’s voice in a service attended by 5000 people.
The day after Biennial, I was back at Davis, and meeting with the 3rd graders for Tefillah.
What’s the biggest service you’ve been to?
Was it Yom Kippur? Rosh Hashanah? A bar or bat mitzvah?
I went to services with FIVE thousand people.
Five thousand people.
Five thousand voices.
Every voice matters – your voice matters.
I hope, if nothing else, that I never stop thinking, that WE never stop thinking, and that the Coleman and Davis campers that I teach, directly or indirectly, are always thinking. Always thinking about who and why they are. And always thinking that every voice matters.