Author Archives: Rori Picker Neiss

Rori Picker Neiss

About Rori Picker Neiss

Rori Picker Neiss is the Director of Programming, Education, and Community Engagement at Bais Abraham Congregation in St. Louis Missouri, and will be graduating from Yeshivat Maharat in June 2014.

No More Whispers

Zemanta Related Posts ThumbnailWhat can happen when we take mikvah out of the realm of the hidden, and bring it into a space where we can engage in an open, honest, safe dialogue? What can exist when we are able to share our feelings around mikvah, and the laws and rituals that surround it, without the fear of being judged or stigmatized? What is created when we can ask questions about subjects that are usually deemed too personal or too embarrassing to discuss with others?

In my experience, the product is a space like no other. A space in which men and women can feel supported and affirmed, while making themselves open and vulnerable, and, as a result, re-explore and re-evaluate their mikvah practices—and, by extension, potentially their niddah (the laws relating to sex and menstruation) practices, sexual practices, and intimate relationships.

This past December, I had the incredible privilege to lead a session at the 8th International JOFA Conference with Sarah Mulhern which sought to answer the questions listed above. The session, entitled “No More Whispers,” used anonymous polling technology to allow the participants to respond to questions via text message  and watch the answers appear instantaneously on the screen. This technology allowed a large group of people to participate in a single discussion while also respecting the sensitive nature of the subject. To quote Sarah: “Just because I won’t tell you when I am going to the mikvah or who I see there doesn’t mean I cannot tell you about my experiences and feelings around it.”

By the end of the session, it was apparent to those of us in the room that the power of the space, and the desire for the discussion, extended far beyond those of us participating in that particular discussion. Using the anonymous polling software, we asked everyone if they were comfortable having their (anonymous) responses shared with the broader public, and the answer was a unanimous yes.

More so than any commentary I can overlay, some excerpts from the discussion speak for themselves:

“The mikveh lady is small, with terrible posture and is wearing a snood. She has seen hundreds, maybe thousands, of bodies. Her job is to get them all this mitzvah, and while she’s at it, to hold all the secrets of our bodies. She’s maybe the most powerful woman in this neighborhood.”

What burning topic/question related to mikvah have you never felt comfortable discussing publicly?

 

Mikvah-webinar-cover1We will be continuing this conversation via webinar on Wednesday night, July 9th at 8 pm EDT. To join us, register for MikvahChat: An Open, Honest, Anonymous, Online Conversation About Mikvah, Niddah, and Sex. 

Posted on July 7, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

Learning and Re-Learning How to Leyn

Potluck MinyanThis blog post was written shortly after Purim 2013. If you’re reading megillah this year and need help learning the tune, check out JOFA’s Megillat Esther App. To catch up on last Purim’s other blog posts, follow these links: A Visit to Shushan, Purim in Hollywood, St. Louis Women Write a Megillat Esther, and An Adar of Anticipation.

I took a deep breath and looked around the room. There were more faces looking back at me than I had ever seen in my living room previously. Bodies overflowed into the dining room, kitchen, and hallway. Many of the people were familiar, but many were new; friends and family who heard about our megillah reading.

I felt my stomach knot up. This was the sixth year that we were hosting a Megillat Esther reading, and no matter how many times I have done this and how much time I spent preparing the first chapter, I always forgot the nusach (tune) of the brachot (blessings) said before the reading. Each year I would run over to someone and have them sing the blessings to me before beginning. This year had been no different.

With my friend’s voice fresh in my mind, I opened my mouth and began, making sure to be loud enough to be heard in the other rooms. I said the first bracha (blessing)–al mikrah megillah (on the reading of the megillah)– and heard a resounding amen. “Close enough,” I thought of my rendition. I took a breath and began again, the second bracha– she’asa nissim l’avoteinu (who performed miracles for our ancestors)– rushing through the myriad of words in the hopes of masking the fact that I did not know the tune. The blessing was met with another loud amen. I thought to myself, “two down, one to go” and I began the third bracha– the shehechiyanu (who has given us life). Somewhere in the midst of saying the blessing, my tune began to change. As I sang the final words, I realized that I was singing them to the tune traditionally used on Hanukkah.

I listened to the final amen resonate throughout the rooms of my home, and I laughed quietly to myself. I immediately felt my stomach unknot and my shoulders relax. I smiled. I had done it. I had made the first mistake of the evening. And with it out of the way, we were now ready for any mistakes that might follow. And thus I began leyning (reading) the first chapter of Megillat Esther.

To be sure, the goal of our megillah reading is not to make mistakes. Everyone who leyns practices long and hard to try to avoid errors as much as possible. But we all do make mistakes. And for me, that is the beauty of our megillah reading. It is about creating a warm, welcoming, safe space for anyone who wants to read from the megillah– male or female, young or old, experienced or novice. It is about a space where anyone is welcome and everyone can participate. It is about individuals being empowered in their own Judaism, to engage with the faith and ritual directly and make it personal and meaningful for them.

As I finish the final words of my chapter, “umedaber k’lishon amo,” I reflect on the meaning of the words, “and speak the language of his own people.” In the context of the story of the megillah, these words are not favorable– they reflect a policy in which men are given supreme authority over their wives and can speak a language that might be foreign to their partners. But as I step aside to allow the next reader to begin his chapter, the words take on different meaning for me. I watch reader after reader step forward to leyn the chapters they had prepared. I listen to ancient words chanted b’khol lashon– not in every language, but in every voice. The lilt of each voice is different, the tunes of the trop (cantillation) change slightly, pronunciations vary. But the words are the same as they have always been. In this moment, they are ours; truly ours. It is powerful. And it is beautiful.

For an online directory of megillah readings around the world or to download JOFA’s Megillat Esther app, visit the Project Esther homepage.

Posted on February 5, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

Signing in Solidarity

This piece was submitted on Friday, January 31, 2014. The event took place on Sunday, January 26.

When a couple gets divorced, the husband must provide the wife with a get (Jewish writ of divorce). If he refuses to grant her this document, she remains “chained” to the marriage, unable to re-marry. A woman in this situation is called an agunah.signing divorce papers 

Something incredible happened last Sunday night.

Three Modern Orthodox synagogues in St. Louis– Bais Abraham Congregation, Young Israel of St. Louis, and Nusach Hari-B’nai Zion– joined together to sponsor an event to raise awareness about the plight of agunot and to encourage couples to sign the halakhic postnuptial agreement. Featuring keynote speaker Rabbi Yona Reiss, Av Beit Din (Head of the Rabbinic Court) of the Chicago Rabbinical Council and former director of the Rabbinical Council of America, the event highlighted the abuse suffered by women in the Orthodox community when their husbands refuse to give them a get, whether to use it as leverage in the divorce proceedings or merely as a conduit to exert power.

On Sunday we came together as a community. We recognized a communal problem. And we worked together for a communal solution.

The halakhic prenuptial agreement – or postnuptial agreement, for those like myself who were already married without signing the prenuptial agreement – is currently the best solution to prevent future agunot. The agreement outlines that in the event of a divorce, the couple agrees to resolve any disputes related to the get before the religious court (in our case, the Beth Din Zedek Ecclesiastical Judicature of the Chicago Rabbinical Council) and that the husband obligates himself to support his wife in the amount of $150 per day, adjusted for inflation, from the time that they cease to live together as husband and wife for as long as they remain religiously married.

Thirty-one couples signed the postnup document on Sunday night, and another twelve who were unable to attend the event committed to signing the document.

Keren and Gabe Douek will be married for ten years this August. They attended the event with their four-year-old son Joel and two-month-old son Oliver in tow. “It is so painful to read stories of husbands abusing their wives and keeping this last element of control over them by refusing to give the get,” Keren said. “The postnup is a concrete step we can take towards a real solution, instead of just sharing an article on Facebook. I’d like to believe that I would never need my postnup, but Gabe and I felt very strongly that signing one is the right thing to do.”

Annabelle and Ken Chapel also signed the document. “I’m very fortunate. I’m going to be married sixty years,” said Annabelle. “But there are women who are not so fortunate and it is not fair that they are held hostage. This is a way of showing solidarity.”

Though there are eighty-six additional individuals who now have extra legal protection in their marriage, it is really all of our marriages that are now stronger and, indeed, our entire community that benefits. Together we took a stand. Together we shifted the communal norm. Together we declared that we refuse to allow our rituals of marriage and divorce to become a mechanism for manipulation.

Together we said that even one agunah is one too many.

I invite you to join us.

If you’d like to sign your own post-nuptial agreement, click here for the text that this group used or contact jofa@jofa.org for more guidance.

Click here for information about halakhic prenuptial agreements and various resources for agunot.

Posted on February 3, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

The Violation of Dinah; The Violation of our Society

The following is adapted from the drasha (sermon) delivered by Rori Picker Neiss at Bais Abraham Congregation, St Louis, MO on November 17, 2013, Shabbat Parshat Vayeitzei.  Rori serves as Director of Programming, Education and Community Engagement at Bais Abraham as she completes her studies at Yeshivat Maharat.

Come hear Rori Picker Neiss speak at the JOFA conference about new directions for women and mikveh. Register today! http://www.jofa.org/2013conference

Come hear Rori Picker Neiss speak at the JOFA conference about new directions for women and mikveh. Register today!

I used to think that the Torah was a story of God, and, as such, was a story of heroes, of bravery, and of goodness. Perhaps that is how my teachers had wanted me to see it. I learned of the heroism of Noah, who saved humanity from total extinction. I learned of the bravery of Abraham, who argued with God in defense of the wicked people of Sodom and Gemorrah. I learned of the never-ending compassion that God displays towards the Jewish people.

The Torah is not a story of God, though; it is a story of humans. While humans can be heroic, brave, and good, they can also be corrupt, oppressive, and depraved.

There is one story in the Torah in particular that we often slide right past. It is a story we do not like to teach in schools, and one we often do not want to discuss openly. It is a story that is not easy to tell, but one that we need to tell. It is a story of corruption, of oppression, and of depravity. Continue reading

Posted on November 21, 2013

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

Potluck Minyan in Brooklyn Hosts its 6th Megillah Reading

Potluck MinyanI took a deep breath and looked around the room. There were more faces looking back at me than I had ever seen in my living room previously. Bodies overflowed into the dining room, kitchen, and hallway. Many of the people were familiar, but many were new; friends and family who heard about our megillah reading.

I felt my stomach knot up. This was the sixth year that we were hosting a Megillat Esther reading, and no matter how many times I have done this and how much time I spent preparing the first chapter, I always forgot the nusach (tune) of the brachot (blessings) said before the reading. Each year I would run over to someone and have them sing the blessings to me before beginning. This year had been no different.

With my friend’s voice fresh in my mind, I opened my mouth and began, making sure to be loud enough to be heard in the other rooms. I said the first bracha (blessing)–al mikrah megillah (on the reading of the megillah)– and heard a resounding amen. “Close enough,” I thought of my rendition. I took a breath and began again, the second bracha– she’asa nissim l’avoteinu (who performed miracles for our ancestors)– rushing through the myriad of words in the hopes of masking the fact that I did not know the tune. The blessing was met with another loud amen. I thought to myself, “two down, one to go” and I began the third bracha– the shehechiyanu (who has given us life). Somewhere in the midst of saying the blessing, my tune began to change. As I sang the final words, I realized that I was singing them to the tune traditionally used on Hanukkah.

I listened to the final amen resonate throughout the rooms of my home, and I laughed quietly to myself. I immediately felt my stomach unknot and my shoulders relax. I smiled. I had done it. I had made the first mistake of the evening. And with it out of the way, we were now ready for any mistakes that might follow. And thus I began leyning (reading) the first chapter of Megillat Esther.

To be sure, the goal of our megillah reading is not to make mistakes. Everyone who leyns practices long and hard to try to avoid errors as much as possible. But we all do make mistakes. And for me, that is the beauty of our megillah reading. It is about creating a warm, welcoming, safe space for anyone who wants to read from the megillah– male or female, young or old, experienced or novice. It is about a space where anyone is welcome and everyone can participate. It is about individuals being empowered in their own Judaism, to engage with the faith and ritual directly and make it personal and meaningful for them.

As I finish the final words of my chapter, “umedaber k’lishon amo,” I reflect on the meaning of the words, “and speak the language of his own people.” In the context of the story of the megillah, these words are not favorable– they reflect a policy in which men are given supreme authority over their wives and can speak a language that might be foreign to their partners. But as I step aside to allow the next reader to begin his chapter, the words take on different meaning for me. I watch reader after reader step forward to leyn the chapters they had prepared. I listen to ancient words chanted b’khol lashon– not in every language, but in every voice. The lilt of each voice is different, the tunes of the trop (cantillation) change slightly, pronunciations vary. But the words are the same as they have always been. In this moment, they are ours; truly ours. It is powerful. And it is beautiful.

Posted on February 28, 2013

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

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