In my real life, I am about to lose my job. Furious networking and frantic emailing have left me little time to write anything other than job applications and embellishments on my resumé (all job offers welcome). However, I have had a lot of time to think about what the recession means for Orthodox women, and how paid employment differentiates the role of women across various segments of the Orthodox community.
In the charedi community, especially in those sections where the men are in full-time learning, women are childbearing and bringing home the proverbial bacon. They generally have relatively low-paid jobs such as teachers, secretaries, beauty therapists or shop assistants that provide the basic infrastructure for a community to function. Rarely are they in business (unless it's sheitels [wigs] or housecoats) and even the recent Israeli initiatives to provide computer training and jobs found that many women were willing to take lower pay for working in an all-female work environment with flexible hours.
Men in full time learning, teaching in yeshivot or managing religious communal organizations have already started to feel the impact of the increasing numbers of American and European businessmen who can no longer afford to support these institutions across the Jewish world. Even in a good economic climate, most of these men have very few skills that would enable them to get a decent paying job outside the community. By minimizing the value of a secular education, their rabbis have failed to enable these men to provide adequately for their families and have perpetuated their dependency on the tzedakah [charity] of their neighbours (or in England, on the munificence of the welfare state).
The better-educated and savvy women in the charedi community are going to manage this recession by taking second jobs or piecemeal work, while the single working women in the charedi community with no husband or children to support are going to be the most financially secure. Is it too optimistic to think that this economic crisis will force rabbis and educators to re-evaluate the sort of life skills and training they are giving their young boys?
In the modern Orthodox community, there isn't a minyan where a man hasn't lost his job - bankers, lawyers, computer specialists and accountants have had their role as family provider snatched from under their tallis [prayer shawl], leaving many of them feeling emasculated and depressed. For women, the implications of the recession are still evolving - while a few women complained that their husbands had cancelled this year's Pesach holiday to a five-star resort at the Dead Sea, most are being much more careful about what goes in the their shopping trolley. Mothers are distraught as they start cutting back on extra-curricular activities for their children - ju-jitsu, folk guitar and tap dancing are under threat, and in a community that heavily guards the phone number of a good Polish cleaner, a few have taken to cleaning their own bathrooms and ironing their own husband's shirts.
Many of these women are highly-educated professionals who can afford to be full time homemakers while others are underemployed in mildly interesting jobs for a couple of days a week with their earnings reserved for little treats. After relying on their husbands for years, are these women willing to work full-time to support their families? More significantly, after so many years out of the work force, do they have the requisite skills and confidence to find the increasingly scarce jobs that are out there? When things get tough, what sort of role-modelling will these couples provide for their children? Will young girls finally realise that they need to train for careers with serious financial rewards so that they can support themselves in the future?
There is of course the other group of single, divorced or married women who are already working full time, often as the sole breadwinners in their family or as part of couple where two middling incomes are needed to create one almost decent Jewish salary that will enable them to live in the Jewish area, eat overpriced kosher food and send their kids to summer camp. For these women, it's business as usual, juggling work and home, with the sceptre of redundancy hanging over their heads, even though fortunately, many are in teaching, nursing, local council and other public sector jobs where there is greater job security.
Rabbis in every community are tackling the economic crisis according to their community's need - it might be facilitating introductions to potential employers, setting up a discrete emergency fund, calling for simpler simchas or providing some spiritual sustenance during these challenging times. There is much talk of lowering expectations, especially amongst children, and recognising this crisis as a corrective for previous greed and excess (which is extremely annoying as those struggling the most are not those who created nor benefited from this excess or greed).
In what might appear to be unrelated, there is also increasing concern about the number of young people who are going 'off the derech,' and rejecting the Orthodoxy of their parents. Some are motivated by the poverty of their own families and want to escape the inevitable consequences of a poor education and limited contact with the secular world. It strikes me that the fallout from the religious system is less about the big theological questions and more about overcoming deprivation. As long as desire, and not doubt, continues to fuel religious disquiet, the recession will only exacerbate the feelings of hopelessness and cynicism in a failing religious system. And if anyone tries to tell me that the recession is due to the immodest dress of women... well, I may just have to throw my sheitel to the wind.
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Wednesday, 14 January 2009
Trapped by Yichus
Napoleon and his cronies declared, via George Orwell, that ‘All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.’ I have my own version: All Jews are equal, but some Jews have more yichus than others.
Yichus is the delicate tissue paper and silk bows used to wrap up a very ordinary gift. Once the fancy packaging is stripped away, all you’ve got is the very ordinary, and often very disappointing, gift. A distinguished lineage and respectable breeding can make a difference to one’s social standing, and so Yichus is touted by the matchmakers when the boy or girl in question doesn’t have very much to offer themselves. For example, the son of well known Rosh Yeshiva has excellent yichus while the daughter of a Latvian convert to Judaism would have very little yichus. Where serious yichus is at stake, marriages are often about forging dynasties, establishing power bases and consolidating the number of loyal followers.
While many parents regard good yichus of their prospective son or daughter-in-law as a drawcard, it hides the very real failings of some people. Paralysed by their yichus, a young person living in the shadow of their ancestors’ achievements may never amount to much. While they may get the proverbial ‘foot through the front door,’ their accomplishments are often mimized precisely because of the head start granted by their yichus. However, yichus is only one of the components of a successful resume in the matchmaking world. Potential brides are gauged by their beauty and despite all exhortations that a girl’s kindness, modest demeanour and homemaking skills are highly valued, the fact is that unless she is pretty and skinny, her chances of finding a ‘good boy’ are severely curtailed. Unless, of course, she has a rich father – in which case, she can eat as much as she wants.
Traditionally, young men were measured according to their learning prowess. I have always found it strange that the young women only willing to go out with boys ‘in learning’ known to excel in their ‘learning’ even though they are unable to understand what these potential husbands are actually learning because the women were not allowed to study Talmud. How sad that they must rely on other men for an evaluation of their potential spouse’s intellectual capacities.
The contemporary Ba’al Teshuvah movement has impacted on the traditional notions of yichus, given that many young Jews who become observant have actively chosen a life path that is radically different from their parents. The family reputation and lineage of a ba’al teshuvah, although there may have a smattering of rabbis from the shetetls of Eastern Europe, has been ravaged by assimilation and mothers who probably did not attend the mikvah. These blemishes continue to punish the struggling ba’alei teshuvah and often hinder their ability to marry into some of the most prestigious religious families. However, one constant remains – the young pretty woman who becomes religious, and has a wealthy father, will always have less trouble finding a husband than her poorer, plumper sister.
Yichus is the delicate tissue paper and silk bows used to wrap up a very ordinary gift. Once the fancy packaging is stripped away, all you’ve got is the very ordinary, and often very disappointing, gift. A distinguished lineage and respectable breeding can make a difference to one’s social standing, and so Yichus is touted by the matchmakers when the boy or girl in question doesn’t have very much to offer themselves. For example, the son of well known Rosh Yeshiva has excellent yichus while the daughter of a Latvian convert to Judaism would have very little yichus. Where serious yichus is at stake, marriages are often about forging dynasties, establishing power bases and consolidating the number of loyal followers.
While many parents regard good yichus of their prospective son or daughter-in-law as a drawcard, it hides the very real failings of some people. Paralysed by their yichus, a young person living in the shadow of their ancestors’ achievements may never amount to much. While they may get the proverbial ‘foot through the front door,’ their accomplishments are often mimized precisely because of the head start granted by their yichus. However, yichus is only one of the components of a successful resume in the matchmaking world. Potential brides are gauged by their beauty and despite all exhortations that a girl’s kindness, modest demeanour and homemaking skills are highly valued, the fact is that unless she is pretty and skinny, her chances of finding a ‘good boy’ are severely curtailed. Unless, of course, she has a rich father – in which case, she can eat as much as she wants.
Traditionally, young men were measured according to their learning prowess. I have always found it strange that the young women only willing to go out with boys ‘in learning’ known to excel in their ‘learning’ even though they are unable to understand what these potential husbands are actually learning because the women were not allowed to study Talmud. How sad that they must rely on other men for an evaluation of their potential spouse’s intellectual capacities.
The contemporary Ba’al Teshuvah movement has impacted on the traditional notions of yichus, given that many young Jews who become observant have actively chosen a life path that is radically different from their parents. The family reputation and lineage of a ba’al teshuvah, although there may have a smattering of rabbis from the shetetls of Eastern Europe, has been ravaged by assimilation and mothers who probably did not attend the mikvah. These blemishes continue to punish the struggling ba’alei teshuvah and often hinder their ability to marry into some of the most prestigious religious families. However, one constant remains – the young pretty woman who becomes religious, and has a wealthy father, will always have less trouble finding a husband than her poorer, plumper sister.
Monday, 12 January 2009
God Might Save the Queen, but what about Anglo-Jewish women?
It was God Save the Queen that made me giggle. It was Hatikvah that made me glow. But actually, in those few moments between the two national anthems, sung by thousands of Jews at the conclusion of the rally for peace in London's Trafalgar Square, I realized the magic and the madness of Anglo-Jewry. Older British Jews just love being British and they proudly identify with it's pomp and circumstance. Singing the anthem was of course, the right thing to do, expressing our civic duty to show gratitude and appreciation for the fact that Jews have, on the whole, prospered throughout the United Kingdom.
More telling however, was the fact that most of the teenagers standing around me, did not actually know the words to God Save the Queen. Younger Jewish people have a more ambivalent relationship with their British identity - in such a multi-cultural, multi-opportunity land, being British is just one of the many 'Windows' that are open while surfing the net for something else.
When the crowd moved onto Hatikvah, the same teenagers articulated each word loudly and clearly. I smiled to myself - unashamed to declare their Jewish identity, unafraid to sing Hatikvah in London's most public space, these young people are the future of the community. Perhaps they will be able to transfer the unity demonstrated at Trafalgar Square to the breakfast tables of communal organizations, facilitating much more dialogue and understanding between different parts of the community.
So, while the rally ended with a tribute to the dual loyalties felt by British Jews, it started with an announcement that any lost children should be taken to a special meeting place. Such a Jewish rally - all that was missing was another announcement that food was to be available throughout the speeches.
Come to think of it - all that was missing throughout the speeches was a woman. The cast of characters was predictable - leaders of communal bodies, government representatives, religious leaders of other faiths - and not one woman. Is there not one woman in Anglo-Jewry able to represent the community at such an event? It is a shocking indictment of the community and does not bode well for young women who are currently involved in the community as they are more likely to forego any future communal activities if they cannot see any role models.
This was not a religious event, so not even halacha could be hijacked to excuse the absence of women. So the question remains - is there not one woman in Anglo-Jewry considered worthy enough by her male peers to be asked to speak on behalf of the community? Perhaps some women had been asked, but modestly declined, so excuse me if have been unfair. However, next time, if you hear they are looking for a woman speaker, send them my details - I would be not be too modest to accept.
More telling however, was the fact that most of the teenagers standing around me, did not actually know the words to God Save the Queen. Younger Jewish people have a more ambivalent relationship with their British identity - in such a multi-cultural, multi-opportunity land, being British is just one of the many 'Windows' that are open while surfing the net for something else.
When the crowd moved onto Hatikvah, the same teenagers articulated each word loudly and clearly. I smiled to myself - unashamed to declare their Jewish identity, unafraid to sing Hatikvah in London's most public space, these young people are the future of the community. Perhaps they will be able to transfer the unity demonstrated at Trafalgar Square to the breakfast tables of communal organizations, facilitating much more dialogue and understanding between different parts of the community.
So, while the rally ended with a tribute to the dual loyalties felt by British Jews, it started with an announcement that any lost children should be taken to a special meeting place. Such a Jewish rally - all that was missing was another announcement that food was to be available throughout the speeches.
Come to think of it - all that was missing throughout the speeches was a woman. The cast of characters was predictable - leaders of communal bodies, government representatives, religious leaders of other faiths - and not one woman. Is there not one woman in Anglo-Jewry able to represent the community at such an event? It is a shocking indictment of the community and does not bode well for young women who are currently involved in the community as they are more likely to forego any future communal activities if they cannot see any role models.
This was not a religious event, so not even halacha could be hijacked to excuse the absence of women. So the question remains - is there not one woman in Anglo-Jewry considered worthy enough by her male peers to be asked to speak on behalf of the community? Perhaps some women had been asked, but modestly declined, so excuse me if have been unfair. However, next time, if you hear they are looking for a woman speaker, send them my details - I would be not be too modest to accept.
Friday, 9 January 2009
Dear Diary....
Gateshead Jewish Boarding School, not far from the famous Gateshead Yeshiva in the dreary north-east of England, are trying to sell me their 2009 diary. Actually, they are offering two options: the Time Management Desk Diary and the Jewish Woman’s Desk Diary.
While the Time Management Diary is a typical appointment book, the Jewish Women's Diary is in a league of its own, offering me wise sayings from the Sages, household tips, a calendar to help me work out barmitzvah dates and times for davenning - however, daf yomi (the daily page of Talmud it is customary to study) is missing because that would only feature in a man's diary.
I’d be interested to know if there were any consultations with women in the community about what they would find useful in a diary. Perhaps some words of inspiration from some very influential and significant women? What about a list of ‘gemachim’ in the area so that women would know where to borrow essential items? As many of these women with large families work outside the home in order to support their husbands who are learning full time, perhaps some practical tips for juggling the work-home balance would be useful.
Of course, the real question is whether we need a women's diary, and noch, a Jewish women's diary at all.
Would you buy a diary that instructs you to start clearning for Pesach just after Chanukah? I don't think so.
While the Time Management Diary is a typical appointment book, the Jewish Women's Diary is in a league of its own, offering me wise sayings from the Sages, household tips, a calendar to help me work out barmitzvah dates and times for davenning - however, daf yomi (the daily page of Talmud it is customary to study) is missing because that would only feature in a man's diary.
I’d be interested to know if there were any consultations with women in the community about what they would find useful in a diary. Perhaps some words of inspiration from some very influential and significant women? What about a list of ‘gemachim’ in the area so that women would know where to borrow essential items? As many of these women with large families work outside the home in order to support their husbands who are learning full time, perhaps some practical tips for juggling the work-home balance would be useful.
Of course, the real question is whether we need a women's diary, and noch, a Jewish women's diary at all.
Would you buy a diary that instructs you to start clearning for Pesach just after Chanukah? I don't think so.
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Soul for Sale
When Dante Knoxx offered his soul on Ebay for a ‘buy it now’ price of £700,000, I was tempted to bid. Not particularly happy with the state of my soul, I thought it might be a good idea to try someone else’s. However, before I had the time to investigate the reliability, integrity and flexibility of Mr. Knoxx’s soul, Ebay cancelled the listing, apparently citing its policy that they do not sell immaterial items.
In contrast, the frum community is based on selling immaterial things and the prime example is the Yissochar-Zevulun trading relationship, whereby ‘Yissachar’ studies Torah while ‘Zevulun’ earns money to support himself and Yissachar. In effect, the money given to Yissachar buys Zevulun a share of Yissachar’s heavenly rewards for his Torah study. In the past, in a small town where there was one wealthy benefactor and an acknowledged Talmudic genius who needed support, this model may have been successful. However, in contemporary times, the 1:1 relationship has morphed into something totally different. A relatively small number of very generous philanthropists are supporting swathes of yeshiva students in large institutions. However, as they do not have relationships with individual students, their portion of heavenly rewards are harder to track. On the other hand, these wealthy men are buying the time, influence and occasional favour of the roshei yeshiva, all the while holding sway over the material well-being of thousands of young men.
The culture of dependency underpinning the world of full-time learning for men, limited job prospects for women and a minimal secular education for their children was created by the generosity of these ba’alei tzedakah in collaboration with the rabbinic leaders of our age. However, as more and more businessmen and philanthropic foundations succumb to the global economic crisis, the yeshiva world is in danger of imploding. In the dangerous liaisons made with many of these businessmen, it seems that some of the rabbinical leaders may have already sold their soul.
In contrast, the frum community is based on selling immaterial things and the prime example is the Yissochar-Zevulun trading relationship, whereby ‘Yissachar’ studies Torah while ‘Zevulun’ earns money to support himself and Yissachar. In effect, the money given to Yissachar buys Zevulun a share of Yissachar’s heavenly rewards for his Torah study. In the past, in a small town where there was one wealthy benefactor and an acknowledged Talmudic genius who needed support, this model may have been successful. However, in contemporary times, the 1:1 relationship has morphed into something totally different. A relatively small number of very generous philanthropists are supporting swathes of yeshiva students in large institutions. However, as they do not have relationships with individual students, their portion of heavenly rewards are harder to track. On the other hand, these wealthy men are buying the time, influence and occasional favour of the roshei yeshiva, all the while holding sway over the material well-being of thousands of young men.
The culture of dependency underpinning the world of full-time learning for men, limited job prospects for women and a minimal secular education for their children was created by the generosity of these ba’alei tzedakah in collaboration with the rabbinic leaders of our age. However, as more and more businessmen and philanthropic foundations succumb to the global economic crisis, the yeshiva world is in danger of imploding. In the dangerous liaisons made with many of these businessmen, it seems that some of the rabbinical leaders may have already sold their soul.
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
The Pink Blackberry
Frum women dangle. Their car keys, usually attached to photos of their children and grandchildren, their house keys, iPod, supermarket card and gym locker tokens are all hanging off them. In one hand they are holding clunky wallets brimming with credit cards, dry cleaning receipts, parking tickets and cash. In the other, they are clutching onto an important database of sociological data currently held on the SIM card of their mobile phone. Find the phone and you will unlock all the important numbers a woman needs to know: shaytel macher, kosher butcher, mikvaot, rabbi, my cleaner and her sister in Poland
However, one item sits on the other side of the electronic mehitzah - the Blackberry. This symbol of manly achievement eludes most frum women, for it symbolises corporate power and importance. It means you've got a well-paying job.
However, this may all change now that the pink Blackberry has been launched in the UK. If a woman's accoutrements are her calling card, then surely the pink Blackberry will become a lifestyle item for the religous woman allowing her to retain her modest femininity while telling the world that she too, is a very important person with a very busy schedule.
Pink used to be an innocent colour: Barbie dolls, bridesmaids dresses, icing on the birthday cake. Our pinky was for pretending to be posh while holding a cup of tea and we had no idea that a pinko was a communist sympathiser.
How things have changed: now teenage girls around me are fully aware that the pink collar lapel is for breast cancer. Young mothers are dying around them, and many of these teenage girls are involved in charitable efforts to raise mone for cancer research. They also know that lesbians have politicised the color pink, and that the pink pound refers to the disposable income of gay people. So, who is the pink Blackberry really for - drag queens, soccer moms or lipstick lesbians?
Gay issues now have a prominent place on the social agenda. For example, Stonewall, a gay advocacy group recently put posters up all over the London underground railway, "Some people are gay. Get over it." When my children saw this they giggled, and then were embarrassed when they realised that I had also seen it. I am being forced to discuss these issues with my children at a relatively young age, long before they have had a chance to understand their own sexuality, let alone begin to understand how Judaism views homosexuality.
The media is a prominent vehicle for promoting a gay lifestyle: on YouTube, Lizzy the Lezzy, an English-born Israeli is emerging as a gay icon. In her feature, Lizzy the Lezzie does Gay Israel, she poses the question, 'Why is it good to be gay in Israel?' An attractive woman replies, 'Because there are so many gorgeous girls.'
Thousands of young girls are listening to Katy Perry's popular track, 'I kissed a girl.' The lyrics are very provocative and disturbing:
Now I know why some parents only let their children listen to Uncle Moishy.
But I don't live in a bubble and our frum teenagers know a lot more about homosexuality than we can even imagine. The conversation in the religious community tends to focus on male homosexuality, and is usually summed up in a couple of sentences: 'Homosexuality is forbidden by the Torah. You can't be religious and gay.' The fiasco surrounding the Gay parade in Israel, or formal Jewish participation in Gay parades abroad distracts attention from the day to day, and often poignant struggle of religious Jews who realise that they are gay.
I want to know how parents are discussing the complexities of this situation with their daughters, particularly just before they go to 'sem' on their gap year after high school. Eighteen-year-old girls, away from home, are very vulnerable and research has shown a high incidence of eating disorders in the close confines and somewhat pressurized world of the religious seminary. What about sexual experimentation in such an environment where access to boys is usually quite limited? The rules of 'shomer negiah' (the touching of the opposite sex which is forbidden before marriage) certainly don't apply.
Being slightly pinko myself, I try not to judge people's personal relationships and I don't want my children to be homophobic, racist or sexist. If biology is destiny, then surely we are obligated to support a religious person who acknowledges their homosexuality and does not want to lead a double life that will inevitably end in tragedy for all those he or she duped. Nevertheless, a gay religious person is also destined to a life on the margins, whether that be within their own community or when they venture out into the general society that may not understand their religious convictions. Do we want our children to have conventional married lives merely because it removes the angst of not belonging?
So, until our daughters are married they may just have to settle for a pink Blackberry which advertises itself as "the phone that gives you everything you need - without sacrificing everything you want." Yes, the pink Blackberry may just be the man that every single frum woman is waiting for.
However, one item sits on the other side of the electronic mehitzah - the Blackberry. This symbol of manly achievement eludes most frum women, for it symbolises corporate power and importance. It means you've got a well-paying job.
However, this may all change now that the pink Blackberry has been launched in the UK. If a woman's accoutrements are her calling card, then surely the pink Blackberry will become a lifestyle item for the religous woman allowing her to retain her modest femininity while telling the world that she too, is a very important person with a very busy schedule.
Pink used to be an innocent colour: Barbie dolls, bridesmaids dresses, icing on the birthday cake. Our pinky was for pretending to be posh while holding a cup of tea and we had no idea that a pinko was a communist sympathiser.
How things have changed: now teenage girls around me are fully aware that the pink collar lapel is for breast cancer. Young mothers are dying around them, and many of these teenage girls are involved in charitable efforts to raise mone for cancer research. They also know that lesbians have politicised the color pink, and that the pink pound refers to the disposable income of gay people. So, who is the pink Blackberry really for - drag queens, soccer moms or lipstick lesbians?
Gay issues now have a prominent place on the social agenda. For example, Stonewall, a gay advocacy group recently put posters up all over the London underground railway, "Some people are gay. Get over it." When my children saw this they giggled, and then were embarrassed when they realised that I had also seen it. I am being forced to discuss these issues with my children at a relatively young age, long before they have had a chance to understand their own sexuality, let alone begin to understand how Judaism views homosexuality.
The media is a prominent vehicle for promoting a gay lifestyle: on YouTube, Lizzy the Lezzy, an English-born Israeli is emerging as a gay icon. In her feature, Lizzy the Lezzie does Gay Israel, she poses the question, 'Why is it good to be gay in Israel?' An attractive woman replies, 'Because there are so many gorgeous girls.'
Thousands of young girls are listening to Katy Perry's popular track, 'I kissed a girl.' The lyrics are very provocative and disturbing:
I kissed a girl, and I liked it.
The taste of her cherry chapstick.
I kissed a girl, Just to try it.
I hope my boyfriend don't mind it.
No, I don't even
know your name,
It doesn't matter, you're my experimental game,
Just human nature. it's not what good girls do,
Not how they should behave.
I kissed a girl, and I
liked it.
Us girls we are so magical,
Soft skin, red lips, so kissable,
Hard to resist, so touchable. Too good to deny
it...
Now I know why some parents only let their children listen to Uncle Moishy.
But I don't live in a bubble and our frum teenagers know a lot more about homosexuality than we can even imagine. The conversation in the religious community tends to focus on male homosexuality, and is usually summed up in a couple of sentences: 'Homosexuality is forbidden by the Torah. You can't be religious and gay.' The fiasco surrounding the Gay parade in Israel, or formal Jewish participation in Gay parades abroad distracts attention from the day to day, and often poignant struggle of religious Jews who realise that they are gay.
I want to know how parents are discussing the complexities of this situation with their daughters, particularly just before they go to 'sem' on their gap year after high school. Eighteen-year-old girls, away from home, are very vulnerable and research has shown a high incidence of eating disorders in the close confines and somewhat pressurized world of the religious seminary. What about sexual experimentation in such an environment where access to boys is usually quite limited? The rules of 'shomer negiah' (the touching of the opposite sex which is forbidden before marriage) certainly don't apply.
Being slightly pinko myself, I try not to judge people's personal relationships and I don't want my children to be homophobic, racist or sexist. If biology is destiny, then surely we are obligated to support a religious person who acknowledges their homosexuality and does not want to lead a double life that will inevitably end in tragedy for all those he or she duped. Nevertheless, a gay religious person is also destined to a life on the margins, whether that be within their own community or when they venture out into the general society that may not understand their religious convictions. Do we want our children to have conventional married lives merely because it removes the angst of not belonging?
So, until our daughters are married they may just have to settle for a pink Blackberry which advertises itself as "the phone that gives you everything you need - without sacrificing everything you want." Yes, the pink Blackberry may just be the man that every single frum woman is waiting for.
Monday, 1 December 2008
The Tehillim Tipping Point
Q. How many Beis Yaakov girls does it take to change a light bulb?
A. 100. One and 99 to say Tehillim.
Women scuttle to each other's homes during the week to huddle and recite Tehillim (Psalms) in an attempt to ward off illness or death or entreat God's kindness for a good shidduch or income. Women are the corrections of a community: when disasters strike, the rabbis often blame the women for gossiping or immodest dress. (Gossiping while dressed immodestly is a double whammy and even worse)
As if women don't have enough to do, now they are responsible for the spiritual well-being of a whole community and are instructed to say Tehillim as the remedy needed to avert further disaster. What was the Tehillim tipping point? How did these verses come to substitute serious learning and empowerment for women? Isn't is strange that while women's voices are accorded tremendous power to change the divinely ordained course of events, they have virtually no voice in the decision-making process of a religious community. Perhaps that is the real reason why communities start to go awry.
A. 100. One and 99 to say Tehillim.
Women scuttle to each other's homes during the week to huddle and recite Tehillim (Psalms) in an attempt to ward off illness or death or entreat God's kindness for a good shidduch or income. Women are the corrections of a community: when disasters strike, the rabbis often blame the women for gossiping or immodest dress. (Gossiping while dressed immodestly is a double whammy and even worse)
As if women don't have enough to do, now they are responsible for the spiritual well-being of a whole community and are instructed to say Tehillim as the remedy needed to avert further disaster. What was the Tehillim tipping point? How did these verses come to substitute serious learning and empowerment for women? Isn't is strange that while women's voices are accorded tremendous power to change the divinely ordained course of events, they have virtually no voice in the decision-making process of a religious community. Perhaps that is the real reason why communities start to go awry.
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